Part One
Hellfire did in fact, have cookies to sell.
More than cookies, which Dustin practically preened over when Eddie dragged himself back to their table.
The ornaments they had made were still there, but now the centerpiece was an array of baked goods. Spread out in a spiral, it started from the large cake in the center and spun out into miniature cookies held in tiny decorated bags, all while Harrington stood over them like a proud parent.
It smelled mockingly delicious.
Eddie glared at the display, resisting the urge to upend the whole thing onto the floor.
Cookies and cakes and (--was that frickin bread pudding?) whatever other treats Harrington had shown up with might look good, but Eddie didn’t trust it.
Didn’t trust Harrington, even if the bastard had never really done anything himself--but then, he never had to, had he?
That was the point of all that money, after all. So he could pay other people to do his dirty work while he kept his hands squeaky clean.
“Inch a bit to the left--there, stop!” Harrington was saying, like the bossy asshole he was.
Like he thought he could just come in and expect everyone to follow his lead.
“Perfect! Now don’t touch it.”
God, Eddie had to nip this in the butt, now. Before King Horrorton harassed his sheep all day, and cemented the club's undeserved bad name in the minds of Hawkins.
“Dustin what did I just say--”
Eddie stepped up to the front of their table, preparing himself for war. Looked over to his friends knowing they'd likely need a nod of reassurance. A show from him that said he had this handled.
There was no cowering.
No pleading, helpless, 'What do we do Eddie!?' gazes aimed his direction.
Hellfire wasn’t even looking at him, and not because they were all avoiding Harrington's line of sight.
No, the fucking traiters were flanking the King. Like they were buddies with the bastard instead of mortal enemies.
“Hey, Ed’s, Harrington brought pies. Cakes too!” Gareth said around a mouthful of said cookie when he noticed Eddie standing before him.
It came out a garbled mess, but years of experience had Eddie understanding him anyway.
Jeff was busy playing what sounded like twenty fucking questions regarding the setup, and even Grant appeared comfortable, happily letting Harrington order him around as they finished setting up.
Like this was some kind of cutesy Disney movie where they all held hands and sang songs instead of a hostile takeover situation.
Eddie’s eye twitched.
Sensing a disturbance in the force, Jeff looked up and immediately interrupted himself to point to a series of red and green cookies placed dead center, delighted.
“Check it out man, Steve made some shaped like dice!”
(And he did say ‘Steve.’
Not Harrington, or This Asshole, or The Invading Evil Forces of Darkness.
Just Steve, like Steve was someone Jeff hung out with everyday.
Jeff’s cleric was a dead elf walking.)
Eddie took note of what was in fact, dice cookies.
He hated how good they looked.
“There’s four flavors.” Steve told him, cocky little grin on his face as he observed his work. “Chocolate chip, peanut butter, snickerdoodle--and the dice ones are sugar cookies.”
He licked his lips before finally turning to look at Eddie, hair curling over his face and making him wave a hand to brush them out of his eyes.
Eddie hated how good he looked too.
‘Hate, hate, hate, absolutely loathe-’
“Great, sure, wonderful.” Eddie managed, though given the look Grant and Jeff both shot him it might have come out as more of a growl.
Dustin rolled his eyes, and Eddie couldn’t help but notice that Hellfire’s other two youngest hadn’t dared to show their faces yet.
Likely they knew Eddie was having an absolute meltdown over Steve’s presence and were waiting for his reaction to blow over.
(Their characters were dead too.)
“I have two full cakes--one chocolate, on vanilla--and a few individual slices we can sell.” Steve was continuing, as if Eddie wasn’t glaring a hole in his forehead. “Those did really well last year when I made them for the basketball team.”
Insults fought for space on Eddie’s tongue, but he managed to roll a 20 to pick the best one, opening his mouth to let it fly.
"Harr-" is as far as he got before he was rudely interrupted.
“Steve? Is that you?” A woman Eddie didn’t recognize but was clearly someone's mom came up cautiously to the table, side eyeing the Hellfire banner like a nervous horse. “That can’t be your famous tiramisu, is it?”
Steve beamed at her. “Well hi Miss Carpenter. It is!”
Eddie was bumped aside by a massive purse, the woman not even glancing in his direction as she stepped up to the table.
With a sneer, he finally slumped to the back of their little spot as Miss Carpenter looked over all Steve’s (not Hellfire’s and absolutely not Eddie’s) offerings.
Didn’t care to wipe it off right then, even if he knew he needed to if he wanted to make sales.
Jeff sent him a look.
The same one he usually aimed Eddie’s way when he thought Eddie’s antics were going to cause problems.
He ignored it, on grounds that traitors don’t get to be judgy.
“Oh,” Miss Caprtender tittered, the draw of Harrington’s baked goods clearly overcoming whatever fear she had about Hellfire. “Well I just can’t pass that up. The swim team meets aren’t the same without you!”
Eddie pretended to gag.
Waited for her to comment on Hellfire--their clothes, their music, hell even the length of Eddie’s hair--and found he was almost disappointed when there wasn't even a single question about Hawkins precious golden child was slumming it with the weirdos.
Instead, Miss Carpenter's hand went fishing in her purse for her wallet as she loudly called out over her shoulder, to presumably another annoying woman;
“Terry, Steve’s here! He’s been baking!”
For two terrifying seconds, there was a notable dip in the conversations around them.
Grant’s eyes went wide as several women responded to the announcement like dogs hearing food hit the floor, and within seconds their table was absolutely swarmed by the mothers of Hawkins.
Even Eddie’s eyes went wide at the sheer number of them.
“Hold, men, hold.” Dustin cautioned as Jeff and Grant both took a step back. “Come on, we need to get our gold!”
“They’re scary though.” Gareth whispered in horror as four women tried to talk at once, jostling each other so hard they shook the table menacingly.
“Ladies, ladies there’s enough here for everyone!” Steve laughed, showing off his disgustingly cute dimples as he did, getting several of the mom’s to blush at their own behavior in the process.
The sheer amount of attention of course, drew in even more people, and Dustin quickly took up directing, planting Jeff and Grant at either end of their table while he and Steve fended off the hoard from the front.
(Given the way he and Steve were equally ordering Hellfire around, Eddie finally knew where the little shit had picked that attitude up from. He was going to have to cure Dustin of it, ASAP. )
“Here you go Miss Harper.” Steve said sweetly, handing over yet another stack of baked goods.
Without turning his head, and in the tone of voice one used to warn a misbehaving dog, he added; “Gareth don’t think I can’t fucking see you, get back up here.”
Caught trying to sink under the table with another cookie in his mouth, Gareth found himself hauled back to his feet by his collar, putting a snarl on Eddie’s face immediately.
“Hey--” He started, defensive and more than ready to intercede, except Gareth wasn’t flinching or cursing or doing that thing he did with his mouth when he was desperately trying to hold in his temper.
Instead he was giving a sheepish grin and a half-assed apology while he hung in Harrington’s grasp, before doing what the guy told him to do.
(It did not help that Steve patted him on the shoulder when he released him, before handing Gareth a third fucking cookie.)
Eddie’s eye twitched a second time.
(He told it to knock it off.
It didn’t listen.)
No one acknowledged Eddie or his outburst, which meant he was just skulking behind the boys while they all worked.
Arms crossed, rings tapping a rhythm on his forearm, far too keyed up to do anything other than glare at the back of Harrington's skull.
The King seemed perfectly happy to ignore him.
Likewise, Gareth and Grant knew better than to bother him when he was in a snit.
Henderson made the occasional snappy little comment, but the brat had mostly left him alone now that they were well into the swing of selling, chortling over the increasing stack of cash Steve kept trying to get him to put into a “safe place.”
Eddie was seconds away from walking up and snatching the cash himself when Jeff decided it was on him to attempt the impossible.
Get him to help Harrington.
“More hands would be nice, Eddie!” Jeff called, looking more than a little harassed as the mom he was helping changed her order a second time, snaking out the last single slice of chocolate cake from another mom who was eyeing it. “Steve and I could really use your assistance over here!”
Eddie’s glare, which had been doing its level best to try and vaporize the King’s brain, switched targets instantly.
“I’m supervising.”
Jeff made a face like he was about to argue, but the King beat him to it.
“It must be tough,” Harrington said, tilting his head to look back towards Eddie, “to supervise people who are working so much harder than you.”
Which promptly set the mood for the next full hour.
xXx
Harrington was matching him tit for tat.
Every shitty, sneered word out of Eddie’s mouth was met with an equally mean toned barb, though given the repeated looks everyone kept shooting him, Eddie was very much considered the aggressor here.
