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caesium-55 · 28 days

Text

—seven days [ epilogue ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

warnings: mentions of death and suicide.

author's note: here's the epilogue and the end end of the seven days series. thank you everyone for showing love to this fic! i was honestly so overwhelmed by the sheer amount of all of you. also, i apologize for all the broken hearts i caused after posting chapters 4-7. stay safe yall! i'll rest my fingers for real now. my doctor wasn't very happy with me. NOT BETA READ. NOT EDITED.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore @formulaal @landorris @onecojg @leclercdream @vicurious28 @c-losur3 @spookystitchery @0710khj @strollnstroll @justab-eautifulmess @ssrcsm @seasonswinter @kravitzwhore @mycure156 i hope i didn't forget anyone

masterlist.

Julio [Name] was not an ambitious person. He didn't have dreams or concrete plans in life. But in 1985, his first dream was born. He wanted to be an F1 racer after reading about the Portuguese Grand Prix in a local newspaper where he saw a Brazilian racer even younger than him participate in it and winning it. Ayrton Senna was the racer’s name, twenty-five years old. At that time, Julio [Name] was the same age.

He immediately searched for the nearest karting track. He brought his then girlfriend, Sally Kingston, a dental student in USC, to the kart zone for their date. It was safe to say that driving was not exactly his forte. He crashed his rental kart and had to pay the damages. He was afraid that he made himself a loser in front of the Sally Kingston, the richest, prettiest, and nicest girl from L.A., and that she wouldn't wanna go out with a bumpkin like him anymore, but she had only laughed at him—her eyes turning into little crescents, showing too much teeth and gums—and from then and there, he knows he’s going to marry Sally Kingston one day. He might not have become a F1 driver, but he ended up marrying the girl of his dreams.

Him and Sally welcomed a son in 1991. They named him Damiano and he turned out to be a carbon copy of his beloved wife, not that Julio was complaining. When Damiano turned five, Julio brought him in the kart zone and let him try driving the kart. Damiano adored it so Julio signed him up for racing school. Three weekends later, Damiano got sick of driving around in circles so he stopped. Sally gave birth to a daughter in the same year—1996.

Five years later, he brings [Name], his mija, into the kart zone. He expected that you’ll be like Damiano, too, getting sick of the thing after three weekends or so. You didn't. You loved karting and going fast, almost dangerously so. You lasted five weekends so Julio signed you up for the kart zone’s junior racing school and you were their first female member. You won your first race when you were six, only seven months after you officially joined.

“She was born to race,” the team head told Julio. Julio then decided that he’d do whatever it takes so you could become a F1 driver.

Like his initial dream, his dream for you couldn't be brought to reality. When you were nine, you had to stop karting for financial reasons. Damiano was in high school, Rafael had leukemia, and Dominic had just been born. When Julio told you the news, you were sad but you understood why the decision was made so you never complained. You learned how to play billiards instead and your Abuelo was the one who taught you. It's cheaper than karting so Sally and Julio gave you their full support.

Julio [Name] was pleasantly surprised when you told him that you got accepted in USC’s engineering department years later. He half expected that you’d be like Damiano, who took an interest in dentistry, and was attending dental school. He was going to be a dentist like his mother. He was a perfect copy of Sally.

“If I can't be a racer, I’ll become a mechanical engineer,” you declared, head held high. Julio couldn't be anymore proud. You were living his dream.

If you asked Julio [Name] if he had lived a happy life despite not reaching his dreams, he would say yes without hesitation. He married the love of his life, Sally Kingston, now Sally [Last Name]. His first son, Damiano, had topped dental school and followed in his mother’s footsteps. His daughter, [Name], graduated with flying colors, a mechanical engineering degree under her belt and entered the motorsports industry, the first in the family to do so. (You even got him Fernando Alonso’s autograph! That's his second favorite driver!) Not only that, she volunteered at the LAFD during her college years and competed in a billiards tournament in Vegas, Australia, and the UK. You had the potential to be an international-level pool player but you didn't pursue the sport because you wanted to be an engineer. Rafael didn't let leukemia beat him and now, he’s finishing up his last year in CalTech, pursuing mechanical engineering like his older sister. A research team in Sweden had been eyeing him for a while now. Dominic, on the other hand, is steadily building a career for himself in volleyball. He was offered a sports scholarship in Harvard so, despite the fact that he’s going even farther than his siblings with no relatives near him like in L.A., Julio pushed him to pursue what he wanted. His children are his pride and joy. He spent every single day bragging about his children to his colleagues. The others had expressed their envy to him. Did Julio save a country in his last life to have such great children?

Furthermore, he’d been promoted to be the captain of Station 131 in Austin. Julio may not have driven an F1 car but he wouldn't even trade this family over anything in this world, not even the life of luxury and thrill of a Formula One Driver.

(What Julio didn't know was that Damiano had serious depression in dental school that he carried even after graduating, that you weren't accepted as an engineer in F1 and was stuck in a managerial position for the last five years, that Sweden found a better researcher than Rafael so he’s stuck suffering physically and mentally in a degree with his future unclear and cloudy, and Dominic was slowly losing passion in volleyball but it's the only thing putting him through college right now so he grits his teeth and put himself on court. No one told Julio. Julio got enough of his dreams broken already.)

Truthfully, despite working for Red Bull for half a decade, you never liked its taste. You were always the Monster Energy type of girl. It's the one drink that kept you functioning through all the all-nighters you pulled in engineering school. However, you kind of lost the palate for Monster Energy so now, here you are, standing outside a gas station mini mart in the middle of the dusty highway that leads to El Paso. You hold the chilled can of Red Bull against the side of your neck, satisfied with the feeling of something cool pressing against your skin. The temperature in Texas is going absolutely crazy this time of the year. In your other hand, two cigarette sticks balance in between your fingers. You crave the deadly nicotine. Desperately. But you're not stupid enough to smoke at a gas station because of your cravings.

Your phone vibrates and you pull it out of your pocket to see who messaged you. You snicker when you view the barrage of pictures from the Austin Grand Prix that Leo sent. A stolen shot of Logan, meme faces of Alex, the air show, a selfie with THE Fernando Alonso, and a Tiktok video with the other Williams mechanics.

You watched the race from the stands today and truthfully, you prefer watching the race in the garage than on the stands. It's unbelievably boring to be there. People pay thousands of dollars to sit under the excruciating heat of the sun and catch a glimpse of very fast cars for a nanosecond. You wouldn't even catch sight of if you blink. Nevertheless, you're happy that Leo is having the time of his life. You wish you share the same shoes.

leo: so so sad that u have to go

you: id be flattered if u actually mean it

leo: *rolling eyes emoji*

leo: i hope you choke on your beer

you: i hope you choke on the celebratory champagne

you: and i dont drink and drive

leo: good to know ur not stupid

leo: on a serious note make sure to drive to el paso safely

you: aight aight

leo: u know i have something to confess

you: if it's something stupid, don't bother

leo: ur stupid

you: fuck u

leo: shut up

leo: just wanna say i didn't break up with u bc u gave max too much attention

leo: i know that's what i said but i only said that bc i knew that u needed max to achieve ur dreams

leo: and idk i just thought max wouldn't give it to u not when im still dating u

you: that's stupid

you: max isn't like that

leo: hes in love with u

Your heart stutters. You ignore it.

you: liar

leo: i could tell u lil shit

leo: idk he looked like someone who’d hold a grudge

you: he does hold grudges

leo: and i cant allow myself to stand in between you and the one person who can give you your dream you know?

leo: i loved you enough to let you go to him

You choke on your saliva. You don't love Leo romantically anymore and you are sure that the feelings are mutual but his abrupt confession is enough to bring back the pain of loving him and letting him go all over again.

leo: u sure u won’t stay to see him?

leo: he’s the one who wants to see you the most

you: his ig messages makes me think otherwise

You're a fucking coward. A pussy.

leo: you didn't see the man [name]

leo: you don't know how empty he looks now

A shadow of guilt darkens your eyes. You quickly shove your phone into the pocket of your jacket. You open the Red Bull and take a large swig, almost draining the entire can. You exhale loudly after drinking, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You stare at the vast expanse of the dry earth before you, starting to understand the appeal of aimless road trips in the southern roads.

The world seems to be turning in slow motion now.

Ever since your father died, time feels like it was moving too fast. You arrived at the hospital half an hour after Julio was officially pronounced dead. At that time, you felt like the world was ending. Your knees gave out in the middle of the hospital hallway. Your mother’s wail echoed in your ears. Damiano and Dominic were trying to console her, both of whom were crying terribly. You stare at them, face empty despite the hurricane brewing within you. Rafael wrapped his arms around you and you held onto him as he cried uncontrollably.

Your mother possessed a weak heart. She’d grown weaker and weaker day by day after your father passed. Your father’s station held a ceremony for him to pay tribute to their fallen captain. You were the one who carried his helmet all throughout the ceremony because the entire station knew you were his most prized child. When you flipped the helmet, there was a photo taped on it. A photo of the entire family at your graduation ceremony in USC. You maintained that tired and empty stare during the entire procession. In the middle of the ceremony, your mother collapsed.

Your father’s death was the first domino to be tipped. Your mother’s collapse during the funeral was the second. From then on, everything turned to shit. Your mother had always been frail and prone to sickness so it didn’t surprise you when she had grown so weak in a matter of days. She couldn't sleep. She didn't want to eat. She lost her will to do anything else. You took her to the hospital after a week because you were afraid she was beginning to become malnourished. Damiano suggested moving your mother to El Paso, to your Abuelo and Abuela’s farm, so your mother could recuperate there, and you agreed. The entire family moved to El Paso quickly, leaving the house in Vista Del Pueblo empty and celebrated the New Year there.

You opened your phone for the first time since you landed in ATX on the 30th and a barrage of messages had been sent to you. From Daniel, Logan, Leo, Kendall, Julia. You freeze when you see Max’s name. Your finger hovers above it, hesitating. Your mind trailed back to the five years you spent in Red Bull, to all the memories with Max in it, to what happened inside his penthouse in Monaco, the jet, the night you spent in his sheets, the shoes and—

Fuck.

