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smalls-words · 2 years ago

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Chapter Nine: You Ready to Go to Church?

Summary: Whilst working, Natasha makes a few discoveries about herself. 1 - she's lonely. 2 - people come from all walks of life.

Pairings: Devil!Natasha x Fem!Detective!Reader, Natasha x Wanda, Reader x Steve (exes, co-parents), Yelena x Natasha (sisters).

Warnings: Blood, guns, drugs, death, mourning, therapy. Please let me know if I've missed anything!

A/N: This episode was quite a trek to write but semi-important. I won't be writing every episode of Lucifer for this series but I do seriously recommend watching it.

Series Masterlist

*not my gif*

The partying devil lay flat on the therapist’s couch, explaining the events of last night in great sensual detail. A pizza delivery boy getting his first experience on the job in a lingerie party, the party itself having three Brittanys, or Brittanies if you wish, and drugs, sex and alcohol of course.

“But I didn’t join them. Three Brittanies in a jacuzzi, three! And I didn’t join them.” Natasha grumbled, dressed in one of her more flattering suits that had a black, lace-hemmed corset top beneath her suit jacket, the buttons undone and tempting the doctor on the other side of the coffee table.

“Why do you think you didn’t join them?” Kate asked, sitting up straight in her chair with a neat pair of jeans and a long-sleeve shirt, her raven locks tied back in a bun.

“I don't know, Doctor. That's what I pay you to figure out, isn't it?” Natasha huffed, sitting up.

“Have you ever considered that all of this… excessive partying… may be your attempt to fill a void?” Kate offered. “‘Attempt’? I filled five voids last night.” The devil smirked, folding one knee over the other.

The doctor sighed. “That’s not what I mean.” When Natasha looked at her with a confused expression, Kate further explained. “A void in your emotional life. You sound… lonely, Natasha.”

The redhead almost cocked her head to the side like a confused puppy. “‘Lonely’? Have... have you been listening to a word I've said? I am never alone, I'm constantly surrounded by people, you know? I party whenever I desire, my bed is never cold.” She said with an exasperated sigh.

“Natasha, being alone and being lonely are two entirely different things.”

“Are they?”

“Of course. You may be surrounded by others, but… do you truly consider any of those people your friend? A peer you respect, someone you like to spend time with. Someone… with whom you share a meaningful connection.” Kate softened her voice, seeing how this was new territory for Natasha.

In classic devil nature, Natasha smirked. “Well, you and I connect quite well.”

Kate immediately shut it down. “I'm talking personally. …What about Wanda?”

Natasha’s smirk fell flat. “No. She and I are on the outs, I'm afraid. Long story filled with betrayal. You actually make a cameo in it.”

“How about Detective Valeria? Do you consider her your friend?” The doctor replied, staying calm despite the frustrated woman in front of her.

“Well, quite honestly, I... I'm not sure what we are.” She murmured.

Kate smiled gently. “Why don’t you try finding out?”

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After her therapy session, Natasha made her way back to Lux to enjoy a glass of her newest scotch ordered from Scotland, though it didn’t help that someone was already there. As she walked along the corridor, Wanda came running up the stairs in a strapless dress and thigh-high fishnet stockings. “Natasha? Listen, can we tal-?”

“I don't have time for traitors.” Natasha cut her off, her words almost a hiss.

“Look, I get that you don't want to talk to me. But someone else is here to see you for a favour.”

“Not in the mood, Wanda.”

“Trust me.You don't want to miss this one.”

When Natasha finally looked down at Wanda, there was a flash of demonic happiness in her eyes. Her irises glowed their swirling red, and she gently turned Natasha’s head by her chin to see a man waiting for her in the main club area.

“Be gone.” Natasha muttered to Wanda, a simple wave of her hand before Wanda made herself scarce.

Natasha slowly came down the stairs, tying up her hair whilst she buttoned up her suit jacket. If this was official business, she’d look official for it.

“You wanted to speak with me?” She declared herself known to the man.

As he stood, his bald head and dark skin tone reminded her of someone she knew by blood. He wore a suit, much like her own, though far more formal - and she didn’t wear a clerical collar either.

“Natasha Romanoff. I’m Father Frank Lawrence.” He introduced himself politely, a smooth slick to his baritone voice as he held out his hand to shake.

She didn’t shake it, instead chuckling. “A priest walks into a bar. I've heard this one before. Never seen it, though. At least, not here.”

She dawdled around to the other side of the bar, pouring herself some whiskey since the scotch had yet to be unpacked. “Padre, how did you of all people find me?”

“Don't let the collar fool you.” He gestured to it minutely. “I have friends from all walks of life. And some of these friends tell me you're the woman to see when you run out of options.”

“Ooh, what kind of nasty trouble have you gotten yourself into then? Pinched too much from the collection basket?” She teased.

“I'm here about a neighbourhood youth center.” Father Frank explained.

“Sounds dreadful.” Natasha grumbled, sipping the whiskey.

“It is... especially when you realise it's being used as a front for an illegal drug operation. The center's director, Lenny Arietta, is recruiting kids from my church to move his product.”

She tsked. “Ah, so this is about young boys, of course it is.”

“One in particular. A kid named Connor. He's had it rough. Lost both his parents at six. Bounced from home to home, some juvie. But deep down, a good kid.” He paused and pulled out his cell phone, a picture already loaded once unlocked.

The devil put down her whiskey and studied the image. A white young male, no more than 16 or 17. A blue beanie covered blonde hair, a grey shirt with a skull on it and blue collar hems, whilst he had a black zip-up hoodie with white drawstrings.

“So, diddling this one, are you?” She asked, handing the phone back.

He chuckled dryly, taking the phone back. “How about I not dignify that with an answer, and instead ask my favour?”

“Thank fuck, I was wondering when you'd get to it.” She grumbled, pouring another glass of whiskey.

“I want you to talk to Arietta before Connor gets involved.”

“And why not go to the police? Got something to hide, do you?”

“They were useless. Couldn't find anything on Arietta.”

Natasha felt a bit protective when he said that the police were useless. She knew that if you had been given this case, you would have tried your damned hardest to solve it. She just knew it.

“Why not ask your boss then, hey? The Almighty Himself.” She smirked, pointing at the ceiling but not looking at it.

“I already have.” He answered.

“Oh, no luck?”

“On the contrary - I believe he led me to you.”

She chuckled heartily. “Oh, I highly doubt that. So that's it, is it? Stop a drug ring to help some kid get out of trouble.”

Father Frank sat down as Natasha rounded the bar again, coming closer to him before she grinned lightly. “What's in it for you? What is it you really want? That dirty dark desire I can see you struggling to hold in.”

She watched with glee as her mojo worked on the priest, his eyes glazing over slightly. “What I really want… is to put my fist through Arietta's face.”

“Ha! And there it is. Wrath.” She grinned deviously, pleased with herself. “Ooh, not so high and mighty now, are you?”

“We all have demons inside.” He murmured, like he was shamefully admitting that fact.

She shrugged. “My demon tends the bar. So come on, what else are you hiding? Hypocrites like you always have something.”

“You don't know anything about me.”

“Oh, I know plenty. You and I are natural sworn enemies.”

He sighed. “Let’s cut to the chase - you gonna help me or not?”

“My answer to you, Father, is a big fat no. Handle it yourself.” She said, mocking his title before she walked off. “Wanda?! Are the Brittanies still here?!”

“No - but Valeria called.” Wanda echoed through the halls.

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“You're lucky I don't have any active cases, or else I'd send this to Narcotics.” You grumbled as you walked with Natasha up the ramp of the youth centre, dressed in your black jeans, jacket, a blue-black striped long sleeve with your badge and gun in its holster.

“Narcotics? No, no, no, no. I don't give a damn about the drug dealer. We're here to investigate the priest.” Natasha clarified.

“Priest? I thought we were here to talk to the youth director.” You raised an eyebrow at her, questioning her motive for this case.

“We are. To get dirt on the priest. He must be hiding something. And what better way to stick it to dear old Dad than prove that those who speak on His behalf aren't as virtuous as they pretend to be?” She grinned.

You sighed as you approached the youth director’s office. “You thought it'd be a good idea to rope me into your imaginary family feud? Great.”

“Look, am I mistaken or do you catch bad guys? Now, this priest is up to something. Something nefarious... I can feel it.” Natasha said, looking at the passing children with a slightly disgusted expression.

“Last I checked, your feelings don't count as probable cause.” You remarked, knocking on the double doors to the office.

“Well, isn't the fact that he came to me probable cause enough? Or I could just interrogate this youth director by myself.” Natasha shrugged, knocking the door before you could stop her.

“No, just let me do the talking. Mr. Arietta?” You called through the door, checking the handle to find it locked.

“Hmm. Well, if I were trapped in here with these vile children, I'd lock my door as well.” She smirked. You bent down and looked through the small glass gap of the door, scattered papers littering the floor as well as some knocked over science glassware. But just when you were about to pull away, you spotted a pair of legs lying face down on the floor.

“Back up.” You muttered to Natasha before you raised your foot and kicked in the door, the lock snapping on its way open.

“Well, Detective.” Natasha grinned before following you inside, momentarily staring at your legs and wondering about the strength they held.

“Look.” You said, alarmed at the sight of Arietta’s limp form on the ground.

You knelt down, stunned at the pool of blood by his head, and pressed two fingers to his carotid artery. “He's dead.” You uttered before pulling out your phone and calling it in.

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“M.E. puts the time of Arietta's death between 11:30 and 12:00 this morning.” You said to Natasha as she stood by you, crime techs working the scene methodically.

“Cause was multiple hits with a baseball bat. There are some abrasions on his face, so it looks like he struggled before he died. And I found this.”

“Ooh, what's that?” Natasha cooed like a pirate finding treasure, taking the small device but being careful to keep her fingers on the latex glove around it.

“It's a voice modulator. Hey, can you not do that?” You grumbled as she spoke into it.

“Detective, I am your father.” Her voice came out deeper and incredibly modulated, her chuckle afterwards making you shake your head.

“It's not a toy, Natasha. It could be evidence.”

“Well, I'm impressed. Looks like the priest handled it himself after all.”

“We don't know if the priest did this.”

“Well, maybe you don't.”

“Detective Valeria?” A crime tech called for you at the door just as you were about to get annoyed with Natasha.

You handed off the voice modulator to a crime tech and went to the door, a person waiting for you yet you didn’t wait for Natasha to follow.

“Hey, you're the head counsellor, right?” You said just as Natasha went under the tape.

“Uh, yeah. I’m Eric Doyle.” The man introduced himself, an overweight yet ‘gentle giant’ nature to his stature with a cropped haircut, a grey polo and jeans on whilst a clean watch was clasped on his wrist.

“Any idea who might've done this?” You asked him, folding your arms.

“No. I mean, everyone liked Lenny. He was a good boss.” He replied.

“So, he had no enemies whatsoever, no? Especially any who wear clerical collars?” Natasha snickered lightly at her obvious meaning.

Doyle’s face showed that he recognised the name. “So you know about the priest.”

“Oh, yes.” The devilish woman nodded, excited now that there was another lead in her favour.

“Yeah, that guy's always coming around here and getting into arguments with Lenny. But he's a priest, so… not much I can do about it.”

“Right. Mr. Doyle, where were you between 11:30 and 12:00 this morning?” You questioned, getting on with it.

“Uh... here. In counselling sessions with, uh, Nikki and Connor.”

“Connor? That's the altar boy from the priest's photo.” Natasha murmured.

Behind you, two officers were keeping away two teenagers. As you approached, you relinquished the officers and asked them for their names. Funnily enough, they were Nikki and Connor.

“So, is it, is it true Mr. Arietta's dead?” Connor asked slowly.

“Well, duh, dumbass.” Nikki scoffed, dressed in very emo-esque clothes, particularly the ‘SKATE OR DIE’ on her shirt next to a Dia de Los Muertos skull.

“It is. Yeah. Did you know him well?” You asked, trying to be gentle.

“A little, I guess. He- he- I mean, he ran the place.” Connor shrugged.

“Do you know if Mr. Arietta was involved in any drug activity?”

“Drugs?” Nikki laughed. “I mean, I wish he was. That would've made him more interesting.”

Natasha chuckled. “Okay. Enough about the dead guy. Tell me everything you know about Padre Pederast.” She pointed at Connor.

“Who?”

“Father Frank. Did you see him do this? Do you think he's capable?” She sighed, annoyed at his young teenage boy's mind for not catching up.

“Father Frank? Kill Mr. Arietta? No. No way.”

