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faithfullyfictional · 2 years

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Oooooo guuuurlll - SHE LIVIN'!! 🔥

Can We Be Wrong Tonight? - Chapter Two

Pairing: Colin Zabel x Reader

Work Summary: In the wake of Missy Sager’s disappearance, you’re having trouble staying safe while making ends meet. Colin Zabel x Sex Worker!Reader.

Chapter Summary: Detective Zabel engages your services.

Chapters: 1 2 ...

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2948

Read on AO3.

Masterlists.

Taglist: @trashmaximoff @raincoffeeandfandoms @josephines-simps-fics @mrs-kai-anderson

Taglist info.

Notes:

Warnings: smut, sex work, petite!reader

---

After a long day of classes, you lay face down onto your bed. You had two assignments due next week and you had no idea when you were going to find the time.

You didn’t have the energy to worry about that right now. You needed a nap.

Beside you on your pillow, your phone buzzed loudly, the sound ripping through the haze. The screen lit up with the words ‘Text message from Zabel’. You sat up.

It had been three days since he’d dropped you off at your home. Three days since he’d cleaned up your wounds. Three days since you’d propositioned him. This was the first you’d heard from him. Heart racing, you opened the message.

Can I call you? was all it said. Flushed, you texted back a simple affirmative.

A moment later, the phone began to ring. You answered it immediately.

“Hello?”

“Hey… It’s Colin Zabel.” He sounded nervous. “We met the other day.”

“I remember you. Did you get my email with the CCTV footage alright?” You already knew that they had. Mare had emailed you back her thanks.

“What?” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Oh yeah, yeah we did. It was very helpful, thank you. That’s, uh… That’s not why I’m calling.”

“Oh?” You let the pitch of your voice drop into a lower, more sultry register. “What can I do for you, detective?”

“Can I… Can we…” You heard him taking a deep breath. “I want to meet up. Can we do that?”

“Are you trying to engage my services, detective?” you purred.

“I… Yeah. Yes, I am.”

You bit your lip. You really should say no. He was a cop. A cop with pretty eyes and strong hands. But a cop, nonetheless.

Against your better judgment, you said, “tomorrow night?”

“Yeah, that sounds good to me.”

You gave him a place and a time to meet you. As you put your phone down, you were almost breathless; from anxiety or excitement, you weren’t sure.

This hotel wasn’t one of your usual haunts. You wanted to put as much distance between this and your normal work, just in case it went wrong.

You met Zabel in the parking lot. His face was very pink as he took you in. You’d settled for a more discrete outfit: lingerie hidden under jeans and a nice top, high heeled boots and a leather jacket, a backpack slung over one shoulder.

“Evening, detective,” you said, smirking at him.

“You look gorgeous,” he blurted out, and then his face turned somehow even redder.

You held out your hand to him. “Shall we go inside?” He stared at you for a moment, and then took it.

You didn’t say anything as he paid for the room. Feeling in a coquettish, teasing mood, you leant into his side, playing the part of the devoted girlfriend for the receptionist’s benefit. Not that she seemed to care. She barely looked up from her computer.

As soon as she handed over the key, you squeezed Zabel’s hand again.

“Come on, baby,” you said. There was a flash of anxiety across his face, gone almost as soon as it had appeared.

He was quiet as you made your way up to the room. He didn’t speak until you were inside with the door shut behind you.

“I’ve never done this before,” he said.

“No? I never would’ve guessed,” you teased. “I can show you the ropes, detective.” You tugged on the lapels of his jacket, pulling him towards you. Standing this close, he towered over you. It was pretty hot.

“Colin,” he said.

“Huh?”

“Call me Colin, please.”

“Colin…” You let your lips wrap around the word, releasing it breathily into the air between you. You were close enough that you could see the goosebumps that sprang up along his neck.

“Can I kiss you?”

You nodded, and he closed the space between you. His lips were soft but firm, insistent against yours. You let him set the pace, melting into his arms as his tongue probed curiously into your mouth.

He pulled back very suddenly. “I haven’t… I haven’t…” He stuttered, grasping for words. You just waited, fingers still curled into the front of his jacket, for him to find them. “I haven’t had sex since my fiancée left me. So I’m probably a little rusty.”

“That’s okay,” you cooed. “I’m sure you’ll do fine.” He was very cute. You kind of want to pinch his cheeks. And ride his face. Hm.

When he kissed you again, it was with more confidence. His hands came up to rest on your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“Y/N…” he murmured, and you froze. He stopped moving too, his arms still around you. “Sorry. Did I do something wrong?”

You looked up into his eyes. They were dark but bright and shiny. He seemed so earnest and genuine. You liked that about him.

“No, baby,” you said softly. “I don’t normally use my real name when I’m working, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry. Do you want me to call you something else?”

“No, it’s okay.” You had a few different pseudonyms you traded between, depending on the type of client. Changing names helped you slip into a new persona. “You already know my real name, so it doesn’t make a difference.”

But it did make a difference. As he started kissing your neck, your head was spinning. There was something so exposing about being here and being Y/N, rather than any of the myriad people you’d be on any other night.

The cat was out of the bag. Even if you asked him to call you something else, you would both know it was a lie. Best to just go with it.

His movements were so gentle and unsure. He needed guidance, and you were willing to give it. With both hands on his chest, you pushed him back towards the bed. He went willingly – so eager and pliant – and you straddled his lap.

As your crotch pressed against his clothed erection, you let out a moan. “Colin.”

He buried his face into your neck and held you tight against him. “You smell good,” he murmured.

You pulled back and looked him in the eyes. “Where do you want me?”

“I…” For a moment, he looked lost. “I don’t know.”

“That’s okay.” You stood up from his lap. “Let me know if that changes.” He stared at you, bereft, until you tugged your shirt off over your head. You took your bra off too, tossing it aside.

“Fuck.” At the sight of your bare breasts, his eyes had gotten very large.

“Can I take this off?” you asked, fingering the bottom of his shirt. He nodded, so you started on the buttons. His eyes were on your face. You were almost scared to meet them. He might burn a hole right through you. You focused instead on his shirt.