“Kelly,” you mumbled to yourself, typing her username in the search box. You began typing up a message. You're not mentally equipped to write a long message of apology. Your mental dictionary was not ready to use so you decided to half ass the entire message and hope for the best.

you: sorry about the breakup

you: i didn't know about the shoes

you: i didn't take it

you: im so sorry

you: i hope you're not too hurt

In truth, you loved Kelly for Max. You never had problems with her. At first, you were concerned about the great age gap between her and Max as she was even older than Danny but then you figured that you did not have a say because Leo was also younger than you, born in the same year as Max. Then, you saw how she was so caring to Max, so patient in dealing with his misplaced anger, so supportive. You saw how Max transformed into a better version of himself, something you are not even capable of doing, because of Penelope and Kelly. How he became the world's most massive girl dad without trying. You ignored every bitter feeling that sprouted on your chest because you saw Max was happy and his happiness always came first. And now, you’re here, apologizing to Kelly for taking Max away from her.

kelly: i think i’m the one who’s been taking him from you

kelly: take care of him for me

you: thank you for loving him

You can't imagine how hurt Kelly was. Imagine dating and preparing a man so he could be perfect for another girl.

you: but i can’t do what you're asking

you: not anymore

“Not anymore,” you whisper to yourself, as if uttering it to the wind would cement it as the truth.

Not anymore, Max. I’m sorry.

Rafael and Dominic told you that they want to drop out of college to help you out with Mama a few days after New Year’s. You quickly told them no, to finish college and that you could handle taking care of two senior citizens and your sickly mother and help out on the farm since you’re essentially jobless at the moment.

The third domino is Damiano. You were always aware he’d been clinically depressed, taking medications to help him get better. Whatever he went through in dental school, he carried it with him until he was working. You believed he was getting better. He was seeing a therapist for years now and you were checking up on him every day. Then, like Mama, he just…. became worse. Rafael found him submerged in the bathtub in his apartment, red painting his wrists. Had Rafael not been there at the right time, Damiano would have followed Papa Julio.

The fourth domino is Dominic. He ruined his hand in March. The doctor told him it was dangerous for him to continue playing volleyball competitively. It was either he learned how to set with only his non-dominant hand because his dominant hand is partially crippled or he stopped playing all together. He’d choose the second option with no hesitation as he had lost his passion for the sport but if he’s not playing for Harvard anymore, no one would be able to pay his fees until graduation. Not when Julio died, not when Sally was too sick to continue working, not when Damiano was currently unstable, not when you’re the only one who had been supporting the entire family through your entire savings account. Red Bull must have paid you a lot of money because you’ve been keeping the entire family afloat for months now.

The fifth domino is Rafael, who got his entire thesis overhauled so now, his graduation was out of the picture. It sucked. He’d always been expected to follow his older siblings’ footsteps, both of whom are academically excelling individuals and Rafael had been studying and studying and studying. So why was this happening to him? Why was this happening to his family?

The sixth domino was yet to be tipped over.

You refuse to fall.

You blink, suddenly back in reality when you hear a loud caw of a bird flying above your head. You shake your head, tossing the Red Bull in a nearby trash can and returning inside the mini mart. The amount of caffeine in a Red Bull isn’t enough. You need more. You need fucking coffee.

Gas station coffee sucks but you’re never the type who complains. El Paso is still eight hours away and you’re sure you're going to be driving your motorcycle the entire night just to reach the farm the next morning.

You walked towards the Yamaha XSR 155 parked in front of the mini-mart, a styro cup of coffee that’s as black as your soul and as bitter as your life in your hand. Hypnotizing swirls of steam rise from the cup. In each step you take, the key that is attached to your hip jingles.

It's a little past four in the afternoon but the darkness of the sky makes you think it's around six PM. You pocket your cigarettes and stand beside your motorcycle, hand on your hip while the other brings the cup of coffee to your mouth. A car suddenly arrives, coming to a screeching halt in front of you. You flinch in surprise, almost spilling your coffee in your hands. You hiss loudly, brows furrowing, a curse sitting on the tip of your tongue. You hear the sound of a car door opening and slamming shut and when you look up—

“Max.”

He’s still in his Red Bull overalls, drenched in sweat as if he ran to the gas station instead of driving. His hair is windswept, sticking out in multiple directions almost attractively so. He looks simultaneously distraught and relieved when your eyes met. The longing in his eyes. God. You unconsciously take a step back and turn around—a flight response—when he charges in your direction.

A strong pair of arms wrap around you from behind, stopping you from your tracks and causing your coffee to spill and fall down pathetically on the floor. You avoided the puddle, hands reaching behind you to guide Max away from the steaming liquid. But it’s too late. You saw the hot coffee touch his skin.

“Max!” you exclaim, eyes going wide. Your hand wraps around his forearm, pulling it but his grip on you tightens so you resort to tapping his arm in hopes that he’ll let go and you can inspect his injured hand and make a quick run for the mini mart for first-aid supplies.

“Max, let go,” you say, panicking. “Your hand—”

“Don’t leave,” his voice cracks.

“I won't go, okay? Let go and I’ll—”

“No,” the hug tightens and you suck in a breath. “You’ll leave again. I know you’ll leave again.”

“I’ll fix your hand. You can’t burn your hand—”

“I can endure it. Let me have this please,” he pleads. You pull his hand but Max remains stubborn. Resigned, you sigh. It turns out that you’re still the same, giving whatever Max wanted.

“I’m sorry for getting angry,” he begins. “I’m sorry for stopping you from going to Renault. I’m sorry for promising that I’d talk to Christian. I’m sorry that I didn't. I’m sorry that you had to break up with Leo because of me. I’m sorry that I realized that I fell in love with you while dating Kelly. I’m sorry for the shoes. I’m sorry for getting drunk. I’m sorry for being so selfish. I’m sorry for not considering you. I’m sorry for loving you. I’m so, so sorry, [Name]. For everything.”

His words come rapidly and frankly, you don't want to hear Max like this. Max rarely apologizes. You're not used to hearing him apologize.

“Max—”

“I called, [Name].”

You freeze.

“I called so many times. Not once have you answered. Not once—” a loud sob erupts from his mouth, interrupting him. “You always come when I call.”

You close your eyes, letting out a shaky breath.

“I sent you a message,” he continues. “To wait for me. I know I’m selfish but can I have five minutes please? Just….five?”

A pause.

“Okay,” you whisper. Max’s body trembles against yours and you stand still for a few minutes,

“Hey,” you say gently, suddenly reminded that you're standing in an open space and Max is still in his Red Bull overalls and he doesn't even have his usual cap on and this compromising situation you're both in was going to be bad for Max’s online reputation once the wrong pair of eyes manage to catch sight of you. You can already imagine what the headlines would be.

MAX VERSTAPPEN AND HIS FORMER MANAGER CAUGHT HUGGING IN A GASOLINE STATION AFTER AUSTIN GP.

MAX VERSTAPPEN AND FORMER RED BULL MANAGER IN A RELATIONSHIP?

FORMER RED BULL MANAGER POTENTIAL REASON FOR BREAKUP BETWEEN KELLY PIQUET AND MAX VERSTAPPEN?

MAX VERSTAPPEN CHEATED ON KELLY PIQUET WITH FORMER MANAGER?

MAX VERSTAPPEN, FULL-TIME WORLD TIME CHAMPION, PART-TIME CHEATING ASSHOLE.

God. You can already imagine the headache splitting the entire PR team’s skulls. The world already hates Max because of how good he was at his sport. You can’t allow people to shit on him more because of you.

“Max,” you try again, tapping his forearm so he can loosen his hold on you and you can turn around. “Max, baby, cooperate with me for a bit, yeah?”

You tug on his wrist and you can't help but sigh in relief when his arms loosen a little. He’s beginning to choke you a little bit. With his arms still around you, you pivot on your heels so you’re face-to-face with his broad chest.

When you look up to Max’s face, your heart shatters into a million pieces. His tears continue to flow and violent sobs wrack his entire body, robbing him of the ability to speak and barely allowing a breath to be drawn. He’s going to hyperventilate. Fucking dammit.

“Max,” how many times have you said his name in the last few minutes? “Hey, breathe with me.”

Your hand cradles his jaw and your eyes focused on his blue ones and fuck, they’re as insanely beautiful as you remembered.

“Breathe.”

You perform exaggerated inhales and exhales so Max can match your breaths, his hands settling on your shoulders. His palms feel heavy against your shoulders and his fingers dig deep into your skin.

“I’m here, Champ. I’m here,” you assure him. “I’m here now.”

You wait until he calms down a little and when he does, your right hand searches for his, intertwining your fingers together to assure him that you’re not going anywhere just yet. Your other hand comes up to hold the area below his neck and you slowly guide him back to his car. It’s a little difficult, Max obviously has no intention to let you go, but you know how to make things work.

Max sits on the driver's seat with you standing outside of the car. He's still clinging onto your hand and you use the other hand to hold the roof of the car for support. Max stopped crying now, staring blankly at you with a sad pout on his face. His tears are now dry, staining his cheeks.

“You okay now, Champ?” you ask, never failing to sound gentle. That's what Max needs now. Gentleness. God forbid you pull a Jos Verstappen.

Max shakes his hand, making you sigh deeply. Your eyes trail to the hands, the pale skin now an angry red.

“Max,” you call his attention. He looks up at you and you have to avoid his gaze because if you look at his face, your heart hurts. “I’ll get something from the mini-mart for your burn, aight?”

He shakes his head and his grip on your hand impossibly tightens. If he keeps this up, he’s going to break your bones.

“No.”

If you were the same person that you were in 2023, you would have let Max do what he wanted. What Max wanted, what Max shall get—that’s the philosophy you lived by. But things are different now. Leo told you that you’re allowing Max to take too much from you and Max needs to learn to actually listen to you.

You’ve been taught to treat even the most minor of burns as if it’s a major burn. That's what you are planning to do right now.

“Max,” you say, a little firmer now. “Gonna grab somethin’ in the mart real quick, you stay here, aight?”

“No—”

“Not askin’, Champ,” you interrupt him. “I'm not leavin’ yet, not goin’ anywhere until I make sure you’re okay. So stay here and wait.”

You swiftly remove the key attached to your belt and force it into his palm, “Here are my keys. I’m not goin’ to drive off and leave you here, aight? Do you trust me?”

You have a feeling that this anxiety of his might have stemmed from that one incident in his childhood where Jos left him at a gas station. Fucking son of a bitch that man was.

Hesitantly, Max says, “I do.”

“Good,” you ruffle his hair, dampening your palm.

You can see he does not like what you're doing now but he does not have any choice so he sits in the car, looking as pitiful as ever. You jog up to the mini-mart, immediately going to the beverage section to grab a bottle of water and passing by the hygiene shelf to snatch a handkerchief. You go to the counter and the middle aged guy manning the register obviously does not look impressed that you’re in his shop for the third time in the same hour, which is stupid because he should be glad that he has a customer. You put everything on the counter, pulling out some bills from your back pocket.

“You happen to have neosporin?” you ask.

“Do we look like a drug store?” he retorts. You roll your eyes, toss the bills to the cashier, and grab your items without even waiting for the guy to wrap them all up in a paper bag. You jog back to Max’s car.