Nikki scoffed. “What do you mean "no way"? The guy's a creeper and totally obsessed with you.”

“He's just overprotective. Ever since my parents died, he feels like he's got to watch out for me or something. But he's a good guy. He's just a little... just a little annoying.” Connor shrugged.

“See? Annoying.” Natasha looked at you.

“Mm-hmm.” You lazily answered her. “When was the last time you saw him?”

“Uh, he... Here this morning.” Connor stuttered.

“Yeah, preacher seemed pretty pissed.” Nikki added.

You sighed, thanking the two before you went with Natasha to the station to look up the preacher, using the devil to help ID him visually.

“That's him. Frank Lawrence. The most evil of people have the most normal names, I've experienced. Beware anyone named Keith.” Natasha warned you, to which you nodded sceptically.

“Well, his criminal record's pretty extensive. assault and battery, disorderly conduct, drug charges.”

“See? Not very priest-like.”

“But nothing in the past ten years.” You added, searching the screen to find a very important document. “Ah, a restraining order filed by Lenny Arietta last week.”

“Ah, well, it's funny how Padre Punchy failed to mention a restraining order.” Natasha snickered. “Please tell me now we have enough to bring this priest down.”

“We have enough to bring him in. You ready to go to church?” You grinned, grabbing your jacket.

“Bringing down a priest is the only reason I ever would.”

“In. Bring him in.”

Natasha rolled her eyes lightly. “Yes, bring him in so we can bring him down. You’re no fun sometimes.”

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In the underground police parking lot, Malcolm stood and waited impatiently for his visitor. “I know you're there. What, are you watching over me? Like my own guardian angel.”

From the shadows, Yelena appeared, expressionless, in a neat blue suit with a white corset top, along with a few simple-banded gold rings on her fingers.

“Yeah. Grumpy guardian angel.” Malcolm mumbled.

“Forgotten about our deal, Malcolm? Because I brought you back from the dead for a single purpose.” She said, her accent making the man uneasy.

“Yeah, about that, I've... been meaning to ask. Why me?”

She raised a single eyebrow. “Why you?”

“Yeah. I mean, uh, I must be something special for you to go to all that trouble.” He grinned.

She chuckled darkly. “Don't flatter yourself. You're simply… in a unique position to do what I need done.”

His ego deflated at her words. “'Cause I'm a cop.”

“That, yeah.” She nodded, circling him. “And because… I know you'll do anything to avoid going back to Hell.”

When she stopped behind him, he stiffened at her breath on his neck. “Now, stop bothering me with these questions and just finish the task I've given you.”

Malcolm stepped forward to get away from her, turning whilst chuckling sheepishly. “Don't you worry your pretty little head. I'm already on it, all right? Everything's going according to plan.”

Yelena began to walk away before she stopped and looked over her shoulder at him. “Don't keep me waiting. Patience…” She chuckled. “She is not one of my virtues.”

Malcolm sighed, closing his eyes. “I promise you, I... I got this.” He stuttered because when he opened his eyes…

Yelena was gone.

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“Miss Valeria, Miss Romanoff, surprised to see you again.”

“Oh, I wouldn't miss this for the world.” Natasha grinned deviously at the priest.

“Father Frank, when was the last time you saw Lenny Arietta?” You asked him, ignoring Natasha’s jokes.

“This morning.”

“Despite the restraining order.”

“I answer to a higher authority.” He argued slightly.

“Not today you don't.” Natasha sang teasingly.

You gave her one glance and she rolled her eyes, putting her hands in her pockets as she let you question the priest. “What happened when you saw him?”

“We exchanged words. Things got a little heated.”

“What were you fighting about?”

“That altar boy of his, of course.” Natasha chuckled.

You ignored Natasha again. “Why were you fighting over Connor?”

“Because I'm worried that Arietta's gonna pull Connor into his drug ring.” He said, the words suspiciously identical to his last reasoning.

“So, what, you give him a right hook?” Natasha smirked, pointing at his bandaged hand.

Father Frank lowered his head. “Sadly, I did.”

“And then what?” You asked, folding your arms.

“And then I left.”

“Ooh, no, no, no, I think you skipped a part, didn't you?” Natasha chimed in. “You know, the part where you beat him to death with a baseball bat?”

“He's dead?” Father Frank asked, shocked. “Oh, Heavenly Father.” He murmured, painting the cross on his chest.

Natasha rolled her eyes (it seems she likes doing that). “Oh, come on. How gullible do you think we are?”

Father Frank shook his head. “I had troubles with the man, but he didn't deserve to die. And I certainly didn't kill him.”

You sighed, trying to de-escalate the situation. “Can you account for your whereabouts between 11:30 and 12:00 this morning?”

Father Frank thought for a moment. “Uh, I was here. Taking confessions. Mrs. Madison had a lot to say, took up the whole hour.”

Natasha sighed. “By chance, does Mrs. Madison have a limo driver?”

The priest looked at her, confused at how she knew that. “She does.”

“Damn. Just spoke to his alibi.” Natasha said to you.

“You- What?” You muttered.

“The MILF in confession.” She added, pointing to the confession box where a woman stepped out, fixing her ruffled hair and dress as well as her lipstick.

You sighed, poking your finger on the bridge of your nose three times in frustration. “Oh, great. Yeah, as much as I'm sure that followed protocol, I'm still gonna have to question her myself.”

You turned to the priest. “Father, I'm gonna need you to come into the station for a statement.”

After Father Frank collected his jacket and valuables, you and Natasha walked with him outside of the church to your cars. However, your head perked up at the sound of screeching tires, and you spotted a handgun being pointed out of a car window.

“Get down!” You called out, shoving Natasha and Father Frank to the ground before getting down yourself.

A full round unloaded from the gun, a stray bullet hitting the bus stop shelter glass before the driver took off. You jumped up, and though you tried, you could not get a full plate number off of the speeding car.

“And you wonder why I don't go to church.” Natasha sighed, readjusting her suit and corset top.

After three police vehicles turned up and cornered off the church main entrance as a crime scene, you went inside to talk to some people. You sent a crime tech to search the partial of the plate you had, along with the model of the car before finding Natasha by the pews.

“So I spoke to Father Frank's alibi. Checks out. He was in confession with Mrs. Madison from 11:00 to 12:00. He's not our guy.”

Natasha sighed. “Well, maybe she's lying. I mean, you know the sort of people that go to church. Sinners.” She tried to joke, but you didn’t seem to be in the mood.

“Lab results from the voice modulator came back empty. No prints, no DNA. Whoever did this is good.”

“What, so you think this shooting and the youth director's death are connected?”

“We know they have at least one thing in common.” You said calmly, walking up to Father Frank as he sat in the front pew.

“Father, you will be relieved to know that no one was injured.”

“Oh, thank God.” He sighed in relief.

Natasha grumbled. “Please don't.”

You looked sternly at the priest. “Now, Father… this wasn't a random attack. They were shooting at you. But you don't seem surprised. What aren't you telling us?”

He stood whilst pulling out his phone, holding it out and putting it on speaker. “Keep your nose out of our business or else.” A distorted voice came through before the voicemail ended.

“The voice modulator from Arietta's office. You should have gone to the police with this.” You scolded lightly.

“I assumed it was Arietta, and I'm not afraid of him. But if it's The Spider…” Father Frank trailed off.

“Spider?”

“I've heard whispers of another dealer trying to take over Arietta's business. People call him ‘The Spider.’ Scary, violent reputation.”

“Do you know who this Spider is?”

“I don't.”

You studied him for a moment. His eyes couldn’t meet yours and his shaking head showed fear. “You're holding something back, Father. I can tell.”

“I have a confession to make.” He hurried out.

“Finally!” Natasha cheered. “Well, the truth will set you free... isn't that what your beloved book says?”

“I lied when I said Connor was in danger of becoming involved. He already is. Dealing for Arietta.”

“What, that's it? Oh, please don't tell me that's what you've been holding back all this time.” The redhead looked disappointed.

“Wait. If Connor's already in deep, why go to all this trouble to protect him?” You asked.

“He's had it rough. Thinks he can only rely on himself. He's a good kid, Detective. There's still hope for him.”

You shook your head. “Father, you were today's target. We need to worry about your safety first. Do you have a place to stay? We can offer police protection.”

“I'm fine right here. This... is my sanctuary.” He sighed, sitting back down.

“Well, your sanctuary just got shot to high heaven, Padre.” Natasha chuckled. “But if you're looking to lay low, I believe I know just the place.”

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Natasha smirked at Father Frank as he sat in the same booth he met the devil in, strippers dancing in front of them dressed as nuns… initially. They had kept the veils and coifs on, but underneath was nothing but dark red lingerie as they danced to Do Ya Thang Girl by DJ Jubilee.

“Thought this might make you feel more at home, you know.” Natasha smirked at the priest as she sipped on her scotch.

“Sure you did.” Father Frank chuckled.

You walked past the strippers and into the booth, sliding in next to Natasha. “Hey.” You greeted her, to which she gave you a gentle smile.

“Malyshka.” She greeted you back.

“So, partial plates from the shooter's SUV came back with a couple matches. But this is interesting, one of them was recently reported stolen outside the youth center.”

“Oh, so you think someone inside's responsible.”

“I think it's too much of a coincidence not to be, but I ordered traffic cam footage, so hopefully it'll show us who was driving.”

“Hopefully.” Natasha grinned, her eyes falling onto the stripper in front of her.

Your eyes even had a little wander before returning to the task at hand. “Couldn't resist, huh?”

“Well, the man deserves some fun.” The devil grinned.

“Or you still want to prove he's a hypocrite.

“Well, what can I say? Temptation's in my nature.”

Natasha’s eyes fell onto yours and you held her gaze for a moment. In that moment, you felt safe, like being in this lustful partying bar was the safest place on Earth purely because Natasha was there.

“Hmm. And how's that working out for you?” You grinned, looking at Father Frank.

His head was nodding along to the music, his hand tapping on his thigh. Natasha seemed confused by his clear delight at the sensual song. “Padre, does this not bother you?”

“What can I say? I love this song.” Father Frank chuckled.

As the night dragged on, the three of you were having a wonderful time. You even had a drink with them, Natasha ‘accidentally’ making herself sit on your right whilst Father Frank was on your left, keeping you safe.

“You sure you're gonna be okay in here, Father?” You asked, the case coming to the forefront of your mind.

“This? Oh, absolutely. I grew up in places like this.” He excused.

“Oh, I find that hard to believe.” Natasha snickered, sipping on a new whiskey flavour.

He shook his head at her before his posture looked like he was starting a story. “No one's born a priest. Before the cloth, I was just Frank Lawrence, a touring musician.”

“Really? Let me guess... cowbell.” She replied.

“Close. Piano. Good old rock and roll. Opened for Dylan, Bowie, the Stones…”

“The Rolling Stones?”

“Yep. It was a crazy time, let me tell you.” Father Frank chuckled. “I was a lot like you, really.”

As Natasha finished her whiskey, she shook her head with a wry smile. “That's literally impossible.”

“Thought the fun would never stop.” He sighed, a sad expression filling his eyes. “Then, uh…”

“Father, you don't have to…” You murmured, putting a comforting hand on top of his injured hand’s wrist.

“No, no, no, no. Go on.” Natasha interjected.

The priest nodded, giving you a comforting smile. “Car accident. Ten years ago. I was travelling with Connor and his family. Uh, Connor's dad was a drummer, we used to play together. Another car swerved into our lane and, uh… Connor lost both his parents that night.”

Your expression fell into a remorseful one. You couldn’t imagine losing someone like that.

“My daughter was with us, too. She didn't make it, either.”

Let alone your child.

“Thought I'd seen some dark days. Nothing compared to losing my little girl. My heart just... cracked right open.”

His whole body went still. His eyes didn’t blink, his chest barely moved. The memories were as fresh as yesterday’s breakfast for him, even if they were a decade ago.

“That pain…” You muttered, shaking your head. “I’m so sorry, Father.”

“Well, you must have been awfully angry at your beloved God.” Natasha said, a slight anger to her tone but not directed at Father Frank.

“I was so... untethered. Lost. Turning to Him is what saved me.” He replied, wearing a fake but gentle smile.

“So... hold on. God stole your spawn and then you decided to worship Him?”

“I can't really explain it, but somehow it made me feel that she was safe. That's when I discovered my faith. The church gave me purpose. It was there that I crossed paths with Connor again. Me, a parent without a child; him, a child without a parent.”

You smiled softly. “You connected with him.”

