#colin shea x reaader

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crushed 19

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, cheating, sleazy behaviour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your next door neighbours hook up, bringing to surface deep-seated feelings.

Characters: Colin Shea, Jonathan Pine

Note: it's hump day, let's get humped.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like my dog loves belly rubs (that’s a lot). Take care. 💖

Jonathan doesn’t drive you back to your building. Instead, you walk with him through the halls to his condo. You stop outside the door as he slips the bags up to his wrist and unlocks the door. He holds it open and waves you inside. 

You enter, rubbing your arm nervously. It’s been a long day. A long few days. You’re exhausted. You catch a yawn in your hand as you hug yourself with one arm and peer around. 

“I’ll have to go into the office tomorrow. Can’t be avoided much longer,” he explains as he puts the bags on the side table, “you will stay here. To be safe.” 

“Oh, uh, right,” you sway back and forth as you press your palm to the side of your neck, “um, I don’t mind--” 

“I mind,” he interjects, “I can’t trust that animal not to act as what he is. Darling, you must think, yes? Learn from your mistakes. We both know he’s dangerous. I wouldn’t put you in such danger and I would hope you wouldn’t walk right into it.” 

“I know, I wasn’t... I just... I wouldn’t want to impose,” your eyes drift away meekly, “that’s all.” 

“Impose? Have I not made my feelings clear?” He approaches you, brushing his knuckles up your arm, “I cannot get enough of you, fawn.” 

You smile but it’s hard. You feel weak. The day is only half done and you could keel over. He brings his hand up to cradle your cheek, “what is it?” 

“Just tired,” you shrug. 

“Mmm, how about... I’ll run you a nice hot bath. You can relax. We’ve done rather much today... you have been through even more,” he gives a doleful look, “you let me worry for everything. All will turn out, I’m certain.” 

“I guess,” you purse your lips. It’s easy enough for him to say. He still has a job, you’re not so sure you do. 

“Darling,” he brings a bent finger under your chin, tiling your head, “I will take care of you.” 

Your lips part but you quickly close them. You don’t want to argue right now. You don’t want to point out that everything is still fresh and new. Or that he might not feel the same in a month or two. Or a year. Especially if you’re unemployed. 

One day he’ll see how worthless you are. 

“So let’s get that bath going,” he bends to kiss your forehead, “I’ve some bath salts which may help ease the tension. I’ll light a few candles...” he rambles as he turns and strides down the hallway. You follow after him reluctantly, as much as the bath sounds nice, you already feel like a burden. 

You stand in the doorway as you watch him remove his jacket and roll up his sleeves. He fusses over the tub as of you’re not there. The water spills out into the deep porcelain basin and he stands. He turns and gestures to a towel on a silver bar. 

“That is clean,” he says before he opens the tall cupboard near the sink, “bath salt... rose.” 

He reads the canister before he uncaps it. He turns to add a sprinkle to the water, the floral aroma rising with the steam. He sets it aside and beckons you into the bathroom. You cross the tile as you play with the hem of your shirt. 

He brushes past you and you turn to watch him go. You face the tub again and pull up your shirt. You let your pants slip down your legs and as you straighten, you hear him return. He places a three-wick candle on the ledge above the tub and lights it. 

He looks at you, his eyes roving up and down, and he smirks, “I’m almost tempted to join you, darling, but alas, I do have a few things to tend to.” 

“That’s... okay,” you murmur, hugging yourself as you stand in panty and bra.  

He scoffs, “why are you playing shy, eh?” He nears and tickles along your collar bone, sending a shiver through you. 

“I’m not, I’m... cold,” you lie and turn your attention to the tub. 

“Mm, if you need any help warming up,” his fingers flutter up your neck before he retracts his touch, “should you need me, you need only call my name, fawn.” 

“Alright,” you eke out. 

You wait until he’s past you but don’t check to see if he’s gone. You strip down the rest of your clothes and near the tub. You lift your legs over the edge and sink into the water. You sigh as the warmth seeps into you. 

