#gotta stop yelling long enough to tag this mf

[nb-n0v4]

GUESS WHAT I SAW. RAHHHHH THIS MOVIE WAS SO DAMN GOOD. Anyway we all new this guy was gonna be my new Guy(tm) words cannot explain how much I fucking love everything about this movie and this character and and grrrr it’s so GOOD AAAAAAA 

also more eye-strain-y version under the cut

[riseandshinelittleblossom]

Go Mets!

A/N: This is my submission for the wonderful @mf-despair-queen‘s 2019 Dylan O’Brien Baseball Week.  This is my first ever Dylan fic, as well as my first ever reader insert (ish) fic, so keep that in mind hahahaha I hope you enjoy it!

 Also! DISCLAIMER: I write this purely for fun, I don’t get paid or anything like that, I’m just borrowing our favorite Mets fan for a bit of  good natured fun...

Warnings: light swearing, because it wouldnt be a riseandshinelittleblossom fic without it. :D

Shout out to my wonderful friend @ao719 for indulging me and pre-reading this for me..girl your rock!

 Tags: @leelee10898 @fullbeaumonty @kennaxval @superapplepie @mrs-mitch-rapp93 @stiles-o-dylan24  @ownworldresident @mrscutiefandobhaz

    Dylan held out his arm, staggering backwards a bit as he caught the baseball in his well-worn mitt.

    “Hey, nice one Maggie!” He chuckled.

    The six year old across the yard beamed at him and he couldn't help but feel his heart melt seeing her snaggletooth grin.

     He was so proud of how much she had progressed since he first started bringing her out back to play catch two years ago.

     His friends had all warned him to steer clear of getting into a relationship with you because dating a single mother also meant “you have to play Dad,” but that had never worried him in the least. Maggie was a good kid, really smart, and she shared Dylan's passion for baseball and the Mets. These days he couldn't imagine a better way to spend his time off between filming than to be in the backyard helping her practice for her little league games.

   She flipped her long, chocolate- colored plait over her shoulder and resumed her batting stance.

   “Okay, Dyl. Let's have another one. And don't go easy on me this time.” She sassed.

   “Go easy on you? I would never..” he feigned innocence, grasping the ball firmly and grinding into the mitt a few times.

   Maggie rolled her eyes, the bat falling to her side.

   “I'm serious, O'Brien. You think the girls on the Grizzlies are gonna go easy on me this weekend? Not a chance! They're out for blood after we wiped the floor with them last season.”

   “Out for blood, huh? Okay, well pick up the bat and I promise I won't hold back then, Princess.”

    She resumed her stance and Dylan shook his head.

    “Here,” he began crossing the yard in a few strides to stand behind her. He widened her grip on the bat and helped her crouch a bit lower. “Gotta widen that stance, baby girl. Otherwise the first speed ball's gonna knock you right off of home plate.”

      He returned to the makeshift pitcher's mound that he and Maggie had made with a pile of her kinetic sand. It was a project that you had been none too happy about.

      He stomped his feet a few times before releasing a steady pitch.

      With a loud crack, the young girl sent the ball sailing away from her. Dylan hit a backwards run in an attempt to catch it, but it soared over the fence anyway.

   You watched from the open kitchen window as your boyfriend raced across the yard and hefted the small girl onto his shoulder.

   “And the Mag-ster rounds first! She's off to second! Oh my God, she's flying past third! Aaaand she makes it all the way home!” He shouted as he ran a circle in the yard and Maggie cheered, her small fists pumping into the air as Dylan mimicked the sound of a crowd roaring. He placed the child on the ground and you couldn't help but chuckle.

    You and Dylan had been going steady for two years now, but it always made you smile to watch him with Maggie. He was the best daddy to her that he never had to be and it made you love him even more.

      You thought back to the day that he first entered you and Maggie's lives as you finished washing up the mountain of dishes in the sink.

***********”**

     You adjusted the settings outside of the batting booth before crouching in front of your preschooler.