He nodded. “We might not always understand it, but God has a plan.”

Natasha sighed. “Yes. I know. But why does everybody always think it's a good plan?”

Suddenly, your phone began to ring and you cleared your throat from the emotion that Father Frank’s story had brought up. “Please excuse me, Father.”

He nodded, though you didn’t need his permission, and you left to take the phone call.

“So, can we just go back to this absurd notion that you and I are in any way similar?” Natasha asked.

“You're right. We're not.”

“Thank you!”

“I'm probably a much better piano player than you are.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow before she looked around the club. Her piano was in the centre of the floor but it was too packed and loud for the two. She turned to the human bartender and told him that she’d be upstairs if you needed her.

“Well come on then, Padre. Let’s test your silly theory.” She smirked, leading him up to the penthouse.

Of course, she let Father Frank play first, his fingers dancing over the keys with the practised grace of an experienced player; though, Knocking on Heaven’s Door wasn’t wonderful for her ears.

“D-Do you know anything that doesn't make me want to, you know, impale myself? Like, uh... Something more upbeat. Something a bit, um... I mean, like, uh…” She shrugged, sitting down on the top side of the piano seat.

Immediately, she grinned as a song came to mind, playing a wilder melody of Mess Around by Ray Charles.

“Oh. I think I know what you mean.” Father Frank matched her grin, beginning to play the bottom side of the song in a similar jive and rhythm.

“Something like that?”

“Yeah.” She smirked.

“Okay.”

As they played, Natasha was impressed. “Father has got soul.”

“You ain't seen nothing yet.”

“Oh? Would you like to take the top?”

“Why not? Excuse me.”

As they swiftly swapped places, with Father Frank playing a glissando up the keys whilst Natasha spun around him to sit on the bottom side, she laughed heartily.

Though she wouldn’t admit it aloud, she was having fun with this soulful priest.

It was then that you appeared in the elevator, though neither of them noticed. You were happily surprised by the sight before you, tapping your finger in your pocket to the rhythm as you came to lean on the bar beside the piano. After a few more seconds of playing, Natasha noticed you out of the corner of her eye and immediately stopped playing.

“Oh.” Father Frank chuckled, looking between the two of you.

“Hi.” Natasha said after clearing her throat, putting her stoic face back on.

“Hi.” You greeted softly, giving her a knowing warm smile as if to say ‘I caught you having fun with the priest, hypocrite’.

Natasha cleared the air with her shrug. “Yeah, well, I suppose that wasn't completely terrible.” She directed at Father Frank.

“Not completely.” He laughed, patting her shoulder gently.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but Father Frank's story about The Spider checks out, and I got a lead so we should go.” You said, looking at Natasha.

She nodded and grabbed her jacket, patting Father Frank’s shoulder. “Well, you stay here. You need the practice.”

And the two of you left with the priest’s hearty laugh echoing in the penthouse.

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Upon exit of your car into a hidden skate park, you walked beside Natasha and mentally noted how she scanned the premises. “I talked to Narcotics and one of their CI's said The Spider's rumoured to hang out here.”

“Well, I don't know why you had to bring me along.” She said.

“What, are you anxious to get back to your new friend?” You teased.

She scoffed. “Please. The Devil friends with a priest? That's absurd.”

“It's absurdly adorable. You know, it's okay to admit you like the guy.”

“He's everything that I stand against, Detective.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes we get along best with the people we're most different from.” You shrugged.

As you scanned the place, Natasha observed you. You looked tired, a bit frazzled even. when she saw a man looking at your ass, she took a step towards you, glaring at him with the fury of a thousand suns.

If only her eyes were glowing. That would shock him into being a decent member of society.

“Look.” You said, pulling her out of her glare to look through the crowd.

“Oh. Little Miss Sunshine from the youth center.” She chuckling.

“Yeah, Nikki.”

“What's that she's doing?”

You watched her hands move swiftly between people before sighing. “Drug deal. And a smooth one. Maybe she's The Spider.”

“Ooh, black widow, then. Lovely.” Natasha grinned, about to stride forward and confront her but you held her back.

“Wait. She's giving it to someone else.” You muttered, pulling her back.

You pressed up against her chest, trying to minimise your visibility from Nikki. Natasha looked down at you, perplexed, her cheeks a little red as she tried to keep it down.

“To Connor.” You realised, seeing the boy accept the money from Nikki.

Then his eyes fell on you. With fear or rage or something in his eyes, he pulled out a gun and shot into the ceiling, sending the crowd into a frenzy.

“Get down!” You yelled, pulling out your own.

Though the crowd was working against you as you tried to squeeze through a gap between the people rushing out of the fenced skate ramp and the fence itself. You raced through the back door where Nikki and Connor went through, but the alley was empty.

“Gone. Great.” You sighed, putting your gun back in your holster.

“Why was the black widow giving her cash to altar boy?” Natasha asked, checking the alleyway with her glowing eyes as you checked your ringing phone.

“You never want to carry dr*gs and money on you at the same time. Makes you a target.” You opened your phone. “Or because Connor's The Spider.”

Natasha stopped glowing her eyes, satisfied that nobody was nearby, and looked back at you.

“Traffic cam footage.” You showed her your phone, a clear photo of Connor in the driver’s seat with a gun in hand.

“Ah, from the church shooting. So the boy the priest was trying to protect is the one who tried to kill him? Well, isn't that an ironic kick in the cassock?”

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When you returned to Lux, Father Frank was evidently shocked at the news by the way his hands shook whilst he held your tablet in his hands. “This doesn't prove Connor's The Spider.” He said firmly, giving you back the tablet which had Connor’s photos on it.

“It's pretty damning, Father. And it's enough for the APB that just went out. Connor's been declared armed and dangerous.”

“Armed and dangerous? The boy needs to be helped, convinced to turn himself in.”

“Father, he shot at you. He fired into a room full of kids.”

“Yes, but he shot up, didn't he?”

You sighed, knowing he felt for this kid as if he was his son. “We'll do everything we can to bring him in peacefully. I promise you that.”

Father Frank sighed too. “If you'll excuse me, I... need some air.”

Natasha wandered over with three drinks of whiskey in her hands, offering to the priest but denied. She then turned to you, smiling gently. “Drink, malyshka?”

You shook your head. “I have some digging to do. Will you watch over him until I get back?”

“What?” She huffed. “You want me to babysit the priest?”

You smirked as you retreated into the elevator. “I babysit you all the time.”

Natasha mumbled grumpily to herself as she walked towards her balcony, standing right next to Father Frank as he held a cigarette in the other hand.

“Need a light?” She offered.

He chuckled dryly. “No, thanks. Quit years ago. Still enjoy the ritual, though. Always keep one on me.”

She nodded, putting her lighter back in her pocket. “Please tell me you didn't come out here to talk to Him.”

“God? Why not? This is as good a spot as any.”

Natasha laughed, shaking her head. “Right.” She did pause though, looking at him with curiosity. “Does He, uh... does He ever talk back?”

He was quiet before answering. “I don't need to hear Him to... hear Him. If you know what I mean.”

“Well, yes, He never talks to me, either. Listen, um…” She said to quickly change topics. “Sorry about the altar boy. Surely you know you're not to blame. I mean, some people are just... beyond saving.”

“That's where you're wrong. There's still hope for him.”

She sipped on her drink, giving him a doubtful expression. “He shot up your church, he's most likely running a drug ring behind your back, and, oh, yes, killed a man.”

“I don't believe that.” Father Frank countered.

“Look, what if it's true?”

“Then he needs me even more.”

She scoffed, looking at him like he was a freak. “How can you still have faith in this boy?”

“God has faith in him. In all of us. Even in our darkest moments.”

“Oh, you really believe that.”

“I do.” He answered back quickly. “Why don't you?”

Her face fell stoic once again. “Because He didn't have faith in me.”

“Hmm.I felt that way once, too. But now I know, deep in my heart, God has a plan for me.”

“Oh, His plan for me was quite clear.” She scoffed, glaring at the cloudy sky for a moment.

“How do you know it's finished?” The priest chuckled.

Natasha stood there in silence, pondering his words and views. In her head, it possibly made sense that the plan for her wasn’t over. But the hatred and betrayal in her heart threw that thought into the garbage disposal, hoping that it could be as easily forgotten as it was learned.

“Excuse me. One of my parishioners, uh, a lot of them are still upset about the shooting.” Father Frank held up his phone.

Yeah. Don’t… Don’t worry about it.” She muttered, leaning on the balcony as he entered the elevator to take the phone call.

Pressing the ground button with determination on his face.

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After finding out Father Frank was no longer in Natasha’s custody, you quickly drove to the club and found Natasha.

“Why would he do that? Why would he just run away?” You scoffed, collecting the devil to the bar.

“Wanda, the priest, have you seen him?” Natasha asked the demon at the bar doing stocktake.

“So you're talking to me now?” She said bitterly.

Natasha glanced at you before glaring her glowing eyes at Wanda. “Have you seen him?!”

Wanda relinquished and bowed her head slightly, just enough for Natasha to be pleased and stop glowing her eyes. “He was down here on his phone. Heard him talking to someone named Connor. He left to go meet him.”

“He left? Where to?” You asked, though Wanda ignored you.

“Maybe he's trying to convince Connor to turn himself in.” You said to Natasha.

“No. He's probably trying to hide the little miscreant. Put his faith in God, not the police.” She scoffed.

“Why do you care about a priest?” Wanda sneered.

“I don't.” Natasha bit back, tempted to glow her eyes again.

“Where would he hide him? Where would he hide Connor?” You muttered to yourself.

“Somewhere he considers safe, I assume.” The devil shrugged.

It clicked in your head. “Sanctuary.”

You stormed out to your car, thankful that the valet hadn’t moved it, and jumped into the driver’s seat. You kept your lights and sirens off, and drove quietly along the street to the church.

“Malysh.” Natasha said quietly, trying to steady your shaking hand by putting hers on top. “Are you sure it’s a good idea for you to get involved with a shooting again? Jimmy did a number on your shoulder.”

You looked over at her briefly before driving, though not moving her hand from yours. “I’ll be okay. I did some extra exercises at the department.”

“Okay.” She said, though still worried.

As you stepped out of the car, you stormed up the stairs and pulled Natasha in behind you. “Behind me, always. You are not getting shot on my watch.”

You leaned in by the window of the front entrance door, seeing Father Frank with his hands in the air, with Connor pointing a gun at him. You snuck in quietly through the door, crouching to the floor so that you were no higher than the pews.

“You don't want to do this. I know you. This isn't you.” Father Frank reasoned with Connor.

“Sorry, I don't have a choice, okay? I have to do this.”

“I get it. You don't think you can rely on anyone else to survive... but you're not alone. I'm here for you, whenever you need me, son.”

“I don't need you! Okay? I don't need anybody!” He said, with a strained tone to his voice.

“Go on, then, shoot the altar boy.” Natasha murmured in your ear. “In the leg or something, obviously.” She added after you shushed her.

“Just do it, Connor. Pull the damn trigger already.” A voice said before a familiar face came from the right side of the church.

“That's Eric Doyle. That's our Spider.” You realised.

“The counsellor.” Natasha muttered.

“You know, Nikki… I trust her. But you? I think you're too attached to this preacher. You're gonna have to show me that you're not.” Doyle spoke to Connor, like a devil on his shoulders.

“No shot from here.” You told Natasha, moving closer to the scene.

“I know you, Connor. That drive-by, you intentionally missed me, didn't you?” Father Frank asked calmly.

“Stop talking. Please.” Connor whimpered, his hand shaking around the gun.

Doyle sighed. “Make him stop talking. It's really easy.”

“You couldn't do it then, and you don't want to do it now. God's giving you a second chance right here.” The priest whispered, trying to coax the boy towards him.

“E-Enough with the sermon, preacher! Connor, just shoot this son-of-a-bitch already.” The Spider huffed.

“Just follow your heart, son. I have faith in you.”

You slowly crept behind the front pew, gun in hand and eyes lasered onto Connor’s gun.

With a few trembling breaths and shaky hands, Connor lowered it and faced Eric. “I can't do it, Doyle. I'm sorry.” He said, dropping the gun.

Doyle sighed. “I'm sorry, too, kid. I can't allow weakness, not when I've just taken control.”

As he pulled out a gun, Father Frank pulled Connor backwards and behind him, stepping in front.

“No!” He yelled as Doyle fired the gun.

Straight into his heart.

You shot Doyle in the stomach, rendering him useless as you kicked away his gun. He wouldn’t die, though he would hurt.