A fact he cannot believe is coming from his own friends.
What happened to comradery? To Eddie stepping in and protecting them, from the likes of people just like Harrington?
But no, Eddie makes one fucking comment about how the cookies are probably half hair-spray and suddenly he’s the bad guy.
(Nevermind that Steve had fired right back, telling Eddie that any hair-spray taste was probably from all the drugs he did.)
Was somewhat, halfway--okay maybe amazing, Eddie might have snuck a cookie himself--food really all it took to get them all to turn on him like this?
Erase the years of Eddie being their shield in high school?
Act like Harrington wasn’t just as bitchy and awful as he had been in high school (even if he was, admittedly, being nicer about it all right now? Almost--aloof, like he couldn’t figure out why Eddie hated him so much, but likewise wasn’t going to take even one eye roll sitting down--and no, no, Eddie wasn't derailing this by thinking about his stupid eyes, he wasn't!)
Frankly he would have flipped them all the bird and stormed off, if it weren’t for the increasingly weird little comments people were making.
‘Oh Steve, it's a shock to see you here.’
‘Are you doing someone a favor?’
‘You know Pastor Jim said something about this game…’
The last one had put Eddie’s teeth on edge, even if Dustin had brushed it off. It hadn’t been aimed at Steve directly but the women saying it had absolutely been looking at the King, as if waiting for his reaction.
Not that Harrington would take the bait this soon, though.
There were too many people buying fricken…cupcakes and shit, while the King enjoyed the attention of the masses.
Eventually this tiny crowd would die down though, and that’s when Harrington would change his tune. Start answering some of the questions he seemed to be dodging as more and more people got braver about coming up to the table.
This whole thing was a ticking time bomb, and Eddie would be ready when it inevitably blew.
To defend his table, his club, his friends.
Even Henderson, who absolutely didn’t deserve it just then.
“Dude perk up would you? You look like you’re going to stab somebody.” Jeff hissed at him ten minutes later, when there was finally a break in the flood.
Eddie ignored him in place of taking stock of the table. (And maybe, sneaking another cookie.)
“Hope you brought more than this, Harrington.” He said, knowing he sounded like a stuck up ass and not feeling an iota of guilt about it. “Unless you plan to run home and bake more like a good little housewife.”
“Dude.” Grant said, casting him a look like King Dick might leave and take the cookies with him.
“Oh I brought more.” Harrington dismissed, with a small flick of his fingers. “And I’ll have you know you’d never find a housewife more perfect than I am, Munson.”
Then he turned to nail Eddie with the most shit eating grin he’d ever seen the King wear.
Facing flaming a brilliant red, Eddie sputtered for a second before finally getting ahold of himself and spitting;
“How delightful. I--”
“Okay.” Jeff cut in, forever the mediator. “Gary, Dustin can you help Steve pull the extra stuff out from under the tables? While I go talk to Eddie?”
“Can I try the tiramisu?” Gareth asked, inching hopefully towards the treat while keeping an eye on Harrington’s hands, lest he get smacked again.
“Only if you’re a good boy.” Harrington told him sarcastically and goddammit why did that make Eddie blush harder!?
Jeff sighed, before grabbing his arm and hauling Eddie back, away from the table, right as a younger man in some stupid sport’s jacket asked questions about one of the dice cookies.
“Look I get it man, I do,” Jeff started, voice talking on the sort of wheelding, pleading tone it did when he really wanted something and knew Eddie was opposed. “but Steve’s actually been super cool. We might actually make money off this, and he’s giving us all of it. Can you just… not antagonize him for five minutes?”
Eddie stared at his best friend in abject horror.
“You couldn’t have talked to him for more than twenty minutes total. Half of which he spent bitching that you were bagging a cake wrong! At what point was Harrington "being cool!?"
The asterisks were made by his fingers, which Eddie mockingly framed his face with.
He got a flat, unimpressed stare in return.
“It was a very informative twenty minutes and he was right about the cake. Now are you going to help or are you going to glower in the corner?”
Eddie gaped.
“I cannot believe you right now--”
Jeff didn’t even wait to hear him out.
“You’ve chosen to glower. I can’t help you man, but we’d all have a much better day if you weren’t at Harrington’s throat every five seconds.” Jeff turned smoothly on his heel.
Over his shoulder he added; “Seriously, don’t come back until you’ve worked your way out of your snit.”
Shocked, Eddie watched Jeff float back to the front, inserting himself easily between Grant and Steve and immediately striking up a conversation.
With the enemy.
“I didn’t know you baked.” Jeff told Steve loudly (and very obviously, for Eddie to see.)
Steve gave a bashful little smile, then shrugged. “It’s a hobby. Got into it back when the basketball team needed to fundraise a few years ago and Tommy’s mom got it in her head we should sell home baked goods. Turns out its kinda fun.”
“Please never get out of it.” Gareth insisted, a piece of God knows what crammed in his mouth.
“Dude, how many of those have you gotten into!? Stop eating the merchandise!” Dustin commanded, smacking at Gareth’s shoulder.
“I physically cannot stop man.” Gareth dodged, reaching out for another cookie. “I’m not sorry.”
Steve just laughed. All charming and buddy-buddy, like it was natural for him to be here.
Wearing a Hellfire shirt. Making jokes and teasing the guys.
In Eddie’s fucking place.
He seethed, fingers twitching, and envisioned the very unsexy murder of one Steve Harrington.
Cartoon X’s for eyes and all.
xXx
Trouble didn't hit the table.
It in fact, seemed to stay away as if on purpose, to shove in Eddie's face that he was the one in the wrong here.
Even the questions toned done, as the second wave of moms showed up, this round prompted by some former teammate of Steve’s Eddie didn’t recognize yelling about his apple pie.
Instead, Eddie’s wayward sheep finally made their appearance Mike and Lucas trying to sneak in as if Eddie wouldn’t notice during the new rush.
(Eddie himself almost caused trouble when he realized Lucas was wearing a Not-A-Hellfire shirt, which solved the mystery of where Harrington had gotten his.
He was inching his way towards them, a snarky word on his tongue when he saw Sinclair said something about how he was “already on Eddie’s shitlist for joining the basketball team,” in relation to what must have been a question about his Hellfire shirt, that caused Eddie to freeze.
With the air of a sad, wet kitten, Lucas followed it with; “I’m sure it won’t be long before he kicks me out of Hellfire anyway.”
Like he'd been punched in the gut, all the air left Eddie’s lungs.
Because before Lucas had said that, Eddie had been thinking it.
Not really--he’d never kick anyone out of Hellfire.
It was more that he'd thought about it in the way one does when you know you're right, and are having to resort to underhanded tactics to force the other party to come to their senses.
Like a sort of shitty, angry “I should kick you out, let you see what happens when you don’t have us!” kind of innervation.
The same kind he had heard the jocks sling before, when they were mad at each other and--God he wasn’t--he couldn’t be, like them...could he?
Like fucking Harrington, who oh fuck, was patting Lucas sympathetically on the shoulder and giving him some kind of whispered advice.
Sonovabitch.
“I’m going for a smoke.” Eddie bit out, vision tunneling.
He knew he needed to go sit down somewhere, before he fucking lost it in front of Hawkin, Harrington and everyone.
And wouldn’t that just be a treat for King Steve?
To watch Eddie realize he had turned into the very thing he hated, preached against, even?
That Steve was, maybe, possibly, doing a better job of following Eddie’s own Munson Doctrine than he was?
Eddie barely saw the room anymore--waived off whatever Grant was trying to say to him as flew past, shaking hands fishing for a desperately needed cigarette.
Maybe a hope and a prayer too, because apparently he needed it.
How long had he been like this?
Been a douchebag asshole?
Was it the whole year? More than? Or was it just now, with stupid Steve involved? Could he trace this back to that stupidly cute--no, no, annoying, asshole?
Was this some fucked up way of coping with his growing crush!?
Lost in thought and growing self hatred he nearly careened right into Robin Buckley.
Her slightly bent paper reindeer ears marking her as a member of the band kids who had been absolutely butchering ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ a few minutes earlier.
Vaguely heard her yell Steve’s name as he ran off (because that’s what he was doing. What he always did.
Run--from himself and his own fucking feelings, like a total cliche.)
--but didn’t take in that she was doing more than saying hi to, oh fuck him sideways--her friend.
Because she and Steve were friends.
Good ones, if the freshmen were to be believed.
Rather than go outside and catastrophize in the cold, Eddie threw himself threw the doors at the end of the hall, then up the stairwell, to the second floor.