When you finally got it off, you were greeted by the sight of his body. He was reasonably slim, with a soft tummy. He didn’t have much body hair, except for a happy trail that led tantalisingly down past his waistband.

Kneeling between his legs, you got to work on his belt. You undid it and pulled his trousers and underwear down just enough for his dick to spring free.

You curled your hand around it and pressed a kiss to the skin there. Colin swore again. Feeling pleased with yourself, you licked at the head. He tasted like a delicious combination of sweat and soap.

As you slipped one hand down to cup his balls, he gasped out a moan. You looked up at him through your eyelashes and took him all the way into your mouth.

“Fuck.” His hands fisted into the bedsheets. His dick was long enough that you couldn’t fit it all in your mouth and had to wrap a hand around the base. You hollowed out your cheeks and sucked, dragging moans and gasps from deep within him.

It was exceptionally satisfying. He reacted to your every touch. He gripped the sheets, almost as though he was too nervous to ask if he could touch you and didn’t know what else to do with his hands. You wouldn’t have minded him pulling your hair, but as a general rule you wanted to be asked first.

You pulled back, still holding his dick in your hand. His chest was rising and falling rapidly. His pupils were so big that you could hardly see his irises.

“You doing okay, baby?” you asked.

“More than okay.” He sounded breathless. “You’re good at that.”

“Where do you want to cum?”

His eyes widened. You continued stroking his dick, looking up at him innocently. “On your face,” he said after a long moment.

You dipped forward again and starting to lick his balls. He let out a gasp and then fell back, leaning on his elbows. His dick rested against your cheek as you licked and sucked at his balls. You could see the way his stomach muscles trembled.

“I’m gonna-”

You sat up a little straighter, looking him directly in the eye as you jerked him off. Cum splattered across your face, landing on your cheeks and lips. You kept going until he let out a little whine. When you released him, his breathing started to even out a little.

He gazed down at you with a soft smile on his face. You licked your lips, tasting him on them. Scooping up some cum with your thumb, you put it in your mouth and sucked, savouring the taste.

“Jesus,” he murmured, staring at you.

“He had nothing to do with it, I assure you,” you said. Slowly, you got to your feet. It was strange; you were completely topless, but still wearing jeans. You dabbed at the cum that was still on your face, trying not to ruin your make-up any further. Colin tentatively hooked his finger into your belt loop and pulled you closer.

“Can I go down on you?” he asked.

You shivered. “You don’t have to do that.”

“What if I want to?” He didn’t meet your eyes. Instead, he was staring hungrily at where the lace of your panties was sticking up over the top of your jeans.

“Yeah, if you want to.”

When you gave the green light, something switched in him. Gone was the shy man who could barely form words while his dick was in your mouth, and was afraid to touch you. He stood and kicked off his jeans and underwear. Without warning, he slipped his hands under your thighs and lifted you off your feet. You squeaked as he spun you around, your back hitting the bed.

He unbuttoned your jeans and tugged them down, leaving you in only your panties and knee-high socks. You let him press you into the mattress, your heart thumping as he pressed his face into your stomach. His breath was hot against your skin. He nuzzled at your hipbone, and then slid your panties to one side.

“Fuck,” he muttered as he unstuck them from your wetness. Your skin felt very hot. His tongue delved tentatively into your folds, tasting your arousal, and you trembled.

His palm was flat on your stomach, holding you in place. It was all he needed to do. There was something very hot about how much control he had over you right now. You never normally let yourself get in this deep, but as his tongue pressed hard against your clit, you felt your resolve melting away.

He was good. What he lacked in experience, he made up for in enthusiasm, and he seemed finely tuned to every little gasp and shudder you let out.

He pinched your clit between two fingers and squeezed. You moaned, curling your legs loosely around his shoulders. This didn’t have to be good for you. That wasn’t the point of this. But it was good.

As he prized your labia apart with his fingers and sunk his tongue into you, your back arched. The firm pressure of his thumb against your clit brought you to orgasm, shaking and trembling and squeezing around his tongue.

“Colin,” you moaned, your toes curling. He held you through it, never letting up on the insistent rubbing of his thumb on your clit.

When your body finally relaxed, he let you go, leaning back to take in the sight of you. You were laying out in front of him, naked but for your socks and panties, breathing hard.

“Was that… was that okay?” asked Colin nervously.

“That was amazing,” you murmured. He flushed. You could tell he wasn’t sure whether to believe you. After all, it was your job to make him feel good. But you weren’t lying. It had been amazing.

As you sat up, you saw that he was hard again. Feeling generous, you reached for his cock. You wrapped your hand around it and his eyes fell closed.

You started to jerk him off, but his hand covered yours suddenly. “Can I fuck you?”

Still sat on the edge of the bed, you stared up at him with innocent eyes. His cheeks were bright and his lips were wet with your cum.

“Yeah,” you said breathless, “Okay.”

You stood and went over to the bag you’d left by the door. You carried a range of sizes of condoms, but you’d already seen Colin’s dick so you grabbed a large and tossed the packet to him. As he rolled it onto himself and jerked his dick a few times for good measure, you stripped off your panties and lay back on the bed.

“How do you want me, Colin?” you asked. You spread your legs wide. “Like this?” You rolled over onto your hands and knees, looking at him over your shoulder. “Or like this?” You wiggled your ass at him.

He grabbed your hips, stilling your movements. “I want to see your face.”

You let him roll you sideways onto your back. One socked foot came up to rest on his shoulder, the other hooked behind his hip, pulling him closer to you. He lined himself up and then pushed into you.

His eyes fell shut. With your legs, you pulled him closer until he was hovering over you, his knees either side of your hips.

When he opened his eyes, he looked down at you. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, smoothing a lock of hair behind your ear. The tenderness on his face made you catch your breath. As he began to thrust into you – slow, deep thrusts – you tangled your hands in his hair.

You weren’t used to feeling like this. It had been a long while since you’d had a relationship. You never had sex for fun anymore. Part of you had forgotten what it was like.

Your second orgasm hit you hard. It caught you off guard, so instead of your usual exaggerated moans, it came out as a whimper. You clung to Colin, feeling the hot, solid warmth of his body on top of yours.

