#( interactions )

Warnings: this is fem reader - the reader is described as a woman, has breasts and a vagina, and is described as wearing a dress, and mentions of her wearing make-up; use of Y/N (as I have said, you can pry this term out of my cold, dead hands, and you should get a word replacer extension of you don't have one already); mentions of 'party culture'; mentions of drinking (and it could be underage - I imagine that this is their first year of college and they are 18/19 and the stupid drinking age in America is 21); mentions of smoking weed; HOWEVER none of the characters are intoxicated while having sex and they are not too intoxicated to consent (even if it mentions them drinking, they only have one drink, and this is not about drunk sex); mention of the reader character being someone who drinks alcohol - but like I said, she is not intoxicated during the fic; mentions of masturbation; aspects of Ray x Reader (but it's just a flirtation/probably just be one sided from Ray); Collie and the reader are in love; Collie thinks about wanting to marry the reader and the reader thinks of Collie as her 'future husband'; breast groping; tiddy sucking; praise kink; and as the request says: pussy eating/oral. I think that's it.

A/N: Also idk if this matters to anyone, but I was listening to Rhythm of Your Heart by Marianas Trench on repeat while writing this and it largely inspired the vibes. But yeah, I love Collie so much and I really wanted to write something about him. There is just something about a character who is homesick falling in love with a girl who feels like home. Also - this was supposed to be done yesterday but I started it and then I got too tired to finish it, and I was a bit too tired when I was trying to finish it now, and I didn't want to spend a third day working on it because I have told myself that requests are supposed to be a quick exploration of ideas. So - here you go.

...

Collie Parker hated parties. 

Typically he wouldn’t be caught dead at one of these things, even though it was being hosted at his own house. It’s not like he didn’t like fun - it’s not like he was some straight edged asshole who was against drinking and drugs. (Not even Art Baker was like that…) - Collie was the type of person who vastly preferred hanging around a bonfire with the guys (and maybe a few other choice, cool people) sharing a joint and a few beers and having s’mores and telling dumb stories instead of… this. 

He hated the noise. He hated the crowd of people that flooded the house who were inevitably not invited - strangers going in and out, acting like they belonged here. He hated everyone being packed in like sardines, tight and sweaty and somehow pretending that it was fun. Even if he sometimes liked dancing, he certainly didn’t enjoy squeezing himself through a crowd of random people, and he usually hated the music that McVries or Olson demanded be put on, especially when played at such an indecent volume. 

(And he couldn’t even bear to think about the mess - the bottles, cans, and other general grime that would be left around for them in the morning. Sometimes mixed with vomit, used condoms, and stray bits of clothing from strangers if things got particularly out of hand. Nobody cared about leaving a mess at a house that wasn’t even theirs.) 

But of course - it was Garraty’s birthday, so everyone in the house needed a dumb excuse to throw another party. 

Collie would have fled and found some excuse to be elsewhere if it weren’t for you. If you hadn’t insisted on hanging out to celebrate Ray’s birthday with him, and wrangled Collie in to ‘be a good sport’. There had been many jokes about Collie being ‘whipped’ for you when he came downstairs dressed for the party - wearing a pair of light jeans ripped at the knee (from being worn out over time rather than an intentional style), a black Beatles tee shirt with sleeves cut off, his usual necklace, and a pair of black converse, his hair loose and long over his shoulders as usual. 

When you came in wielding a bottle of wine as a gift for Garraty (knowing that he didn’t like beer), looking as gorgeous as ever in your short floral dress and your knee high brown boots, and you kissed Collie on the cheek, complimenting how he looked - Olson began silently making whip motions over your shoulder where you couldn’t see and Stebbins pointed at him and then made a cradle motion with his arms, clearly calling him a baby. They were driving home the irony that before, he couldn’t shut up about how much he hated parties, and now, he was attending one just because you had suggested it. 

Because the thing was - even if you were the love of his life, you weren’t exactly his girlfriend. 

You and Collie Parker first met before either of you could walk. You both grew up in the same community in Sioux Falls, and he was your best friend for as long as you could remember. He was your first boyfriend on the playground when that meant nothing more than holding hands during recess and him always getting the chocolate pudding off your lunch tray on Thursdays and you getting the cookie off his lunch tray on Tuesdays. The two of you got ‘married’ by one of your friends under a big willow tree, and all your onlooking friends giggled and squealed in embarrassment when you shared a sweet peck of a kiss to bind your ‘marriage’ at the time. 

