A Drive in The Right Direction / Collie Parker x Reader
Notes: I had a free day today, and I decided more Collie Parker. I got an idea for Hank later down the line that I would like to flesh out. But letting ya'll know. It's a little spicy ;) wink wink nudge. I read and reread. @tsuumamii this one is for you. I finished it. Its a little different I tried. Rewrote a handful.
The road stretched out before them, a silver ribbon under the soft glow of the dashboard lights. The hum of the engine was steady, almost soothing, broken only by the occasional whisper of wind against the windows.
Collie’s hand rested on the gearshift, his thumb tracing small, absent circles against the leather. Every so often, his fingers brushed against hers—accidentally at first, or at least that’s what they told themselves.
(Y/N) leaned her head against the seat, watching the dark blur of trees outside. “You drive like you’re trying to break the speed barrier.” She remarked albeit quietly.
He huffed a low laugh. “Maybe I am.”
She turned her gaze to him, her profile bathed in passing streaks of streetlight. He looked different in this half-light—calmer, softer—but the tension between them still thrummed, unspoken but alive.
When she reached over and laid her hand on his, his fingers froze for a heartbeat before turning palm-up, catching hers like it was the most natural thing in the world. The silence that followed wasn’t awkward; it was thick with meaning, with everything they hadn’t yet said out loud.
His thumb brushed the inside of her wrist, slow and deliberate. “You know,” he murmured, eyes still on the road, “if I stop this car right now…”
She smiled faintly with a sparkle in her eye. “You won’t.” Teasing him.
He glanced over, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. “You sure about that?”
The air seemed to shift, heavy and fragile all at once. Her pulse quickened, and for a moment, the world shrank to just the quiet hum of the engine, his hand around hers, the warmth that lived somewhere between them—waiting, wanting, not quite crossing the line.
The light from the dashboard painted his skin in soft amber as his thumb traced one last, slow path across her knuckles. She didn’t pull away. Neither did he.
The night held its breath around them.
The highway thinned into a quiet stretch of back road, the kind where the world felt emptied out and suspended between heartbeats. Collie’s fingers tightened around the wheel, jaw working as if he was trying to decide something and couldn’t. Then, without a word, he flicked on the blinker and pulled into an empty abandoned lot. The engine idled low, the air between them electric.
Neither moved at first. The only sound was the faint tick of the cooling metal and the echo of their own breathing. Then he turned toward her. The look in his eyes wasn’t careful anymore.
“Come here,” he said softly.
When she leaned in, it was all slow and inevitable. His hand came up to her face, thumb tracing her cheek like he was memorizing her. The kiss started tentative, then deepened, pulling every ounce of that restrained energy into motion. She could feel the weight of everything unsaid in it—weeks of glances, almosts, and careful platonic and non-platonic touches burning away.
He drew back just enough to rest his forehead against hers. His voice was low, unsteady. His breathing faltered. Hesitant, yet confident. “You have no idea how much I love you. How long I’ve wanted to do this.” With you, his thoughts might as well been words spoken.
Her breath hitched, fingers curling in his jacket. “I do,” she whispered. “Trust me, I've been feeling the same way.” All the damn time, she thinks.
For a long moment, neither spoke. The world outside the car was quiet, unreal, like it didn’t dare intrude. Then he brushed a strand of hair from her face, searching her eyes for something—permission, maybe, or reassurance that this wasn’t a dream.
“Come back with me,” he exclaimed, his face close to hers. Lips brushing her cheek.
She nodded, a small, certain motion. Maybe with a hint of excitement.
When he started the engine again, his hand found hers on the console, lacing their fingers together. The silence wasn’t empty anymore. It hummed with promise.
The drive back felt different, the back road unfolding like a secret they now shared. Collie's grip on her hand was firm yet gentle, his thumb occasionally stroking the back of her knuckles in a rhythm that matched the steady thrum of her heartbeat. The dashboard lights cast a warm glow over his profile, highlighting the subtle tension in his jaw that had eased into something softer, more open.
(Y/N) watched him from the corner of her eye, the confession still echoing in her mind like a melody she couldn't shake. The air in the car was warmer now, charged with the aftertaste of that kiss—the way his lips had pressed against hers, tentative at first, then starved, as if he'd been holding back a storm.
As they merged onto the quieter streets leading to his place, he slowed the car, pulling into the driveway with a deliberate ease. The engine cut off, leaving only the soft click of the keys and the distant hum of crickets outside. He didn't let go of her hand right away, turning to face her fully in the dim light filtering through the windshield.
