Backyard Baseball. - Dylan.

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"Dylan, give the kid a chance!" I chuckled, watching the small four year old pout

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"Dylan, give the kid a chance!" I chuckled, watching the small four year old pout. "There's no chances in major league, babe." He responded.


"This isn't major league, this is a family game where our four year old has a chance." I informed. Dylan huffed, pitching the ball more gently this time. Serena swung with all of her might, successfully hitting it this time. she then ran around the yard, sending her three year old brother home. "Thank you," I smiled.


"Yeah, yeah." They both received two points, while Dylan and I still took the lead by seven. As you can tell, even with his own children, he shows no mercy in baseball.


"All right, that leaves Dylan and Y/N with twelve, and Tyler and Serena with five." Posey announced.


"Come on, Dylan. Let them at least get a few more points." Holland reasoned.


"It's not like you are losing anything." Posey added.


"My pride," Dylan stated. Due the stares he was receiving from everyone, he gave in. "Fine! I'll stop stealing bases."


"And..." I trailed off, waiting for him to continue.


"And stop pitching curve balls." He kicked at the grass.


"Thank you," I smiled, wrapping an arm around his torso.


"Daddy, I want you on my team!" Tyler informed.


The minute we found out I was pregnant again, Dylan promised Posey he would name our second child after him-boy or girl. Thankfully, the odds worked in our son's favor because Posey wanted them to be a mini version of himself.


"Deal!" Dylan exclaimed.


"Hey!" I called, offended.


"You said I can't play unfair against our children," He reminded.


"Also meaning me, considering I'm awful!" I informed.


"Serena has you, Tyler has me- it's even." He smirked, walking over to our small home plate.


"It is not even," I responded.


"I say it's pretty even." T-pose added.


"Holland, back me up here." I whined.


"I don't know, you seemed to be batting pretty well." She said.


I grumbled, walking over to pitches mount. "No over the fences, Mr and Mrs Harper are constantly complaining about a certain someone's kickball always flying into their pool." I stated, looking to T-pose knowing him, Dylan, and a few other people from the cast played a game not too long ago.


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