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cjrights · 4 hours

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Ight then here we go. And dw I promise I’m not feral like aloras anons. (Btw I made this while eating Mac n cheese at like 10:30 at night).

This could be really bad so read at your own risk (I’ve never written x reader)

Paige Bueckers x Softball! Player reader! (Hcs)

Content: mentions of an injury/description of one happening, Overall just fluffy stuff.

This is my first time ever writing something like this (pls don’t make fun of me 😭 I’ll cry and probably never log back in)

Starting off with a little about yourself:

-You’ve played softball for quite a while (obviously your good if you’ve gotten to UConn) around 14 years

-You’re a catcher- and a damned good one at that. You catch for just about anyone if needed and play quite a bit.

-One thing your most renowned for are your speed and base running abilities. Very few times is someone better or faster than you on base.

-however you are on the smaller side, barely 5’4 (you give yourself an extra inch though). Many players thought your height would impede your abilities and that you were too small to be a catcher.

-but your basically the ballsiest player in the league and hate losing so you don’t go down without a fight.

Ok now that we know about you let’s get into Paige.

1. Prior to the season she likes helping you clean your bag and gear out.

“Babeeee look what I have.”

You look up briefly confused, only to burst into giggles at the sight of Paige in your catchers gear. It obviously didn’t fit- not surprising with you at 5’5 and her at 6’. The white shinguards barely reached 3/4s down her legs and the chest guard left half of her exposed.

“Paige, why are you trying on my gear?” You ask over your shoulder, turning back into your bag to grab your batting gloves and helmet out.

“I gotta make sure my girls safe!” She protested, desperately trying to put on the to small helmet. “Can’t have you getting hurt! And why’s this helmet so small?!”

“Probably cause you’ve got a big head.”

“Who wouldn’t have a big head dating someone as sexy and skilled as you,” she smirks, lightly kissing your neck as your crouched over the bat bag.

“Well I suppose I am quite skilled and sexy…” you agree lifting your head so she can kiss more easily.

“And all mine.”

“And all yours.” You agree happily. “And yours alone. Now back to work bucko!” You state lightly patting her on the chest and nudging her off kisses. “No time for that now.”

Paige resumes trying to put on the helmet, still struggling immensely, as you go through the pockets of your bag. You snicker at her troubles with the helmet, before grabbing it and sticking it on your own head. “I’ll be fine.”

“But what if-“ fine then Paige, you thought. Guess I’ve got no other choice…

She’s abruptly cut off by you smacking your helmeted head into a wall lightly then staring at her, entirely unmoved by the feel of it. The noise of it had been stronger than whatever pain it had caused. She stands there shocked for a moment, staring at you gobsmacked before reluculantly starting to take off the gear.

“Ok fine. You’re safe in this I suppose.”

You turned away from the blonde and resumed your sorting, now satisfied.

“Erm babe? could you help me out? I think I’m stuck.”

2. Her trying to carry your bag and failing miserably.

“Why the hell do you have a body bag?!” Had been her first reaction to it, which admittedly may have been justified.

But you couldn’t help it! All catchers needed a bag this big…even if it was almost your size. But with cleats, bats, gloves, your gear and everything else you needed a bag like this was a must. Even if it was probably twice your body weight.

You just shrugged and said catchers always had big bags, then started dragging it off to the UConn fields.

Now you were getting ready to board the bus for an away game in Ohio and you’d just unpacked the car. Azzi had came along to see you off alongside of Paige. You went to grab your bag, only to have Paige abruptly get in the way.

“Allow me m’lady,” she mimics, grabbing the bag handle before you can stop her.

“Baby, I love you, but you know damn well you’ll drop that.” It was true, she’d tried multiple times, and crushed multiple toes.

“No! I’m big and strong and perfectly capable of lifting my girlfriend’s bag!” She huffs and chuffs determinedly, as she drags it towards the bus, carefully lifting it up into the open back door.

Your teammates give her half weirded out-half amused look, not quite sure if they should intervene or let her learn the hard way.

Even Azzi rolls her eyes and sighs, “should we stop her before she tears another ACL?”

You sigh, Paige was one stubborn motherfucker, as much as you loved her. “Maybe that’s how she’ll finally learn not to lift a catchers bag without help.”