Tucked himself right into a corner, right there by the stairs.
Sank down into a crouch, hands scrubbing up his face before tangling in his hair, head dropping between his knees, cigarette shoved into his mouth.
Somehow, Eddie decided, this was Steve’s fault.
He'd have come up with a reason for that, he was sure. A good one even, except he forgot one of the key features of his life.
He was a Munson, and as a general rule of life, nice neat things did not happen to Munson's--but they did get kicked while they were down.
“Okay, what happened?” Steve fucking Harrington asked, voice loudly echoing up the stairwell from down below, and Eddie threw his head back, nearly slamming it against the wall.
(Maybe he’d pissed off a witch. His life would make a lot more sense if someone had cursed it.)
“She gave me her number!”
That was Buckley, the shrill timber identifiable even as she whispered the words.
Eddie can’t really see them without giving himself away--could probably make his escape if he got down and army-crawled past the railing he’s huddled by, but figured this is their fault anyway.
Not his problem if he overhears a private conversation if they’re both too stupid to check to see if someone was seated literally right up above them.
“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?" Steve was saying. "That’s what we wanted!”
“Is it!? What if she’s just, you know, giving it to me?”
“...I’m not following.”
“Like in a friend way. Not a--”
“Romantic way?”
Harrington has the smarts to say the words quietly. So quietly in fact, that had Eddie not been in the exact right position he wouldn’t have heard--but he almost swallowed his unlit (he should have lit it, maybe they'd have smelled the smoke and fucked off) cigarette anyway.
“Sssshh!” Robin hissed, and Eddie can’t see either of them but he imagined her jamming her hand over Harrington’s big fat mouth.
“Not so loud, Steve!”
“Sorry, God.” Sure enough, Harrington’s voice is muffled. “How did she give it to you? Did she say anything?”
“She asked if I want to hang out after band, but because I have that stupid family thing, I told her I couldn’t today, but I can literally any other day, and she said she’d call me, and I said--”
“Robs, breathe.”
“Don’t interrupt me, Dingus!” Robin said, voice shrill again, before she clearly listened to Harrington and took a breath.
It was big, and deep, and she blasted it back out loud enough for the fucking birds on the roof to hear.
In a calmer voice, Robin continued; “I said we never traded phone numbers so I didn’t have hers. She grabbed my arm and wrote her number on it. Look, she added a heart!”
“Okay, here you go! A hearts a good sign!"
And Harrington sounded--sounds happy for her, practically ecstatic, which doesn’t make much sense given Robin is talking about a ‘her’ and-
And-and-and--
Eddie’s always been quick to connect the dots.
It’s something he inherited from his old man. A Munson trait he’s tried to make his own through being an excellent DM (and not by robbing people blind or boosting cars.)
Here, the dots clearly screamed that Robin Buckley was trying to ask a woman out.
You know, in a gay way.
Which Harrington not only knew, but was supportive of.
Steve Harrington, who famously called Jonathan Byers' a queer before smashing the guy's beloved camera into the ground.
Eddie’s head exploded.
Or was in the process of exploding--he’s not entirely sure given the tunnel vision was back and his soul felt like it had exited his body entirely.
Just knew that his world was being remade for a second time in five minutes, and that he was dealing with it pretty damn poorly.
(Maybe God would be nice for once, and just give him the aneurism he clearly deserved.)
Which was of course, when trouble finally did decide to show face, in the form of Dustin Henderson barging through the doors and into Steve and Robin's little meeting.
Eddie knew, because Eddie could hear him.
“Steve! Steve we have a problem!”
“I’m busy Dustin--”
“Be busy later, we have an emergency on our hands!”
“And what, pray tell, do you think is an emergency?”
Eddie, who had instantly latched onto the conversation by the sheer need to have something distract him from his own thoughts, wondered the very same.
“Jason Carver showed up at the table, with a priest. They’re trying to do some whole kind of crazy sermon--is that a good enough emergency for you!?”
“Oh shit. ” Steve spat, at the same time Eddie yelled it from up high.
He sprang up, all thoughts of Robin and Steve knowing he’d eavesdropped vanishing entirely from his head as he lunged for the stairs.
Flew down them, because the thing he'd been waiting all fucking day for had finally happened.
He nearly crashed into Robin once again as he blew through the barely closed doors, Steve and Dustin already far ahead of him.
“Eddie?” Robin asked, voice noticeably nervous. "Were you--"
"Not now Starbuck, but we can talk later." Eddie told her, flying right past.
After he saved Hellfire.
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*writing down taglist* Dodadoo, that's a lot.
Hissy Kitty
Part 1
Prologue
Alastor X Reader
Warning!⚠
⚠ cussing, bold italics = sound affects, italics = thoughts, catnip, cat demon reader doing cat things, hehe ⚠
Husk stared with a scowl behind the bar at the red deer demon standing a little too close to you.
Its been a week and that piece of shit would not stop touching you. Placing a hand on your shoulder, grabbing your hand, and even patting you on the head. The last part he's seen the asshole do more often after noticing you purr at the action.
"You've done a wonderful job! I know Niffty appreciates the extra help.", the Radio Demon grinned.
"Are we going to do anything about the ripped up wallpaper?", you asked, looking at one of the lobby walls with peeling wallpaper.
"Don't worry about those. I'll take care of them soon.", the red demon waved it off and pat your head.
Purrrrprrrrrr
"Hands off you slimy fuck!", he threw a bottle at the deer.
Alastor easily dodged and made a tsk noise of disappointment.
"Honestly Husker, you must stop throwing bottles."
You just crossed your arms and sighed. "I'll take my break now."
Husk brought out a cup and a bottle onto the counter, opening it up and waiting for you to notice what drink it was. Not a second later you gravitated towards the bar with dilated pupils.
"Is that..", you mumbled, staring straight at the bottle.
"That's right."
The cat demon flipped off the deer, who was already walking up to the both of you.
"And what is this beverage?", he asked, tapping his fingers on the bar counter.
"Its my favorite.", you whispered, still staring at the bottle. "Husk, hurry up and pour the damn drink."
Your brother chuckled and poured the liquid into the cup, watching in amusement as you snatched it once he lifted the bottle back up.
"Enjoy you gremlin.", he said while putting away the bottle.
The cup was empty a second later.
Alastor was curious.
What is that? Why did the drink have their full attention like that? What a funny reaction.
"Can I have another?", you asked.
"No.", Husk said without a beat, cleaning the cup you used.
"Awwwwwwww!", you whined and rested your head on the counter. "Pleeeeeeeeaaase?"
"No."
Alastor felt his eye twitch at your pouting face.
"I don't see a problem with having another drink.", the deer commented.
You perked up immediately and looked over to the red dressed demon, ears pointing towards him and Husk's ears going back.
"I'm saying no for a reason.", Husk warned.
The Radio Demon rolled his eyes and had his shadow retrieve the bottle.
"I'll take care of whatever problems they cause.", he laughed and swiped the cup from the cat, pouring another drink. "Sound fair?"
"I'm gonna need that in writing."
In writing? He thought placing the filled cup on the counter. Why would that be necessary?
"Surely nothing bad could happen.", he laughed the bartender's concern off and looked towards the cup, only to find it empty.
Alastor looked towards where you were standing and also found that spot empty.
"Better start running deer boy.", Husk said taking the cup. "They have a knack for causing all kind of hell."
Before the Radio Demon could ask what the cat meant, there was a shout from the kitchen.
"WHO ATE ALL OF MA POTATO SALAD!?"
.
Alastor quickly wrote up a small deal, promising to take care of any problem you might cause while under the influence of the strange beverage.
There's nothing too serious. He thought as he went walking around the hotel to find you. Just minor little things like eating Angel's potato salad and scratching up some couches.
He walked into a common room.
Nothing too bad.
CRASH
Both of you made eye contact after you pushed a cup off of the table you were perched on.
"Dear, I'd advise you not to make anymore mess. I'll have to clean it up later."
Ignoring him, you slowly pushed another glass.
"No.", he said in a warning tone.
You stopped and stared at him for a moment before continuing.
"Oh for the love of-", he sighed as the other glass broke. "Fine. Let's do something about your current state.", he walked over to you.
It didn't even take a second for you to shift into a full on cat and dart out of the room.
Now I see what Husker meant.
"This is going to take a while."
Husk watched with a smug grin and took a sip from his bottle.
"No! Get down from there!", the Radio Demon ran over to the middle of the lobby.
You were on the chandelier.
"Oh yeah, they like tall places.", Husk pointed out.
