Yee Haw Imagines

7 Summers - Morgan Wallen

- Requested -

You look at your reflection in the rolled up window of her boyfriend's truck. You tuck some lose strands of hair behind your ear then turn to him.

You fix your ball cap then head to the bleachers, a bag of sunflower seeds in your hands.

You watch Morgan step up to the pitchers mound and you smile. He's always looked so good when he's focused like this.

He sets up then launches the ball across the plate. The ump calls a strike and there are minimal claps from the crowd.

He sets up again then lobs the ball to the awaiting mit. He calls a ball.

One more strike and three more balls; it's the money pitch.

This last pitch decides the fate of the game.

He audibly grunts, his leg swinging around as he closes the pitch.

Everyone's on the edge of their seat.

"Strike!"

You stand and grip the fence while the other people sitting in the bleachers stomp their feet.

They won the game.

Their team is going to the championship.

Morgan looks up and grins at you, disappearing into the dugout to get his things.

"(Y/N)!" He shouts, wrapping his arms around you, kissing you sweetly.

You grimace as you pull back. "No! You're so sweaty!" He throws his arm around your shoulders as they head back to his truck. "You did great."

"Nah, we almost lost."

"But you didn't." You say, watching him toss his bag into the bed of his truck.

"I'm comin' back here tomorrow to throw some balls."

"Don't your shoulder hurt?"

"A little bit." He shrugs it off, hopping up on the tailgate with you. "Thanks for comin' tonight." You smile.

You rest your head on his good shoulder and twist your fingers with his dirty ones. "You know I couldn't miss one of your games."
He smiles to himself. "C'mon, let's go to the river."

+++

"Outta all the fences you ask me to jump..."

"Oh, c'mon." You laugh as you head to the middle of the outfield, sitting back in the freshly mowed grass. "I feel like you." He lays next to you.

You lay in a comfortable silence with your head on his bicep, his hand resting on his belly. "The stars are so beautiful." He says, his tired blue eyes bouncing from speck to speck.

You look over at him. "You decide on a college yet?"

"Yeah. I applied to U of T in Knoxville. Supposed to get an answer by next week."

"What would you major in?"

"No idea." You lick your lips as you look at his. "What?"

"Kiss me." You whisper, leaning up to brush your thumb across his pretty pink bottom lip. He smiles and does as he's told, guiding her to straddle his lap.

You slide your hand up his shirt and you two end up fucking right there in center field.

+++

You're pacing around your bathroom, your heart racing. You're late, two weeks late.

There's no way you could be pregnant.