You close your eyes as the water continues to lap down by your feet. You try to let the tension out. You’re thinking too much.  

💔

You button up the shirt Jonathan left for you. You still feel uneasy as you slip into bed but you’re too tired to care. You might be invading his space but he doesn’t seem to mind much. Besides, the hot water has finished you off. You just want to sleep forever. 

Your eyes roll back and you hide from the world. It doesn’t quite fade away, still vaguely present on the other side of your eyelids. That hazy itchiness settles in your head but the fog just won’t thicken to darkness. You’re awake, barely, kept conscious by the nerves rattling in your chest. 

In your stupour, you remain vaguely aware of your unusual surroundings. Despite the threat that lingers on the other side of the walls, you can’t help but miss your apartment. It’s the first space that was truly your own. All that’s ruined.  

You hear a dulcet tone, a low hum that’s soothing a much as it is stirring. You roll onto your side and grumble, peeling open your eyes as your ears prick. Jonathan’s voice precedes him into the room. You blink at him from the bed, curled up under the blankets as your warmth keeps you in place. 

“Yes, I will have her there, never you worry,” he says breezily, “mm, yes, I’ve the time. I’ll add it to my calendar. Shouldn’t be any issue.” As you watch him, he meets your gaze and his brows flick up as he grins, “thanks, Eugenia, can’t wait. Yes, you have a wonderful night.” 

He pulls the phone away from his ear and you recognise the case and the cracked protector. It’s yours. What the heck? You sit up and reach instinctively for him. 

“Hey, that’s my phone,” you accuse. 

“Yes, it was ringing and I thought you asleep. It was only your mother,” he drops the phone on the bed next to you. “I could hardly answer between messages from that pest you call a neighbour.” 

“What?” You grasp the cell and slide it closer. 

“She only wanted to confirm the time for the engagement party next weekend. You can wear one of your new dresses,” he explains as he goes to the wall mirror and checks his reflection, smoothing his hair before he unbuttons his collar. He works a path down the row and the fabric slackens around his shoulders. “I’ve made certain to make record of each message that creature sends. We may just need to consult authorities.” 

“Colin? I—I blocked him.” 

“Please do not say his name. It’s absolutely hideous, isn’t it?” He faces you as he shrugs off his shirt. “It seems he has found an alternative, that chit he keeps around.” 

“Ally?” You wonder. 

“Mmm, is that her name,” he drones as he dumps his shirt into the hamper. “Well, we needn’t worry about them much longer.” 

He continues to undress as you pull yourself up against the pillows. Things just keep happening and you can’t keep up. You look up as he wears nothing but his short cotton boxers and nears the bed. You peek down at your phone and put it on the night table to right of the bed. 

“I do think you should call your landlord and give notice sooner than later,” he climbs onto the foot of the bed. 

“Notice?” You echo in confusion, “why--” 

“You cannot go back, darling, it’s not safe,” he tugs at the blanket, pulling it away from your body, “I cannot in good conscience let you return.” 

“But I—we can just let things mellow out, right? Colin will get over it--” 

“I told you,” he grabs your ankle, “do not utter his name at me.” 

He pulls you so you fall flat on your back. You throw your arms out and gasp as your head bounces onto the mattress. He separates your legs and perches between them. You lift yourself on your elbows, breathless, and stare at him. 

“I can’t stay forever--” 

“Did I ever say that?” He challenges, his blue eyes blazing up at you. 

“No, but--” 

“I understand things have escalated quickly, fawn, but we will figure it all out. I will be certain to clarify everything at the office, let them know it was simply not your doing,” his eyes cling to your face and narrow before slowly descending. 

He glides his hands up your legs, crawling closer on his knees. He slides his touch beneath the loose shirt and tickles your naked skin. He sends a chill through you that speckles hotly. He feels your body, running his hands up and your torso as you quiver. 

He slips his hands above the fabric as he kneels between your thighs. He unbuttons the shirt to your belly button, unveiling your chest and bending to dote on it. He cups one side as his mouth explores the other; nipping and nuzzle. You let out a pathetic noise as you cradle the back of his head. 