After a long time, filled with much painful wheezing and a red faced girlfriend she manages to get it on the bus. “See…” she wheezes, “I can so lift your bag!”

You laugh and walk over to her, stretching up on your tiptoes to kiss her lips, which she eagerly accepts gently cradling the back of your head.

“My hero,” you tease, resting your forehead against hers, relishing in the warmth of her ice blue gaze.

3. She sees you get trucked defending the plate for the first time and almost has a heart attack.

It started off as a simple play and should’ve remained simple. Then you blew it and missed the block on a wild pitch. The runner on third saw her opportunity and took it.

Thankfully you’d been quicker on your feet than the pitcher and grabbed the ball guarding the plate from the incoming runner. Normally a base runner would get tagged out on a run, or try to veer away at the last moment.

But not the Alabama girl. Nope, she’d already known you were on the smaller side- and that you never backed down. So she did the only sensible thing.

She lowered her shoulder and smashed into you at a full sprint. To your credit you got the tag and kept on your feet, just staggering slightly from the impact. What you weren’t expecting for the lights to go out a few seconds after she collided.

You didn’t remember what happened after that, next thing you knew, three coaches, the athletic trainer, and about nine concerned teammates had formed a protective barrier around you, as if they were animals guarding a hurt cub.

According to your pitcher, the Bama girls helmet had smacked with yours and with the combined effort from the rest of her body, knocked you out. Thankfully it was only for a half minute or so, and nothing was that badly hurt.

you were fine apart from having the wind knocked out of you and a thorough bit of bruising on your shoulders, chest, hips, and neck. The whole incident hadn’t even phased you that badly and after a quick test run, you were cleared to resume catching and hit a double the next inning, directly over the Bama players head, as though to say it would take more then that to bring you down.

Turns out the one more affected was your blonde girlfriend who was sitting in the bleachers

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“What the fuck was that!” The blonde all but screamed at the top of her lungs, unaware of the looks fans from both sides were giving her.

A dad who was sitting next to her gave her a look before chuckling. “That’s called trucking the catcher. Don’t worry though, she’s a tough little thing, she’ll get back up fine in a few seconds.

Paige shot him a look before glaring at the back of the Bama girls helmet, about ready to go out and beat her up herself.

“It’s called downright bad sportsmanship and dangerous! I mean she could’ve been hurt!” Her anxiety fueled the anger she was feeling, especially after seeing you wobble before your body passed out. Had it not been so crowded she would’ve been on the field herself.

The dad glanced over at her. “Seems like you care quite a bit about this catcher.”

“M’course I do. She’s my girlfriend, my baby, and it’s my job to protect her.”

He nods in understanding, glad the blonde was a bit calmer. “Don’t worry about it, she’s tough as nails. Look she’s already up again.”

She looked down and true to his word you were standing on slightly wobbly legs and doing an experimental squat to see how badly the girl had damaged you.

A breathe she didn’t know she’d been holding escaped, “thank god…” she whispered, not taking her eyes off you.

Now with you alright and her new softball dad friend she could watch the game (albeit she still growled under her breathe when the Bama girl came out). She was ready to spoil you rotten by the end of the game.

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“Baby, I appreciate the gesture but you don’t need to worry this much…that happens quite a lot.”

“Nope! My baby deserves all the spoiling tonight.” She stated walking in with a freshly microwaved heating pad, full bottle of water, ibuprofen, and some chocolate. “Now come on movie time.”

You couldn’t resist smiling as she climbed into bed beside you, gently draping you over her lap.

“I’m getting thrown out for starting a fist fight the next time you play Bama.” Paige mutteres suddenly.

“Paige Madison! You will not!”

“Yes I will, that stupid shortstop deserves it!”

You roll your eyes, your girlfriend was sweet, but overprotective like a damned pitbull.

“No Paigey, no fighting.”

“Fine….”

You end up dozing off before her, but not before feeling her planting gentle “feel better kisses” over every one of your bruises. And that’s why you fall asleep smiling.

Enjoy! (Also I have many more of these if wanted)

-🦦

hi this is SO cute???? i love????

you did this so well im gagged asf

more more more

#🦦 anon #i love my anons #ask #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers headcannons #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers x softball player

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