    “You sure you want to do the batting cages? We could go for another round of skee ball instead.” You suggested as the little girl before you adjusted her baseball helmet and shook her head. The child-sized aluminum bat in her hand still looked humongous and you bit your lip, wondering why you'd agreed to let her go in there and let a machine lob baseballs at her.

    “I wanna baseball! I'm tired of just tee ball! It's time to break into the big girl game, because one day I'm gonna play for the New York Mets.” She told you matter-of-factly as she stepped into the cage.

   You blamed the babysitter. She was a sweet woman that kept Maggie for next to nothing and she had two boys of her own that were only a little older for your daughter to play with.

   The sitter's oldest son, Jacob, was nine and he played little league, which meant he and his brother often tried to get Maggie to play catch with them outside. Jacob was Maggie's hero and a die-hard New York Mets fan. All the time she spent with Jacob had ignited a fire within your near five year old. It had started with endless tee ball games in the local junior league and now...batting cages at the family fun arena.

   You wrung your hands nervously as the first pitch shot out. You'd set the machine on the lowest setting but it still felt like the ball was the Roadrunner, jetting away from Wile E. Coyote as it hurdled towards your small child. Certainly anyone watching must have thought you were insane to let her in there.

   Maggie held her own, swinging confidently even though the ball barely glanced the end of her bat. The metallic ting caused her to giggle wildly.

   “I hit it!” She shouted.

   “Hey, good job!” a male voice came from behind.

   You whipped your head to see a tall slender man wearing khaki pants and, coincidentally, a Mets jersey. Your eyes scanned over him, your bottom lip tucking itself involuntarily between your teeth.

   He twisted his baseball cap, leaving the bill sticking out behind him and tucked his folded sunglasses into his shirt. He gave you a polite smile and nod, the fluorescent lights overhead catching his honey colored eyes just enough to make them sparkle.

   Your heart all but stopped as you smiled back and quickly averted your gaze, embarrassed that he'd no doubt noticed you checking him out.

    “Thank you. She lives for this stuff.” You said shyly.

     TING

   “I hit it again!” Maggie squealed in delight, turning to face you. “Who's he?”

   She scrunched her face up as she stepped out of the cage.

  “Oh I was just waiting my turn is all. I'm going to use the cage when you're finished. Nice form in there,though. If you'd like, maybe I could give you some pointers.” The man said.

     “You would?!” She squawked.

    You were taken aback by the way he peered directly into Maggie's eyes when he talked to her. Not many people were so attentive when they spoke, especially to children. It made your knees feel weak as he trained his eyes on you in the same fashion.

   “I'm Dylan.” He offered, extending a hand.

************

    Your attention was pulled back to the present as you heard Maggie's sassy, near whiny voice through the window.

   “I am NOT a baby anymore, Dylan. I'm getting bigger everyday, you know.” She scoffed.

   He nodded. “Unfortunately.”

   You stepped onto your tiptoes to get a better view of the two loves of your life, straining to hear their conversation. They were seated on the patio now, Dylan helping Maggie oil her own glove as well as his own.

    “Mommy says that if I want to keep playing I have to take good care of my equipment. She said only responsible players get into the big leagues, so I have been trying to oil my mitt like you showed me, but sometimes it's hard.” The girl huffed as her mentor lifted his large hands-the ones that plagued your every day dream- and placed them over hers, patiently guiding her movements.

   “You want to make sure you get into every groove, Princess. Every crevice. See? You've got it. I'm so glad to hear you've been listening to Mom while I've out of town, though.”

     You let out a sigh, a warm feeling spreading from your chest throughout your body, a small chuckle escaping you. How did you ever get lucky enough to find him?

    “Dylan, can I ask you a question?” Maggie piped up.

     “Anything, squirt. What's on your mind?”

    “Why were you and Mommy yelling at each other last night?”

     Dylan's eyes went wide as he turned his gaze to his own mitt.

    “Wha..wuddaya mean? We weren't-”

     “Come on, O'Brien. I'm not deaf. You were saying, ‘Oh, Y/N,’ and Mommy kept screaming 'Dylan, oh my God’. Were you guys fighting?”

