Crush X Reader One Shots & Imagines

Competitive X Competitive

Y/N = Your Name
C/N = Crush Name
BSF/N = Best Friend Name
F/N = Friend Name
E/N = Enemy's Name
N/N = Nickname
H/C = Hair Color
E/C = Eye Color
________________________

The sun was just starting to dip lower in the sky as we gathered at the softball field for our usual practice. The air was warm, and the scent of fresh grass filled my lungs as I tossed the ball back and forth with one of my teammates. We had a big game coming up, and I was determined to make sure our team was more than ready.

As I wound up for another pitch, a sharp whistle pierced the air, followed by the sound of distant laughter. My grip on the ball tightened, and I turned toward the source of the noise. Across the field, just on the other side of the fence, stood a group of guys from the baseball team—including none other than C/N.

Of course, he was standing front and center, leaning against the chain-link fence with that trademark smirk plastered across his face. I could hear the low murmur of his friends trash-talking, their voices carrying over as they watched us practice.

"Careful, ladies," C/N called out, his voice dripping with amusement. "You don't want to pull a muscle."

The girls around me groaned, and I shot him a glare from the mound, tossing the ball to the side. "Keep talking, C/N," I muttered under my breath, loud enough for him to hear. "We'll see who's pulling muscles when we beat your team."

We've had a bet going all season that we would win more games than them. So far we are tied.

C/N raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Oh, I'm shaking in my cleats. Maybe you'll actually hit a home run this time. I mean, I doubt it, but hey, miracles happen."

I felt a surge of frustration bubble up inside me, but instead of giving him the satisfaction of seeing me snap, I turned my back to him, trying to refocus on practice. My teammates shot me sympathetic looks, but I knew they were just as annoyed.

"You know," he continued, his voice carrying as I walked back to the dugout, "if you ever need real pointers, you could always ask me."

I rolled my eyes but refused to look back at him. "Why don't you come over here and show me how it's done, then?" I shot back, regretting the words as soon as they left my mouth.

The other girls exchanged glances as C/N pushed off the fence. "Alright, challenge accepted, L/N," he said with a wink, stepping onto the field.

As soon as he stepped onto the field, a chorus of "ooohs" and "awws" erupted from both sides—his friends and mine. I shot my best friend a glare, but she only gave me an innocent shrug, clearly entertained by the situation.

C/N grabbed a bat off the bench and sauntered over, that cocky smirk still plastered on his face. "Alright, let's see what you've got, hotshot."

I folded my arms, already irritated. "I know how to pitch, C/N."

He raised an eyebrow. "Sure, but I could give you some pointers. Get your form right." He stepped behind me, pretending to adjust an invisible stance as if he were teaching me something.

I scoffed, shaking him off. "Yeah, okay. Let's see how you handle it." He walks to the plate and opens his mouth to say something.

But before he could, I grabbed the ball and wound up, sending it flying straight at him with as much force as I could muster. The ball zipped past his head, barely giving him time to react, and his eyes widened in shock as it landed with a solid thunk into the catcher's mitt behind him.

For a moment, his cocky facade dropped. "Hey you can't pitch like that!" he snapped, clearly caught off guard.

I grinned, enjoying the rare moment of seeing him thrown off balance. "Why not?" I taunted, leaning on the bat with a smug smile. "Afraid you can't keep up?"