“Hands up. Get down on the ground.” You told Connor, trying to be firm but gentle as he did exactly as you asked.

“Father!” Natasha yelled, rushing to his side. “No, no, no, you idiot! The bloody hell were you thinking?!”

“This is Unit 831 at St. Morgan's Church. We need two ambos, code 4.” You called into your phone, putting the phone down but letting it continue.

“Don't go anywhere, you moron!” Natasha growled at Father Frank, his suit quickly becoming sticky with blood as she put pressure on the front and back of his chest.

“It's okay. I'm not afraid of dying.” Father Frank muttered, spitting out some blood.

“Well, you should be. It's really boring where you're headed.” She said, pulling off her jacket and pressing it against his chest.

“I hope so. I've had enough excitement for one life.” He chuckled.

“Stop talking like that. You've got more to do here. You've got more people to annoy.” She said, her voice becoming shaky.

“Pressure on the wound, Natasha.” You told her, keeping your gun facing Doyle.

“I am!” She growled. “Just come on, Frank, stay with me, stay with me.”

He groaned as she adjusted him in her grip, time ticking by as all they could do was wait for an ambulance. Natasha had no first aid experience, and you didn’t have any equipment necessary for such a wound.

“Oh, uh... at first… I didn't understand why God put you in my path. But then it hit me.” He chuckled, blood spilling onto the cuffs of Natasha’s long sleeve shirt.

“Maybe... He put me in yours.”

“I… highly doubt it. He gave up on me a long time ago.”

“You're wrong, Natasha. Remember… your father... ha-has- has a plan.”

“My father?” She asked, confused.

“Yeah.”

She realised what he meant. “You know?”

Lightning flashed and thunder clapped above the church as she looked at the blood spilling beneath Father Frank. Though when she went to speak to him again, his eyes were in the back of his head, lying limply.

“Frank? Frank!” She yelled, still keeping pressure on the wound.

Though it was futile.

“Frank.” She whispered, lying him down on the ground.

Tears pricked her eyes as she closed his, looking up at the ceiling briefly before her sadness became anger. Frank was a good man, a loving father figure to Connor, but someone preyed on him.

“Natasha…” You murmured, trying to get her attention.

She looked over her shoulder at Doyle, blood seeping into his shirt and zip-up hoodie. “Time to pull the legs off The Spider.” She seethed as she walked over, picked him up and held him two feet off the ground by her hand around his neck.

“Natasha, stop!” You yelled as Doyle choked.

“Why did you do this?”

“I don't know.”

“Why?”

“He was bringing too much heat!”

“Why?! WHY?!”

Doyle’s choking began to grow quiet, his hands weakly scratching at Natasha’s hand on his neck.

Natasha, stop. Father Frank wouldn't want this.” You said, your breath shaky as you saw the scorned woman.

“Stop.”

She yelled out in anguish and let Doyle drop to the floor, not caring for his safety as his legs crumpled beneath him and he gasped for air.

You quickly came to her, holstering your gun as ambulance and police arrived outside. “Natasha…”

Her whole body went still. Her eyes didn’t blink, and her chest barely moved.

You watched her retreat out of the church towards the crime techs, speaking her part of the scene before you did the same. After what seemed like half an hour, you watched Natasha leave the scene in her car, with one of her valets at the wheel.

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Resting at home with Steve on the couch beside you, you turned the TV off and sighed. Steve, I know I wanted to talk, but, um... my mind, it's just…”

“Somewhere else?” He murmured, looking at you with a small smile.

“Yeah.”

He sighed. “Yeah, mine, too.”

“Can we do this another time?” You asked, smiling softly.

“Yeah. No problem, Y/N.” He answered, gently kissing your forehead.

He agreed to stay at the house to watch Peggy whilst you drove to Lux. You had seen the emotion in Natasha’s face, how hard her heart had shattered when Frank died.

As you entered the club, you smiled at the security guards who knew you by memory now. You casually made your way to the elevator, dressed in your work clothes but jacket in hand. As it opened, you smiled gently as the keys to Knocking On Heaven’s Door played from the piano.

You watched her for a moment, listening to how she played. The liquor in her glass told you she’d been there either for a moment or for hours, since there was a bottle beside the glass.

You were tempted to hum along but instead put your jacket down and walked over to her, leaning over her shoulder to get her attention.

She immediately stopped playing and looked at you - with every ounce of attention she had.

“Hi.” You said softly, your hair hanging down like a beautiful waterfall for the redhead to admire.

She didn’t know what to say for a little while, but when you sat beside her on the piano chair she spoke. “Bit late for a new case, isn't it?”

You laughed quietly, shaking your head. “I'm not here for a case. I'm here for you.”

“Oh. Really?” She smirked, leaning slightly towards you as she tried to use her mojo.

“Yeah. Thought you could use a friend.” You murmured, gently brushing some hair out of her face with a focused expression before looking at her again.

She exhaled softly before clearing her throat. “Do you play?”

“Mm. No. No, I don't.” You replied with a light smirk.

“Come on, you must know something.” She insisted.

“No. Uh... All right, well... let me see. I had three years of lessons… and this is all I remember.” You said, beginning to play the melody to Heart and Soul.

Natasha laughed heartily. “Surely, you must be joking.”

You stopped, shaking your head at her with a cheeky grin before playing again. To Natasha, you had the funniest little expression of focus, your eyes carefully looking at the keys to remember.

“Alright, then.” She muttered, beginning to play the accompaniment to it.

Through the night, you sipped on her drink and she gladly refilled it when necessary. Fatigued and warm from both the alcohol and Natasha, she took you to her bed and let you rest in it for the night.

“Goodnight, malyshka.” She gently kissed your forehead, heading out to her balcony for a smoke.

She looked out onto the marvellous landscape of the city, lifting her lighter to the end of her cigarette but it would not light. In frustration, she threw the lighter off of the balcony, not caring who or what it hit when it landed.

She glared up at the sky. "You... you cruel, manipulative bastard! Was this all part of Your plan? It's all just a game to You, isn't it? Well, I know punishment, and he did not deserve this." She gestured to her sleeves and the bottom of her shirt, covered in blotches of Father Frank's blood.

"He followed Your stupid rules and it still wasn't fucking good enough! So what does it take to please You? Break Your rules and you fall! Follow them and you still lose?! Doesn't matter whether you're a sinner! Doesn't matter whether you're a saint! Nobody can win, so what's the point?!"

She leaned her elbows on the balcony railing, her head folding down into her chest. "What's the fucking point?"

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As midnight struck across town in a 24/7 diner, Malcolm sat with six plates of food around him and two empty milkshake glasses, another only half-full.

“Enjoying the life I gave you?” Yelena’s deep voice popped up from next to him, giving him a fright.

“Hey... did food taste this good before I died? ‘Cause I don't remember it being this friggin' delicious.” He chuckled, the angel beside him looking him straight in the eye.

“I don't care what you're doing with your new life, Malcolm... except for what I've asked of you. What's taking so long?” She questioned lightly, like she was his friend.

“Come on, come on, chill out, Yelenalady. Here, have some waffles.” He smirked, sliding over a plate of three waffles with strawberries and cream piled on top, though slightly melted.

After a flash of lightning outside, she was whispering right in his ear in a taunting voice. “Do you want to go back, Malcolm? Because I can make that happen.”

She watched the fear in his posture grow, his appetite slowing as he held a burger up to his mouth but didn’t bite it. “Yes… you're remembering it now, aren't you? I bet your 30 seconds in Hell felt like 30 years.”

Her voice became stern. “Imagine what eternity would feel like.”

“I'm sorry. Okay? Sorry. Look… I got it. An untraceable gun. It won't come back to me. I'm ready now.” He stammered out, showing a small pistol that had been removed from evidence, still in its bag.

“Good.” She smiled, patting his shoulder gently.

He cleared his throat. “So who do you want me to kill again?”

“Her name... is Natasha Romanoff.”

#smalls words #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasharomanoff angst #natasharomanoffxyn #natasharomanoff x reader #natasharomanoffimagine #natasharomanoff #devil of my word #domw au #devil!natasha romanoff #detective!reader

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cometcon · 6 months ago

Text

THE PRICE OF DUTY

- Chapter 1

Summary:

The expectations of a Royal can be stressful. Coranda Akroahm, Queen-In-Waiting of Akiridion-5, is no exception to this rule, and she wants to party. Luckily, her two closest friends know exactly where all the best spots are.

Coranda expects a fun night out. What she does not expect is for the presence of a mysterious club performer to change her life - and the future of the entire Akiridion System - forever.

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Notes:

This is rated M on A03 and will be raised to Explicit once I get to those chapters. 18 AND OVER ONLY PLEASE.

So I've been getting back into 3Below again lately, especially with Vexando as a ship. I've been writing that one for a bit and finally finished it today and decided I wanted to share it on here too, but thought I'd share this one first because it has a lot of the worldbuilding explanations in the notes and delves a little more into my playing around with the world than The Price of Honour does.

When writing this, I was exploring taylon cultural things and playing around with a lot of stuff. One of the things I explore in this is culturally using their names the way we use multi-pronouns for people or fictional characters with multi-pronouns. They're changed up as you go with the understanding (hopefully) that it is the same person based on context. So if you meet Veyla Varda, then see her called Veyla one moment and Varda the next, hopefully it's clear from the fact she introduced herself as Veyla Varda that they're both the same person and Coranda is just used to respecting the name culture I'm playing around with. (That is also an undercover name so that will change in the next chapter to her actual name. Sorry lol. Just remember context is your best friend and hopefully that'll help keeping up with this thing.)

Also keep in mind critical consumption as always, and that Coranda is 100% intended to be the villain of this story.

More explained in the end notes but the short version is:

Expect a lot of things presented in here that have nothing to do with the show and everything to do with me going "hmm, I see your under-developed/scrapped concept ideas the corporate people at Netflix wouldn't let you go into, and raise you actually spending time having fun with your outer space society concept and removing the sanitization required for a PG-aged audience because I'm not writing for a kids show."

Basically, if it's casually stated but you've never seen it in the show, figure it out from the context or expect that it will be explained/covered further at some point if I continue. This is very much an experimental piece for the funsies, and because my brain wouldn't leave me alone about it, an actual chapter exists now with plans for subsequent chapters in the works. :D

Longer notes at the end if you're interested in more writer waffle about why this thing came to be and more detail about wtf is going on in my head. XD

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Rise and fall, spin and sway. The taylon's stunning form held Coranda in a trance as she watched her move gracefully to the rhythm pulsing through the room. Time had lost all meaning around the eighth glass and she was beginning to regret listening to her friends' encouragement.

Where were they?

She had half a mind to peer around for them, but that would require tearing her eyes off the dancer, which most certainly wouldn't do. Not when it seemed she might be approaching, the space between them growing ever shorter as a mekron passed. Then another. And another.

Coranda wished she would hurry up already, wondering if it would risk her own cover too much to ask for a name, once she came close enough. Did people even do that in places like this, or was everyone supposed to remain anonymous? Her hidden pair of arms twitched restlessly in their bindings, wishing to reach out and touch, though she knew that would instantly bring the whole night to a frustrating conclusion.

The three akiron had snuck out on Vasilica's suggestion to take part in the nightlife on Akiridion-8's most far flung lunar settlements. The excitement and risk of being caught mingling with the common masses was giddying, and they weren't the only ones seeking such forbidden revelry. Nobles from all branches of major and minor houses alike ventured into these areas for a bit of merrymaking whenever it suited them. Any who recognised one usually knew better than to cause genuine trouble, though the danger of being noticed by the wrong people was never completely absent. Others were all too eager in handing them back over to their families, in exchange for a tidy sum of crestons to keep their mouths shut.

Back and forth the dancer went, as though intentionally taunting Coranda, ever so slowly creeping toward her.

Just a little more. Please.

"Come on," she muttered before she could stop herself, then froze as four breathtaking eyes flickered down to meet hers. Oh no.

"Eager are we?"

A broad face with glowing stripes filled her vision for several sectons and part of Coranda instinctively tried to flinch away. Another wondered how it would feel to-

One massive hand encased her wrist - and half her forearm - halting the thought in its tracks. She hadn't meant to act on it. An apology bubbled up in her mind, but she was released before she could say it aloud. The taylon gave her a knowing smile, then called something to a server nearby. Coranda vaguely recognised the language, her tutor's lessons in other native Akridion tongues labouring through the mire of intoxication. 'No more' was in there somewhere, she was certain. The server's quick nod and aboutface practically confirmed it. Well that was rude. She was here to escape people making decisions on her behalf. How dare-

"So where are you coming from tonight?"