“Excuse me,” you lean inside the car, opening the compartment to search for a burn cream you left inside there last year. Your eyes land on his keys, stiffening when you notice that Max kept every single gift you gave him. The bead keychain from 2020, the bottle opener keychain from 2021, the clay figure keychain from 2022, and the bracelet from 2023 sway slightly, staring back at you. You shake your head and resume doing your original mission. You find the burn cream and you immediately search for the expiration date. January 2025; it’s still good to use.

You straighten, take hold of Max’s wrist gently, and roll up his long sleeves up to his elbows. You open the water bottle and tug Max’s hand towards you so he won't get water on his car as you pour water on his burn. Once the bottle is nearly empty, you apply the cream on the reddened area of his skin. Then, you use the handkerchief, which you dampen using the leftover water, to dress it.

Max is silent the entire ordeal, watching you work your way meticulously and carefully around his hand. The same meticulousness one can expect from a former firefighter paramedic volunteer.

You step back to inspect your work, but Max’s hand stretches out towards you, grabbing the hem of your jacket.

“Sorry,” he says and yet you see his knuckles slowly turning white, which makes you unsure if he truly is apologetic or not. “Just…yeah, sorry. Can you stay for a while please?”

“Have to leave soon,” you say. “El Paso’s still hours away. I have to be there by morning.”

He nods, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, “Okay.”

“Thirty minutes, Max,” you decide. “Thirty minutes.”

You pull out your phone from your pocket to check the time and see the multiple notification bars. You type the password and direct to the message app to see the flurry of messages Max sent earlier. You have not noticed them.

max: i heard you came

max: where are you

max: please

max: can you give me ten minutes

max: just

max: please

max: wait for me

max: i’m not angry anymore

max: im begging you

max: or five minutes [name] im okay with just five

max: or even less

max: i just need to see you

“Who told you I was here?” you question, brows knitting together. There are currently two names in your head. They both start with the letter L and they both work at Williams.

“Leo called me and told me you were here.”

“Of course he did,” you roll your eyes. Logan will never dare betray you like this. You made Leo promise not to tell Max where you were in El Paso and the bitch told him where you were the moment you stepped out of El Paso. He didn't break his promise technically, but it's still a very bitch move for him to pull. You're going to have a lengthy conversation with him later.

“So you’ve been in El Paso?” he asks.

You nod.

“My grandparents’ place.”

He nods.

“Sorry about Julio, by the way.”

You sigh. God, you want to cry.

It's truly unfair how God decided to take away Julio [Last Name]. Death should happen to assholes and shitty people. To people who abuse their children every day. To people who waste years of their lifespan on nicotine and alcohol. To people who kill people. Death shouldn't happen to heroes, who risk every single day of their lives to save other people. Death shouldn't happen to Julio [Last Name], a firefighter who died saving a kid in a burning building. At least, not this early. Not until you fulfilled his dream for him.

(His last words: I don't regret doing what I did. I have kids, too. I want someone to save them the same way I did that kid if they ever get stuck in a situation like this.)

“Did Leo tell you that, too?” you hope that he didn't notice that your voice slightly wobbled.

“No,” Max shakes his head. “We—Logan and I came to Vista Del Pueblo in December. Your neighbor told us that…”

He doesn't need to finish his sentence for you to know what he’s trying to say.

You nod, “So that's why there was an article that day…”

You remember Damiano showing you the news article in his phone—AN UNLIKELY FRIENDSHIP: MAX VERSTAPPEN OF RED BULL RACING AND LOGAN SARGEANT OF WILLIAMS RACING SPOTTED DRIVING AROUND AUSTIN. You shrugged it off at that time.

“How are you?”

You turn to Max, raising a brow at his question.

“How am I?” you echo, sounding a little bewildered.

You see, Max has never asked this question. You're used to “Are you okay?” but not this. Not this question. You can easily lie to an are-you-okay. You can say yes even if you’re not, and you won't give yourself away because you only uttered one word. But with how-are-you, it’s different. It's not a question that is not answerable by yes or no. You actually have to explain how you feel. That's why Papa Julio only asked, “How are you, mija?” rather than “Are you okay, mija?” Papa Julio wants to know how your day went even if you're okay or not.

Yeah. You're definitely going to cry at this rate.

“How have you been after Julio?”

“You really wanna know?”

“I wanted to be there for you at that time,” Max confesses. “When I learned that Julio was gone, I wanted to go to you. But Leo stopped me. He said I was not what you needed at that time and I agree. I was too angry at you for leaving me. I’m glad he didn't tell me where you are, despite how painful it was. I was selfish and immature that I cared about my grief and forgot to consider yours. I reflected on my actions a lot. I am not sure how different I am now from that version of me but I think I changed a bit. So yes, [Name], I want to know, because I want to know how you felt and help you in any way I can.”

You stand there, stunned at what Max has said. And perhaps it was his sincerity or the way his determined blue eyes stare into your soul that caused the sixth domino to tip. You break into tears, a raw cry escaping your mouth. You are so fucking tired of carrying everything on your shoulders.

Max is quick to engulf you in a hug and you don't hesitate to pull him into you, pressing your face against his shoulders as you let everything out. You claw his back as if you're trying to mold himself into you. Your nose turns red, snot drips out of your nose. You sob too loud and too heavily that you can hardly draw a breath. You don't cry pretty and this is the first time you allowed yourself to cry with another person bearing witness to your fragility.

When you calmed down, you found yourself sitting beside Max, shoulder to shoulder, in the backseat of his car, playing with the drawstrings of your jacket.

“Sorry.”

“Don't be.”

“Sorry, I was just so tired,” you tip your head upwards. You can feel Max’s eyes on you. “Things have been hard since Papa died.”

“Do you want to talk? I’ll listen.”

You chuckle humorlessly.

Jesus, what did Leo feed this guy?

It feels like the roles are reversed now.

“Everybody's been takin’ it pretty hard so I'm trynna to be strong for them, you know? But I’m not that strong,” you begin. “I’m just as lost as everyone else and it's hard pretendin’ like I’m not. I’m not really sure what will happen with my life now so I wander around and do car repairs for a few folks in El Paso.”

“What happened to your dream? The job?”

“Well, it's gone,” you say, making Max’s eyes widen. “Not my time yet, I suppose. Or rather, I’m never supposed to have time. I guess I’m just not meant to be an engineer.”

“No,” Max turns to you, clasping your hands in desperation. “No, no, no. You always wanted to become an engineer. You can't just—I’ll think of something. I’ll ask Christian. I’ll ask the other teams. Renault isn't in Formula One right now but I can—”

“Max,” you smile sadly. “Let it go.”

“But—”

“Do you know what my Papa’s dream was?” you interrupt. “It’s to be a Formula One racer.”

You smile, remembering all the times you’ve seen your father watch the races on the television since you were younger. He’d wake up even in the ass crack of dawn just to watch them live. He’d be so tired after a 24-hour shift at the fire station but he’d refuse to even catch a wink of sleep until the Grand Prix broadcast is done. He always received a beating from your Mama because of it.

“He saw Senna in the newspaper and decided that he wanted to be like him, too. Sadly, Papa never vibed with a steering wheel so there was no future in that industry. He's always so disappointed in himself, sayin’ he can do the most unhinge shit at work but can't even drive a car. When Damiano and I turned five, he brought us karting. I could tell he was disappointed that Damiano didn't share his love for racing and I hated seein’ him sad so I learned to love karting. He signed me up and I did my best to win. I think I was good. Good enough to make him proud of me. Papa looked so happy when I won my first trophy. He cleaned it every week.”

You smile fondly at the memory.

“Then, shit happened and I have to stop. Papa looked even more disappointed than me that I had to stop. It hurts. Disappointment from your parents, I mean, even if I know that it's somethin’ beyond my control. I figured that if I can't be a racer, I’ll work in a pit stop. That's close enough. When I told him that I got accepted into USC and how I wanted to be an engineer, it was the proudest I have ever seen him since I won my trophy. I was livin’ his dream. I applied for Red Bull and Renault because those are Papa’s favorite teams and the rest is history.”

You pause.

“He’s never got to see me become an engineer,” you choke out, wiping the stray tear that fell from your eye with the back of your hand. “It was his dream. He always had his dreams broken and I was gonna reach his dreams for him but he’s gone before I can do so. Now, I’m so lost because I realized that I was shapin’ myself to become an extension of Papa and now that he's gone, I am an extension of no one. I was reaching for dreams that I don't own. I’m so tired and I’m so lost, Max.”

Max stares at you sadly.

“I should have talked to Christian sooner. Fuck, I hate myself for not talking to Christian. Fuck, why was I so selfish?” he presses the ball of his palms against his eyes in frustration. You chuckle, shaking your head.

“That’s okay,” you say. “I’ll find my way.”

You look at the scenery outside of the window. Night has fallen. You should have left for El Paso by now.

“I need to go,” you say, heart heavy.

“So soon?”

Max is panicking again.

“Jesus, Champ, calm down,” you pat his shoulders.

“Will I see you again?” Desperation laces his question.

“Dunno really,” you shrug.

“Can you wait for me?”

Your brows furrow.

“I’ll retire by 2028. No, that's still long. 2027. Ah no—2026? Can you wait for me? I—” Max’s hand trembles. “I love you. I love you, [Name]. I—I love you even before Kelly. I can’t. I can't lose you.”

The world stops.

“I am stupid, I am selfish, and I think I’m asking too much. If you can just wait for me, I’ll—I can even retire next year if you think it's too long—”

“Hold up right there, Champ,” you stop him. “You're not retirin’ early.”

“If you want me to, I will.”

You sigh in exasperation.

“Max,” your voice is low. “That’s your career. I’m not gonna—Jesus, Max don’t retire, okay? Not even for me. Retire only when you want to.”

This man is just…

You don't know if you want to choke him or kiss him.

“I want you to have me, [Name]. I… I want to be with you, to love you, and if retiring is the only way I can do that then I will,” he says. “I love you.”

You purse your lips.

“I love you, too, Max,” you confess and now, your chest feels lighter now that you've said it out loud. “But not now, I can't love you like this. I’m too… I can't pursue a relationship with you right now. Not when…”

“It's not our time,” Max nods. “I understand.”

He really did change.

“I want to find my way through life first," you tell him.

Max smiles and he pulls you again in a hug. He has tears in his eyes again and he sniffles, chuckling at himself for crying again. He pulls away from the hug slowly and hands you your keys.

“See you around?"

“See you around.”

You exit the car and you notice that your heart feels lighter now compared to the time you left Monaco even though you are doing the same exact thing—leaving Max to go home.

At the end of 2023, you grace the paddock with your presence—your signature YSL heels is back on the tracks. You wear pants now, instead of the corporate pencil skirts, matched with a Prema Racing polo shirt. The label at the back indicates: AERODYNAMIC ENGINEER. By the end of 2024, you are promoted to the strategy team. By 2025, you become a race engineer of an up-and-coming racing superstar and you kept the job position until now.