"What in the devil was in that drink?", Alastor said, trying to use his tendrils to get you down.
All you did was swat and paw at the dark things. Moving out of the way and scratching.
"It's catnip tea."
There was a record scratch.
Alastor felt his eye twitch at how obvious it was.
"Figures."
The cat demon felt a little better that he got you to be a problem for the deer. Maybe after this the smiling fuck would leave you alone. Then he'd finally get some peace.
"Husk? What the fuck is going on?", Vaggie walked over, gesturing to what was happening in the lobby.
"Nothing much, just my sibling giving the deer a hard time.", he responded.
There was a crash.
The chandelier having fallen and you running off again.
"Damn!", the red demon snapped his fingers, bringing up some creatures to clean up the mess before going after you.
"Can I watch?"
"Be my guest."
The two watched as the deer demon chased you around the hotel. Trying and failing at getting a good hold on you. After a few hours, Husk and Vaggie left, having been satisfied with all the random shit you did to keep the smiling demon occupied.
Alastor, having run around the hotel all day was tired and had his shadows chase you instead.
Walking over to the couch with the least amount of scratches, he sat down with a tired sigh and leaned back into the cushions.
"Never again.", he told himself.
There were growls and hissing coming from the other side of the lobby, no doubt you scratching the shadows that tried to grab you.
"Do be gentle, there can't be any fur out of place.", Alastor told the shadows as he rubbed the side of his head.
I'll have to go over our original deal later. He thought about the first contract he had Husker sign.
It got quiet for a moment and he saw that you had torn apart his shadows.
"How did you do that?", he asked as you trotted over and jumped up on the couch.
Even now you were still a little cat, fully embracing your cat side.
"You are a menace, you know that?", he said to you, watching as you 'made biscuits' on one of the pillows.
I didn't know you could cause such chaos. Though you did end up in Hell so that should have said something. He thought and leaned his head back, closing his eyes from being tired and up all day.
Then he felt a weight on his lap.
Snapping his eyes open and looking down, he found you resting like a loaf of bread.
"All I had to do was sit down..", he said annoyed before just giving up. "Alright, alright. You have the honor of besting the Radio Demon."
You were comfortable, eyes closed and adjusting just a bit before staying put.
Such a calm thing when they aren't running about. He thought and started to pet your head, which had you purring immediately.
"You know, I never liked dogs. And with you I can see myself being a cat person."
His hand was yanked back by the wrist.
"You better get your fucking hands off of them!", Husk yelled. "They aren't your fucking pet. This is your last warning."
You had run off and hid from the barking cat.
"They had just settled down.", Alastor said and turned to look at your brother, pissed. "₩h¥ wθμ|d y¤U rμ¡n +h@t?"
"Oh calm your ass down.", Husk took out a bell and dropped it, letting it roll on the floor.
You pounced on it and started messing with the ringing ball.
"You think I don't know how they act? I spent years taking care of them before officially becoming an overlord."
"This would have been useful information earlier.", the deer snatched his hand back.
The cat demon rolled his eyes and went to pick you up along with the ball before turning back to look at his boss.
"I just wanted to see you annoyed.", Husk smiled, walking over to the stairs to take you to your room.
"And stop touching them. Read our fucking contract you dumbass. You're not supposed to lay a hand on anyone I genuinely care about."
Alastor stayed for a moment longer before shadow traveling to his hotel room, going over to his desk and rummaging through it for the contract.
"Where is the blasted old thing.", he mumbled, going through his papers before remembering he could snap it into his hands. "Looks like I really am tired."
He did just that and looked over the contract, skimming through it until he reached the part about protection.
"No touching, holding, dancing or any unnecessary physical contact with any demon I, The Gambling Demon, deem important enough to care about. This includes any blood relatives still alive in Hell."
The Radio Demon laughed.
What a clever cat.
"Let's see where I can find a loophole.", he grabbed a pen to take notes.
Let the game begin.
If you asked to be added but don't find your name in the taglist, please let me know through messages. I'll try to tag you again, and if it still doesn't work then I'll send you updates through messages.
~Seline, the person.
Part 2
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ML for Alastor🎙 | HK ChL😾
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Oh Baby | part three
third and final part.
word count: 8.6k
Warnings: tame(er) smut. Pregnancy sex. childbirth.
progress is made, all thanks to your hormone gremlins.
It's safe to say everyone's favorite duo was back like they never left, just with a lingering air of sexual tension and babies in the oven.
You were never good at holding water, which is why you told your family and friends about it the very same night. Your friends were the most excited you'd ever seen them, and that was before you even mentioned who the father was.
When Miles questioned who the father was with a meek voice interrupting said celebrations, Lewis stepped forward with a cocky smirk and a pep in his step that made you want to kick the back of his legs in.
Instead, you gently motioned to Lewis with your arm thrown out.
You'll never forget your friend's reactions like a scene from a telenovela; they all gasped dramatically and clutched their pearls. "Oh, I'm going to beat everybody's ass; why didn't we know y'all were together?"
"We are NOT together." You interrupt.
"So fucking?" Miles pipes up, and you feel like you are on stage with a literal spotlight directed at you, with the way they are all intently observing you, including Lewis.
"Not fucking either." You deny, slapping Lewis' arm as to say, help me out here. He shakes his head at you, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"It was a one-time thing that we both agreed would never happen again. This is the consequence of our actions that night." You put your hands on your pudgier stomach. "Yay!" you cheer quietly.
Whit stands first, and with tears in her eyes, she throws her arm over your shoulder, pulling you into a hug. Mori stands after already having been emotional since the initial announcement. She saunters over with a coo of "Aww, mama bear," joining in on the embrace.
Lewis' boys stand up, Miles put his hand out to Lewis for a dap and ends up pulling him into a hug. "One step closer." He chuckles gripping Lewis' shoulder as he steps back.
Daniel grins, approaching Lewis with his arms open and ready, "I'm proud of you, brother." He congratulates them through his own wide grin.
You turn to Lewis with your bottom lip poked out as your friends kneel around your tiny belly. It doesn't even really look like there's a child in there, but that doesn't halt your friends from gently caressing it.
You wipe away an unsuspecting tear as Miles coos gently to your stomach, "Hope you don't get your dad's forehead, lil man."
"She's a girl!" Whit scowls, mushing his face away from your belly.
"We don't know what it is, actually." Daniel returns Whit's actions, mushing her to the right as he emerges front and center.
Lewis, who had stood off to the side watching your friend's love on you and your unborn baby, steps to your side, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to him. He leaves a lingering kiss on your hairline before knocking Daniel over with his foot.
"Don't call my child an it."
-
Your parents, on the other hand, were a completely different story.
Your full government name is shouted by your mother as she holds onto your dad for support. They both look like they've been shot, and the greater betrayal was that you were the one who pulled the trigger. "Oh, Lord in heaven, please!"
"Ma." You whine, "Don't look like that, guys."
Lewis parents are sat beside your own, his mom is eyeing you up and down a interested look dawning her face. When your dad wipes the suprise from his face he looks like he is beginning the five stages of grief.
"My baby- I can't."
Lewis' mother slaps her ex-husband's thigh, motioning to the anxious look adorning their son's face.
"Lewis," His mom all but shouts, "Are you the father?" It comes out in a squeal, one that has your parents pausing their dramatics and leaning forward in sync.
Lewis looks like a thief caught red-handed. And just as you looked to him for support earlier, he does the same to you. You shrug at him, throwing your hands into your pockets.
How does it feel to be thrown to the sharks?
He stutters for a while, so he avoids eye contact with your dad. When his father speaks up, his voice is demanding. "Be a man, Lewis, answer."
You almost feel bad watching as your guys' parents sit literally on the edge of their seats. Lewis has never felt more nervous in his life. Deciding to put an end to his misery, you close the distance between you two and intertwine your hands.
"The baby is mine," Lewis announces, and your family jumps up like they've won the lotto.
Unlike your friends, they don't rush to you guys; they rush to each other. Your mom and Lewis' mom bounce up and down as they hug, and like the annoying men your fathers are, they point at each other with wide grins on their faces before they are in each other's embrace as well.
You and Lewis face each other in perplexity.
He clears his throat, and you call out, "Umm, hello?"
"Aww, my baby," your mom cries, rushing to you with her arms held high. You still stare back at Lewis, and your face is set in bafflement as she presses her lips to your cheeks and then cups your belly. Your dad comes barreling through, quite literally pushing your mom out of the way, and he is enveloping you in a bone-crushing hug.
Your mom shouts your dad's name, whacking the back of his head, "The girl is pregnant. Be gentle."