When he came, he moaned your name, his thrusts speeding up. You angled your hips, meeting his every motion, but when he pulled out of you and you felt suddenly very empty.

Colin tied off the condom and tossed it in the trash. Splayed out on the bed, you felt vulnerable, so you sat up, crossing your legs. Neither of you spoke as he dressed himself.

After a long moment of silence, he cleared his throat. “Thank you. That was… That was awesome.” You didn’t say anything as he grabbed his wallet and started counting out bills. Your heart was sinking slowly.

Part of you was angry at yourself for being so stupid. You’d got caught up in the moment, fleetingly wishing that instead of paying you for your services, he would roll over in bed and spoon you. But of course he didn’t. He handed you a wad of bills.

“That covers it, right?” He looked nervous.

You thumbed through the money in your hands. “And then some. You’ve overpaid.” You made as though to hand some of it back, but he shook his head.

“It’s a tip.”

“Thank you.” Your skin felt very hot.

“Do you want me to drop you home? I’ve got my car.”

“No thanks.” The words were out before you’d even had a chance to think about them, but you knew it was the right thing to do. Tonight was enough of a headfuck as it was, without him driving you home.

Maybe your period was approaching. That’s the only explanation you could think of as to why you felt so weird.

“Well… I’ll see you around?” said Colin awkwardly.

“You know where to find me.”

As soon as the hotel room door clicked shut behind him, you got to your feet. Your legs felt like lead, but you forced yourself to walk into the ensuite bathroom. You peed – it wasn’t worth the risk of a UTI – and got out your face wipes.

There were still traces of dried cum on your face. Wincing, you got to work wiping them – and your make-up – off.

You saw the tears before you felt them, and then they were unstoppable. Your shoulders shook and you had to wrap your arms around yourself.

Colin had paid for the room for the night, so you retrieved clean underwear, a t-shirt and sweats from your backpack. Dressed in comfy clothes, you felt less vulnerable and exposed, so you hit the lights and crawled into the bed. You were asleep in moments.

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faithfullyfictional · 2 years

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YES! This is the AU dreams are made of! 😭

Meet me at the Hanging Tree

Hunger Games au

Pairings: Peter Maximoff x fem!reader

Series Warnings: Murdering, described death and violence, suicide, death for natural causes such as starving, hypotermia, dehydratation and wounding infection.

Series Summary: Panem, governed by President Erik Magnus, is getting ready for the 75th Hunger Games. It's during this Quarter Quell that the reader will learn how far one can go for the loved one, even if that could bring her to certain death.

Disclaimer: The story is written in third person, as I'll add other point of views outside the arena.

A big thank you goes to @raincoffeeandfandoms , who helped me pick most of the characters and collocate them in the districts when i was in a a total block.

Chapter One: May the odds be ever in your favor

warnings: none (in this chapter)

Summary: y/n Grey gets ready for the Reaping, without knowing how much that day will change her life forever.

Light. A bright light came out of nowhere, waking y/n up all of a sudden. Not that she had slept that much anyway. She never did, and that day especially.

She kept staying in bed, not wanting to get up. Because if she did, she would be forced to face the truth of what was going to happen, and she really didn't want to. Every year for five years now. That fear that grew inside of her the day before, developed during the night, and reached its peak in the morning.

On one side, that was good. Every time she felt fear, panic, anxiety building inside of her, her stomach closed itself almost in a protective way.

After all, she would puke everything shortly after anyway. She never ate during Reaping Day. But, from the sound coming from the small room next to hers, which was the only room in the shack that you had decided to call house for convention, Jean did. And she also woke up sooner than her, but that wasn't something new. Weird enough Jean was two years older than y/n, which meant that she couldn't be picked out anymore. And yet, sometimes she thought that she was even more scared.

One year. In one week she'd be seventeen, which meant that she only had to survive another reaping after the one of today. Mentally cursing herself for not being born a few days before, because that would have made this her last Hunger Games ceremony as a possible tribute, she finally got up slowly. She didn’t even have the time to reach the door that she was met with Jean red puffy eyes. She cried. Without saying a word, she went to hug her, uncertain if it was the right thing to do at first. “Did you sleep well?” Jean asked. “Yes.” The girl lied, as if she didn’t know the truth. Y/n moved out of her sister's grip, and directed to the chair where she left her clothes the day before. “You don’t need to go today.” She shakes her head. “Yes I do. We still need to eat tonight. What, you don't want to party with me not being picked?” The read-head stayed serious. “Please be careful. If they find you-” “They won’t. Promise.” And with that being said, she left the house with nothing more than her knife in one hand, and a small bag in the other.

Honestly she hated hunting. Those animals she killed, even the smallest one, they all had more freedom that she will ever have. And when she killed them, she felt like she was taking that freedom from them. But she had to survive too, right? Selling those squirrels allowed you to eat enough every day. Jean hated it too. She'd prefer that she just procured the herbs for her mother to sell them at The Hob like she did before, but before they had their dad working at the mine. When he died it was quite a shock for the three of them, especially for their mother.

She still worked, but she barely sold anything anymore. Jean had tried to help her too, but without any success. So it was up to y/n. Or at least that's how she felt.