The world didn't end just because your Dad died. It took you a while to realize that your Papa didn't own your dreams. It was always yours to begin with. He just played a part in inspiring them.

Max Verstappen became the 2024, 2025, 2026, 2027, and 2028 WDC, marking history as an eight-time consecutive champion. He retired after the 2028 season and disappeared from the face of the Earth. He had stopped going home to his penthouse in Monaco, had put his private jet on sale, and had cut ties to his father, Jos, who was very disappointed that his son had retired too early in the sport. Max retired willingly—he had achieved more awards than most of his seniors and it's time to give room to the younger ones. Rumors say that he had established a racing program somewhere in Belgium. Charles Leclerc, Max's friend, refuses to update the media regarding Max's whereabouts and only says: "He's happy. Don't worry."

Years later, a thirteen-almost-fourteen year-old girl named Emiliana Julia Verstappen, racing under the American flag, become the youngest driver in history to join the ranks of the F1 academy and later, she becomes the youngest driver to ever drive a Formula One car, racing for Scuderia Ferrari as second driver, at only seventeen and a hundred and fifty days old, overthrowing Max Emilian Verstappen, retired eight-time F1 WDC, whom the world has not seen since his retirement, from the list.

#max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #f1 imagines #fanfic #manager!reader #mv33 x reader #mv1 x reader

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musicandoldmovies · 1 year

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The Godfathers - Birth, School, Work, Death

#the godfathers #birth school work death

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aethelwyneleigh27 · 6 months

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Some Dad!Cod Character Scenario and Appreciation Post

Characters In Mind: Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, Alex Keller, König, Keegan P. Russ, Gary "Roach" Sanderson.

The original creator of the picture, they also have so many works that are used in so many fanfics as well so please credit her. I found her account here on Tumblr (@ave661) and here is the post.

AFAB!Reader and used pronouns are "you"

Apologies if this is a bit too short but;

ꕥ HOPE YOU ENJOY! ꕥ

A/n: I've had a good but also bad week (good thanks to @puff0o0 and other extremely sweet mutuals), it's neutral, I'm not here to rant of any sort but my personal life has not been good. I understand that not everyone will like me but it feels as though everyone hates me, most of those people happen to be at school. Sure I'm not really going to do anything about it because I prefer avoiding conflict but those same people are trying to flip the story around as if I'm the one who hates them when in reality I don't and by being mean to me they're giving me a reason to dislike them. Sure I'm average academically, sometimes I have difficulty pulling my weight in group works and I'm not outstanding in reportings but we all have our difficulties. I just don't understand people who love to hate on others because they have nothing better to do.

This is a word of advice to everyone, don't let others let you feel insignificant, you aren't and you have many talents that make you different from them. (I don't really practice what I preach because I love self-deprication, however I don't want people to feel the way I do because I know what it can cause)

Disclaimers/warnings: OOC??, Pregnancy, Implied birth, Children (Pretty sure that was obvious from the title), People who don't want/hate children be warned.

Short note: This is also a dedication to all the Mistki and Hozier fans out there <3

He was so used to the smell of hospitals, the smell of medication, it always indicated death for him but this was a whole new feeling. It was the opposite of what he has seen most of his life

So much so that he refused to hold them, afraid of potentially hurting the fragile little one. He looked at you as if you were crazy when you tried to hand him the baby, "Come on now love, you can't just avoid holding them forever" you said to him as of it was a life or death situation.

Hesitantly letting you guide him through the proper way to hold them, he felt his breath hitch at the sound of cooing. The first time the baby opened it's eyes, the first thing they saw being their dad.

The moment he looked at the baby sealed it, he was going to protect them their whole life, he would go as far as feeling all the guilt of having blood on their hands again if it meant your baby would be protected and cared for.

The baby was so small that it's little head was practically the size of his palm, he didn't know initially what to do when the baby cried and shocked himself when he managed to make them stop.

Once the baby was old enough to crawl, he'd let the baby crawl all over him. The little one babbling non-sense while he just chuckled and replied as if he understood what the baby was saying. Gods be damned if he misses an important milestone such as their first word or their first time walking.

You'd often wake up to seeing him shirtless snoozing on the couch, the tv playing only ads for home appliances late at night while the baby only in a diaper having skin to skin contact with their dad, his huge hand big enough to support the little one from falling.

He almost cried the first time your baby reached for his face an touched it, resting it's tiny little fingers on his cheek, giving him a gummy smile. His little one unaware that they just healed something they never broke.

He NEVER wants to ever see your little one grow up, though sure it makes more memories with them, sometimes they just wish time stops for a second so they can enjoy the moment longer.

Initially was terrified that he'd pass his trauma down but he realized that wouldn't be possible and he will NOT ever let them go through what he did.

Eventually chose to resign from his work because the risk was far too much, what if he died? He'd leave you and your child to grieve over him? He won't be there for them growing up and he'd miss everything.

Sure he's worked most his life to get where he is now but nothing is ever worth more than spending a lifetime with you and your child together. He's been lonely almost all his life until he met you.

You are his family, his everything. He promised that whatever happens, he'll crawl home to you...

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dotster001 · 1 year

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Househusband Au HC'S

Summary:Crewel/Crowley/Vil/Rook/Malleus/Idia x gn!reader

Requested by @stygianoir

A/N: my tag list is still packed so hopefully you guys find this 😂

CW:sus gardener Rook, discussions of Idia's depression and fear of death, but I think that's it

Part Two. Part Three

Most well dressed parent at the PTA meeting. Puts everyone to shame, and makes all the other parents and teachers jealous.

Cooks five star meals exclusively , and makes sure you get your proper intake of nutrients. He can't have his favorite pup lacking in proper nutrition!

One hundred percent coordinates your outfits for you everyday. You're the best dressed worker, all because your husband hand sews you outfits designed to blow the competition out of the water.

Pretends he's not snuggly, until nighttime, then he gets pouty. He'll be aggressively folding laundry, and not speaking to you until you come to bed and let him hold you.

You own twelve dogs. Each dog has an individual diet it is on, that is hand made by him everyday. He knows exactly what every dog needs, and makes sure to memorize what each dog needs.

If you want kids, you will adopt/birth at least three. He likes a full house. Majored in alchemy before he settled down as your househusband, and is more than happy to tutor not just your kids, but also their friends, in alchemy.

Sings like Roger from 101 dalmatians because I said so. Also he plays the piano like him. Because I said so. I'm weak okay!

They say he had an illustrious career as a model, then he met you. That's only half true though. He was planning on retiring anyway, and just happened to meet you around that time. He likes to let the tabloids believe it was all your fault. It makes him laugh. Vil Schoenheit bows to no one! Now drink your smoothie!

Healthy meals constantly. He somehow managed to make them all taste good though. It's a little suspicious honestly…what does he put in that smoothie? You never liked smoothies for breakfast before…

He likes to do your nightly routine for you. It's his love language. At 7 pm sharp, he clears his throat, and gestures for you to sit down. Then he brushes out your hair, does your skin care routine, dresses you in pajamas, and tucks you in, making sure to give you a kiss on the forehead before he joins you.

If you aren't home in time for your nightly routine, he goes to bed early, turned away from your side of the bed. He will not speak to you, even though you know full well he is awake. He knows deep down it's not your fault, but he has simmering rage and no one else to take it out on.

That said, when you do fight (which you do a lot) he'll storm out before he can be particularly nasty. But you'll wake up to a single rose on the pillow next to you, and a new pair of shoes to wear to work.

You have one fluffy white cat, or one child. It's one or the other in Vil's pristine house. This isn't a barn, for seven's sake.

Cooks, cleans, gardens…. he's made for this life. You don't even know where he gets the time for it.

Rook prides himself on having the best garden in the neighborhood. Your neighbors asked him what fertilizer he used, and he wrapped an arm around you and giggled about how it was "the most organic around". Considering the last time you had to do laundry there were red stains on his clothes, you choose not to ask questions.

If you have kids, there are three of them, each two years apart. He makes the perfect paper bag lunches for them everyday, with little french notes in them (raising bilingual kids in this family). As he drops them off at school he kisses each one on the top of the head, and jovially waves them off.

You have two dogs that he takes hunting with him on his solo weekends (they aren't often, because he can barely stand to part from you!) But you also have a rabbit. He gave it your name, and likes to tease you by saying how he "caught his lapin" and never saying whether he's referring to you or the rabbit.

Another one who makes sure you look your best at work. But his favorite thing is when you forget your lunch, and he "has" to bring it to work for you. This is when he is at his most dressed up, and your outfits compliment eachother the most. He loves the gazes of envy that come his way as he kisses you and hands you your lunch.

When he's not doing chores at break neck speed, he wants you to either be in his arms, or him in yours. He doesn't care which! Please, his poor heart needs you!

Trust fund baby. Born rich, then married you. Tried to convince you not to work, but you wanted to, for whatever reason, so he "allows" it. (Who is he kidding? He could never deny you anything, what a simp) he sulks all day though, moping like a lovesick teen until you come home. Heaven forbid you forget something and have to come back in before you actually left, because he has your boss on speed dial, and will call you in sick. Oh, you just left your wallet? Too late, he assumed you had fallen ill and had chosen to stay home with him!

He's a little clueless on cooking and household chores (Lilia is no help) but he tries! Boy does he try! And it's not half bad. Not stellar, but not bad. You've only gotten food poisoning once, and he's only ever burnt a hole in two of your shirts with an iron.

Loves to serenade you with his violin on special occasions. You know the evening is going to be wonderful when he pulls it out. Oftentimes, it's a song he wrote for you, and sometimes he even sings along. His deep timbre will often have you so relaxed that you start to drift off. He's fine with that! More time to cuddle!

Speaking of, he starts the night out by laying on his side of the bed, and by the end of the night he is wrapped around you like a koala. He also gets very hot at night. You often don't need a blanket. You asked him about it once, and he said something about "draconic internal temperature regulation", whatever the fuck that means.

You had to put him on a budget because he buys you every shiny thing he sees. He always goes over budget, and always insists it's the last time and it will never happen again. This, friends, is what we call a lie.

He's only a househusband in name, really. He still has an income/job in the form of streaming and YouTube videos. But he stays at home, and likes it when you call him your househusband. He gets all blushy and smiley. He likes the idea of being the one you look forward to coming home to.

Ortho lives with you both, obviously. And he does all the cooking and cleaning. But he and Idia have an unspoken agreement that if you ask, he helped too.

Calls you at work at least once a day. It's always during your lunch break though, so that you can "eat lunch together" You know his mental health difficulties are acting up if he calls you more than once though.You don't have to come home, he'll be alright, he just needs to hear your voice.