It had been the most devastating day of his life when you moved away. You were both barely thirteen and your father got a job in another state, meaning that you were moving too damn far away, and he still felt a horrible pain in his chest when he thought about the day he had been forced to say goodbye to you - the car packed full, idling in wait to take you away, you clutching tightly onto him and not wanting to let go, crying into his shoulder so hard that his then much shorter hair stuck to your tear stained cheeks. He sent you off with a gentle, sweet kiss and a beaded bracelet that he had made for you to remember him by, and he thought he would never see you again after that day. 

And a month into his first year of college, he saw a wrist wearing that same beaded bracelet peeking through the shelves of the library, and he almost fainted, believing that he was seeing things. When he walked around the shelf and saw you - he thought that he was looking at a ghost. A very beautiful, matured, perfect, gorgeous ghost. 

But he had to know that it wasn’t a dream or a hallucination - because you were so perfectly you, but you were older. You looked like the perfect girl that he had said goodbye to on that day, but you had grown into such a gorgeous woman - your expression thoughtful as you stared down at a book you had picked out, a bit of makeup painting your features, your body fuller in a way that drove him insane. In a blink, all those feelings came rushing back. And if not for brute self control, he likely would have crumbled to the ground and melted into that terrible, old, worn down library carpet. 

“Y/N?” He called out, his voice quiet, almost terrified to break through the haze if it was a dream. 

You looked up, and your face went from confusion to shock. And then, after a moment that felt too anxiously long, joy flooded your features. 

“Collie!” You squealed, uncaring how loud you were being in the library. You dropped the book and ran toward him and he shed his backpack off his shoulder to catch you, squeezing you so tightly, putting everything into that hug - years of missing you, holding you so tight and never wanting to let you go again. “Collie Parker! Oh my god it’s you!” 

Holding you so tight, smelling your hair, knowing that it was you - being in that school in that state, so far away from what he knew, holding you felt like coming home. 

“It’s a library, shut up!” Someone else called out. 

You covered your mouth tightly in embarrassment, and if Collie hadn’t been so overjoyed at seeing you, he likely would have said something to that asshole. 

“I can’t believe you’re here, oh my god.” You said, your voice much softer now as you smiled at him with absolute joy, hesitant to pull away from the hug - his arms still on your waist and one of your hands on his shoulder. “Your hair is so long now, and you have such big arms - I mean, you’re so strong.” You shuddered in embarrassment again, unsure if the compliment was too forward. “You look amazing.” 

“You too.” He said, grinning. “You look perfect. You’re so beautiful.” 

You looked down shyly at this, and you quickly reshelved whatever you had been looking at and insisted that he get coffee with you to catch up. That coffee turned into dinner and then he invited you to see the house where he lived, and the two of you stayed up all night talking. You talked about anything and everything, reminiscing about your childhood, catching up on things that had happened since then, splaying out every detail of your lives and even then talking about how you wanted life to be. He couldn’t be more overjoyed at the fact that the friendship the two of you had was more solid than ever, and the way your spirits intertwined never faded away. 

Everything was still so natural between the two of you. Even though he had missed you for all those years, it was flawless, picking up right where you left off. 

There was just that new issue to deal with - the mounting sexual tension. The way that innocent playground love now made his cock rock hard at a moment’s notice, and you were more gorgeous than ever, along with being sweet, and smart, and funny, and kind and caring, and easy to talk to, and though previously he had never imagined himself with that stereotypical life, whenever he thought about his future, he now saw that stupid white picket fence house and children with you. (Though more realistically, it was probably a cabin in the mountains and two dogs, but still - in his mind both of you were wearing wedding rings and fucking like rabbits, and he could never ignore that part.) 

Collie was in love with you. That he absolutely couldn’t deny. But he also thought that ‘making a move on you’ would be a huge mistake if it meant fucking things up with his best friend in the whole world, especially after just getting you back. 

So in the meantime, he just made his cock raw jacking off to thoughts of you and treated you the best he could - taking you on dates that weren’t really ‘dates’, and he always made you a priority in life whenever he could. And now, he was at this stupid fucking party because you had asked him to attend. 

Way too loud, way too many people, and worst of all - he had gone away for two seconds, turned around for a minute to make you another Tequila Sunrise (which he had recently found out was your favourite drink - that was one of his new favourite things: finding out new things about you). And when he turned back, you were talking with him. Yes, it was his birthday - it was Garraty’s stupid birthday, but you had already wished him a Happy Birthday and given him the bottle of wine earlier that evening. 