The platform lifted a fraction beneath her hand as the dancer stepped off, landing much more lightly than Coranda had expected from a being so large, she still towered over the Royal even on equal ground. Coranda wasn't sure how to answer, thoroughly distracted by the way her new companion looked leaning casually against the stage.

"What's your name?" she blurted, instantly hoping it had been drowned out by the environment. No such luck, of course; taylon audial slits could often pick up the smallest of things in the noisiest of soundscapes.

"Veyla Varda," she said with a laugh, "You?"

Her strong voice carried easily to Coranda, who awkwardly tried to copy the relaxed pose and immediately missed the edge she'd aimed to put her weight on.

"I'm Cor- ah!"

She was caught before she face-planted, though embarrassment warmed her cheeks all the same. Veyla's deceptively gentle grip made something equally warm creep through her lower region and she desperately prayed it wouldn't show.

"Cora, huh? You don't look like a Cora, though I suppose that's hardly my business. Are you here with company?"

"Friends, somewhere," Coranda mumbled, most of her attention a little pre-occupied with how the light struck Veyla's muscular chest. She wanted to trace the creases in that flimsy shirt, perhaps even take a fistful and hope Varda let herself be drawn down for-

"Maybe buy me a drink first, eh?"

A playful chuckle accompanied Coranda's fingers being patiently extracted from the fabric and placed back at her own side. Seklos and Gaylen, she'd done it again!

"Sorry," she managed this time, glaring at the offending appendage, "They keep doing that."

"Tell you what: I promise I won't hold it against them, providing they do something for me."

This was followed by an expectant tilt of her head and Coranda's knees almost buckled at the indescribably filthy implication, even as she mentally flopped in confusion. Veyla Varda had rejected her but was still flirting? Her mind tried and failed to decisively identify what it all meant together, giving up about three sectons in to simply nod instead. Things would be clarified soon enough and the longer she delayed, the more likely it was she'd be banished to the faceless crowd.

Varda's fingers enveloped her arm and drew her along, patrons parting before the Queen-in-waiting's enormous chaperone as she navigated toward the bar. Coranda could see glimpses of it through the bodies still ahead, though not much else. Her arm felt secure in the taylon's grasp and she took comfort from its reassuring presence. Her mind had just visited her with a tantalising image of that hand going far less appropriate places when they finally reached their destination.

A grizzled old voltarian pottered around behind the bar, pouring drinks and wiping up a particularly broad spill while scowling at the patron whose careless gesturing had caused the mess. Veyla caught his attention and spoke to him in the same language again, accepting the small vial he passed to her with an appreciative smile. Gaylen's Blade, how far did her lips spread? Coranda stared for over a mekron, before she realised those lips were moving in speech patterns she recognised better.

"Cora? You with me?"

"Ah, yes! Sorry! What were you saying?"

Two eyes rolled so quickly she almost missed it, while the other pair dropped to the bottle, Veyla popping the lid with a flick and holding it out to her charge. Coranda blinked stupidly, unsure what to make of the situation. Was it safe to accept drinks from random strangers if they were employees? She had been told not to accept from just anyone, but this seemed different somehow.

"Come on. You'll feel better. Here."

Veyla pressed the bottle into her hand and Coranda decided she didn't care, the barely concealed strength in that touch teasing her imagination until she haphazardly threw the drink back and chugged. The taste was… definitely like nothing she had ever imbibed before, and she made a vow on the spot never to repeat this mistake.

"I can see how you got lost so fast. Slow down there," Veyla laughed, raising a browridge when she noticed the bottle was nearly empty, "Alright then. Why don't you sit tight while we wait for it to kick in."

"Wait for what?" Coranda asked, surprised by how much easier her words were forming now.

"That. Heh, lightweight."

"What is this?" she asked as the room around her came into better focus.

"Rapid-Grade Detox Formula. Good to have in a pinch, in case someone has clearly overestimated their resilience. You probably should have gone slower with it though."

Coranda bristled, her steadily clearing head now capable of retrieving prior grudges.

"I'll thank you not to decide what I should or should not be doing," she thumped the decanter onto the bartop, not bothering to catch it as its sideways position lent it the ability to roll off the edge. Unfortunately, it didn't smash, though the konk as it hit the floor was satisfying enough. "I get plenty of that at-"

Her abdomen tensing sharply cut her off mid-rant and she groaned, clutching her waist.

"I think you'll want to be heading for the purge-room now. But far be it from me to tell you what to do."

Her self-appointed guardian was smirking and Coranda wanted nothing more than to punch her square in her unfairly solid jawline.

"Where?" she forced through gritted teeth, sliding off the stool and staggering toward the door the moment it was pointed out to her.

It opened automatically and she silently praised the foresight of whoever had taken pity on the desperate when choosing that function, allowing her to make a beeline straight for the nearest purging pool unhindered. The fourth wave of nausea relieved her of her stomach's contents, her sides beginning to ache from the involuntary contractions. A clear fluid flowed through the pool, washing it all away down a drain hole hidden beneath the edging. She dunked her two free hands into the stream, scooping up enough to splash her face before swishing a mouthful around and spitting it out.

Coranda didn't even notice anyone had followed her in, until a heavy warm touch she was quickly growing familiar with settled on her head. It took everything she had not to lean into it like an overly enthusiastic fugu-dog, reminding herself she was very annoyed right now and not remotely in the mood for-

Those huge fingers shifted her dangling hair over her neck, trailing briefly across the skin there and causing a delightful shiver and a soft sigh she immediately regretted. There was no way anyone looking directly at her could miss her darkening cheeks now. She wanted Veyla to do so much more, to take every thought away and make her forget what awaited upon her return tomorrow. She had arched upward without realising and was met with a deep rumble of amusement.

"Feeling better then? Good. Maybe next time you'll pace yourself and not wander off on your own."

Coranda groaned, her miffed tone somewhat dulled by a sudden wave of drowsiness.

"I didn't wander. I'm not a child, Varda, and for your information, I stayed exactly where we were supposed to be. They left."

"I see," Veyla's voice had grown colder and Coranda instinctively drew into herself. A moment later however, she relaxed again, soothed by the deliciously rhythmic movements of the hand on her neck and primary shoulder set as they were gently massaged. "Do these 'friends' have names? I could send someone to collect them."

"Oh no no, I wouldn't want to be a bother."

"To us or to them?" she thought she heard Varda mutter, but it was lost under the door sliding open and the muted sounds of the club suddenly increasing in volume.

"There you are! We could-oof!"

Patrizia stopped dead in her tracks and stumbled forward as someone ran into her.

"What in Gaylen's name- Move!" She was shoved aside, leaving Vasilica standing in her place. The taller akiron righted her own clothing with an aggravated expression, until she also noticed Coranda's unexpected companion and paused. "Who is this? Should I be calling Security?"

Coranda winced at the pompous tone, thanking her fortune she wasn't in any actual danger while simultaneously cursing her friend's idiocy. If the taylon were a real threat, she was well and truly close enough to snap Coranda's neck with a flick, and it would take even less effort to crush her core within the next secton.

"And how would I be assisting you today?" Veyla stood slowly, reminding Coranda again just how much bigger she was than the three Royals in the room as she reached her full imposing height. Patrizia gulped and edged a little closer to the exit. Vasilica's face had turned a delightfully paler shade of blue, tilting upward to follow Varda's rising eyes with increasing dismay. "Have you lost someone, perhaps?"

"It's fine. They're here now. I'll be alright." Coranda tried getting to her own feet as she spoke, only to find her legs refused to work. Her fall was arrested once more as Varda's hand whipped out to catch her arm, then gently lowered her to the ground. Seklos, she had extremely good reflexes, even by normal taylon standards.

"Sit down before you hurt yourself."

"What did you do to her?" Patrizia asked, the concern in her words almost sounding genuine. She hid herself behind her sister when Veyla gave them both a withering look, stepping toward the two and driving them ahead of her as they backed away.

"Let me make myself perfectly clear. We all need a break sometimes. But there are responsibilities we do not shirk, at any point, under any circumstances. One of those is not leaving a first timer alone in a loud enclosed space, completely incapacitated and barely aware of what's happening. Considering you've clearly been to places like this before, I'd have thought you'd know that."

The door sensor activated, allowing them an escape into the crowd if they wished. Yet Vasilica stopped, likely regaining confidence with a room full of witnesses at her disposal. "How dare you?" she said angrily, her voice even more shrill and grating than usual. Patrizia was tugging her arm, but she shook her off. "Do you have any idea who we are?"

"I do not," the taylon replied, and while Coranda could no longer see her expression, something about her air seemed to shift. A jovially challenging tone accompanied her next words as her head performed that delightful little tilt again, though in a considerably less friendly manner than earlier, and Coranda felt a flash of excitement imagining what having that directed at her might be like. "Would you care to enlighten me?"

Vasilica's mouth hung open, staring helplessly. Coranda couldn't recall a time she'd ever seen the bossy noble actually struck speechless. There was nothing to be said, unless they were ready to meet with an unpleasant end to their fun little jaunt.

She knows we're not supposed to be here. Don't take the bait, you fool. Walk away. Please.

Loud screaming and the shatter of multiple glass objects breaking at once cut through the moment, Vasilica falling to the floor as Veyla immediately barged past her toward the source. The patrons near the bar were scrambling to vacate the area, leaving Coranda a clear view of what they were fleeing from.

A large family of foo-foo, two voltarians, one kaygon and possibly a dozen or more gaalahni had stolen the attention of the entire club, poised in a threatening formation around the bar. On the other side, the old voltarion barkeep stood braced for further violence. Behind him, a particularly lanky akiron pushed himself away from the destruction his body had made, glass tinkling to the floor as he staggered upright, clothing drenched in a variety of imbibements.

Veyla Varda halted, clearly noticing the numerous blasters now trained on her companion, who calmly raised his hands. The newcomers hadn't spotted her yet, too focused on the target of their ire, but she couldn't just attack outright without putting her friend at risk. To Coranda's surprise, the dancer suddenly pressed a finger to her temple, activating an ionic earpiece and speaking in a disapproving murmur.

“Mernos. We talked about this.”

“You disappeared. And Ceylen insulted my hredni mix. The young these days have no respect for their elders. He was practically begging for a toss,” the barkeep replied to the air, tail waving lazily at his dripping victim, who drew his own gun with a look of barely contained fury.

“You crazy- All you needed to do… the one thing he asked from you…” the akiron caught himself and inhaled slowly, releasing it on a mirthless chuckle, his blaster making an ominous whine as he clicked its settings to fatal, “‘Accept the payment and get out.’ That was it. One simple little task, and you could've been gone, free to roam and richer than some lower Houses! Everyone else knew what was good for them. But the soolian here? Noooo. He just had to be difficult.”

Coranda had been glancing at the dancing platform throughout the altercation, a glimmer of a definitely terrible, but potentially necessary idea forming in her mind. Veyla and Mernos were both unarmed, out-numbered and outgunned. The odds now were surely far worse than any half-baked plan to tip them could be. She made up her mind and began creeping toward her goal the moment she heard Ceylen’s blaster escalate its intent, screaming at herself the entire way, yet determined to see it through. They may be mere acquaintances, but they’d taken care of a complete stranger in her time of need. It was only right to return the favour.

“The Councillor has no say here and your behaviour is disrupting the peace. Do yourself a favour and lower those weapons. Now. I will not warn you again.”

Varda's carefully even tone and more than significant body mass stepping forward would have made a sharper group think twice about their next decision. Unfortunately, this did not appear to be an altogether bright collection of individuals. They turned to regard her, their initial fearful reaction quickly replaced by a ripple of laughter once they realised she was alone.

Meanwhile, Coranda had managed to use a nearby chair to reach the dance platform, hauling herself up and creeping to the end nearest the bar. The height was a little dizzying and she planted her feet to steady herself, shakily reaching around to begin unclipping the bindings hiding her true identity.

“And who might you be? The floor sweep?” Ceylen snorted, his blaster’s muzzle dropping as his focus switched from Mernos to Veyla.

“Something like that.” The joviality from earlier had entered her voice again, this time with a much deadlier edge, and Coranda couldn't help the thrill it sent through her upon hearing it. Varda took another slow step, then another, every eye riveted on her gradual approach, her stripes seeming to pulse brighter in the dim lighting. “Though it looks like you've done most of my work for me. All the space trash neatly gathered in one corner.”