His stream only knows you as player 2. When you get back from work, he'll say "Oh player 2 just got home!" And get so excited. He'll run off stream to give you a kiss, and won't come back until you remind him he's streaming. His followers have been there through the whole progression of your relationship, and despite not knowing what you look like, and only hearing your voice off screen every once in a while, they adore Gloomy Samurai and Player 2.

You always have two cats at a time, usually the ones at the shelter or humane society that are bonded or siblings. He doesn't want to separate a family, and also gets nervous about the inevitability of death. So you always have two cats. That way if something happens you always have one.

Yes. You get him to start telehealth therapy, and medication. Why do you ask?

He tries, bless his heart. His cooking is not bad, but his cleaning skills are subpar. To be honest, he's not cut out for the househusband life, but you've heard horror stories about how he handled his previous jobs. So for the sake of the world, you do your best to ensure he stays here.

"He's so generous" 🙄 Any time he goes a little bit above what you expected from him, he drops that line. A particularly good dessert? How generous. He actually folded laundry today? So magnanimous. But it hurts his pride if you don't agree, and you married him for some reason, right?

He has an allowance, and usually spends all of it. Sometimes it's gifts for you, but a lot of times it's for him. Which, it's his allowance, so that's fine. But he buys the weirdest stuff and doesn't use it. It just sits around your home.

If you have to work on something on the home computer, good luck to you. Home is for loving him, not working! He'll slip into your lap, give you a sexy pout, and start caressing your cheek, and tracing shapes into your neck. Then he'll start talking about how you're neglecting him, just put the work away and come cuddle with him.

Where he shines though, is if you guys end up with kids. He's a surprisingly good father, making sure they all are clean, safe, and well fed. He helps with homework, and is surprisingly good at it, he's good at seeing what their needs are, he knows immediately when one of the kids is sick, and is at the doctor right away… you don't know where these skills came from. But the second the kids are in bed, he's back to being your needy husband.

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 3 months

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MLK at 95.

January 15, 2024

ROBERT B. HUBBELL

Martin Luther King, Jr. was born 95 years ago on January 15, 1929. As a Baptist minister, he advocated non-violence while promoting civil rights. He spoke for the poor, the oppressed, and the disenfranchised. While he was imprisoned in a Birmingham jail for protesting segregation, he responded to eight white ministers who had criticized him for participating in protests that they described as “unwise and untimely.”

Dr. King’s famous reply to the white ministers explained why he traveled to Birmingham from Atlanta to protest:

I cannot sit idly by in Atlanta and not be concerned about what happens in Birmingham. Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly. Never again can we afford to live with the narrow, provincial outside agitator" idea. Anyone who lives inside the United States can never be considered an outsider.

While Dr. King was keenly aware of the racism that served as the understructure of the Christian church in the old South, he would be shocked by the virulent, mean-spirited, anti-Christian message that animates many (not all) evangelical congregations in America today. They form the backbone of Donald Trump's support in Iowa and beyond. They have adopted Trump's message that treats the poor, oppressed, and disenfranchised as “outsiders” and “others” who do not belong in America.

Over the last several days, we have learned that members of the Texas National Guard physically blocked federal Border Patrol agents from responding to reports of immigrants in distress in the Rio Grande. The bodies of a mother and two children were later recovered from the river in the area where immigrants were reported to be in distress.

Texas, of course, denies that its cruel actions caused the drownings—a denial that should be viewed skeptically from a state whose governor—Greg Abbott—recently commented Texas troopers could not shoot immigrants crossing the border because the troopers would be charged with murder by the Biden administration. Texas governor criticized after comment about shooting migrants | The Texas Tribune.

Similar animus underlies the recent comments of Mississippi Governor Tate Reeves, who withdrew Mississippi from a federal program to provide food to school children during summer breaks. Governor Reeves said Mississippi withdrew from the program to fight “attempts to expand the welfare state.”

Blocking efforts to rescue a drowning mother and her children? Regretting the inability to shoot immigrants because it would be murder? Denying food to poor children out of spite? Who are these people? How do they look at themselves in the mirror?

Ninety-five years after Dr. King’s birth and fifty-five years after his death, it is difficult to believe that people who identify as upstanding members of the Christian church can support such actions.

Another section from Dr. King’s Letter from a Birmingham Jail is relevant to this moment in our nation’s history:

But the judgment of God is upon the church as never before. If the church of today does not recapture the sacrificial spirit of the early church, it will lose its authentic ring, forfeit the loyalty of millions, and be dismissed as an irrelevant social club with no meaning for the twentieth century. I meet young people every day whose disappointment with the church has risen to outright disgust.

Dr. King’s words were prophetic. See Pew Research (10/17/19) In U.S., Decline of Christianity Continues at Rapid Pace.

And, of course, as Dr. King recognized, “there are some notable exceptions” among church leaders who supported his work—just as there are exceptions today. Several readers have recommended Faithful America as an antidote to Christian nationalism. The organization’s helpful FAQ page explains why “Christian nationalism” is not Christian. See Resisting Christian Nationalism: FAQ + Resources | Faithful America.

On this day commemorating Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s birth, we can see how far we have come—and how much further we must go. He didn’t despair. Neither should we.

Robert B. Hubbell Newsletter

#MLK #David Horsey #political cartoons #Martin Luther King Jr #justice #equality #economic equality #Robert B. Hubbell #Robert b. Hubbell newsletter

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redstarwriting · 11 months

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hobie brown x o’hara!reader

request?: yes

request: “I know you’re probably busy 🙏🏽 but can I request a hobie x reader Where reader is miguels kid but from another universe and we were known as “dangerous” to the multiverse and miguel had to watch over us and we find out while hanging out with hobie and hobie has to comfort us as we try to process the fact that Miguel wasn’t our real dad and just someone keeping the mutliverse safe?

I really hope this makes sense i just don’t know how to make is make sense uk? 😭 💀”

requested by: @millerworld

word count: 1.7k

genre: angst with some fluff

Warnings: language, mentions of childbirth death, big feelings of betrayal, probably horrible spanish, honestly a lot of angst

A/N: apologies for the wait for this one! i love writing angst though so i was rubbing my hands together like an evil lil bitch writing this. i apologize if the spanish is wrong/not how it would actually be said/worded. been a minute since i took a spanish course, so i am a little rusty. please enjoy, and thank you so much for requesting, love! :)

───────────────────────────────────

Ever since you remembered your dad, Miguel O’Hara, was there. Of course, there are certain moments of your childhood you don’t remember, as every child has, but your earliest memory is your dad picking you up and soothing you as you cried at two years old. And ever since then, he was always there. Your friends at school would always say you were so lucky that you had a dad that was so devoted to you, and you agreed. To an extent. See, he was very particular about what he allowed you to do. It wasn’t in a negative way, necessarily, he was just protective. His favorite saying and your least favorite saying in your house was ‘I just want what’s best for you, cariño.’

It resulted in you staying home from school events, friend events, and generally any type of event where your safety could have been compromised. It caused you to be a bit of a loner, always hearing about the parties, the gossip, all of it instead of actually experiencing it for yourself.

Of course, it annoyed you.

It still does.

He’s loosened up a bit eventually, though, allowing you to go to work with him. Which also meant you got to meet many spiders. Quite a few of the spider-people quickly became your closest friends, as it was simpler and easier for your dad to keep tabs on you in Spider Society. Much to his chagrin, you quickly became best friends with Hobie Brown. The two of you were around the same age, and since you were annoyed at your dad and in your rebellious era, you got along swimmingly. A little too swimmingly, actually, which Miguel purposefully chose to ignore for the most part. Until he saw Hobie sucking his little one’s face off. Regardless, Hobie was always quick to validate all your conflicted, annoyed, and even positive feelings about your father. He even helped you come out of your shell and rebel against Miguel occasionally.

Miguel didn’t like this very much, but he also knew that Hobie was still a good influence on you. No matter how many times both of you tried to convince him that he wasn’t. But sometimes, Hobie would talk you into doing things that he very much disliked. Hated, even. And this time was one of those times. While he was out, containing a particularly difficult anomaly, Hobie convinced you to search through Miguel’s personal files on his supercomputer because he bet if your birth certificate would be anywhere, it would be there. When you found a folder with your name, you expected to open it to see some family pictures, hoping for your birth certificate with the name of your mom. Your dad never really talked about your mom, just that she passed away during childbirth. You stopped asking because every time you did, he would get very quiet and a guilty look would appear on his face. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious. So you went into this endeavor excited to see what you might find out. Unfortunately, that excitement didn’t last for very long. See when you opened your file expecting these mundane things, that wasn’t what you were met with.

In fact, that was nowhere near what you found.

You found detailed notes all about you.

“What the hell,” you mumble, scrolling through the various pictures of you as an infant, with two adult strangers. Hobie said nothing, looking at all the pictures and skimming the important parts of all the files you were pulling up with a frown on his face. You stop on a specific picture of a woman holding you in a hospital bed. She was smiling.

And she was very much alive.

Tears immediately start to well up in your eyes as Hobie gently pulls your hands away from the computer. “Think that’s enough a’ that, love,” he says softly. You yank your arms away from him. “No.” You scroll to the next photo, seeing a man you’ve never met before holding you in the same hospital room, with the same strange woman right next to him. The next time you scroll, it’s a detailed account from Miguel about who you are. Notes from your dad declaring you a ‘danger’ and that you ‘must be contained somehow.’ Talk of your biological parents, their names, and how you had to be separated from them before ‘irreversible damage was done to the multiverse.’

You stare at the screen, and Hobie pulls your hands away again, successfully this time. He steps between you and the screens, blocking your view and slowly walking you backward and away from the files. You’re too shocked to say anything, the only thing you can do is quietly cry. Hobie opens his mouth to say something when Miguel’s voice rings out. “What do the two of you think you’re doing?”

The two of you turn your heads toward Miguel, and his annoyed frown turns to one of concern as soon as he sees the look on your face. “¿Qué tienes, mi corazón?” Miguel asks, his voice much softer as he approaches you. Hobie moves, positioning himself between you and your ‘father,’ and scoffs. “Think you got some explainin’ to do ‘ere, mate,” Hobie says, and Miguel looks at him confused. Then he sees what’s on the screen. A look of horrified realization spreads across his face, and he looks at you. “(Y/n), cariño, I can explain.”

“Don’t call me that,” your voice, albeit shaky, finally comes back to you. Hobie turns his attention to you, squeezing the hand you’ve been holding onto for dear life ever since he pulled you away from the computer. “(Y/n)—”

“Who am I? Who are you to me?”