As she walked over the fence, which as usual wasn't electrified, she looked up at the sky. It was of a dark color, gray clouds threatening to start raining. It was almost nine in the morning and the ceremony wouldn't have started before noon, so she had all the time to find something to eat, go back home, get ready, and survive the reaping. Walking in the woods scared almost everyone in District 12. But for her, it was escaping. Escaping the misery of the Seam, the terror of the Hunger Games. She heard a small crack on her left and cautiously lifted her weapon. There it was, a rabbit that had fallen in the trap that she had prepared the day before. "Sorry little one." She mumbled, cutting the rope. "But I need to live too."

~~~

"Well finally she's back! Where have you been, you're late!" Jean was almost yelling at her, the pity she felt this morning for her sister was now replaced with hysterical anger. It always went like that, she got used to it by now. "Oh just picking your dinner, you're welcome." She said, throwing the bag on the table. "Come on y/n, i prepared your bath." Their mother came out of Jean's room, which was big enough for the small bathtub - even if to y/n was smaller than a bowl - and so to be considered a bathroom. She undressed and started washing herself. After brushing off all the dirt off her body she dried her hair with a towel, if you could call that rag a towel.

She observed the dress that her mother had prepared on the bed. It was simple, mostly white with shadows of pale pink, probably the original colour. It was Jean's old dress, and now it was hers. The older sister was looking at her from the door, that sad look back on her face.

She waited until she was dressed and then hugged you again, tighter than that morning. "I love you, you know that?" Y/n nodded in her arms. "Well I hope so. It's the least after I make you survive every day." Jean gently slapped her on the arm. "Can you be serious for once?" She shaked her head. "Hardly doubt that." Jean chuckled. “Everything will be alright.” She reassured her sister. Their mother came in interrupting the moment. “It’s time.” They both nodded, and got out headed to the Palace of Justice.

The two sisters held hands the whole way there, until they had to separate due to y/n need of getting registered. She followed the line of kids and, after having dropped her drop of blood on the paper in front of the peacekeeper, she positioned herself in the group of possible tributes. She searched for her sister's look, hoping to find some hope. But her thoughts were interrupted by a feminine voice the whole District knew too well. “Welcome, welcome!” Effie Trinket said to the speaker. “Happy 75th Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favour.” She happily welcomed everyone. “Before we begin, here we have a video directly from the Capitol, with our President Magnus announcement for this year Quarter Quell!” And with that the video began. “War. Horrible, war…” Honestly, y/n felt pity for the woman. As any other Capitol citizen she found the Hunger Games thrilling and exciting, but being the hoster in District 12 wasn’t the best. If she was her, she would have had that desperate look in the corner of her eyes too. Almost invisible, but y/n knew it was there. Sometimes she wondered if she actually felt bad for the tributes, or if it was really just pure enjoyment of the Games.

The video finally finished and Erik Magnus appeared on screen, his daughter and son behind him, dressed elegant as ever. “Welcome, people of Panem. Exactly 75 years ago our most horrible, terrifying and destructive war came to an end. 75 years ago, we put the word over to the Dark Days. The Hunger Games are a constant reminder of those days, a reminder not to repeat the same mistakes again. I am now talking to the districts. You are angry and mad. You think that you are the only ones who had losses during that war, and keep having them. But I am here to prove you wrong. Every 25 years, as a reminder of the defeat of the Districts, we plan a Quarter Quell, and so we will this year. But this time, we want to remind you that we lost too. We lost friends. Families. Loved ones. And for that, this year, the Capitol too will offer two tributes, picked from this jar exactly the same way any other tribute is.” Everyone started murmuring, talking with the person next to them, even Effie seemed shocked. Someone started clapping, some other saying “That’s fair!”. Y/n observed the reaction of the person on screen. The president’s progeny looked just as shocked as the rest of the people. Was it possible that no one knew about it but the President and the gamemakers?

After a few minutes of silence where he ordered the teens in age to participate in the Games to get in line, he spoke again. “And so, we’ll be the first to start this Reaping Day.” He gestured to a woman next to him to go pick the card in the two jars positioned in front of him. “As for the ladies.” The woman spoke with a broken voice, her hand shaking from the anxiety. “Lorna Dane.” Even if she tried to hide it, the relief in her voice was obvious. The camera moved over the group, where a girl with short dark hair was already moving out. Everyone watched her as she kept walking, the girl herself picking to the giant screens in front of her. She reached the President on his stage, and positioned herself behind the woman who was now going for the other jar. “Now, the boys.” Her voice was less nervous now, which probably meant that she didn’t have any son. She took a piece of paper from it and looked at it.

At first, it was like she wasn’t reading it well, like she couldn't believe what was written. But she did anyway. “Peter… Peter Magnus.” The camera almost flew to the boy's face and even if she wasn’t shown, the sobs of her sister were clearly heard. As for Peter himself, he was clearly trying to hide the fear he felt, moving slowly to stand next to Lorna. The camera then moved to Erik, his father, who wasn’t showing anything but pure indifference to the news that his son had just got picked to a certain death. Y/n wanted to feel bad for those two, she really did. But like her fellow District habitants, she couldn't. She just hid it better. The only person she actually felt sorrow for was Peter's sister. Her cries could still be heard from the screen, even if two peacekeepers had distanced her from the stage.

The president stayed still, crossing his hands. "Now that Capitol City has their tributes too, we can proceed with the District Reaping. Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favour." All the citizens clapped their hands, and then the connection was interrupted to show the Panem symbol, the national anthem in the background. Effie was recomposing herself after the news, and remembered the reason why she was there. "Ahem, well. As usual, ladies first." She said, and walked over to the jar. Her coloured nails wandered over the many names, and finally picked one. She walked to the microphone again and spoke with a clear voice: "Y/n Grey!" It took her a moment to realize that she had called her name.

Some kids started pushing the girl gently, and moved away so that she could reach Effie. At first she didn't make a movement, but soon realized she had to. Y/n started walking slowly, very slowly. Her eyes met with Jean's one and she knew, from the pain in her eyes, that that was exactly what Peter's sister was feeling at that very moment. "Ah yes, very well!" Effie said, inviting the new tribute with her. "And now, for the boys!" She barely heard as Effie called the name of Darwin. She didn't know a lot about him, only that he worked at the market. But as they shaked hands, only one thought was taunting her mind.