Why the fuck would you need to be talking to him now? 

“What the fuck is that?” Collie growled out loudly, talking to no one in particular. 

“Oh - Olson called it AFM.” Barkovitch slurred drunkenly beside him, standing in front of the table that was filled with booze, pouring himself some kind of rancid concoction. “It means Adios, Mother Fucker. It’s just every drink mixed together. You want one?” 

“Fuck - no.” Collie sighed, giving Barkovitch a sharp sideways look. “That sounds disgusting. And I meant - what is that?” He emphasized, gesturing across the room toward you and Ray. 

You were letting out a bright giggle, your smile perfect as usual, and Ray’s hand was snaking around your waist - god, he always got so handsy when he was drunk. Collie flared with anger, keeping his eyes locked on the scene, hating it so much, but somehow, unable to look away. 

Barkovitch turned to look, and Collie’s anger stewed into a horrible rage when he let out an annoying, terrible laugh. 

“Oh shit.” He said, his voice airy and amused. “Garraty is puttin’ the moves on your girl. I’m surprised he’s being so ballsy, cause I mean - I wouldn’t wanna fuck with you like that.” 

Barkovitch took a sip of his drink and then let out a cough at how strong it was, and Collie clenched his jaw, unconsciously grinding his teeth. 

Because that was the thing - you weren’t really his girl. 

He couldn’t fault you for flirting with someone else, as much as he hated it. He didn’t own you. He would look like an idiot if he went over there and punched Garraty’s lights out. He would look like a petty, stupid idiot. 

He was trying to breathe through the feeling, trying to calm down, and then- 

Garraty kissed you. 

Collie crushed the plastic cup he was holding in his hand without even thinking about it, and your Tequila Sunrise ended up all over his shoes. He then turned abruptly and stomped off, knowing that if he didn’t get far away from here, he would have ended up collecting a few of Garraty’s teeth. He stomped on the stairs like he was trying to kill them, making a noise that somehow layered over the music, and your head whipped around to look - somehow, deep in your gut, knowing that it was Collie, and that he was upset for some reason. 

Ray raised a hand to the side of your cheek and tried to pull you back into the kiss, but you shrugged him off, not even caring to give him an excuse as you wove through the crowd in the room, going toward the stairs to see if you could spot Collie or if you were just being paranoid. 

“Shit, you really fucked up.” Barkovitch appeared beside you as you stood at the bottom of the stairs, craning your neck curiously, and you became distracted by his words, looking toward him. 

“What?” You hissed, entirely confused. 

“Mackin’ on Ray right in front of your man,” He said, slightly drunken mumbling, vague and confusing. “What’s up with that?” 

“My man?” You posed. And then it clicked. “Collie? He saw - oh my god.” 

You ran up the stairs before Barkovitch could answer, seeking out Collie’s room, not surprised to find his door tightly closed. 

He was face down on his bed, angry hot tears wilting into his pillow while he squeezed it against his face, that horrible crushing feeling in his chest, the one he hadn’t felt since the day he had been forced to say goodbye to you. He hated it. He hated being in love. 

When he heard a knock on the door, his intense anger flared up again and though he was tempted to ignore it, he popped up out of the bed and wretched the door open with intensity, screaming at whoever was in the hallway before he even saw them. 

“WHAT?!” 

He hated that it was you - that his booming, angered voice immediately made you flinch. Guilt washed over him, and though he was still upset, he took a heaving breath, and his next words came out much gentler. 

“What do you want?” 

“I want to talk to you.” You said, your voice running with an undercurrent of upset yourself, which deeply surprised him. 

Being used to catering to your whims, he stepped aside so naturally when you stepped into the room, and he found himself falling back to sit on the bed with a huff, folding his arms tightly over his chest in an effort to protect himself. You closed the bedroom door, drowning out most of the noise from downstairs and leaning against it while you looked at him with intense, sad eyes. 

“Shouldn’t you be downstairs with Ray?” He hissed quietly, the name horrid on his lips, his voice saturated with pettiness. “I’m sure you can find some way to help him celebrate his birthday.” 

You rolled your eyes at this. Was he accusing you of being a whore or something? Why was he so mad? 

“It was just a dumb little kiss - why are you so upset?” You asked, your voice utterly exasperated. 

“Because you used to kiss me!” He shouted, tears straining at his throat. 