“…Please, let me—”

“WHO ARE THOSE PEOPLE?!” you shout, desperately yearning for your dad to say they weren’t what was said in his reports. But all he does is frown. “They’re… they are your biological parents,” he confesses, and you make a choked noise. Hobie subtly begins turning his watch to his universe, ready to make an escape from your dad at any point. “If you just let me explain—”

“I’m a threat to the multiverse?” you choke out through your tears, “What the fuck does that mean, papá?! If I can even call you that.” Miguel’s jaw clenches. “Don’t forget who raised you.”

“How could I?! How could you?! Is this why you never let me do anything?! Too worried your querido bebecito would destroy the fucking multiverse?!”

“(Y/n). I did it to protect everyone.”

“What about me?! Did you ever plan on telling me?! How is separating me from my family protecting me?!” Hobie places an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer and keeping you shielded by him as Miguel tries to step closer to you. Miguel glares at him, and Hobie glares back. Miguel holds out his hand in a surrendering way. “It was to protect you just as much, if not more, as it was to protect everyone else. If you would just listen—“

“No. No, I’m done listening to you.”

“Cariño—”

“I am not tú cariño. I am not tú corazoón. You are not mi papá,” you say, venom behind your words. You can practically see Miguel’s heart shatter into tiny little pieces.

That was the worst thing you could have ever said to him.

Before he can say anything else, Hobie opens the portal, pulling you through and closing it almost immediately. You find yourself in the familiar atmosphere of his flat. “C’mere, love,” he mumbles, pulling you into his arms. You grip his shirt, sobbing into his chest as he rocks you back and forth, softly shushing you occasionally and rubbing your back. After what feels like hours, but was really maybe a minute, he swiftly picks you up, carrying you bridal style to his bed as you continue to cry into his shirt. He sits down, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head and rubbing up and down your arm. He can’t help but feel guilty for this. If he didn’t convince you to look at the computer…

“Don’t blame yourself, Hobie… please,” you whimper, and he sighs. “Love, you needa stop bein’ so good at knowin’ what i’m thinkin’,” he mumbles, and you look up at him with a soft smile. “Can’t help it. Even your thoughts are loud,” you say, and he snorts. “Chuffed to see the cryin’ made ya feel better,” he says and you shake your head. “I still feel like shit, Hobie,” you whisper, and he frowns. He gently wipes some tears away from your cheeks. “Reckon all ‘at cryin’ has you knackered?” he mumbles, and you nod softly. He lays backwards, maneuvering the two of you to be laying down. The two of you face each other, one of his hands cradling the side of your face while the other soothingly rubs up and down your side. You grip onto his shirt, and he places a soft peck on your nose. “‘m sorry, love,” he says, and you sniffle. “I already told you it isn’t your fault.”

“‘Kay, still feel like it was,” he says, and you sigh. “That’s not important right now,” he mumbles, gently pulling you closer. “What’s important is that I make you feel better.” You look at him, your eyes are still glossy from tears. “Never met someone who looked so stunnin’ when they cry,” he says, gently stroking your cheek. You smile softly, and he does too. “There’s my favorite smile,” he whispers before softly placing his lips on yours. It’s only for a second, but it makes all the pain go away. And you’re grateful for that. Even if it is just for a second. “Get some sleep, love.” He kisses your forehead, tangling his legs with yours and pulling your head into his chest. You relax into him. He was right. The crying was exhausting. Before you know it, you’re asleep as Hobie gently traces shapes into your skin, whispering anything and everything he loves about you to you so softly that if you weren’t really listening, you wouldn’t hear any of it. No one makes you feel protected quite like Hobie does.

And even if it’s just for a moment, thanks to Hobie, you feel like everything will be okay.

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#hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x you #spiderpunk x reader #spiderverse x reader #o'hara!reader #dad!miguel #hobie brown #hobie #miguel o'hara #spiderverse

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eternalsams · 11 months

Text

Hold My Hand ⇴ J.Seresin

pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader

warnings/content: fluff, childhood friends to lovers, divorced parents, smut, oral (fem receiving), p in v, protected sex (wrap it up kids!), cum eating, pregnancy, pregnancy and birth inaccuracies, angst, complicated birth, c-section, death, grief, depression, mention of child neglect

summary: 5 times you held Jake's hand and the one time you couldn't (+1 bonus).

word count: 6.6k

a/n: English isn't my first language, please take that into consideration. Also, this is my first time writing a smut so please be indulgent. Thank you!

masterlist

ONE

Jake and you met when you were four and him six. Forget about that whole "your moms were best friends" or "you were neighbors since you were born". No. Your mom and his first met each other at your wedding actually but that's a story for another time. Jake and you met at the park during a summer afternoon. You were playing in the sandpit, trying to build a sand castle with the little plastic bucket your dad bought for you the week before. You were trying to keep it standing tall but it would always eventually crumble and fall apart. The frustration started to build up in you and you threw the bucket away from you, crossing your arms on your chest and pouting. You were about to stand up and go find your dad but a little boy, a bit older than you stood before you. "You need to add a little bit of water." You frowned and stayed silent, watching the boy pick up your bucket and grab a bottle of water from the back pack on his shoulders.

You watched closely as he filled the bucket with sand and poured a bit of water. He stirred everything with his bare hands and he overturned the bucket on the ground before lifting it up gently. The pout on your face fell and was replaced by a surprised expression when you saw the sand stay still. You looked up at the boy with parted lips and then back down at the first tower of your castle. The boy slightly laughed at your expression and he started filling up the bucket with sand to make a new tower. You were quick to stop him by grabbing the bucket and filling it up yourself. When you were done, you reached to grab the bottle of water but he was already holding it. "Wait. You do the sand, I do the water. Team work." A smile took place on your face and you nodded excitedly.

The two of you worked perfectly together and you ended up building a big sand castle. The boy was nice, he did as he said, he let you build your castle and he only helped you with the water. When you were done with the castle, you turned to him and wrapped your arms around him, thanking him for his help. He hugged you back and contemplated your work. You pulled away from him and walk around the castle, admiring it. "I'm Jake." He introduced himself, drawing your attention back to him. "I'm Y/N." You smiled at him before you heard the ice-cream man unique melody. You turned around and saw the vending truck parking next to the park. You jumped up and down and grabbed Jake's hand before running to your dad to ask for an ice-cream. Jake smiled at the feeling of your small hand in his and he followed you, smiling politely at your father when he asked him if he also wanted an ice-cream.

TWO

You were now eighteen and getting ready for your second date with Jake. You realized you had feelings for your best friends years ago and you talked about it with him but you also wanted to graduate from high school before starting anything. You knew how much of a distraction he could be for you, even without trying to be, and you also knew that if you started a relationship with him before graduating, you wouldn't graduate at all. So you told him you wanted to wait, but what you didn't expect was that he would wait for you too. You thought he would have some dates with girls from high school and since he was two years older than you, you thought college would change his mind and that he would forget about you. But he didn't. You've never seen him with a single girl at his arm, never seen him look at any girl the way he looked at you. And when graduation day finally came, he asked you out, even asked your dad if that was okay with him if he brought you to a nice restaurant. And that's what he did, he brought you to a really nice restaurant but not too fancy. It wasn't awkward as you thought it would. You laughed, chatted and acted like you used to but there was something else. Some glances, some touches, that's what made the difference with all the other nights out.

And tonight would be your second date, he told you he'd surprise you, not to dress too fancy. So you opted for a nice sundress with a cardigan and some old school converse shoes. You heard the door bell ringing and smiled before running down the stairs, quickly kissing your dad's cheek who was holding the front door open for you. You locked eyes with Jake and smiled at him before he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and kissed your head. "You look amazing." He murmured against your hair. "Don't stay out too late, kids, okay?" Your dad made sure to remind you. "Don't worry, I'll bring her home in one piece." Jake smiled at your father, the two men always laughing together, you were glad the two of them got along. "12am, not later than. Understood?" The elder man said as Jake walked you to his truck. "Sir, yes Sir." He mock-saluted before you heard the front door close behind you. "So... Where are you taking me tonight?" You asked him as he held the passenger door open for you. "Get in the car and see for yourself." He winked and closed the door when he made sure you were comfortably seated. He jogged around the truck and sat down behind the wheel.

He turned to you and smirked before quickly glancing at the back seats. You frowned and turned your head, discovering a blanket and a bag full with food. "We're having a picnic?!" You asked excitedly when you turned back to him. He nodded, started the car and pulling it in drive before getting out of your driveway. The drive was silent but not awkward, only the radio was faintly playing the summer hits and Jake was tapping his fingers in rhythm on the steering wheel while you quietly hummed the melody. Jake eventually parked next to a lake, the sun set reflecting on the water. You grabbed the blanket and he took the bag before he led you on the lakeside, under a weeping willow. It was really nice, romantic and intimate, cutting you from the outside world. You settled everything and sat down on the blanket. Just like your first date, you laughed, talked and this time, you even cuddled on the blanket. Even though it was summer and the days were hot, the fresh air of the evening was giving you goosebumps and Jake noticed it immediately, wrapping you in his arms.

He checked his watch and saw that it was almost 11:30. He kissed your hair and leaned over to whisper in your ear. "I should get you home, I don't want your dad to cancel our weekly football training." Oh yeah, that was something else your dad and Jake shared. Since the moment Jake told him he loved and played football, your dad made sure to play with him. Jake was already part of the family at that point. You nodded and helped him getting everything back in the bag before walking to the truck. As promised, Jake got you home before 12 and he walked you to the front door. You were looking down at your feet, feeling your cheeks blushing hard by the proximity. You stopped on the porch and Jake cleared his throat. "That was really nice." You looked up at him and smiled softly, standing on your tip toes to kiss his cheek. At the last moment, Jake turned his head and your lips landed on his for a second. You pulled back, eyes wide and your face as hot as a grill. "It was." He smiled at you before taking a step closer, if that was even possible. He slid his hands on your waist and looked down at you. You realized just now how tall he was. "Was that okay with you?" He asked, a bit concerned about your silence. You simply nodded and put your hands on his shoulders. "Can I do it again?" You nodded again and he smiled gently before leaning down and tilting your head slightly back so he could have better access to your lips.

The kiss was oh so gentle, you didn't really know how to kiss him back properly so you just moved slightly your lips against his, tasting him for the first time. That only had a growl coming out of him and you grew eager to hear him do that again. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kept tasting his lips. You felt his fingers dig into your hips, earning him a small moan from your lips. And that's when he decided it was enough for tonight, he didn't want to lose control over himself on your father's porch. He pulled away and rested his forehead on yours, keeping his eyes closed. You, on the other hand, opened your eyes and searched to meet his gaze. You licked your lips, the need to keep the taste of him there, and scratched nervously at his neck. "Did I do something you didn't like?" Your voice was quivering with anxiety and he opened his eyes, finally having back the control over his own body. He smiled softly and crossed your gaze. "No... You did something I really liked, that's why I needed to stop for a moment." He felt his cheeks heating up. "Oh..." You tried to contain your cheeky smile but he saw it. "I'll call you tomorrow. Have a good night..." He whispered against your lips before pecking them and pulling away from you, taking your hands in his and squeezing them. He started stepping back but you kept one of his hands in yours, not wanting to say goodnight yet. You watched him step away from you but not looking away, the same stupid smile on his lips than on yours. You eventually felt his fingers slip from yours and he walked down the porch before glancing back at you. You smiled lovingly and waved at him before grabbing your keys and opening the front door silently not to wake up your dad. You looked back one last time and saw Jake raising his fist in the air before getting in his truck and driving away.