He eases back and holds your face in his hands, eyes staring into you with such adoration that it makes you emotional all over again. "My baby is having a baby."
Choked up you see Lewis' parents loving on him in the same manner, you catch Anthony's eyes and he is unraveling himself from his son and pulling you into him. "I couldn't be any more happier, my girl." He talks quietly into your ear as he hugs you.
As you talk to Lewis' mom, you see your dad and mom embracing Lewis, and you chuckle as he happily accepts their graces.
As time went on they just barely settled down.
"Oh please," you taunt. "You literally looked like you guys were ready to kill me."
You watch on in puzzlement as they begin writing Facebook posts.
"Yes, my darling." Your mother hums.
"Before we found out Lewis was the father." His mom adds with a cheeky smile.
"So?" your dad motions between the two of you, relaxing comfortably on the loveseat. "How long has this been a thing?"
At your words, the grin is wiped from his face, "It's not."
"Have you defiled my daughter Lewis Carl Dav-"
"Dad!" you shout, groaning again as he turns to Anthony with an incredulity like no other.
"So, maybe let's not do Facebook?" You suggest.
Lewis raises from beside you sauntering over to the dad couch, he sits on the arm of the chair beside your dad and talks lowly to them. You cannot hear what he says but by the way a grin covers the faces of the entire couch you know he's used his classic Hamilton charm on them.
He watches you as he speaks and shoots you a wink when he sees you trying to read his lips.
"I think we're going to head back to our wing of the house." He announces and that's your cue to start lifting from the couch.
You say your goodbyes, giving everyone smooches and welcoming the last of their congratulations. Lewis saunters over to you after doing the same and reaches for your hand. You graciously accept, waving one final time before he pulls you from the secondary house.
"So how are we going to go about this?" You question as the two of you walk hand in hand.
"However you want."
"I don't like how you just agree with everything I say; give me some input; this is your child, too." You ensure, "I'm open to what you want as well."
"I want you to be close to me during the pregnancy. It'd make me feel better for sure." He hums.
"Can I ask how that'd work? You're going to be traveling for the season. I want to keep my job for as long as I can."
"I want you to be stress free, I meant what I said, I'll take care of anything you need. Please just- you don't have to quit forever; just let me take care of you while you're pregnant, at least."
He looks so concerned with the idea of you working that it has you reaching up to physically push the frown from his face. You stop in front of him and poke your finger on his face by the corner of his mouth.
"Stop pouting," you instruct, "I work for my dad, after all. I think he'll understand."
He breathes a sigh of relief, grabbing your hand again as you start walking ahead of him.
"I also want everyone to know the baby's mine." He adds. "Unless you planned on keeping them out of the light, which I get-"
"Done." You cheese. "I'll let the world know you knocked me up, Sir Hamilton. More requests?"
"Move in with me."
You don't say anything as you turn to face him. The moon creates a glow around the two of you as you glance up at him.
"C'mon, I purchased the house because you liked it anyway," he shrugs. "You're there more than me during the season; Roscoe loves having you there; I love having you there. Plus, you love it there."
You stare up at him with an admiration like no other. It has him turning his blushing face to the side.
"I did say it'd be the perfect home for a kid one day, huh?" You squeal, wrapping yourself around him, "I'm so excited!"
He lifts you with one arm like you weigh nothing, and you wrap your legs around his waist.
"I'm excited, too." He hums as he walks you into the primary home. The lights are all off as he carries you up the stairs and into your room. He plops you down onto the bed, crouching down to pull your slippers from your feet.
"I can do that myself, you know? I'm not that pregnant yet." You huff.
"What kind of man would I be if I had my baby mama doing anything?" He smirks up at you.
"All it took was me carrying your child for you to be awfully sweet to me, would've fucked you sooner."
"Always sweet to you," Lewis smiles up at you, "gotta stop talking like that to me if you don't want me to get the wrong idea."
"Mhmm." You fall back into the bed.
Lewis crawls onto the bed beside you, laying his head against your stomach; he pokes you, making you jump.
"Stop it, I'm ticklish." You warn; he only smiles, nestling further into you. "There's a baby in here." His voice is so low you almost miss it.
"Thank you." You express gently, rubbing your fingers through his braids.
"For what?" utters Lewis as his palm rubs in circular motions against your belly.
"For giving me everything I've ever wanted."
"I always will."
-
Whoever came up with the saying that distance makes the heart grow fonder was truly right. Although it was less than ideal, you and Lewis were back as if it had never happened. In fact, it's like the time you had away from each other forced you into the beautiful dynamic the two of you have now. Neither of you wanted to be without the other again.
It had been three months since your beautiful discovery, so that put you at a whopping five months pregnant.
Your belly was now noticeably bigger and rounder, much bigger than it would've been if Lewis' family didn't have a history of twins. And it was most definitely getting in the way of things, literally.
You huff as you struggle to squat down low enough to lift the box of blankets you packed. Just as you feel yourself get a good enough grip on the box and you begin to lift Lewis is by your side wearing a disapproving scowl.
"How many times do I have to tell you to stop trying to carry stuff out of here."
"Lewis," you huff, "It's literally just blankets."
"I don't care, sit down." He orders.
You stomp away from him, plopping down on the couch. He walks out of the front door and returns only moments later, waltzing into your kitchen.
He appears again with a plate full of orange slices, and you sigh as he approaches you.
"Lewis, there's only so many orange slices I can take in a day, buddy."
"The doctor said oranges are a good snack for month five," he pouts, "my kids need vitamin C."
"Trust me, belly's fine."
Almost like they can sense the presence of food, they kick at you, and you, still not used to the sensation, cup your stomach in a gasp.
"Mhhm," Lewis disapproves, "feed my babies." He is setting the plate of fruit in your lap, bending quickly to peck your stomach. "I have a few more boxes to help them load and then I'll be taking you home, okay."
You can only offer him a puffy smile, your cheeks filled with fruit. He chuckles leaning over to ruffle your hair and he's pulling your forehead to his lips pressing a chaste kiss there before he's walking towards the stack of boxes.
You dreamily sigh, watching his glistening tatted back contract as he lifts the heavy mass.
These fucking babies were turning you into a horny mess.
It was the second week of June. A week later than the deadline, you promised Lewis that you'd move into his home. Well, your home now, too.
It was safe to say that Lewis meant business. You had spent the last few months bouncing from country to country, attending every race with him and basking in the free time with each other, which he had before and after races.
When you opted to skip the Canadian Grand Prix under the pretense that you would go home to oversee the movers, he hesitantly drove you to the airport the day before qualifying.
But when you got home and your preganacy brain got to you, you realized you scheduled your movers for the wrong saturday. You could've sworn Lewis was having a panic attack with the way he was in hysterics over the facetime call as you explained your situation.
He had booked himself a very late flight after his race and appeared at your doorstep with an armful of plant-based treats and a carton of strawberry fro-yo. "It's good for the babies." He smiled sheepishly as he rushed in.
And here you were now, big and bored, spread across the couch as Roscoe snuggled into your side. You don't remember falling asleep next to your furry friend, but as Lewis gently shakes you awake with an adorable twinkle in his eyes you can't even be bothered to be irritated.
"Hey, mama," he coos. "You ready to head out?"
You nod, still groggy, swinging your legs over the couch and preparing to stand. Lewis catches you off guard as he swoops you into his arms, carrying you bridal style with ease. He calls for Roscoe as he slips through the front door.
He opens the passenger side door of his car and sits you down softly, reaching over you to grab the seatbelt. And he's so close to you that it has your heart hammering when his hand swipes against your chest to pull at the belt.
"I'll be back in a second, going to lock up here."
He smirks as he closes the door and you see him taking his precious time to make it back into your former home.
You were no fool; truthfully, you were fully aware of the sexual tension that hung between you and Lewis since the night of his birthday.
There were lingering touches and gazes that you were sure were sexually charged. You've even noticed Lewis' impure reactions to you, and it made your brain race with questions.
The driver's side door opening drew you from your thoughts as Lewis appeared this time covered in a white tee. You will away your disappointment and reach for his phone to play some music. When you do you see a message from a saved contact.
Marie
Isn't it about time for you to come see me again?
"You've got a message." You tell him nonchalantly even though your heart aches.
"From who?"
You try to hand him the phone, but he waves it off, reversing the car. "Can you read it to me?"
"Marie, she says, and I quote, Isn't it about that time for you to come see me again? You late to a link, Lew?" You laugh even though there isn't shit funny to you.
"You can block her." He declares casually.
"Huh?"