Ceylen squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head as though to clear it, natural akiron resistance breaking Veyla's hypnotic hold far more quickly than his less fortunate followers, his blaster raising to point at her head.

Time for a new distraction.

"By order of the Fifth Akiridion Throne," Coranda called as she wrenched the final clip away, tossing her bindings to the side and finally allowing her secondary arms to stretch happily into their newfound freedom, "Drop your weapons and kneel!"

It had the desired effect, every eye in the room turning to look straight at the Royal in full view on stage, Veyla’s exasperated mutter the only sound cutting through the stunned silence.

"Oh you have got to be kidding me."

Laughter broke out among the gang and the kaygon started toward Coranda, the leer on his face as he spoke making her hand itch for a weapon of her own.

“Looks like our payment’s about to get a whole lot fatter. Why don't you come down here so we can get acquainted, princ-!”

Veyla moved, her form a blur as she launched the kaygon horizontally, kindly acquainting him with the solid base of the dance platform instead. The goon closest to him found himself locked to her front as a gaalahnian shield before anyone else could react, Varda sending another flying into a nearby table with a kick when he hesitated to shoot. The rest opened fire on her, forcing her to take cover behind the overturned table and the unfortunate gaalahni. Mernos took advantage of their surprise to repeat his earlier action, seizing Ceylen and hurling him back over the bartop. Then he bent to retrieve something from beneath the counter, throwing two objects to his ally.

"Zi- Veyla!"

She prioritised the catching of one, allowing the other to clatter to the ground beside her. The next secton, Coranda understood why, as Veyla Varda slapped the item in her hand to her chest and activated an armour module. Its articulated flexi-plate enveloped her massive form, swiftly rendering both the table and dead gaalahni unnecessary. She let him slip from her grasp, ignoring the petering blasts absorbed by her new plating as she picked up the serrator from the floor and faced her surprised opponents.

Coranda couldn't believe her eyes. Apparently she wasn't the only one here under false pretences.

A fully armoured officer of the Talyon Phalanx stood before them, rolling her powerful shoulders and neck in readiness to dish out their inevitable demise. There was no question now who possessed the upper hand as terrifying reality began to dawn on the gang members.

"Those of you who wish to leave in one piece, kindly exit in an orderly fashion. Anyone who craves death…" Veyla grinned and manifested a broad-sabre, its ionic edge humming a deadly drone beneath her words, "Feel free to linger. I've been suffering the lack of a good dance partner."

The extra-curious patrons still observing regained their senses then, fleeing in a decidedly less than orderly fashion and stumbling over each other in their bid to escape. Coranda looked around for her companions, spotting them still huddled against the wall where she'd left them. She slipped down off the platform again, gesturing to them from the shadows to follow her. If they could move fast enough, they might be able to-

Patrizia shook her head, face contorted with fear. She wasn't moving any time soon. Vasilica was in no better shape, clutching tight to her sister, wide eyes staring at the stand-off barely a stone's throw away.

Kleb!

She glanced back at the unfolding scene behind her. Would it escalate into a full on battle? One stray blaster beam could spell the end for any of them. Luckily, the group of extortionists didn't seem all that eager to take a trained soldier up on her challenge, self-preservation finally making an appearance.

Albeit far too late.

“It's one guard and an ancient lizard! Just kill them!” Ceylen barked, firing on Mernos and forcing the voltarion to create a shield with his own serrator.

Chaos descended quickly, Varda trusting her friend to take care of himself while she charged the thugs. They parted before her, some barely avoiding her swings, others who weren't so lucky shredded to flexel and staining the club grounds with a gory rainbow of diverse innards. Those who survived her opening attack spread out, desperately trying to stay clear of her range and develop a strategy against her on the fly. The voltarion pair ignored the panicked yells of their team, launching a series of ruthless electrical attacks, then phasing out and retreating into the energy grids before she could counter. Veyla stumbled and slowed, emboldening the rest to try a united assault, half-burying her under a writhing pile-on of foo-foo and the remaining few gaalahni. The voltarions reformed and raced to join in, but Mernos zapped himself between them and the struggling taylon, wrapping his tail around the neck of one and seizing the other in a headlock. All three vanished, leaving Veyla to finish the fight alone.

Without the damage the voltarions had provided, that proved a lot easier. Caught mid-reckless attack at close range and faltering, her assailants had even less leeway than before to elude her. Many more fell to her vicious blows as she bucked them off and struck, crushing and slicing her way to freedom and an ever nearing victory.

A handful of the wilier foo-foo had hung back, noticing Patrizia and Vasilica and breaking off from the main pack to bound toward them with desperation in their eyes. Coranda dove for the nearest corpse, snatching up a weapon. Unwilling to risk hitting her friends, she fired at the ground ahead of the threat to get their attention. It worked a little too well, reminding them of her higher hostage value the moment they saw her. She had just started for the door in the hope of drawing them away enough to aim properly, when an enormous mass of gleaming phalanx armour cut off her view of the oncoming foo-foo, scattering them as they abruptly changed direction. The one foolish enough to try again for their initial plan was swiftly decapitated, while the rest leapt for the stage to gain the high ground.

"Get down before you get hurt, your highness," Veyla snarled, snatching Coranda by the wrist to haul her swiftly across the space and smack into Patrizia, the taylon warrior using her body and serrator both to shield the three akiron nobles in the nick of time as the foo-foo turned their weapons on them. Her glowing face offset the blinding light of the beams pelting ionic barrier and exposed form alike, double sets of eyes glaring directly at Coranda while she steeled herself against the onslaught with a grimace. Armour or no, those blasters were nothing to scoff at and the Queen-In-Waiting felt a twinge of sympathy for each grunt punched from Veyla's throat.

It seemed like an eternity went by before the blasterfire abruptly ended, a powerful electric current frying the foo-foos where they stood as Mernos returned in a flash of crackling energy. Their blackened corpses slumped around him and he dropped gracefully to the floor without so much as another glance toward his handiwork. He seemed more concerned about Varda's, scowling at the gore coating nearly every surface of his club.

"What a mess."

“Apologies. In future I'll do my best to massacre your enemies with more focus on preserving the upholstery,” she retorted, though there was a distinct note of genuine humour underpinning her tone. Rising from her protective position, she deactivated her serrator, magnetising the circular hilt and releasing it to rest in its proper position on her hip.

Mernos let out a dry chuckle, stretching his neck and shaking off some extra sparks as he approached a long groaning lump sprawled in front of the bar. Ceylen struggled weakly, the sudden firm grip on his collar allowing him no room for escape. Mernos hauled him into a sitting position, examining the burns over the akiron's arms and chest with a cold expression.

“Someone really should teach these pests not to bring a blaster to a lightning-fight.”

“You left him alive? Generous of you,” Veyla commented, detatching a set of cuffs from her other side and tossing them to the barkeep. "Watch him. I'll be back to clean things up. I have an unexpected wrinkle to deal with first."

Coranda did her best to glare at Veyla when she returned to them, having noticed her secondary shoulderblade was aching from how roughly the guard had manoeuvred her.

"I do not appreciate being dragged around."

"I don't appreciate Royals interfering with my job,” Varda snapped, the disdain and authority colouring her words surprising Coranda into subdued silence. There was no trace left of the exasperated but kind employee who’d been caring for her not fifteen mekrons earlier. “Who brought you here? Call them."

"He's already coming. I pinged him when that awful gang showed up." Patrizia sounded thoroughly rattled and Coranda could hardly blame her.

"Whatever for? It's fine now! I need a drink." Vasilica, on the other hand, seemed ready to pretend nothing had happened. She made toward an intact table, ignoring the morbid tableau surrounding them, but stopped as a huge armoured limb barred her way.

"With all due respect, my lady, you are fully aware it's illegal for this establishment to knowingly host people of your status."

"Your families would have our heads, and I've had enough excitement for one night," Mernos chimed in, grabbing a surviving bottle of something bright purple and pouring himself a glass.

"I strongly suggest you return to whichever palace you reside in. I will escort you to your vehicle," Veyla said firmly, and began herding them toward the door, giving them no room to argue or try to move past her.

Vasilica put on her best outraged face but did as she was told, Patrizia following with her arms folded around her and shoulders hunched. Coranda silently walked ahead of them, scanning the docking bay for their driver. He was just pulling in when they arrived and looked highly concerned, rushing to open the doors and usher them inside. He bowed to the nobles, then dipped his head to their unsolicited protector. She gave a curt nod and turned, leaving without another word or a single glance back at them as they departed.

“I cannot believe the nerve of those waitstaff!” Vasilica started mere sectons after the door was closed on them, “First they try to cut us off, then that taylon dragged you into a purge room to do who knows what to you! We should report them. Have them shut down and exiled, servers decommissioned, the whole procedure! I'll need your statements of course and-”

Patrizia just put her slitbuds in and curled up under her travel blanket, pulling the edge over her head. The glow of her sound-ball generated a soft light to banish a little of the darkness, though its reflection against Coranda’s window was too weak to challenge the star clusters outside their pod. She tuned out both the orb and the rest of Vasilica’s whining prattle, a single thought sticking in her mind.

‘Who knew what’ indeed? What incredible delights might she have experienced, had they not been so rudely interrupted? Had she not been required to reveal the truth. Would Veyla have reacted the same way once the binding came off while undressing her, without the presence of danger? Perhaps those hands would have stroked further down her back, hopefully pausing only long enough to recognize she was touching royalty, before deciding to take her chances regardless and venture lower…

The lunar settlements of Akiridion-8 dropped quickly away in their wake, leaving only the vast reaches of space, and the yearning ache filled by her increasingly depraved fantasies.

---------------------------

So I was writing a Vexando fic because my brain was going brrrrrrrr on them, and I wanted to flesh out and play around more with the Taylon and two-armed/four-armed Akiridions (which I gave the separate species name 'akiron' for) as two different but similar species, because why not? Which led to thinking about reproductive processes for them to understand smutt options better.

Then I remembered the Steve-preg situation in that awful Rise of the Titans movie hinted at Akiridions being like seahorses which, on its own has some cool potential, but I decided to do away with the kiss thing and human m-preg (human m-preg people are valid there are just perfectly good unexplored alien species right there in this universe and I'd rather do it with them) and play around with alien reproduction systems more.

And that also led to an interest in trying out writing a matriarchal society and how that might look and be experienced by and effect the interactions of the characters.

Which led to my best friends asking me "ok but how would two female akiridions do things together/how would you write that?" which of course required actual characters to pair together. So we had a light-hearted, mostly joking (at first) chat about Coranda in her stupid college-age-equivalent years sneaking out to a bar, getting drunk and hitting on a dancer there.

"Ok so who is the dancer?"

"Ooh you know what? Fuck it. Let's grab that random female taylon OC from my Vexando wip and make her also a dancer in a club."

"Ok, why is she there? Does she just enjoy dancing? Does she need it as a night job?"

"Ooh how about she's under cover doing a personal favour for the bar owner who has had a local gang harassing him for money" and then because I've watched a lot of shows with corporate bullshittery redevelopment projects as plot points on Netflix recently, that turned into "rich powerful bastard wants to own the moon these clubs are on/monopolize them himself so he's paying people off to get them to leave, but the OC's friend is an old stubborn voltarion who refuses to sell his club" etc etc and then my brain gave me words for an actual start to the opening scene and uh...

Now I'm writing a story about Queen Coranda and her bodyguard back in her earlier years when things were easy and she didn't have an entire planetry system under her leadership to fuck up. XD

I was also curious about how they had two houses of Akiridion warring and then coming together to form the Royals from the show. Also it's called Akiridion-5, hinting at other planets also part of a wider Akiridion empire type thing and the concept of four-armed Royal Akiridions seemed like something to be fleshed out more so I thought "ok why not have multiple major and minor Houses, not just Ventis and Akraohm" and "what if there were minor Houses marrying into major Houses and different families greasing up to more powerful ones seeking political marriages and deals etc etc."

You get the point. Basically it rabbit-holed really fast like all these things do when my brain latches onto them. XD

I do intend to address things associated with more serious themes properly in the narrative, so feel free to talk to me if I do a tone-deaf while trying to do a subversion or other explorations of things by the way.