I am going to participate and probably die in the 75th Hunger Games.

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faithfullyfictional · 2 years

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Flatline - Prologue (Peter Parker x Female!OC)

Summary: She was a normal kid once, but when growing up proves tough, one slip changes it all.

Warnings: Defibrillators, Paramedics, Bullying

Word Count: 2,149

A/N: Hey! So, I’ve been sitting on this for months and I haven’t proof read it in about that long also, so I’m not sure how it holds up. It started off with an idea for a character and I wrote a quick chapter of an origin for her and how she got her powers and it turned into a Spiderman fic. I haven’t written more than 2 chapters so far but I have a solid vision for where I want to take it. All I need is the motivation to do so. SO! Imma post what I have so far here and if I get even one bit of decent feedback, then I’ll keep at it.This chapter is mostly just prologue that sets up the OC, Ava McAllistair - a young girl about the same age as Peter with the ability to control and harness electricity.

Born in the city of Vineland, New Jersey, Ava McAllistair was a very normal teenager. In this case, “normal” refers to her impeccable lack of superhuman abilities. At a time when Superheroes were everywhere, Ava took comfort in her super average existence.

She lived in a small townhouse on a quiet street with her mother Naomi and her step-father Tim, a stern - but caring - police officer of the NYPD. The three of them were incredibly close throughout her childhood. They always ate together, every night. They’d say grace and give thanks. They’d have movie nights and game nights. But when Ava started high school, she became more and more distant each day and those precious moments grew fewer and further apart. To Ava, it seemed that all the things she valued so much just seemed to become trivial. It was as though her mind had grown a fog that only cleared when she was in her room. All alone.

At school, Ava was never really picked on. As a matter of fact she had many friends. The real problem was that the friends she had weren't the nicest of people. You see, her friends were bullies. They picked on the nerds and the geeks and the loners and anyone else they didn’t deem as cool as they thought they were. They didn’t start off that way. They had all been friends since kindergarten and they were always so carefree and full of light, but now that they were teenagers, something had changed. It just happened one day and she didn’t have the spine to tell them to stop. The funny thing was that Ava was a nerd, but she decided it was better if she started hiding that from them all. Just in case they decided to turn on her.

She was top of all of her classes and the moment she got the scores from her tests and quizzes, she’d hide them. Whenever the girls started poking fun at people, she would just hang her head and keep quiet. She hoped they’d just grow out of it one day and then things could just go back to how they were before… but that never happened.

Eventually, the day came when she couldn’t stay silent anymore. It was her 16th birthday, but her friends were more preoccupied with their latest victim than planning any celebrations. They were packing up for the day when one of the girls started proposing a scheme.

“You know that little dweeb Annie? About two feet tall? Carries around that lame Star Trek lunchbox?” The group began tittering at the mention of the sci-fi franchise, which made Ava Shudder. The Next Generation was her favourite show. She watched it every night. “I spotted her on my way home yesterday. She was all by herself. I’ve been looking for an excuse to slam that hag since she ratted me out for peeking at her History sheet.” An evil smirk slipped onto her face. “What do you guys think?”

Everyone started nodding and planning as they left the building. Ava said nothing and she did even less. She just followed behind them like a brainwashed zombie. She would usually walk home with them because she lived further away than most of the others and didn’t want to be alone. The streets are no place for a weakling like her to walk alone.

They followed close behind their prey until they were far enough from the school and when they were close enough to pounce, they swiped her lunchbox right out of her hands.

“Hey!” She cried, reaching for the steel handle but ultimately tripping up. The girls started skipping ahead, passing the box from person to person like a ball in a twisted game of catch until the tallest girl, who wore a chunky green cardigan, took it and ran. She waved it above her head as she went while Annie stumbled to her feet and began running after them as fast as her legs could carry her.

“Catch us if you can, Ann!” One of them screeched as the others echoed.

They ran through the streets laughing and jeering, watching her race after them, when they ended up by an old power station. It was on a dark street corner surrounded by a tall wired fence and barbed wire. The fencing was littered with big signs. Signs that said things like Keep Out and Danger. There was even a sign that said Biohazard in big red letters gracing the padlocked gate.

One of the girls grabbed the box from her comrade. This girl was considerably shorter and sturdier than the others. With big front teeth and long frizzy hair, it would be all too easy to mistake her for a Shetland pony.

“Good luck catching this, bitch!” She cackled as she catapulted the box over the fence. Everyone but Ava and Annie roared with laughter as it hit off a pylon right in the middle of the small enclosure. They were about to run away when Ava cracked.

“You know what? Fuck this. Fuck you guys! I’ve had it!” She screamed, visibly shaking. She leapt up onto the fence and started to climb, calling back to Annie “Don’t worry, I’ll fix this.” and ignoring the little sign that read Warning: Death.

“Ava stop!” Annie cried. “It’s just a lunchbox!”

Annie tried to tell her not to do it. She told her to just drop the whole thing but Ava was determined to do the right thing for once. To prove that she wasn’t an asshole like the others. However, when she reached the other side of the fence, her foot got caught on a strip of black and yellow tape and she slipped. Everything started to slow down at that moment. She felt her vision blur and her whole body felt like it was sinking to the bottom of a pool. Before she could close her eyes and pray she had been more careful, she found herself landing right on top of a large electrified metal structure and frying herself. When she bounced onto the ground, her “friends” ran off screaming but Annie immediately grabbed her phone and called for help. But for Ava, everything went black.

Her heart had stopped.

The ambulance came as quick as it could and paramedics had to set up the defibrillator to restart her heart. When she came to, she shot up straight. It felt like her limbs were filled with bees and her head was filled with air. The paramedics claim that they saw her eyes go bright for a second, like a camera flash, and the entire city suffered from a brief blackout until she passed out again.