"Block her for me." He orders, but he still hasn't turned to look at you. "She was just someone I saw when I was in Canada."
"Lewis, you don't have to end your fun on my account; I'm the pregnant one. You do know that you don't have to."
"Yeah." He pushes out hoarsely. You wait for him to continue, but he doesn't. In a way, you feel a sense of relief wash over you. Life with Lewis has felt so extra domestic lately. It was almost like the two of you were in a relationship, minus the physical affection. And even then, that physicality was there; you two just never kissed or, well, had sex.
You wondered if he felt it the same way you had.
But then the thought lingers in the back of your head: did he see her when you left to come home?
The way he was acting oddly uncomfortable with the conversation gave you your answer, and in the end, you couldn't fault him for it.
You do as he instructs, clicking Marie's contact and blocking her number, and then you continue on with your initial mission and scroll through Lewis' Spotify until you find music to your liking.
The rest of the drive is silent except for the soft melodies escaping his speakers.
When you pull into Lewis' driveway, he parks, turns off the car, and hurries to your side, opening the door before you even have the chance to do so. He opens the backdoor and holds onto your hand. "Roscoe, c'mon boy."
He leads you into the home like you haven't passed through the very same doors a million times before.
"Which room did they move me into?" You question making your way upstairs.
"Oh," Lewis pauses, "I figured you'd be with me, in mine."
"Oh, okay."
You walk past him and further up the stairs as he trails behind you.
When you enter his room you beeline straight into his closet, well you guys' closet and sure enough there are more of your belongings taking up space.
You stand on your tiptoes to reach for one of his tee shirts. He is behind you in an instant, one hand holding your hip firmly and forcing your feet back onto the ground. The other reaches up and grasps the shirt you had been aiming for.
When you turn to take the shirt from him, he once again gives you the same disapproving gaze he'd given you earlier.
"Oh God, Lewis. I can't even get on my tiptoes anymore?" You question, pulling the shirt from his grasp.
"You could've tipped over." He argues, following you out of the closet. "You want a bath or a shower tonight?" He queries, already heading into the bathroom.
"A bath, please; my body is killing me."
"Put this on," he orders, tossing you your robe.
You strip from your shorts and tee-shirt throwing the robe on and waiting patiently for Lewis to emerge from the bathroom.
When he does, he's shirtless, and the sweats are hanging low.
"I've got your bath running. Sit down," he orders, pointing to the bed.
"Why?" you question, but you're already moving to the bed and plopping down.
"Why do you question everything?" He chuckles. And he is slipping behind you in an instant, his hands instantly moving up to knead at your shoulders.
You can't help the moan you let out. "Fuck, that feels great. Thank you."
"It's the least I can do, letting my youngsters beat you up all day."
You can only chortle as his hands move along your back.
"Gonna come out feisty, like you."
"I am not," you argue.
"yeah, okay." He whispers, his hands traveling lower and lower. His hands are gripping your sides firmly as his thumbs massage masterfully into your back.
"Fuck, Lewis." You mewl.
"Feels good?"
"Yeah."
You almost cry as you feel him lifting behind you, but when he pushes you onto your back gently and cradles your legs, the whine in your throat is replaced with a nervous gulp.
His hands caress your thighs, moving up and down expertly, and you bask in the comfort.
"I didn't sleep with her in Canada, never even saw her this year."
"Oh," you murmur with your eyes closed. On the outside, you were calm, but mentally, you were shrieking tears of joy.
"Haven't been sleeping around." He announces again.
When you say nothing, he persists, "Haven't been with anyone since you."
You know Lewis so well that you can predict his face even before you open your eyes.
His voice sounds a bit gravelly and shaky, and you know he's peering up at you through his perfect lashes, waiting to gauge your reaction.
So when you open your eyes and see him hovering over your legs exactly as you imagined, you can only shoot him a purposeful smile.
"I figured. You've spent all of your time with me." You shrug. He nods relief washing over him. In all honesty he was happy that you recognized the switch in him. Recognized that all of his focus was soley on you and your unborn babies, who you've nicknamed belly.
"Five months is a long time to go without sex." You declare, and he bobs his head to the side,
"Not really, not for me. What about you?"
He feels his heart leap with joy at your next words.
"I haven't slept with anyone else since you either. I've gone longer without sex, so five months would've been easier if I wasn't lugging around two hormone gremlins."
You both share a laugh as you motion to your round belly.
"You're suffering then?"
"Suffering like a motherfucker." You huff.
"I can fix that."
You sit up, coming face to face with him; he stares at you intensely. It was your idea, not to mention the night you two had shared, as well as your doing, to solidify the fact that you two would never sleep together again.
However, your emotions were running, and your hormones were at an all-time high, so could anyone really even blame you for pulling his mouth to yours in a searing kiss?
Like the time before, it's like Lewis is ready for you. He pushes you back down, his legs still holding him above you. This time, Lewis takes the initiative, spreading your mouth open and entering like it's home. One of his elbows is being used as leverage to hold him above your bump. His other hand has your jaw in a tight grip, holding you in place.
Your hands are exploring his body. Traveling the expanse of his chest to his back, anything you can reach.
He disconnects his mouth from yours, his head turning towards the bathroom. "Shit, sorry."
He stands, shooting you a sorrowful look as he beelines into the washroom.
When he appears again, he is looking at you with hungry eyes, but his words are so domestic that you are ready to jump his bones.
"Made your bath too hot. Got time to let that cool down."
You smirk at him, beckoning him over. You're both sitting angled towards each other and just as you move forward to touch his lips with your own he is moving his head to the side forcing you to peck the corner of his mouth.
You lean back with furrowed brows. "What was that?"
"I want to clarify something first, this time. So we won't have a repeat of last time."
Damn, you scream to yourself. You were already extremely horny, and now you'd have to sit and listen to him declare that this was a means of pleasure only. Which in return would most likely turn you off. So yay, no life-altering dick for you tonight.
"Go on then." You wave your hand, and Lewis laughs.
"Patience, you horny beast."
You gasp, thumping his head.
"But really, I, um, wanted to let you know this for a while. It's been on my mind even heavier since my birthday."
"Okay,"
"I love you." He blurts, "and not in the conventional friendship way, you're my best friend but I love you more than that. And I have for as long as I could remember."
You feel like you've been freed from hell's gates; everything in you feels so much lighter, so much more merrier.
Like always, when Lewis tries to find the words to say, his head is tilted downwards to the side as he works through what to say. His heart is beating a mile a minute, and he can't find it in him to look at you quite yet. He has to say how he feels now, or he'll never say it.
"I'm the man I am today because of you. You've been with me every step of the way. You've never turned your back on me or gotten sick of me; you've been everything I've ever wanted from the beginning. I've tried to fill the void of not having you with other... distractions, should I say. And it never made me forget about you, never made me want you any less, always made me want you even more."
You choke up at his words. This was all you've ever wanted to hear spoken to you.
"I love you and I feel like I have ever since I've been able to have complex emotions. You are my childhood dream. Over the racing and the luxury lifestyle, over anything. I've always wanted you more than anything. I meant every word I said to you on my birthday, and I'm taking accountability now for the argument. I wanted to hear you say that you meant the words you said to me, like I meant the words I said to you. I should have just admitted it. But I didn't, and I was a fool; I regret it every day. But I love you all the same."
He peers up at you through his lashes and through his own teary eyes he can see the tears bubbling over the surface as you poke out your bottom lip in your classic pout.
"Oh, Lew," you whine, wrapping him in such a tender embrace. "You don't know how long I've waited to hear you say those words."
He nestles his head into the crook of your neck, and you can feel wetness glide down your collar.
You grasp his head in your hands, cupping his cheeks so that you can see him eye to eye.
"I love you," you state. "More than the entire world, I've always told you that, and I've always meant it."
His lips twitch, and his eyes soften. Finally, he breaks into a smile. "How much I love you is unexplainable, Lew. I've been fighting myself forever about it, frustrated that I'd never see anyone like I see you. I've been settling because I thought I couldn't have you. You're all I've ever wanted. And I meant what I said that night, too. I was made for you and only you, always only ever been yours. No one has had my heart but you."
This time, the kiss is passionate and slow. You taste saltiness as you succumb to each other. You separate with a gasp, hand coming down to soothe your stomach. "They're beating me up again." You whisper, watching as their tiny feet nudge against your stomach.
Lewis bends down, pressing pecks to your bulging belly, "Think they're just celebrating."
You watch from above with a loving smile on your face. "My little family." You coo, bringing your hand up to rest in Lewis' hair.