The expression on his face was so pained, and it truly hit you then - he was jealous. He was truly, deeply hurt. 

It clutched at your stomach - you hated to see him hurting. You cared for him so deeply, but you thought that he only saw you as a friend. 

“Yeah, when we were kids.” You countered quietly. 

“Didn’t that matter to you?” He asked, his voice shaking slightly. 

You wanted to add on something about how much things had changed - how you believed that things had changed so much since then. But you both knew that things had changed because you grew into that love - not because you grew out of it. And maybe that was why you had let Ray kiss you… because you needed to test it, you needed to feel it with someone else to know if the intense chemistry that you felt whenever you were alone with Collie was just pent up sexual frustration, or if it was the real, glowing thing. 

And looking at him now - seeing that quiver in his lip and wanting nothing more than to take him in your arms and make it all better - fuck, you really thought that it was. It had to be real. 

But was it real for him? 

“Just - I know it’s stupid,” He sighed, almost breathless from the sobs that were desperate to escape. “But I thought - I thought you were mine.” 

You couldn’t help it, then - you practically jumped across the room and grabbed him by both sides of the face, smothering him in a kiss. A kiss that was infinitely more intense and passionate than the sloppy, wine drunk one you had shared with Ray downstairs. This was a spectacular kiss - this was a kiss that you had waited a lifetime for. 

This was every single piece of your life falling so perfectly into place - this was you kissing the love of your life for the first time when you were both truly mature enough to respect it. You climbed into his lap with urgency and Collie’s arms encircled your waist with intense possessiveness, and he moaned into your mouth while your fingers combed through his hair, holding him tightly to your mouth while you grinned against him. 

“Please,” You breathed against his lips, just barely pulling away. “Please, Collie - I want to be yours more than anything. Make me yours.” 

“You are mine, pretty girl.” He returned, his voice just as breathless. “You’ve always been mine. Even when we weren’t together - you still had my whole fucking heart.” 

You smiled so brightly at this, glad to know that he was so sure in the relationship, panging slightly to know that he had missed you so much (but also flattered to know that he had missed you just as much as you had missed him). You pecked him on the lips again and then leaned back slightly, grabbing at the hem of your dress and lifting it off over your head cleanly, tossing it to the side, revealing a matching bra and panty set. (Were you just someone with a good lingerie collection - or had you been expecting this? Hoping for this? Who knows.) 

His eyes scanned over you with near rabid hunger, his teeth digging into his lip as his thick brows so perfectly framed the look of maddening lust on his face. You were so fucking perfect and he was the luckiest man on earth to be in your presence right now. 

“No, I mean - take me, have me.” You said, your breath utterly frantic and needy as you reached behind your back and undid your bra, ripping it down your arms and tossing that aside too. You placed your hands on his, bringing them up from your thighs and sliding them up your heated skin, assisting him in groping your now bare breasts, which he quickly got into, kneading the flesh with eager, greedy, but still gentle movements while he continued to look you in the eyes, his breath starting to come out in thick pants as he was consumed by his own lust. “Make me yours, Collie Parker.” 

“You know what you’re asking for?” He posed. “Once I start, I won’t be able to stop. You’re so perfect - I won’t be able to take myself away from you… it’s okay if you’re not ready.” 

You didn’t want to tell him that you weren’t some withering flower - that you had lost your virginity to another guy who meant almost nothing to you and knew almost nothing about what he was doing. You didn’t want his jealousy to flare up again. But it meant that you were ready to fuck him now. You were ready to make love to your future husband now. 

“I’m more than ready.” You told him, your voice edging on a whine as he flicked over one of your nipples with his thumb. “I’ve been waiting too long for you. Please don’t make me wait any longer, Collie.” 

Collie smothered your mouth with his once again, moving his arms around you again, putting a hand in the middle of your back, cradling you with the utmost care and putting the other hand on your ass to help him along as he used the strength in his legs to flip you over, putting you fully on the bed on your back underneath him (getting a pretty heavy grope in along the way, squeezing your ass with intense greed filling him now that he was allowed to truly have you, all of you). You let out a delighted squeal at this and he smiled against your mouth, and when he pulled away from the kiss and took a good look at you, feeling so floaty and dreamy with how absolutely perfect you looked underneath him, laid out in his bed for him, he noticed that you were still wearing your boots, and he kissed down your thighs to the knee on both sides as he undid the long zippers for you, helping you out of them in the most gentlemanly way that made butterflies tingle through your stomach. 