    You tried to stifle a laugh, your hand flying over you lips as you remembered the absolutely mind blowing events from the night before. The ones your daughter had apparently overheard. You could barely see your boyfriend's cheeks turning bright red right about now and you would have paid good damned money to get a view of that up close.

    “Uh, no. We weren't...we weren't fighting, Princess.” Dylan tried to be vague and he cleared his throat. You knew he was silently hoping that his answer had been enough to end the conversation, but you also knew Maggie better than that.

   “Oh. Well then what were you doing?”

    Dylan turned to wipe off his hands, holding the towel out for Maggie to do the same.

    “We were...we were talking in our sleep.”

    “I heard banging, Dyl.”

     The dark haired man gulped audibly, one hand rubbing over the days old stubble of his chin.

    “Uh...that? Oh we were… okay listen. You know I love your Mommy, right Princess?”

    Maggie nodded, “Yep! And she loves you.”

    “That's right. So we love each other. Sometimes, uh...when a boy loves a girl...ya know...they...dance...together?”

      You cackled softly listening to Dylan not even buying his own bullshit.

   “Oh. But I can dance without banging, see?”

   Maggie hopped from her seat and swept into a graceful ballerina twirl, her hands above her head.

    “Well that's because you're a beautiful baseball-playing ballerina, and as such you're very graceful. Mommy and I...well, we're sort of clumsy.”

   The child laughed. “So you mean you guys fall down a lot?”

   “Exactly.”

    “So that's why you were yelling right? You just kept knocking each other down?” the six year old cocked a skeptical eyebrow and Dylan nodded.

    “You're gonna have to do better than that, Dyllie. I'm not buying it.”

     Your boyfriend let out an exasperated sigh. “Okay how's this? We were dancing together because we love each other and we're clumsy so we kept falling down, but then he had...um bruises..?” He stopped short, clearly at a loss.

   “The truth, please. I was born at night but not last night, ya know?” Maggie sassed with an eye roll.

   “Okay the truth is... The truth is that I love your Mom and she loves me and sometimes when you love someone so much you just...you want to show them. There are things that you will learn about when you're older that help grown ups show each other how much they love their boyfriend or their girlfriend. And so..that's what we were doing. But those things are for grown ups only. I mean...grown ups that love each other and want to get married someday...not just any old boyfriend and girlfriend…”

     Your heart stopped at the thought. You and Dylan had been together for a long time, but somehow you'd never talked about marriage before.

    Maggie stared at him, one eyebrow cocked, her face scrunched in thought.

    “Do you..? You understand anything I just said?” He asked nervously.

    “Uuuuhhhh…..go Mets?” Maggie replied still obviously confused.

    Dylan laughed loudly as he ruffled her hair. “That's my girl!”

    “I don't even wanna know anymore,” she shook her head. “As long as you promise you and Mommy aren't breaking up.”

    Dylan wrapped his arms around her shoulders pulling her into a tight hug.

   “No way, Princess. You two aren't going to get rid of me that easily.”

     “Hey, Mommy!” Maggie beamed as you appeared in the sliding glass doorway.

      “Hey, kiddo. Why don't you take your gear upstairs for me? Dylan and I need to talk.”

      She complied with your request, gathering her belongings and tossing them into her athletic bag before hefting it inside.

     You grinned widely at Dylan as your daughter disappeared up the stairs. He exhaled audibly, silently mouthing “thank you,” as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

       He ambled across the patio, wrapping his long arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly close.

   “I know you were listening, you evil woman. Way to leave me hanging.”  Dylan muttered, his lips brushing yours as he spoke. His whiskey eyes were locked on yours, making your knees suddenly feel weak.

   “I dunno, you seemed to be handling things pretty well on your own.”  You smugly replied.

    “Yeah? You think so? I'd love to show you a few other things I can handle pretty well.” he pressed his lips to yours and you giggled into the caress.

    “You mean like...Go Mets?”

    He scoffed, giving you his near award-winning, lopsided smile.

    “You're damn right, go Mets.”