"I'm going to marry you, you know that, right?" Lewis peers up at you.
"I sure would hope so." And you lean down to press a kiss to his forehead.
"They're not stopping." He announces, his hand covering your own on your belly.
"They always get excited when you're close to me." You admit.
His eyes crinkle at your words, and his mouth spreads into a grin.
"I'm happy to be with you guys, too," he coos to your gut, "but we have to let Mama relax, okay." At his words, the thumps from inside of you come to a halt, and you and Lewis marvel at each other.
"Wow," you whisper.
"Come on." He is standing from the bed, holding his hand out for you.
He helps you stand from the bed, gently pulling you into the bathroom.
When you're inside, he faces you towards the mirror. He unclasps the necklace sitting it onto the bathroom counter and slowly his hands travel to your front to untie your robe. It falls off of your shoulders and he proceeds to drag it down your arms and from your body.
You stare at him through the mirror with no shame as he trails his eyes along your body.
"Most beautiful woman in the world." He hums. You're standing in front of him naked as he reaches past you to drop your now discarded robe beside your necklace.
As he does so, he presses lingering kisses to your neck.
He steps back, holding out his arm to direct you into the bathtub.
"Get in with me?" You suggest as you notice him standing off to the side.
Lewis curses himself for feeling like a shy virgin around you every time you even remotely flutter your eyes at him.
"Please." You add submerging yourself into the warm water.
Lewis slips from his sweats, easing into the tub at the other end.
"Remember when we used to have baths together as kids?" You reminisce, blowing a pile of bubbles at him.
Lewis leans back, his arms dangling over the edge. "Simple times."
"You remember when you pooped?" You tease, leaning forward.
Lewis splashes you a tiny bit, bubbles landing on your face. "That was you," he denied.
"Big fat liar." you cackled.
Lewis sees you inching towards him like a tiger on the prowl. You're in his lap before he knows it, your arms locked around his neck. He wraps his own around your waist.
No more words are spoken between you two. You lift your soapy hand and tilt his head up to you, pressing your mouth to his.
Lewis groans into your mouth as you settle over him.
"Want you so bad." You confess, your lips trailing from his mouth to his jaw and down into the crevice of his neck.
Your hand reaches down between the two of you, and you smile against his skin as you grip him.
So hard already.
Lewis throws his head back against the porcelain as you wrap your hand around him in a snug grasp.
You're in his ear saying some of the most obscene words he's ever heard as you sit on top of him, tugging him. He can feel your belly rubbing against his, and it's driving him mad.
"Want to make love? Can we do that, Lewis? Make it even better than the last time."
Lewis gasps out his words as you sit back on his legs and use both of your hands to twist and tug on him. He bites on his bottom lip and grips you tighter. "Fuck, yes. Please"
You can only smile at him as you observe his resolve crumbling. You don't stop even as he begins to spasm and continually moan out your name. He grunts one last time before it transforms into a fit of masculine whimpers. He literally falls apart in your hands as you massage him through his release.
"Got another one in you?" You ask, already positioning yourself over him.
He opens his eyes, pupils blown and wild. And then his bitten and swollen lips spread into a dopey smile.
You give him a peck; widening said smile before you line him up at your entrance. The smile is wiped from his face as his facade once again contorts to one of pure pleasure.
You can only gasp and move your grip to his shoulders as you sink onto him inch by inch until you feel him nestled tightly into you.
"Fuck." He groans.
You ease your body up and down over him slowly, he's so fucking big.
You moan as you continue your slow pace. You want to take your time with him. But it was getting increasingly hard feeling that delicious stretch every time you lifted over him.
Lewis hasn't taken his eyes off of you since you sank down onto him. He is staring at you like you hung the sun, moon, and the stars yourself.
He uses both of his hands to pull your mouth towards his, "I love you." He breathes into you, pressing passionate pecks onto your lips. He holds your face close to his, maintaining eye contact as you roll over him.
Your mouth drops open as you feel him lift his hips over and over. Between his eyes piercing into you and the slow, languid strokes he's giving you, you weren't sure what would throw you over the edge first.
You moan quietly as you feel the blaze building in your belly. He's so big that it feels like he's entering you for the first time all over again.
You feel inebriated by him as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. He's still just as vocal as he was the first time, and it's putting you in overdrive.
Lewis is thrusting up into you with a force that has the breath leaving your lips in sharp pants with every re-entry.
Your foreheads fall against each other, both of you watching your bodies drive against the water.
Lewis is lifting you from his lap like you weigh nothing. He turns you around to face the opposite way. You gasp as he pulls your arms up and directs you to hold onto the end of the tub in front of you. You're on your knees, arms holding your upper body out of the water. You feel his knees slide in between your spread legs, and his hands caress up and down your wet back.
One hand settles on your shoulder, the other on your waist, and then he is sliding into you slowly. You hang your head, letting out a deep breath, "fuck." you cry out as he strokes at such a deliberately slow momentum.
As he pushes into you, his grip on your shoulders forces you back at the same time. He's going so slow but getting so deep that it has you tightening your grip.
When he hits your spot, you lurch forward.
He pulls you back onto him, his hand tightening against your waist.
"Don't run. Stay with me." He orders, his voice is deep and raspy. "This what you wanted, remember?"
You nod your head, eyes closing shut as your thighs quiver. "Oh god."
"Want to make you feel better." He moans. "I was waiting for you to let me see this pretty pussy again." He hums, and you feel his hands spread you apart.
"So fucking pretty, so tight."
It was like he was tormenting you, giving you an inch and then taking a mile every time he pushed into you slowly just to have you wallowing for more when he pulled himself out.
"You're being greedy, mama." He chuckles as you push yourself back onto him. "take what you want then."
At his words, you begin to swivel your hips back at a much quicker pace, feeling his pelvis brush against your ass with every motion.
"C'mon, take it." he grunts. "that's right, want it so bad."
You pull yourself forward, only to spiral back into him repeatedly. Lewis is a mess behind you, his hands reaching up to hold his braids from his face. He kneels there and allows you to use his body in any way you please.
He takes in an unsteady breath when you tighten around him. As you drag your pussy over him, he feels himself being tugged with you. "So tight." he moans, "don't even wanna let me go."
He pulls you up by your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest, and begins hammering into you over and over. One hand travels to your throat, and his grip is temperate.
"All you needed, huh? Feel better already?"
You nod your head, yes, head falling back onto his shoulder. He pummels into you stroke after stroke until he feels it. You constrict around him, hands coming to grip his arm, and you moan his name over and over.
He doesn't show you any mercy. He keeps up his fast pace as you writhe in his arms. His head falls, and as he feels himself come undone, he bites down on your shoulder with a growl that lights your body on fire all over again. You feel him spurt into you, and you whine as he nestles himself into your core further.
After a while, Lewis pulls himself from your gut with a hiss. He reaches down and unplugs the drain. He sits, spreading his legs and pulling you in between them. When you're nestled against his chest, he sighs, once again placing his hand on your neck to angle your face towards his. He places a sensual kiss on your lips before letting you go with a smile.
"Should I run us a bath, or do you want to hop in the shower for a quick wash?"
You turn to the left, observing the standing shower, and you scoff. "you've ruined my legs, Lew; I couldn't stand in there if I wanted."
"Bath it is." He grins, already reaching for the knobs.
"Plus, I want to sit with you like this for a while. Bask in this."
"I love you," he expresses, "I don't think I'll ever get used to this."
_
Spoiler alert: he never did. As the days went on and turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months, and Lewis never changed his affections. You two were in a constant honeymoon phase, which you were sure was permanent.
You two were perfect for each other in every sense and made each other whole.
The dynamics that made you two the perfect friends bled over into your relationship, and things were flawless, to say the least.
Until, you felt a popping feeling and then a gush of water fall between your legs. Lewis was on his way home from the airport having left to race in Singapore he was relieved that he'd be back three days before your expected due date.
But when he gets a call from his best friend and hears your cranky voice in the background, his heart hammers with nerves.
"Miles, I swear to fucking god," he hears you groan. "if he doesn't have his high yellow ass to the hospital before I push these goddamn babies out of me, I will kill him. Tell him I will kill him."
"You heard her, man," Miles stammers. He hears commotion over the phone, and he gives up his useless attempts to grab either of your attention.
"Oi Miles!" He hears a slap in the background. "Oh my fucking god," you cry out. "Where is Whit? I don't want your help, fucking men."
Miles reappears on the screen; he looks disheveled and like he's just been in a cat fight, "Hey, brother." he pants. "I'm trying here, just how far are you?"