THREE

You grabbed the keys from Jake's hand a ran to the house in front of you, screaming excitedly. You were 26 and he was 28 at that time. You'd been together for eight years and Jake was a Top Gun graduate, you were starting your own little bookshop in town, everything was going perfectly. So you decided to finally settle down together and when you found that adorable little house in this amazing neighborhood, you couldn't resist. You and Jake moved in California, next to the Miramar base, it was easier for him and a new adventure for you. Jake followed after you, running and laughing, asking you to slow down and wait for him. But you just couldn't wait, that was your first house with Jake, the first time you would live together. And you really hope it would be your last too, that you would start a family of your own in between these walls and hear children laughter in the backyard. You unlocked the front door before feeling strong arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you up from the floor and swooping you in his arms. He opened the door and walked in with you bridal style. "Home sweet home." He said before kissing you and putting you down on the floor. You smiled against his lips and pulled back, looking around you. The house was still empty, the moving trucks would bring everything the next day. You made sure to have the necessary today, as in a mattress and some food in the fridge.

"I can't believe we just did it. We have our own house." You wrapped your arms around his neck and looked up at him lovingly. "Our own home." He said in turn before dipping you and kissing you, making you giggle. He brought you back up but kept his lips on yours, parting your lips to taste you. He gently tapped your thigh and you jumped, wrapping your legs around his waist as he held you against him, his hands firmly on your ass. "Where's the bedroom again?" He asked between two heated kisses. You laughed and indicated the way and before you knew it, he got on his knees and laid you down on the mattress. You could feel the hardness of the floor under it but you didn't care. In just a matter of days, this place would be perfect and comfortable for the both of you. Jake's lips travelled down your jaw until they reached the pulse point behind your ear, making you whimper. You grabbed his shirt and tugged at it, trying to take it off of him. You just wanted to feel his skin against yours. His hands were everywhere but nowhere at the same time, they were roaming along his sides, you could feel his fingers toying with the hem of you shirt, which was extremely frustrating. "Stop teasing, Jake..." You closed your eyes and tugged on his shirt to help him get rid of it. He only chuckled and unbuckled his belt before you opened his pants and slid them down his legs with your feet, taking his boxer briefs with them along the way. He stepped back and kicked them off before returning to you.

You looked at him up and down, mostly down. His hard length at attention against his stomach. "I think you're a bit overdressed..." He cocked his head to the side and smiled down at you. "Then help me, Lieutenant." You murmured in his ear and bit on his earlobe, making him growl. His hands were back on your body and he nearly ripped your shirt out of you before unclasping your bra and taking your breast in his mouth. He swirled your left nipple around his tongue while he massaged your right breast in his hand. You arched your back, pushing your chest into his mouth and he started undoing your jeans. He slid his fingers into your panties and chuckled against your sensitive skin. "So wet already..." Two of his fingers gathered up your arousal and he started circling expectedly your clit. A lewd moan passed your lips and you grabbed his upper arm, squeezing the muscle to anchor yourself. His lips left your breast and he kissed his way down your body, sucking here and there before soothing the bruising skin with his tongue. "Jake..." You whimpered, getting impatient. "What is it, baby?" He glanced up at you, applying just the right pressure on your clit to make you mewl. "Just fuck me already... Please!" Your hand went down to run through his ruffled hair and tug at it. "Right away, Ma'am." He kissed the skin right under your navel and slid your jeans down your legs, discovering the lacy panties you were wearing. "So pretty, baby." His fingers left your clit to slide your panties to the side and he kept his face right in front of your cunt or what seemed to be hours for you. You were about to push your pussy on his face when you felt his tongue tasting you a first time, having you gasp his name. His hands kept your legs wide open while he started devouring you like a starved man.

"This is getting on my way, actually." He said before ripping your panties and throwing them over his shoulders. "Jake!" You shouted at him but he was already face buried in your cunt. "I'll buy you others." He groaned against you and a shiver ran down your spine, the vibrations of his voice bringing you close to the edge. He wrapped his arms around your thighs and you planted your heels on his shoulder blades. You tried to anchor yourself but it was all so overwhelming you couldn't do anything other than moaning and screaming his name. His nose would occasionally rub your clit, bringing you closer and closer to your release. But it's when his thumb started rubbing your bundle of nerves that you found yourself clenching and arching your back in ecstasy. Jake stayed buried in your thighs until the last moment, lapping at your cunt and swallowing everything to last drop you would give him. He rubbed your thighs to help you come down of your high and looked up at you with a loving gaze. You eventually looked down at him and smiled when you saw him resting his cheek on your thigh. "You with me, baby?" He planted a kiss on the inside of your thigh before crawling his way back up. You slid your hands on his cheeks and saw the way his lips glistened with your release. It was awfully hot. You pulled him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue and moaned, feeling the tip of his cock against your thigh. "Jake...?" You whispered between kisses. "Yeah, baby?" His lips were back on your neck, sucking softly the skin there. "Condom, now." You breathed out and he grinned. "At your service, Ma'am." He pulled away from you and dug into his bag by the side of the mattress, taking out a condom. He ripped it open with his teeth and immediately rolled it over his already sensitive length.

You bit your bottom lip and pulled him down, kissing him and reaching down to line him up with your entrance. He looked at you one last time before slowly pushing in, making the both of you moan. You felt him stretching you open, but in the best way possible. You gently rolled your hips to take him deeper and you mewled when his pubic bone rubbed against your clit. "Please, move..." You whimpered and he slightly pulled back before slamming his hips into yours, hitting that special spot deep inside you. Your hands started roaming along his back, scratching his skin and trying to hold on his firm shoulders. But nothing seemed to do the trick. His hips were slamming into yours, his cock reaching so deep and his lips sucking at your skin so deliciously you couldn't think straight. It was all so good but never enough. Your whimpers drew his attention and he pulled back from your neck, peppering kisses all over your face. "It's okay, you're okay... You're with me... I'm here, it's okay..." He whispered and brought your hands up above your face, interlocking your fingers with his. You squeezed his hand and seemed to relax and abandon yourself into the moment. Jake simply grinned and kissed you deeply before he felt your legs wrapping around his waist and holding him as close as possible.

FOUR

You smiled at your reflection in the mirror, sinking your teeth in your bottom lip to stop yourself from crying and ruining the incredible makeup the nice lady spent an hour perfecting. Your beautiful white dress conforming your curves and the veil attached to your hair were gonna drive Jake crazy when he's gonna see you. You looked up at the clock on the wall and breathed out, knowing it was almost time for you to walk down the aisle. Knocks on the door behind you were heard and you invited in the person on the other side, already knowing who it was. The door opened and your mom stepped into the room, closing the door behind her as she brought up her hands to her mouth in awe. "Oh my God, you look splendid..." She teared up. "Please don't cry. I've been trying not to for thirty minutes now." You turned to her and opened your arms to hug her. Your parents divorced when you were two and your mom moved out of the state, preferring the East coast to Texas. You hadn't seen her as much as you would've liked growing up but seeing her on the most important day of your life meant a lot. She met Jake a few times when you two visited her and she knew he was perfect for you. After nine years together, you were more than ready to say 'I do'.

You pulled back from the hug and looked at her. "I'm so glad you're here." You sighed in relief. You knew your parents couldn't be in the same room, they didn't leave things on the best terms. "I couldn't miss this in the whole world." She stroked your cheek and kissed your forehead. "You're nervous?" She asked you, stepping back a bit. You shook your head and beamed at her. "Not at all. I'm so excited to marry my best friend." You trampled on the spot. Your mom laughed at your attitude, it was like watching a child on Christmas morning. There was no doubt you were excited for today. "I'll let you be. Your dad is waiting for you at the door. And well... Your man is waiting for you at the altar." She gave you one last hug and left the room, leaving you to your thoughts. You turned to the mirror and lowered the veil on your face before joining your dad outside so he could take you to the aisle. "You look amazing, sweetie." He complimented you before kissing your cheek. "Ready to go?" He asked, presenting his arm for you. You nodded with a grin and wrapped your arm around his, holding firmly the bouquet in your other hand. Just before the last turn to enter Jake's sight, you stopped your father and grabbed the dress just above your breast. Your dad looked at your surprise when you readjusted your dress and laughed softly when you winked at him. "Gotta make a great impression for the first look." You took a deep breath and wrapped your arm around your father's and the both of you took your first steps on the aisle.

Your eyes immediately found Jake's at the end of the aisle and you smiled. His lips slightly parted in awe and he grinned. He looked so beautiful in his dress blues, he looked perfect. If you wanted to tease him later, you'd only have to say he teared up when he first saw you in your white dress but you wouldn't. Because you too teared up at this magical moment. You reached the altar and your dad kissed a last time your cheek before giving your hand to Jake. Your soon-to-be-husband helped you walking up the few steps of the altar and you gave your bouquet to your maid of honor before taking both of Jake's hands in yours. "Hey..." He mouthed when the priest started his speech. "Hi..." You mouthed back, all giddy. "You look phenomenal." He then mouthed, looking you up and down. "You look great too." You smiled at him. It was a silent conversation but it was more than enough for the two of you. It was only the two of you, holding hands on the most amazing day of your lives.

FIVE

Few years have passed since you both said 'I do' and you couldn't be happier. Well yes, you could. But that's in progress. You were now 29 and him 31. He was one of the best pilots in the Navy, if not the best one. And your bookshop was quite successful. Jake was deployed few months ago for a secret mission you couldn't know anything about and when he came back, he was another man. For a few days, you couldn't recognize your own husband but you talked it out and now he was back to normal. Before he left, the only thing he said was that it was probably the most dangerous mission he would ever have to do and to give him an extra reason to come back to you, you told him you wanted to stop taking the pill. That night, you barely slept but then he realized how much more it meant. You wanted to start a family with him and he needed to be there for you through it all. So he made it his personal mission to come back to you. And that's what he did, he came back to you after a month of deployment and you told him you were pregnant. He couldn't have been happier than when you showed him the blood analyze.