His lips were so gentle on you, yet so passionate - each spark of his lips against your skin flaring perfect heat through your body, especially as the softness of his hair brushed along your skin on the way, creating a gentle tickle of a touch that made you gasp and writhe against the sheets even though he had barely touched you. 

By the time he hooked his hands into the top of your underwear to take them off, your pussy was thrumming with need and the fabric was visibly wet as he pulled it off you. You were surprised that he didn’t take off his own clothes, but he seemed to be too busy focusing on you - he gave you another long, languid kiss on the mouth before he kissed down your neck, and his hair brushed softly over your chest in a cascade as he sucked one of your nipples into his mouth. 

He moaned around your tit, seemingly caught up in the pleasure of touching your body, high on the act of loving you. You arched against him, moaning out hot breaths as your eyes fell closed, your fingers knitting into his hair again, not even coming close to taming the long locks but needing something to hold onto. It was pure electricity, causing a sharp humming between your thighs and he hadn’t even touched you there. 

“Oh, fuck!” You moaned out, rubbing your thighs together, desperate for friction - you thought that you could feel your own wetness leaking out, smearing everywhere, but how was that possible? No man had ever had this effect on you before. 

“So fucking perfect.” He hummed against your skin, seemingly letting the words flow out of him in his lustful madness more than talking to you with intention. “So gorgeous. Such a pretty girl - all mine.” 

He kissed across to your other breast and began lavishing your other tit with just as much attention, sending mini shockwaves through you as he gently nibbled on your flesh, definitely not hard enough to leave marks, but his teeth scraping on your skin sending sparks through your whole body. 

“Touch me,” You begged, your voice already so broken, so fucked out. “Touch me, please!” 

“I am touching you.” He chuckled, a gentle mocking in his voice. He laid his head gently against your breast and looked up at you, his eyes full of love and mischief at the same time. 

“Collie,” You choked out, half begging, half warning - something that truly struck a cord with him as it reminded him of times during your childhood when he had been crossing a rushing river on tall rocks and you had warned him that it was dangerous or you had called after him for climbing too high up in a tree. 

Of course, there was no danger now. It was just that same tone - a warning because you hated him for taunting you with his sense of mischief. 

You always knew just how to get what you wanted out of him. You always had him wrapped around your finger. 

“What? You want me to touch your pretty pussy?” He teased, tucking his hand between your thighs, gently brushing his fingers along your wet folds. 

You gasped and seized up into the touch - the slightest bit of contact lighting up your whole body because of how much he had built it up, how well he had played your body to turn it into intense pleasure for you. 

“Please!” You called out. 

He grinned into your skin. 

“I wanna taste you.” 

Once again, this was a quiet mumble more to himself, and you barely registered what it meant through your lust chugging brain before he had descended down your body with a few more kisses across your stomach and pelvis, and then - he parted your thighs with his hands and laid a sweet kiss on your mound, causing your whole body to seize toward him as you let out another sharp gasp. In the back of his head, he thought about putting his hair back so it wouldn’t be in his way, but he did not have the patience to find one of the many (often lost) hair ties that he owned, and instead he tried to hoist the wild mane back over his shoulders (completely in vain) before he hoisted his legs over your shoulders and began lavishing more light, sweet kisses across your wet, needy pussy. 

Your hips jolted toward him, your stomach fluttering at how gentle he was being, almost in disbelief that he wanted to kiss your pussy with as much sweetness and care that he kissed your lips. He loved every inch of you, and he was going to show it. 

He let out a moan as he finally pushed his tongue out stiff enough to part your swollen folds, seeking out your clit like a magnet and bounding the swollen bead on his tongue, licking up your wetness as he became drunk on your taste, loving the heat of your pussy and the perfection of your moans in the air, better than any shitty music bouncing on the floor beneath the two of you. 

He sucked on your clit hard and then gave it a few more small, sweet kisses, causing your hips to buck up - and he loved the feeling of your hips practically slamming into his face. He loved the feeling of having to pin you down. 

“So fucking good,” He growled, deep in the back of his throat. “So perfect.” He kissed the inside of your thigh, his breath coming out across your skin in hot puffs. “Never gonna let you again.” 

“Never,” You moaned back, your voice quivering. “I’m yours.”

...

Note - I don't typically do 'Part 2's for fics, especially not short ones like this that I just write on the fly, and I find it kind of rude when people ask for a second part right after reading something instead of just commenting on what has already been written.

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