#3below #coranda 3below #coranda #original characters #coranda/oc #tales of arcadia #alcohol #violence #gun violence #matriarchal society #coranda is a thirsty bitch lol #i cant blame her when i like the big strong sexy alien lady too #i like em big i like em blue #XD #writing #my writing #fanfic #3below fanfic

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iluvblondeboys · 3 years ago

Note

can you do something about pete being asked about the reader in an interview (if you write for pete)

Pete Davidson X Reader

Summary: Pete Davidson gets asked about (Y/N) on live TV

Vibe: Fluff w/ mentions of sex but no actual sex

Word Count: 721

Note: N/A

"Please welcome comedian and actor, Pete Davidson!" Jimmy Fallon announced standing up out of his seat, the crowd cheered and clapped as Pete walked out from backstage with a goofy smile on his face.

After giving Jimmy a brief hug he waved to the crowd as he made his way over to the chair next to Jimmy's desk.

"Thank you for being here, we appreciate you coming on again." Jimmy said as the crowds cheering settled down and he sat back down in his own seat.

"Thanks for having me!" Pete replied. "So let's just get right into this" Jimmy said smirking as he turned to Pete, the crowd, knowing exactly what Jimmy was going to ask about, started cheering once again.

"So your good friend Machine Gun Kelly posted a video to his Instagram story yesterday and caught in the background was you and (Y/N) sharing a kiss..." Jimmy started.

"Oh my god Colson" Pete sighed, shaking his head. Pete had no clue his best friend had posted on Instagram that night, it was supposed to be a small get together between Pete, (Y/N), Colson, and Megan.

They had all decided on a little double date movie night at Colson and Megan's house to celebrate Pete and (Y/N) officially starting their relationship. Colson just happened to catch them at a bad time, they had shared a small kiss when Pete just got back to the couch after getting a snack, and of course Colson decided to take the video then.

"We actually have the video right here." Jimmy said, pointing to the screen behind Pete. Pete turned his head to watch the video along with the rest of the audience.

The video displayed a view of the entire living room, showing the large TV screen that was playing the newest 'Spiderman' movie, the coffee table that was covered with snacks and drinks, and then finally, the couch. Mistakenly, the camera caught Pete pressing a kiss to (Y/N)'s lips.

The crowd began cheering once again as a rosy color spread across Pete's cheeks as he tried to mask the smile that was fighting to takeover his face.

"So tell us, Pete, what's going on between you and (Y/N)." Jimmy asked.

"I mean, fuck, I guess I can't deny it since everyone just saw it. Me and (Y/N) have been dating for a couple weeks now." Pete laughed as he talked.

"And how's that going?" Jimmy asked, irking for more information.

"It's going good. (Y/N) is awesome and she matches my personality so well. Is that what you people want to hear?" Pete said, he was trying not to seem too sentimental and soft but it was hard when it was talking about someone he loves so much.

"So how did you two meet?" Jimmy asked, knowing exactly what everyone watching wanted to know.

"We actually met through Colson. He's been with friends with her for years, and coincidentally I've had a crush on her for years." Pete said laughing at himself before continuing, "He invited us both to his album release dinner and of course, he made sure we were assigned to sit next to eachother and we pretty much hit it off right away." Pete said, trying not to give away too many details, but Jimmy wasn't gonna let him off easy.

"When you say you hit it off right away, what do you mean by that?" Jimmy asked.

"You're on your A-game today, huh Jimmy?" Pete said and Jimmy just chuckled, wanting Pete to answer the question.

"She's gonna kill me for telling this story, but I'm gonna do it anyway. So we obviously started talking because we were sitting right next to each other, and let's just say we both get the same way when we're drunk... a little... frisky if you will. And yeah, you all know how the rest goes." Pete said laughing at the story, it was an odd meeting story, but he was a man of the people.

"Wow, okay Pete, thank you for that." Jimmy said, sounding surprised that that's how they met.

"You're so welcome Jimmy!" Pete started, looking at Jimmy, "And (Y/N), I'm sorry for telling that story, I love you, don't kill me." Pete said, cheesily smiling at the camera.

#pete davidson #pete davidson imagine #smut #request

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carnalpleasure · 4 years ago

Text

Sleepy Bunny

Just a lil self indulgent Jim x Reader I've been working on💕 I was originally writing this with Michael, but after rewatching TTOPV last night, I haven't been able to get Jim out of my mind. And I think this story works so much better with him anyway. Based on personal experience. TW.

Summary: Reader wakes up in the hospital recovering from a suicide attempt where she meets Jim, who's recovering from the overdose that was supposed to kill him.

Warnings: suicide mention, drug mention, hospitalization, 51/50, needles

You know that feeling when you wake up from a nap, and you’re more tired than when you went to sleep? That was how you felt waking up this morning.

You slowly pried your eyes open and peered around the room. You weren’t completely sure, but the whole layout seemed different.

The lamp was to the left before. There wasn’t a window there. Wasn’t the door on the other side of the room?

Your eyes were still struggling to focus when one of the nurses walked in. “Look who finally woke up,” she said flatly. She was carrying two trays of food. It smelled like burgers and fries... the smell of food made your stomach turn.

She handed one tray to the boy in the bed beside you with a gentle, “there ya go, honey.” You rolled over and pulled the blanket up, hoping to avoid the nurse altogether and go back to sleep. You closed your eyes tight and prayed she’d go away as her soft soled footsteps on the linoleum floor crept closer.

“You have to eat now. You haven’t eaten in days,” the nurse scolded you from behind. She didn’t sound concerned or compassionate, she just sounded cranky and cruel. Why is she so mad at me?

You turned back to look at the nurse over your shoulder, glaring right back at her. “I just ate last night. Leave me alone,” you replied weakly before turning away from both of them again.

“That wasn’t yesterday,” she huffed. “You slept through yesterday. You’ve been asleep since Friday night.” You quickly sat up in shock and turned around to look back at her. You searched your mind, looking for any detail you could remember from the vague memories you had lying around.

“You have to eat or they won’t take you,” the nurse’s bitchy voice interrupted and threw your whole train of thought off course.

You looked confused. “Who-?“ you started, but she cut you off again. “Eat. I’ll be back in 30 minutes for the trays,” she snapped. Then she turned to exit the room, but not before giving one last genuine smile to the boy in the next bed.

You pushed the tray away and sat up in bed, pulling your knees to your chest and balling up. There was an awkward silence in the room now. You were too ashamed to look at the other patient.

You didn’t know why he was here, but it couldn’t be more embarrassing than purposely overdosing on your own medication. But his soft, smooth voice broke the silence.

“Their food sucks. Makes me wanna gag too,” he said jokingly. It was meant to help ease your nerves but your embarrassment was growing too fast. Oh my god, do I look nauseous? I feel sick. Be cool, bitch. Be cool.

You peaked your head up to look at him and you were met with the sweetest, most sincere smile you’d ever seen. It lit up the room. Yet the moment you first laid eyes on his face, all you could think was, if there is a god, he fucking hates me.

The only thing that could possibly be worse than waking up in a random hospital bed looking like shit?.. That’s right. Waking up in the bed right next to the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen, while looking like shit.

“What day is it?” was all you could think to say back. A yawn escaped your lips. You rubbed your eyes and wiped away the dried mascara. Everything felt foggy. Your thoughts, your vision, your memory. But you could see his face glowing bright as day.

He sat up in his bed and turned to face you, crossing his legs and pulling the sheet over his lap. “It’s Sunday. So you’ve been asleep for..” he glanced up at the clock on the wall and then back at you, “..about 34 hours? You opened your eyes a couple times but.. you were pretty out of it.”

You couldn’t wrap your head around it. It’s a strange feeling losing an entire day of your life just like that. But it feels even stranger when it finally starts coming back to you.

“Motherfuckers..” you cursed under your breath as the memories played back in your head like a reel of film. A single tear formed in the corner of your eye and then strolled leisurely down your cheek.

You saw it as if you were hovering over your body, watching from above as two nurses held you down by your arms. You were lying flat on your stomach with your shorts pulled down while each of the nurses stuck a needle in your ass to sedate you because you wouldn’t stop crying. They said they needed to calm you down, not knock you out cold..

The boy in the matching gown stayed silent, giving you time to process. Unlike the nurses, his face did seem full of concern and compassion. He looked at you the way you looked at lost puppies on the street. Like he wanted to rescue you.. or at least give you a big hug and hold you for a while.

“This isn’t the same room,” you said, unsure of whether you were talking to him or to yourself. But he answered anyway. “No, you were across the hall when you first came in,” he nodded towards the doorway. He could see how out of it you still were and he wanted to protect you so bad.

“You put up quite a fight,” he gave a short laugh and you thought he was just teasing until flashbacks of you cussing out the hospital staff and shoving the security guard off you started to resurface.

You threw your hands over your face to hide the humiliation and fell backwards on the bed. You wanted to hide from him and everyone else. But he just sat patiently, studying your every reaction.

He’d spent the last couple days watching you sleep, wondering what you were like on a normal day outside of here, what made you laugh, what kind of music you were into.. everything about you was a mystery to him. But like the sad kinds of mysteries that go forever unsolved. That have people mourning and reminiscing still a hundred years later. She seemed like she wanted to take all her secrets with her to the grave.

More than anything, he wondered what could’ve happened to this girl to make her dread being alive so much. It was tragic to think about. But it actually took his mind off his own problems, and for that he was grateful.

Thinking about her distracted him from all of his dad’s bullshit stories, and his mom’s constant compulsive drama, and his sister’s quiet sadness that never seemed to go away. It distracted him from his constant urge to get high. For as long as he’d been around her, that longing to escape was replaced with a longing to be loved.

“I’m glad you’re awake now,” his soft, syrupy voice spoke up and pulled you from your thoughts into a warm embrace. He paused for a moment and you heard him digging around in the drawer on the other side of his bed. Then he sat back on the edge of his bed criss cross. “Now I have someone to play cards with,” he announced cheerfully.

You pulled your hands off your face and looked over at him. You couldn’t help but break into laughter at the sight of him holding up his deck of cards and smiling at you like a little kid who just made a new friend on the playground. Something about him was so innocent and gentle. The way he looked at you like a boy with a schoolyard crush made your heart melt.

“I only know how to play Go Fish,” you admitted shyly. His smile seemed to brighten after you said that, his excitement growing evident on his face. “That’s my favorite game,” he said with a wink as he slid the cards out of the box and began shuffling. They had pictures of pin-up girls in bikinis on the back.

You turned to face him and crossed your legs too, mirroring his position on the bed. The two of you took turns calling out numbers and passing cards back and forth. You were shy at first but the tension quickly melted away. His calm demeanor relaxed you beyond what you thought was capable.

Every once in a while you’d catch him peeking over his cards at you, stealing glimpses of your face when he thought you were too busy looking at your cards to notice.

Each time he’d quickly avert his gaze, hiding behind his cards until his cheeks stopped burning red.

And each time, it made you feel like a kid with an innocent crush again. Back when you thought true love was just holding hands with someone at nap time.

About halfway into the game, you finally got up the courage to ask the question that’d been floating around in the front of your mind. It hurt your heart to think about, but that’s why you had to know. Your mind would just keep coming up with sick scenarios to taunt you with unless you found out for yourself.

“Why are you in here?” you asked nervously, searching his face for his first reaction.

His eyes looked up to meet yours and he sighed. He looked like he’d been waiting for this question. “Overdosed on my mom’s percs,” he said with a soft laugh and a side smile. He tried to shrug it off like it was nothing serious. Like it didn’t scare him.

You recognized it right away. He was downplaying it so you wouldn’t feel sorry for him. He was used to hiding his pain and pretending his problems didn’t matter because he had other people’s problems to take care of. He didn’t want to burden you.

“On accident?” you asked gently. It was hard for him to talk about, but he could see how much you cared by the look in your eyes. He nodded.

The serene smile that graced his face had slowly faded away. His eyes avoided yours and a look of shame seemed to take over. “Yeah. Stupid, I know,” he forced a fake laugh, trying again to play it down.

“I felt so good, I just kept taking more. I just wanted to feel..better.” His voice was low and quiet, just barely above a whisper. He spoke as if he didn’t even want to hear what he had to say.

You wanted to say something to cheer him up, or to at least alleviate some of his shame. But the bitchy nurse from before came barging back in through the door. She was back to collect the trays and to her dismay they were both still untouched.

“James?” she scoffed, picking up the first full plate of food and looking at him disapprovingly.

“What.. now you’re not eating either?” she scowled. He clenched his jaw to keep from saying anything and kept his eyes straight ahead, focused on you.

She came for your plate next but she didn’t take it away. Instead she shoved it towards you again and waved a stern finger at you. “You, Y/N, you still need to eat. If you won’t eat, they won’t take you anywhere. And I don’t have room to keep you here.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” you finally snapped back impatiently. You groaned and put down your cards, side eyeing her. You didn’t give a fuck about what she had to say. She’d been nothing but rude to you ever since you were brought to the emergency room and placed in her care.