"Lewis leans forward, seeing his ETA on his driver's screen. "Only ten minutes. Is she okay?" His voice is full of concern, and Miles squawks.
"Brother, ten minutes is too long. She just absolutely beat my ass for putting the wrong treats in the bag. There are a million gummies in here. How am I sup-"
"Gushers, Miles. On the top shelf of the pantry behind the rice cakes."
"Why the hell are there gushers behind rice cakes?" He cries out, rushing to the pantry. Lewis sees you in the background as Miles breezes by.
You stand in the middle of the living room face set in a pout one hand grasping the a bag of organic gummies and the other holding your phone to your ear.
"Whit!" He hears you cry out, "I'm about to have these fucking babies alone with fucking Miles! Fucking Miles! And he gives me fucking Annes organic fruit snacks, Whitney! Why the fuck would I want organic candy? And Lew hid the gushers, and he's not going to be here in time, and I don't know where he put them."
Miles drops his jaw, halting his reach for the treats. "Hey, I'm trying my best! I want the best for you and my godchildren. I'm trying here!"
"Your trying isn't enough; obviously, I need the god mom. Whit! Fucking men, can't even find my fucking candy." You call out again.
"Ugh- did she just stomp away from me."
The call disconnects, and Lewis lets out a sigh of relief as he pulls into his neighborhood. He rushes out of the car, running up the steps of you guys' home. When he enters the foyer, he rushes to where he saw you last on the phone. Only you're not standing in the living room in distress. It's Miles slumped onto the couch with a family pack of gushers in his lap. He notices the two gusher wrappers beside his friend, and he storms up to him, snatching the box and slapping the side of his head.
"Where's my baby?"
"Upstairs, y'all are going to learn how to appreciate me one day. I'm the godfather to your children-"
Lewis smacks his teeth, rushing up the stairs and into your bedroom. He sees you lugging your baby bag onto the bed, and he rushes over to you, pulling it from your grasp.
"Hey bunny, I'm here."
Your lip wobbles as you look up at him, and you let out a relieved cry. Lewis opens his arms to embrace you, and you quickly pull the box from his hands, stuffing it into your bag.
"I was looking for these." You cried.
Lewis, used to your pregnant shenanigans, allows you to cry tears of relief for the sudden appearance of your after-labor treat. It's all you'd been asking for for weeks, but your doctor had you on a strict diet.
"Bunny," he persists, his arms open. You sniffle, stepping into his embrace.
"How are you feeling?"
"My vagina hurts, and I was scared you weren't going to make it."
He chuckles, holding you close to him, "always going to make it when it comes to you guys."
It's safe to say your mood didn't get any better when you made it to the hospital.
Lewis was by your side as you held onto his hand for dear life.
"Baby," he coos, "you're doing great."
"Oh my god," you wince, pulling your hand from his as you clutch the sheets. "Get the fuck away from me."
He looks baffled as you curse up a storm.
Lewis takes a step back only to be nudged forward again by the doctor. "Trust me, she'll murder you if you get away from her."
He holds onto your hand again, using the towel to wipe the sweat from your hairline.
Even now as you take in deep breaths and hang your head like you're about to die, Lewis think you are beautiful. You're glistening with sweat and throwing out words that would make a pastor faint but you're still beautiful with your freshly done birthing braids and bewildered face.
"Oh fuck this! Count the shit, measure the shit, whatever, and check again. I don't care if I'm not dilated enough; make it enough! Get these babies out of me."
You were regretting your decision to go all-natural as another contraction rippled through you. You let go of the sheet and grasp Lewis' hand again.
You look up to him, and he is staring at you in pure adoration. "I promise, you've got this." He encourages.
You feel tears of relief pool as your doctor let's out a direct order. "And we're there, when I get to three you push, okay."
You only nod as Lewis crouches down, "Push like hell, bunny."
You don't count how many times you hear him count to three or how many agonizing pushes you give until you hear the first cry. You're momentarily distracted as you watch them hold your baby into the air.
"Come on, Mom, got to keep going," your doctor orders.
You exhale, taking another deep breath as you push again. Lewis remains by your side, holding your hand and coaxing you through the pain.
"You're doing so great, bunny. So proud of you. We're about to meet our babies; we just have to push a little bit more."
His words are all you need to get through another insufferable ninety seconds before you hear an even louder cry.
Lewis kisses the top of your head as you fall back in exhaustion. "So proud of you, baby, hmm. I love you."
You're no longer the angry woman you were twenty minutes ago. You're looking up at Lewis with tired eyes that still glow with love and excitement.
"Baby boy came first." Your doctor hums settling him on one side of your chest, Another nurse comes forward settling your second baby on the oposite side. "And his sister came to stake her territory after."
You cry out, but it comes out in the form of a laugh. Your hands come up to hold both of your babies against your chest. Lewis crouches down, eyeing you three in amazement.
"My beautiful family."
He places a kiss atop each head, watching as they instantly settle down amongst your warm body.
You've never felt so much love in your life. You think back to all of the times you felt you were destined to be alone, all of the times you craved for someone to love you unconditionally. You gave up hope that you'd find it in a partner, so a baby was all you craved. But here you were with a man who loved you more than it was possible for love to exist. Here you were with two products of that love.
You order the nurse to remove one of the railings so the Lewis can nestle in beside you. The doctor suggest for him to remove his shirt and he does so quickly, gently sliding beside you. You motion for him to grab the babygirl and he eases her onto his chest with ease. You peck his head as you watch the tears glide down his face.
"I just love you all so much." he cries.
And you know exactly how he feels as you two bask in the moment.
You think back to the moment that made this all possible, laying in Lewis' bed as the words leave his mouth, "It's something about loving someone so much that you want to fill them up with another part of you."
Looking at your two babies, you could tell they each were going to represent a part of both of you. As your daughter lets out constant noises, Lewis turns to you with knowing eyes, "Just like her mama." Your son's eyes pop open at the sound of his sister, and you coo, "Brother bear."
"Do we have names ready?" The doctor hums.
-
y/u/n
liked by fencer, champagnepapi, and 2,786,901 others
y/u/n I want to share this love I found with everyone. you deserve to meet my happy family after all of this time. Of all of the things that I wanted to be, being a mother was always my true calling. It's not easy, but it's worth it. To my babies, mommy loves you always; when the world is cruel, and your heart makes you feel like a fool, know that I will be there always. To LJ, my daring little boy, I see your father in everything you do; you will always be my baby bear, so strong and courageous, but with a mind so strong and a heart so big, you're forever unstoppable. My baby, Giana, Gigi girl, you came into the world demanding to be heard. You're fierce and bold in all of the best ways. Already, I admire the way you think and the things I know you will do. You heal a part of me I didn't know needed healing. You're my favorite girls girl, I love listening to you yap puppy, I love that you love talking to me. Always stand your ground, girly; never dull your light or lower your voice for anyone or anything. If no one listens, know I will. And to the love of my life, who has given me everything I could've ever wanted, plus more. You've outdone yourself, Lew; there aren't enough words to articulate how much I love you. Still my best friend, soon to be my husband, forever and always, the love of my life <3
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lewishamiton I can never think you enough for all that you've given to me. I love you more than life bunny. ❤️
user okay but the family of crochet animals. PUPPY? BEAR? CHEETAH? BUNNYYYY? 🥲
whitwhit still so proud of you mama ❤️
y/u/n the best god mommy in the world! I love you.
landonorris Mother🤰🏽Literally. Beautiful souls, even more beautiful children.
y/u/n love love love you Lando
user i always knew they'd get together one day, my happy heart!
lewishamilton
liked by charles_leclerc, mercedesamg, and 7,796,801 others
lewishamilton Thank you will never be enough for all that has been given to me. I love you, bunny, and every time I think it's impossible to feel more than that, you prove me wrong. To the rest of our lives together, to our children, and to the life I've had with you. We're in this together, forever. Daddy loves you, LJ, and Gigi, forever here, forever loving you.
charles_leclerc So happy for you man!
sebastianvettel never have you been happier man, congratulations.
user you mean to tell me that all of this time we thought he was uncle lew and whole time HE'S THE PAPPYYYY
lewishamilton like these are my kids, that my son. I was so bothered by that ngl. THEY LOOK JUST LIKE ME.
user you tell us not to assume and then when we don't assume you want us to assume what do you want from us sir?!?!
so this is the end that's not the end, I'll most likely make blurbs for their future 🌚
hope you enjoyed it.
not proofread sorry for any mistakes I was rushing honey
@barcelonaloverf1life @mitruscity
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