She woke up in hospital a week later. When she went home, it didn’t take her long to notice something… wasn’t quite right. It started with little things. Lights in her house would flicker when she entered a room. Her phone screen would go black for a few seconds and then go back to normal as though it had been fine the whole time. There was one time when she could have sworn the toaster could read her mind. The moment she thought “Man, I wish this toast would hurry up and pop already”, it did! It sounds crazy, stupid even, but she really thought she had super powers in that moment, and she almost hoped that she did. Toast summoning seemed like the best damn power ever. But that’s when things started getting even weirder.

She started feeling these strong magnetic pulses through her arms whenever she flicked a switch. The moment her skin made contact with the smooth plastic socket it was like being set on fire. The first time it happened she screamed so loud her mother thought she had been shot. Eventually, Ava started to connect the dots.

She’d shut off all the lights, sit on her bedroom floor with her laptop on in front of her and press her hands to the screen. She’d whisper things to herself.

“Come on. You can do it. Turn off.” Whenever she tried this, the screen would go black and the air around her seemed to vibrate. Everyday when she returned from school and she was alone, she would set up her new practice space and try again until she began to sense those vibrations get stronger and stronger. They felt so solid she could almost touch them, and when she willed those vibrations to move, they’d go wherever she wanted them to. With a single strained thought, she could move them from inside the laptop into the lights, switching them on all at once. It took a lot out of her, but she knew that if she kept trying, it would get easier and easier and her powers would get stronger and stronger.

Soon enough she was able to adjust the frequency of the buzzing which allowed her to make the lights brighter (or dimmer) at will. Something had happened to her that day at the power station. She couldn’t explain it, but somehow that accident had given Ava the ability to control electricity and static pulses. It scared her, but against all odds, she embraced this new chapter in her life. Though she knew it would have to remain hidden. This was one thing she wanted to keep all to herself.

However, whilst things at home were finally starting to look up, her school life had taken a plummet. She had ditched those bitches she used to call friends. That wasn’t the problem though. They were awful and she was better off without them but after the accident everyone heard about her cardiac event. They started calling her all sorts of horrid names. The fan favourite seemed to be “Freak-enstien” which, she had to had it to them, was pretty smart. Stupidly unoriginal, of course, but she could see the work behind it. She was dead for 5 minutes. The sparks from the conductors did resemble lighting when she hit metal. Not to mention that freak power surge.

The one thing she really couldn’t handle though was when they would creep up behind her in the halls and scream “SHE’S ALIVE!” in her ears. The first ten times they did it gave her the fright of her life, which was saying something since she had literally seen the gates of Heaven (or Valhalla or whatever afterlife she was subscribing to that week). She thought her heart was going to stop all over again… but then came the eleventh time. The twelfth time. Soon enough, she became numb to it. Not in a thick-skin way, though. In a what’s-the-point-anymore way.

Her parents decided it was getting out of hand when she stopped going to school. They decided it was time to do something before things got worse. It killed them to see their little girl go through something like that. So they decided to move to New York to start fresh. It was the perfect plan. Tim worked there anyway so it meant he could sleep a few hours longer in the mornings, Naomi could easily get transferred to a closer branch of the bank she worked for, and Ava could apply for a place at that genius school. Midtown, was it?. Her parents knew that she was too smart to go just anywhere anyway. She deserved a fair shot and they would do anything to make sure she got it.

Ava had also decided that, not only was this a great idea, but she was going to make this the freshest start possible. Wipe the slate clean, then disinfect it, then burn it to the ground and build a much better and cleaner slate. One thing people often do when starting fresh is change their appearance, so Ava was certainly no exception to this. She went out and bought the brightest hair dye she could find. The shade was called “Electric Blue” which she found humorous and very fitting. Not to mention that the sparks that she was now capable of emitting from her fingertips were in fact blue of hue. It was destiny. She took the dye home and rinsed her hair with it, staining the once dirty blonde strands a vivid sapphire. She immediately started questioning that decision but tried to stay confident. Ava was never really one for grabbing attention, but perhaps the new and improved Ava was? At this point, any change had to be a good change. It was time to embrace it.

Things were going to be different this time. They had to be. Ava wasn’t going to make the same mistakes again. If she was going to make friends, it would only be with the right sort or nobody at all. If she was going to make friends, she would have to find herself some nerds. Things could only get better.

#fanfic #fan fiction #spiderman #peter parker #spiderman x oc #spiderman x reader #peter parker x oc #peter parker x reader #marvel #mcu #marvel comics #oc #superhero #flatline

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faithfullyfictional · 2 years

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This is such an interesting idea and I'm loving it. Can we get more Zabel love, Tumblr? Please? 😩

Can We Be Wrong Tonight? - Chapter One

Pairing: Colin Zabel x Reader

Work Summary: In the wake of Missy Sager's disappearance, you're having trouble staying safe while making ends meet. Colin Zabel x Sex Worker!Reader.

Disclaimer: I'm not a sex worker so I'm sure there may be inaccuracies as to how I portray sex work in this fic, sorry in advance. This fic will cover some of the same dark themes as the show does (violence and prejudice against sex workers, assault, kidnapping). Read at your own risk. Also Colin is in his mid-30s, reader is in college (early 20s) and also he's a cop so there's definitely some power dynamic issues there.

Chapters: 1 ...

Word Count: 3000

Read on AO3.

Masterlists.

Taglist: @trashmaximoff @raincoffeeandfandoms @josephines-simps-fics @mrs-kai-anderson

Taglist info.

Your phone buzzed as you were applying your lipgloss. Part of you was hoping that it would be one of your regular clients, but it was Hayley. She was a friend of yours who was in the same line of work.

Mare is asking around to see if anyone knows anything about Missy’s disappearance

shes at the diner if you want to drop by

she bought me some food, so it might worth it just for the free lunch

You really didn’t want to be working the streets tonight, but rent was due, so you didn’t have much choice. Missy had disappeared. She was a good friend of yours. Everyone was on edge. But the alternative to working tonight was risking homelessness, and then you’d be in even more danger.

Hayley had saved just enough money to take a few weeks off. A little part of you was envious, but you were glad that she was safer.

You’d met Mare before. As far as you could tell, she was very chill, for a cop. She was investigating Missy’s disappearance, as well as Katie Bailey’s, and seemed to genuinely care about their wellbeing. You trusted her just about as much as you could trust a cop.

