my baby is better than you, and you know it.
The person who asked me for this apparently doesn't exist anymore, but y'all can have it anyway. Hope it doesn't suck :)
Swearing, very vague descriptions of birth.
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You suppose you should’ve seen this coming. Banking on a child that was half him not making everything wildly inconvenient. You also supposed you should’ve seen it coming that the other half of your baby’s gene pool would piss you off so badly you’d send him to the other side of the country 3 weeks before your due date just to get him away from you.
Maxwell Jacob Friedman. Love of your life, baby daddy, giant gaping asshole.
Well, here you were, refusing to leave for the hospital, contractions 12 minutes apart and calling his phone over and over while you watched him on the TV.
You could see the rectangular shape in his pocket, you could see the panic deep within his eyes while he bantered with Adam Cole, and you could see the worry starting fill Adam the more he took in his friend.
You decided to switch tactics and you dialled a different number instead. Adam’s eye bug and his hand falls to the pocket in his jeans he keeps his own phone in.
His eyes cut to Max’s in panic and you can see that they’ve both put two and two together to equal baby. They both nod at each other resolutely and Max raises the mic to his mouth fishing his phone from his pocket with his other hand.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, you know me, you know I’m a scumbag who hates every place in this damn country, so believe me when I say there is no where better in America than LA Bay Bay!”
The crowd cheers and Max’s attempt at a cheap pop and he dials his phone. “But unfortunately, I’ve gotta leave the city of angels, there is no where the devil feels more at home.”
You see his name on your phone screen and you accept the call. “The spawn is making its decent.” You growl into the receiver.
“I’M HAVING A BAY BAY!” Max shouts to a ruckus crowd of cheers. “Screw you Sammy Guevara, my baby is better than yours and you know it.”
10 hours later you are cussing your way through another contraction, staring at the door and willing your dumb partner to rush through it. The nurses keep telling you to stop fighting your body but you refuse to listen even if you know it’s making you more exhausted trying and failing to keep the baby in rather than out.
When he finally burst through the door, you burst into tears and you relax (as much as you can while in active labour) for the first time since your waters broke.
“You are such an asshole, why are you such an asshole?” You cry, grabbing his hand tight. He listened panicked gaze takes in all of you while he mutters endless apologies. “I love you so much and if you tell anybody I’ll drown you.”
He meets your eyes and returns the pressure to your hand. “Were having a baby.”
“Mini brochacho how cool is that my dude?”
Your gaze falls to the door where Adam stands bouncing like a puppy, arms laden with gifts.
“YOU BROUGHT ADAM COLE ARE YOU FUC-“
“I made that. How fucking dope is that?” you sigh, finger gently brushing over your daughter brow.
“Hey! I helped.” Max whispers vehemently in response.
“Did you? I mean I don’t remember you collapsed against the toilet for five months, or watching you waddle places while you dripped sweat.”
“She’s not here without me too making a baby is 50/50 sweetheart.” He states grumpily, gently running his fingers over the tiny hairs above her eyes, tracing each spot after your own fingers.
You scoff, “The level of your help in the creation of this child is akin to my being the head chef in the kitchen and you being the guy who stirs the sauce so it doesn’t congeal. We are not the same, my love.”
“Besides,” You state confidently, watching her little nose crinkle (An exact replica of Max’s) “she’s not yours anyway?”
The nurse in the room dropped her clipboard with a clatter as Max sighs dramatically, “This outta be good. What do you mean she’s not mine?”
“Look, no hooves. Definitely no child of the devil.”
“Are you comparing our daughter to Rosemary’s baby?”
“No, I’m saying how not like Rosemary’s baby she is, keep up, good looking.”
“And here I was worried motherhood was going to change you.”