You were now fourteen weeks pregnant and both you and Jake were waiting impatiently this very date, knowing you could discover the gender of the baby around that time. You were laying on the chair, your shirt pulled up to show your small baby bump Jake couldn't keep his hands off. You discovered a whole new side of the man you loved when you got pregnant. He was so protective of you, so gentle. Even when you had sex, it never had been this gentle, this tender. You absolutely loved it. The doctor moved the ultrasound thing around your bump, first checking if everything was alright before turning over to you. "You wanna know the sex?" She smiled at you. You looked up at Jake whose eyes never left the screen, trying to see by himself. You chuckled and nodded your head, seeing that your husband was nowhere able to answer her. She turned back to the screen and pointed to a little something. "It's a girl. Congratulations." Jake looked down at your with teary eyes and took your hand in his. "We're having a baby girl?" He asked you, scared that his ears betrayed him. You nodded and wiped his teary eyes. "We're having a baby girl, Jake." You confirmed before he brought your hand to his lips and kissed the back of it.

"I'll leave you two alone for a bit, I'll be back in ten." The doctor pressed a few buttons and three copies of the ultrasound came out of the printer in the corner. She gave them to you and left the room. "We're having a girl!" Jake exclaimed as soon as the door was closed, making you laugh. "I think you owe Coyote twenty dollars, baby." You chuckled. Your husband wanted a baby girl but didn't believe at all that he would get one, so his best friend made the bet that he would. "I've never been happier to lose money." He rested his forehead against yours and took back your hands in his, holding them close to his face so he could kiss them whenever he wanted.

SIX

You woke up sooner in the night with back pain and when you tried to go to the bathroom, you groaned in pain as you felt a contraction in your lower stomach. It wasn't unusual at almost nine months of pregnancy but this time it was more painful. But minutes later, you had to wake up Jake hurriedly, telling him your water broke. His eyes shot open and it was like he'd never been asleep. He grabbed the bag you two started to pack and added some last minute stuff before driving you to the hospital, holding your hand to reassure you and comfort you. When you were waiting in the waiting area, he texted Coyote, his parents and yours. Your eyes were closed and your head was resting on Jake's shoulder, the nurse at the reception asked you some questions and told you it was too early for you to go in the delivery room. So you waited, in pain. Jake's hand rested on your knee and his other arm was around your shoulders. Occasionally you would let out growls and moans of pain, people looking at you as if you were some sort of animal. Jake would glare at them and then kiss your hair, murmuring praises in your ear.

After almost two hours of waiting, you heard your name called and a nurse came to check on you, asking how long the contractions were apart. She smiled and told you you could join a room in the resting time. Jake stood up and helped you getting on your feet before he heard his name called. He turned his head and saw Coyote running into the waiting area. "Hey, sorry I didn't see your text." He apologized. "It's the middle of the night. I'm glad you didn't see my text." Jake tapped his shoulder and his best friend helped you walking while Jake went to pay for the room you would stay in before going to the delivery room. Coyote and you followed the nurse and he helped you laying down on the bed, making sure you were comfortable. Jake came back quickly and was fast to be by your side, his hand immediately taking yours. "I called Mav and Cyclone to tell them you wouldn't show up today, or tomorrow." Coyote explained, stepping aside to give you some room. Another moan of pain slipped from your lips and Jake's attention was back on you. "Thanks, man." He quickly glanced at his friend before squeezing your hand. "You're doing amazing, baby. You're amazing, keep doing this and we'll have our baby girl sooner than planned." He kissed your knuckles and a nurse stepped into the room. "Keep praising her like this and all of this will only be a bad dream." She smiled at Jake.

You stayed three more hours in this room, Jake never leaving your side and never letting go of your hand one second. Coyote was the one getting you water or food. You got used to the contractions, to the pain so now if anyone would walk by the door, they'd think you're asleep and your husband is just watching over you. But you weren't and your husband was begging any deity he could take your pain. The nurse had connected a machine to your vitals to make sure everything went according to plan. Jake kept murmuring praises and kissing your hand until he heard the worst sound he could ever hear at that moment. The machine your were connected to started beeping aggressively and a nurse came running into the room, checking something before running back out, calling for a doctor. Coyote came back with two coffees and a panicked expression on his face. "I just saw your nurse running in the hallway, what's happening?" He asked as Jake kept looking at you up and down, looking or anything looking wrong to him. But you seemed fine. Oh no, the baby. The nurse came back into the room with your doctor and she checked the exact same thing the nurse did and she grabbed the breathing aid before putting it on your face. "What's wrong? What's happening?" Jake started to panic, still holding your hand. "Her blood pressure is going down." The nurse and the doctor stayed active around you and set up an I.V. Jake is so glad he's able to stay by your side but he's also very scared anything bad happen to his girls.

An hour later, your blood pressure seemed to go back to normal and you're moved to the delivery room, only Jake is allowed to follow. Coyote would be waiting for you in the waiting area and keep everyone updated with Jake's phone. Your legs were now spread open, the doctor checking if your body was ready for the delivery but every time she would pull back, she'd give you a tight smile and tell you to wait a bit more. The contractions were more painful and Jake was standing right behind you, his hands on your shoulders but still holding one of your hands, never letting go. But when the doctor lowered herself between your legs for the umpteenth time, she frowned, called for the nurse with a whisper and the lady nodded her head in agreement. "What? What's wrong?" Jake asked, seeing something wasn't right. "Your daughter isn't in a head-down position, I won't be able to deliver her properly without risking harming her of your wife." The doctor explained. "So what are we doing?" You asked with a weak voice before groaning at the contractions. "I recommend a c-section." And it was like a bomb going off in the room. Just the idea of a c-section made you sick. Jake leaned down to kiss your forehead and murmured in your ear. "You got this, okay? You can do it, baby. Look on the bright side, it'll be faster and less painful. We'll have our baby girl faster." He gently stroked your sweat-wet hair. "Dad's right, you won't feel anything and your daughter will be with you sooner than with a traditional delivery. The only downside is that it'll take you a bit more to recover." The doctor promised and you nodded your head. "Okay, let's do this. Let's have our baby girl." You looked up at Jake and he kissed the tip of your nose, making you smile.

You were moved to the surgical block, Jake allowed to come with you since you'd be conscious. The doctor was accompanied by two nurses who would assist her during the surgery. They gave you anesthetics and you soon felt nothing but calm in your body. A cloth was stretched between your face and your lower stomach so neither you or Jake could see the bloody part. Jake still held your hand, you couldn't remember how long it's been since he let go of your hand but the simple touch of his skin was reassuring you. The surgery was going well, and the doctors kept you updated on everything they were doing. Jake murmured praises in your ear and you only looked at him lovingly, feeling nothing but pure love for the man above you. You were feeling a little bit weak but you put that on the fact that your lower half was cut open. "I love you, Jake." You smiled at him and he looked down at you. "I love you too, baby. You're doing great." He kissed your forehead and stroked your hair out of your face. "Dad? You might want to come and see this." The doctor called and Jake walked around you, never letting go of your hand. The woman was holding the tiny baby in her arms, the umbilical cord still connecting to two of you. "We have a baby girl..." He breathed out, squeezing your hand and glancing at you. "You gave me a baby girl, she's beautiful..." You smiled at him and squeezed his hand in turn before he looked back at your daughter and the doctor gave him scissors to cut the cord himself. He did it with one hand, still holding yours with the other and one nurse took your daughter to go and get her all cleaned up.

"Alright, Mama. How are you holding up?" The doctor called above the cloth as Jake moved to go back behind you. "I'm feeling tired." You chuckled weakly and the doctor smiled. "It's normal. With the contractions and the anesthetics, it's completely normal to feel tired and weak." Everything was going great. You and Jake had a daughter, she was fine and you would be fine in a moment too. But the frown on the doctor's face said otherwise. Jake looked curiously the doctor's movements becoming more rushed and he knew something was wrong. The machine next to them started beeping and he immediately looked down at you. "Hey, baby... Keep your eyes open, okay? We're almost done." He tried to keep you awake but could see how weak you were. "I'm tired, Jake..." You sighed. "I know, baby. I know... But you're doing so good... Doc! What's happening?" He looked up at the doctor who kept asking for gauzes to the nurse. She didn't answer him, focused on what she was doing and Jake started to panic. He looked down at you and stroked your cheek, trying to stimulate you to keep you awake. "Baby? Hey, Y/N... Stay with me, okay? You better stay with me!" His voice started quivering and his eyes teared up. He looked back up at the doctor and was about to ask her what was happening when he felt it. He looked down at you and more precisely at your hand slipping from his. He held it tighter but you were not squeezing anymore. And then the flatline.

BONUS

Jake didn't know how long the curtains had been closed or when was the last time he ate a real meal. Olivia would wake him up from his 2 hour night of sleep, crying and screaming and he would stay in bed for another hour, just listening to his daughters cries, hoping you would swoop in and feed her, change her diaper or just comfort her. But you never did, so he'd get up and go to the nursery, lean over the crib and take his crying daughter in his arms, purposely avoiding looking into her teary eyes because they looked just like yours. He'd walk to the kitchen and prepare her bottle, keeping her against his shoulder and swaying calmly to try and appease her cries. "Come on, Liv'. Be good for Daddy and shut your pretty little mouth. Please..." After the bottle was warm, he checked on his wrist if it wasn't too hot, just like Penny taught him and he went to sit on the couch, turning the crying baby in his arms and he led the pacifier right between her rosy lips. She stopped crying for a moment and Jake threw his head back against the couch, enjoying the silence. His eyes teared up and before he could wipe his cheek with his shoulder, Olivia started crying again.

He sighed and put aside the bottle before holding the baby closer to him and gently tapping her back. Just like Penny taught him. But he wished you were the one teaching him all of this. He wished you would both learn how to take care of a baby, your baby together, as a couple. But he was learning alone, and he was learning terribly. What kind of father would let his daughter cry for hours just because he didn't want to have a reminder his partner in life wasn't there with him? He tapped her back until she burped, making Jake slightly smile. "That's my good girl..." He walked up to the bathroom and glance at the bag with all the products you used. He couldn't throw away everything you owned, he just couldn't. He laid the baby down on the changing table and avoided looking into her eyes before he started opening her onesie, one that you picked at the store because there's a plane on it and you wanted your daughter to grow up with things related to her dad. Jake changed his daughter's diaper and dressed her up in a pretty little green dress. Just as he was about to grab her under her arms, he stopped in his tracks, completely frozen when he felt it. Her little hand, those tiny fingers wrapped around his big middle finger. The warmth of her hand was the same as yours, even though her skin was way softer and fragile than yours. His breath got caught in his throat and turned into a sob. His eyes teared up and he let out a whimper before falling to his knees. His finger still held so tight by his daughter. He just couldn't keep the tears to himself, so he let it all out, sobbing and weeping on the bathroom floor.

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