She sighed dramatically in exasperation, wanting you to know just how irritated she was before answering. “You’re only here on a 72 hour hold. Then you’re being transferred to a mental health facility for a psychiatric evaluation. I explained all of this to you when you blah blah blah blah-“

You tuned her out and quickly turned your attention back to the cards in your hands. Your eyes carefully studied the bikini girl laminated on the back, desperately trying to distract yourself from everything. You couldn’t let yourself break down again. You couldn’t let them see you panic. You didn’t want another shot.

You had been so wrapped up in your little card game with the sweet stranger, you’d almost forgotten where you were and why. Once again, reality came crashing down on you.

You could feel his eyes on you, but you were too sad to look back at him. You waited until she was gone before finally letting yourself look at him. You could see the worry eating away at him already.

He looked as scared as you felt. At first you thought he was just feeling sorry for you, but it didn’t look like pity. It was more genuine that that. You didn’t want to admit it, but he looked heartbroken to see you go.

It was your turn to break the ice now. “So.. it’s James?” you asked, smiling as his name rolled off your tongue for the first time.

The way you said it made him look up at you like he was seeing God in your eyes. He was captivated by you. His sleeping beauty from the psych ward.

He slowly nodded, still mesmerized. “Yeah well.. I go by Jim” he added nervously. That charming smile returned as he ran his fingers through his wavy brunette hair before letting it fall back in his face.

You stared at him as intently as you could, wanting to savor every last moment you had together. You studied his features like you were cramming for a test, trying desperately to commit the beautiful boy to memory before time ran out.

The freckle on the left side of his face, his baby blue hooded eyes, his pink pillowy lips, the way he ran his hands through his dark tousled waves. You wanted to remember all of it.

You’d only known him a few hours but you already knew in your heart you were going to miss this boy forever.

💕taglist: (lemme know if u wanna be taken off<3) @sexwon131 @jimmason @whatcodysaid @theneverendinghunger @angelicmichael @thewarriorprincessxo

#jim mason #jim mason x reader #the tribes of palos verdes #jim mason fic #jim mason x you #jim mason imagine #jim x reader

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charliedayofficial · 8 years ago

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do you have any fics that are JH and after s8 where they like get back together?

Hi, anon! Sorry for taking so long to respond but I’ve been scouring all of my previously read fics and the ones in my TBR folder to see what I can recommend to you. While I haven’t read all of these, I've skimmed them all enough to the point where they’re written in a style I like(I’m not big on script format or first person fics). Anyway, here is what I was able to dig up for you!

Nowhere But Lost by Zenkindoflove

Author Summary: Hyde is cynical, depressed, alone, and would really like to keep it that way. But what happens when something inside of him resurfaces and is more than unhappy about his current living arrangements? JH, ED COMPLETE!

My Thoughts: This is seriously one of my all-time favorites. Characterization is great, the plot is great, JH is so fucking cute, and there isn’t much to complain about when it comes to the writing. While this plot isn’t THAT unique, it really doesn’t matter. PLEASE READ!

Outside Looking In by rebeldivaluv

Author Summary: Interconnected vignettes telling key moments in Jackie and Hyde’s relationship, as viewed by the people who know them best.

My Thoughts: Out of all the fics I’ve read, this seriously might be my absolute favorite. The characterization is really spot on, the characters are funny, the writing/story is amazing, and I get everything I want to see with JH. This one is pretty fluffy, which I can’t complain about. I’m really impressed that the author was able to craft a fluffy fic where JH have to get back together, but there’s no angst that makes your heart hurt. I really enjoy reading from other characters perspectives and how they see JH interact in different situations. Cannot recommend enough!

Steven Who? by kezztip

Author Summary: Set just after Misfire Season 8 – Jackie’s world tumbles in on her when she realizes it is really over for her and Hyde and seeks to escape how awful her reality has become. The method of that escape is pure Jackie

My Thoughts: A perfect mix of angsty, funny, and sweet. kezztip is the queen of writing season 8 fics

Come Clarity by Zenkindoflove

Author Summary: Twenty years is a long time to stay gone…

My Thoughts: I personally find this to be the most accurate post season 8 fic where more than 3 years have passed. I’ve never found it believable in other post-season 8 fics where Hyde has a significant other that isn’t Jackie. Jackie changed the game for him so I don’t see him able to fully/truly commit to someone else. This fic is beautiful, cute, funny, and JH is in their purest form. I also enjoy that the author didn’t have the story focus on them talking through their issues from their last breakup, it was more so on reconciliation and finding each other. I wouldn’t say this fic is fluff, but I also wouldn’t say that it’s angsty. Please read it though lol

20 Questions by ShanghaiLily

Author Summary: Just after New Year’s day in 1980, Jackie Burkhart decides to disappear from the basement to save her sanity. When Xmas rolls around and the Formans beg Jackie to attend their party, she ends up involved in an elaborate game of 20 Questions with Hyde that could change both of their lives. T-rated w/ some M chapters. Story is COMPLETE! This one is for the Zennies who hate Season 8!

My Thoughts: This story is really enjoyable, but not perfect. This author tends to be really hit or miss with the characterization of the characters so it can be slightly irritating. Even though how JH and their relationship is described can be frustrating, the story is good enough to look past it. This story just has a really creative way of getting JH back together

The Morning After by ShanghaiLily

Author Summary: Jackie goes to Las Vegas for Fez’s wedding, drinks a little too much, and then wakes up in married to the last person she ever thought would commit to her. This is what happens the morning after.

My Thoughts: Like I mentioned earlier, this author really has hit-or-miss characterization. I really like this fic though because I’m a sucker for Hyde not only being a complete sap over Jackie, but it’s nice to see him kiss her ass. Let’s be real, we all deserve it after the travesty of season 8

That’s My Baby by kezztip

Author Summary: This is a JH story with a twist instead of the wedding and baby being the happy ending, it’s going to be the rocky start. All of you who love to watch Jackie outzen Hyde will be on board with this one.

My Thoughts: This is definitely my favorite kezztip fic. Jackie is so strong in this fic, which I can never get enough of. The author really has Donna grovel to Jackie as well because Donna is TERRIBLE to her in season 8. The writing and characterization are just so well done in this story. I seriously cannot stress that enough! I find it to be the most realistic JH reunion fic post-season 8 because of Jackie’s attitudes towards the gang, her new life/job, and her new outlook on life. After Fez, I can really see her shutting down her hopeless romantic side so she can focus on something she can control; like work. The middle of the fic kind of drags because it’s very clear what the author intends to do, but it quickly picks back up once that part of the story is resolved. This is a must read, especially with what you’re looking for!

The Right Road Lost by zpplnchick

Author Summary: After a car accident, Hyde wakes up to a twisted version of reality he comes to find is actual hell and with no memory of how he got there, a hell that Jackie’s been living in for the past few months. Set during Season 8, shortly after “Sweet Lady”.

My Thoughts: A more detailed, drawn-out, and angstier version of “Nowhere But Lost”

The Tough Get Going by kezztip

Author Summary: What if Jackie went back to her job in Chicago instead of sticking around Point Place to take Hyde’s crap? Say hello again to the strong, determined Jackie we saw glimpses of in Season 7 as she finds a new love but then is pursued by her old love JH AU

My Thoughts: !STRONG JACKIE! and the plot kind of reminds me of a rom-com

Made Bare by mistymountainhop

Author Summary: A heartbroken Hyde considers his relationship with Jackie kaput. Too bad Jackie sees it differently. She intends to get a proper resolution with him, but breaking through his hostility—and getting past his wife—may well prove impossible

My Thoughts: Noone understands JH better. Period.

November Rain by luvcali76

Author Summary: JH Post Season 8. A torrid encounter on Halloween night, 1984, leads ex-couple, Jackie and Hyde, to spend the next month reevaluating their past.

My Thoughts: *sigh* I really hesitate adding this to my list because I really hate this fic. The only thing I like about it is the last chapter, but even that is eh. This is a really popular fic in the fandom, but it’s definitely not for me. I find it too angsty, I don’t buy Hyde in another serious romantic relationship, and I don’t buy Jackie cheating. There’s a trend in some JH fics where they have Jackie cheat on whoever she’s with so she can have these one-night-stands with Hyde. It’s not in Jackie to cheat, no matter who it’s with. It bothers me and the plot isn’t good enough for me to look past it. It’s super angsty too, which also aren’t my favorite so maybe that’s why I don’t like it so much. I’m adding it to the list though because many people do like it, and you may be one of them!

Imagine by heatherlea75

Author Summary: 1980 has been a lousy year for the entire gang, particularly Hyde and Jackie. When a beloved cultural icon dies, the two take an impulsive trip to New York, together. While there, they remember old impressions of one another and discover new things about themselves

My Thoughts: While this is a JH classic in the fandom and a ton of people love it, I’m not the biggest fan. One of the main problems I had with it was I found Jackie acting way too desperate to appease Hyde after all he had done to her in season 8. It is important to note that the writing is solid and there were parts of the story that I did enjoy. While it may not be my cup of tea, you may like it!

Chasing the Time by pastelpink

Author Summary: Everything was different apart from one thing: Jackie still loved Hyde. (Set during Season 8)

Cliches and Things They Say by heatherlea75

Author Summary: Jackie is looking forward to the new direction her life has taken. Hyde is happy with the same old, same old of his. But when once faces a familiar and seemingly inevitable situation, and the other an unexpected dressing down, both reevaluate their lives.

My Thoughts: I’m surprised that I haven’t read this yet, but I found it buried down deep in my TBR folder. The writing is solid, there’s definite angst, and you’ll definitely get the ending you’re looking for!

Misguided Ghosts by JoyfulHeartEO

Author Summary: The gang has left, Jackie and Hyde are the only ones left. But after Sam left they stopped talking. When something happens to Jackie will Hyde be there for her? Or will he be selfish and only help himself. Its time to grow up, but will he?

My Thoughts: While this fic is incomplete and not the best written, there’s a super sweet Hyde in it which is always a fun thing

Life As A House by kezztip

Author Summary: A Crossover with the movie - Jackie’s Uncle George invites her to spend the summer with him to help with a ‘special project’. She agees but she will get more than she bargained for when she finds out the real reason behind her Uncle’s invitation.

My Thoughts: kezztip is one of my favorite fanfic authors for season 8 related fics. She usually crafts a strong Jackie who stands up for herself, something that we didn’t get to see in season 8. While this isn’t the best fic she’s written, it’s still worth a read!

Friends or Lovers? by JoyfulHeartEO

Author Summary: N/A

My Thoughts: This fic is super long and the author is known for their sugary sweet fics. From what I’ve skimmed, this looks to be her attempt at an angsty fic. This could be a hit-or-miss, but it should be pretty decent

Pain Without Love by YouLivexYouDie

Author Summary: Three-shot. Jackie Burkhart is about to experience something life changing. She will never be the same afterward nor will the people who love her. Eventual JH

My Thoughts: This actually looks really good! The writing looks pretty well done and what I’ve seen has definitely intrigued me. While this place during season 8, it’s still basically what you’re looking for

Happy Holidays by YouLivexYouDie

Author Summary: Three-shot. Jackie planned on spending the holidays alone, that was until Eric Forman decided to come back from Africa early. JE friendship, eventual JH.

My Thoughts: I love fics with Jackie and Eric friendship, especially when Eric helps JH and their relationship. This also takes place during season 8 instead of after

All It Takes Is Love by SwanseaGurl

Author Summary: Jackie Hyde post season 8, two shot

My Thoughts: Also takes place during season 8(Sam is still there so it’s season 8 no matter what the author says) and it’s pretty short. Regardless, I think it’s one of the better short season 8 fics that I’ve read

For Her Sake by heatherlea75

Author Summary: Jackie and Hyde’s final break up is brutal, though all is not as it seems. When his involvement in certain activities forces Hyde to take drastic action, the fate of his complicated relationship with Jackie appears doomed. But is it?

My Thoughts: This is such a good fic! There’s romance, crime, mystery, and plenty of drama! I’m really picky about season 8 fics, especially if Sam is in it. The author was really creative with this story, so I highly recommend!

Let me know if y’all want any other fic recs

#Bridget answers things #jackie x hyde #hyde x jackie #JH #otp: I'm the bitch and you love me #otp: I thought it might cheer you up #Jackie and Hyde #hyde and jackie #That '70s Show #fanfic recs

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