You arch your back as his warmth draws you in and chases away your doubts. His long fingers soothe you and his intensity overpowers you. As much as this man has you uncertain, you cannot resist him. It feels nice to be wanted even if it isn’t who you wanted. 

💔

Once more, you fall asleep in the afterglow of Jonathan’s attentions. How easily he can obfuscate your fears and doubts. How his touch can so easily distract you from the things that might keep you awake.  

The weight of his arm settles over you, holding you to him, his hard long body coiled around yours. He keeps a leg curled between yours as his hot breath seeps into your scalp. You’re content, you’re safe. 

Your sleep is only disturbed as he untangles himself carefully from you. You don’t rouse entirely, clinging to the pillow and dregs of fatigue. He tucks the blanket under your figure and the bed shifts with the absences of his weight. His scent lingers behind him. 

You sink back down and fall flat on your back, spreading out across the mattress. The late night lull settles over you, lulling you down as the distant drone of Jonathan’s lilted voice further coaxes you. You moan through your slumber and roll onto his side, longing for him to return. 

You blink and the blue digits of the clock have changed. Twenty minutes and he’s still not back. You shiver and flutter your eyelashes, rubbing your cheeks as you force yourself awake. You sit up dizzily, you can still hear him. 

You shimmy to the edge of the bed and stand. You hug yourself as a shiver washes over your naked flesh. The button-up is lost somewhere in the bedding. You put your feet down softly as you pad across the room, following his timbre as it come between sharper tones. 

You creep out into the hall, a bluish glow drawing you in. You follow the cool hardwood to the front room and hide in the dim as you squint. Jonathan has his phone in hand, the screen alight as his profile is limned in its shine. He watches it intently as you recognise the voice chirping from the speaker. 

“That’s so lovely, dear, hope we can see you soon,” his mother chimes. 

You waver on your feet. Oh, you shouldn’t listen. 

“Will she be coming?” His father’s gristly accent comes through. 

You pause before you can back up. Jonathan clicks his tongue, “yes, I think so.” 

“Jon,” his mother titters, “oh, that’s so exciting! That’s... big.” 

“Eh, yes, don’t think you ever let us meet one of the birds,” he father chides. 

“Father, she’s not... don’t call her that,” Jonathan rebukes. 

“I’m teasing, yeah?” The elder Pine chortles, “you’re gonna have to warn her about us. If that place has made you so soft, I shouldn’t want to scare the girl.” 

“Father,” Jonathan utters once more, “she’s... not... She’s perfect.” 

His mom squeals and giggles. You gulp and press yourself against the wall. What is he talking about? He’s talking about taking you somewhere. To his home? That’s a far way. Something he should probably ask you first. His mother is entirely correct; that’s big. His compliments cannot counteract the shock of his one-sided decision. 

You sidle along the hallway, careful not to place your feet too heavily. As you near the bedroom, your elbow hits the frame and the thump casts silence through the apartment. Shoot. 

You peer toward the front room and see Jonathan’s shadow closing in. He must have heard your misstep. You quickly flit into the room and ease into the bed. You pull the blankets over you and turn your back to the door. Your heart is racing. 

You sense him in the doorway, watching you. Silent. 

“Everything okay, son?” His father asks. 

“Yes, it’s... fine,” Jonathan answers, “I’ll let you go. Wouldn’t want to wake her.” 

“Oh yes, get some sleep,” his mother insists, “love ya.” 

“Night, son.” 

Jonathan crosses the room and you hear his phone meet the table on his side of the bed. The mattress dips as he climbs in and pulls the blanket over himself, nestling in close to you. He sighs and hums as he hugs you to him once more. 

You lay, frozen and silent, praying he can’t feel your pulse. 

“Did I wake you?” He whispers and kisses your crown. 

You force a groan from your throat and feign grogginess, “hmm, oh, no...” You wiggle into the mattress and yawn, putting your hand over his. 

“Back to sleep, darling,” he purrs as he nuzzles you.  

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