On my way, you texted back to Hayley, and then put on an oversized hoody that covered most of your outfit. You slipped your heels into your bag and put on sneakers, and then left your apartment.

At the diner, Mare was sitting at a table with a guy in a suit. From the looks of him, he was also a cop. You had developed a sixth sense for that sort of thing. You hovered by the door awkwardly until a waitress asked if you were waiting to be seated.

“I’m meeting some people here,” you said, and the waitress left you alone.

You made your way over to Mare’s table and caught her eye.

“Y/N, hey,” she said. “Do you wanna sit down?”

“Hey Mare.” Feeling very self-conscious, you sat down beside her.

“This is Detective Colin Zabel.” She indicated the man sitting across from you.

“Hi,” you said quietly. Male cops always put you on edge. You felt uneasy, but forced yourself to look him in the eyes.

“Hey,” he said. His eyes were so dark that you could barely tell his irises from his pupils. His shirt was rolled up to his elbows and his pale forearms were resting on the table.

“You want something to eat?” asked Mare.

“I don’t have any cash-”

“It’s on us.”

They were both silent while you perused the menu. When you ordered your food, they both ordered coffee.

As the waitress walked away, Mare turned to you. “Are you still working?”

Your shoulders tensed. “I have rent to pay.”

“I’m not judging you, I’m just asking.”

“… Yes, I’m still working.”

“Okay.” Mare nodded. Detective Zabel had only said one word to you since you’d been here. When you turned your head towards him, you caught him looking at you. Flustered, he looked down at his lap. You frowned.

“I know it’s dangerous right now,” you said. “Believe me. I know that better than almost anyone. But I don’t have a choice.”

“Do you know anything about what happened to Missy?”

“I saw her on the night she went missing. She said she was going to be working in the Penistone Street area.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Zabel writing something down in a notebook.

“Did anything seem off about her?” asked Mare.

You shook your head. “No. She seemed pretty normal. Or normal for Missy, at least.”

“Is there anything else you think we should know?”

You sat back in your seat, looking upwards as if the ceiling had the answers you were looking for. You took a deep breath. “There’s a guy who lives on the street where Missy went missing. He has security cameras that overlook that corner, but he’d never give that footage up to the cops. He doesn’t trust you guys. But I could maybe persuade him to hand it over.”

“That’d be very helpful.”

Your conversation was interrupted by your food arriving. Mare slipped with practised ease into casual conversation.

“How are your studies going?” she asked.

You made a face. You preferred not to think about college. “Fine. It’s hard to keep on top of homework when I’m barely making ends meet, though. I fell asleep in class twice last week.” You don’t know why you told her that. For some reason, you trusted her.

As soon as you tasted your food, you realised how ravenous you were. You ate fast, barely tasting it before swallowing. You were sure it was very bad manners but your stomach ached with emptiness and you didn’t care.

Detective Zabel was staring at you. You could feel his eyes on you. Your skin prickled.

“What?” you said, turning to him.

Startled, he quickly looked away. “Nothing. Sorry.”

You looked at Mare. She had a half-smile on her face, looking at the two of you in amusement. You finished your food in silence, feeling supremely awkward.

“I gotta get going,” you said, wiping your mouth. “Thanks for the food.”

Mare scribbled down her number on the back of a receipt and handed it to you. “Let me know when we can see that footage.”

“Will do.” You slipped the receipt in your pocket, nodded at Zabel, and then left.

As soon as you were gone, Mare turned to Colin. “What was thatabout?”

“What was what about?” he asked. The tips of his ears had gone bright pink.

“You like her, is that it?”

He sputtered, almost choking on his coffee. “Like her? I don’t even know her!”

“Uh-huh,” said Mare, raising her eyebrows. “Then why were you staring?”

“I wasn’t staring.” He sounded petulant, like a child. “She just seemed… I don’t know… Very tired?”

She gave him a look. “Well, if that’s all, we should probably call it a night. If she can get us footage of that corner on the night Missy disappeared, then that’s a serious lead.”

“Right.”

Mare paid the bill. The two of them walked into the parking lot together.

As they separated to go to their cars, she said, “See you in the morning, Zabel.”

“See you,” he said, distractedly.

You stepped out of the informant’s house, clutching your phone. He’d emailed you the security footage for the night that Missy had disappeared, but he had taken some serious persuasion.

He was a bit of a lech. He knew what you did for a living and he wasn’t going to give you anything for free. It meant you were sore and too tired to work any more tonight. You hadn’t made any money, but if this was going to bring Missy home, it was worth it. You’d probably skip class tomorrow to make some OnlyFans videos to make up for the lost income.

Out on the street, you slipped out of your heels and back into your sneakers. It was cold, so you put your hoody back on. Hugging yourself to keep warm, you walked back in the direction of your bus stop.

Snow was beginning to fall. Somewhere behind you, you heard footsteps. You sped up, just in case. So did the footsteps.

They were gaining on you. You continued power walking until you heard a man’s voice behind you.

“Hey sweetheart, you wanna show me a good time?”

You stopped and turned to face him. He was a white man in a suit, well-dressed and smiling at you. You looked him up and down, sizing him up. Tired and spent, the thought of a reasonable payday was the only thing stopping you from walking away right now.

“It’ll cost you,” you said after a long pause. He put his hand on your shoulder and then slid it down your arm in a way that made your skin crawl.

“Hey now, the first hit is always free, right?” Fuck no.

“I have to go, actually.” You tried to step away from him but he was gripping your elbow. “Let go of me.”

“Aw, don’t be like that, darling.” He tried to draw you towards him. You took a deep breath, and slammed your knee into his gut. He doubled over in pain, and you took your opportunity to run, ever thankful that you’d already changed out of your heels. “You little whore!” he screamed after you.

You made the mistake of glancing back over your shoulder and rolled your ankle, slipping on the snow. Your hands took the brunt of the fall but you also hit your knees. The man was approaching you again; you could hear his footsteps. Ignoring the stinging pain in your palms, you pushed yourself back to your feet and began to run again.

You were almost at the corner. There was traffic on the main road. There was no way he’d chase you that far.

It didn’t matter. Ten feet from the corner, hands wrapped around your neck from behind. He dragged you back against him. You tried to scream but he was restricting your airway. You kicked and punched and fought. Eventually, you managed to elbow him in the ribs hard enough for him to loosen his grip.

It was enough. You stomped on his instep and then launched yourself forward, skidding on the sidewalk of the main road and falling to your hands and knees.

He was still coming. You needed to move but you couldn’t get a good enough grip on the ground. He grabbed you by the collar and dragged you to your feet. Cars sped by, none of them stopping.

“Get off me,” you shrieked, trying to wriggle out of his grasp.

“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed.

You tried to elbow him again but this time he caught it and twisted your arm behind your back. Crying out in pain, you struggled, but he had you.

Up ahead, a car suddenly pulled over to the side of the road and the door opened. Out stepped a figure that you recognised. You breathed a deep sigh of relief at the sight of Detective Zabel.

“Let her go,” he said, flashing his police badge. The man behind you immediately released you and stepped back.

“Look, man, she attacked me, okay?” He had both hands up.

“I’m currently investigating the disappearance of a girl that happened on that street,” said Zabel, pointing at the road you’d just come from. “So unless you want me to arrest you and take you in for questioning, I’d suggest you give me something a little better than that.”

“I didn’t do anything,” said the man again. “I have nothing to do with any disappearance. I was just walking down this street and this little whore tried to mug me.” You flinched, taking another step away from him.

Zabel frowned. “You’re not helping your case.”

“It’s okay,” you said quietly. You already knew how this would go. It was this guy’s word against yours, and even if Zabel believed you, that didn’t mean a judge would. As far as possible, you wanted to avoid getting entangled with the cops. “You can let him go.”

Zabel looked at you, mouth agape. “What?”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s fine. Just let him go.” You were barely holding back tears at this point and you wanted to go home. Every moment you were spending here was a waste of time. “I have to go.”

Zabel glared at the man. “I’m letting you go with a warning this time. Don’t let me catch you around here again.”

“Right. Okay. Thank you.” The man turned and walked off as fast as possible back down the street you’d come from. You rubbed at your eyes, trying to stop the tears from spilling over.

“Y/N?” asked Zabel softly.

You cleared your throat. “Detective Zabel.”

“Can I drive you home? I don’t wanna leave you out here like this.”

Your breath hitched. “Y-yeah, okay.”

The car journey was pretty silent, apart from the occasional directions you gave him. Feeling shaken up and mildly worried you were going to run into your landlord, you let him walk you all the way into your apartment.

Your fingers trembled as you tried to unlock your front door. It was always stiff, but right now, with your hands aching from falling over twice, you couldn’t get it to turn.

“Are you alright?” asked Zabel, looking worried.

“The lock is stiff.” You tried again and then hissed in pain.

“Can I try?”

You stepped out of the way and he began to jiggle the key, trying to force it to turn. With his jaw clenched tight, he pushed and twisted until finally, it unlocked.

“Thank you,” you said, taking the key from him.

“Those scrapes look pretty nasty,” he said, indicating your palms. “You got a first aid kit?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I help?”

The question made your stomach flutter uneasily. He seemed genuine enough, but he was also a cop, so how could you trust him? But then, he was working with Mare. Mare brought him along to meet with you and other girls. Surely he couldn’t be that bad?

“Yeah, okay. Thank you.” You stepped into your apartment and he followed. Part of you cursed yourself for not cleaning up earlier. There were clothes strewn across the floor and dirty dishes in the sink. It was a studio apartment and there was barely enough room to manoeuvre around the double bed shoved into the corner. “Just give me a sec.”

You gathered up your pyjamas and went into the bathroom. Stripping off your shoes and then your shorts, you took in the extent of the damage. Your fishnets had ripped when you fell, so you threw them in the trash.

Dressed in the loosest, baggiest pyjamas you owned, you stepped back out into the main room. It felt good to be out of your working clothes. Zabel was staring at the photo collage you had stuck to the wall above your bed.

“Hey,” you said, and he jumped.

It was as though he was trying to avoid looking at you. Maybe he was embarrassed about being caught staring earlier. Not that you wanted him to look at you right now. Your make-up was smudged and your pyjamas were baggy and unflattering.

“So is this where you…” He glanced around. “Where you work?”

“I don’t bring clients back to my apartment,” you said, going over to the cabinet under the sink and pulling out your medical box.

“Right. Of course. Sorry.”

You grabbed some antiseptic and some cotton pads and then walked back over to the bed. Wordlessly he took them from you.

“Should we sit down?” you asked.

“Right. Sure.”

You sat down on the edge of the bed and he sat beside you, carefully not touching you. You held out your hand and he grasped your wrist loosely. With an antiseptic soaked pad, he wiped the dirt from the scrapes on your palm. It stung, but you bit your tongue and let him finish. Then he moved to the other hand, which was even more injured.

As soon as the cotton touched it, you hissed in pain and pulled your hand back.

“Sorry!” said Zabel.

“Not your fault,” you said, cradling your hand to your chest. You realised that there were bruises along your wrist and forearm too.

“Can I try something?”

“… Sure?”

Gently, he took your wrist and laid the back of your hand against his knee. With his left hand, he pinned your arm there while he gingerly swabbed at your scrapes with his right. It hurt like hell, but you couldn’t have pulled your arm out of his grip if you tried, so it was over in a matter of seconds.

As soon as he released you, you hugged your arm to your chest again. You were crying. It was very embarrassing.

“Better?” he asked, tactfully not acknowledging your tears.

“Better.”

“Anywhere else hurt?”

“My knees,” you said. He grimaced, and you quickly added, “Not from- I mean- I fell? You know. I fell.”

“Do you want me to help?”

“Yeah, okay.” You pulled up your pyjama leg, revealing your knee, and then swung your leg over to rest across his lap. You didn’t miss his small gasp as you did so. Maybe you were more used to physical contact than he was. You hadn’t considered that he might not have expected you to do that.

You were about to pull your leg away, but he settled a hand just above your knee, holding you in place. With bated breath, you watched him clean your grazed knee. Your eyes watered from the pain, but you kept still.

Finally, after he’d cleaned up the wounds on both knees, he stood up again.

“I should get going. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Everything was starting to ache. You just wanted to lay down. “No, I’m okay. Thank you.”

He hesitated for a moment, and then pulled a small piece of paper and scribbled something down on it. “Here’s my number,” he said, handing it to you. “If you’re ever in trouble, just call me, okay?”

You took the piece of paper. His hand was on the door handle. “Wait.” You wrote your own number on a post-it note and handed it to him.

“You seem stressed,” you said. “Call me if you want my help ‘relaxing’.”

He stared at you. You smiled innocently at him. You were already wondering if this was a mistake. He was a cop. He could arrest you right now.

But he was also cute. And he’d been kind to you. And he worked with Mare.

And you really needed the money.

“Thanks,” he said. His cheeks were flushed bright red. “See you- Uh… Bye.”

“Bye.”

The front door clicked shut behind him and you flopped back onto your bed.

#I am living #For this concept

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