"Inside?" he asked, his voice a low murmur, eyes searching hers with that same intensity from the parking lot.
She nodded, her free hand reaching up to trace the line of his jaw, feeling the faint stubble under her fingertips. The touch sent a shiver through her, and she saw the way his breath caught, his pupils dilating in the low light.
They stepped out into the cool night air, the gravel crunching softly under their feet as he led her to the door. His arm brushed against hers, a deliberate closeness that made her skin tingle. Inside, the house was quiet, lit only by the faint glow of a lamp in the living room that he'd left on earlier. The space felt intimate, lived-in—books stacked on the coffee table, a throw blanket draped over the couch.
Collie closed the door behind them, the sound echoing softly. He turned to her, stepping closer until the space between them was mere inches. His hands found her waist, pulling her gently against him, and she could feel the warmth of his body through their clothes, the steady rise and fall of his chest.
"I've thought about this," he confessed, his forehead resting against hers again, voice rough with emotion. "About you, here, with me. Every night." His fingers splayed across her back, tracing slow circles that made her arch slightly into him.
Her hands slid up his chest, feeling the muscle beneath his shirt, the rapid beat of his heart. "Me too," she whispered, tilting her head to brush her lips against his jaw. The contact was light, teasing, but it ignited something in him—his grip tightened, and he captured her mouth in another kiss, deeper this time, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips until she parted them with a soft sigh.
They moved together toward the couch, never breaking apart, his hands roaming her sides, thumbs grazing the underside of her breasts through her shirt. She tugged at his jacket, helping him shrug it off, her fingers then deftly working at the bottom hem of his shirt, exposing the planes of his chest inch by inch.
He broke the kiss only to trail his lips down her neck, nipping gently at the sensitive skin there, eliciting a quiet gasp from her. "Tell me if it's too much," he murmured against her collarbone, even as his hands slipped under her shirt, palms warm and calloused against her bare skin.
"It's not," she breathed, her own hands exploring the ridges of his abdomen, feeling him tense under her touch. "Don't worry. I want this. I want you."
The words seemed to unravel him further. He lifted her shirt over her head, tossing it aside, his eyes darkening in a mischievous gleam as he took her in. Then he pressed his lips on hers again, guiding her down onto the couch, his body covering hers in a protective, possessive weight. Their legs tangled, her thigh pressing against the growing hardness in his jeans, and he groaned softly into her mouth.
Time slowed, each touch deliberate, each breath shared. His fingers traced the lace of her bra, hooking under it to push it up and over, exposing her to the cool air and his heated gaze. He lowered his head, mouth closing over one nipple, tongue swirling in slow, languid circles that made her back arch and her hands tangle in his hair.
"Collie," she whispered, the sound of his name a plea and a promise.
He looked up, eyes locked on hers, his hand sliding down to the button of her jeans. "Let me show you," he said, his voice gruff and low. "How much I mean it."
She nodded, lifting her hips to help him, the anticipation building like the tension had all night—slow, inevitable, and utterly consuming.
He leaned in, capturing her lips again a moment that started slow, exploratory, but quickly deepened as restraint gave way. His hand slid to the nape of her neck, fingers threading through her hair, tilting her head to angle the kiss just right. She melted into him, her body responding instinctively—pressing closer, her hands roaming over his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath her palm.
They broke apart only when breathing became necessary, foreheads resting together again. Collie's hand trailed down her arm, then to her waist, pulling her onto his lap in a fluid motion. She straddled him, knees sinking into the cushions on either side of his hips, the heat of him seeping through their clothes.
"Tell me if you want to stop," he breathed, even as his hips shifted slightly, bringing them into closer alignment.
She shook her head laughing a little, hands reaching to lift his shirt off completely. "Trust me, Collie. I don't." Little by little, revealing a small happy trail, dusted with dark hair. She threw the fabric aside, palms gliding over his skin, savoring the warmth and the way he shivered under her touch.
Collie's hands mirrored hers, his calloused hands mapping the bare skin of her back. His touch was reverent, exploring the curve of her spine, the dip of her waist, before sliding up to cup her breasts. He thumbed her nipples gently, drawing a soft gasp from her lips. The sound seemed to undo him; he captured her mouth again, the kiss turning more urgent, more recklessly indulgent as they tangled themselves together.
She rocked against him, feeling the hard length of his arousal straining against his jeans, and a thrill shot through her. His hands moved to her hips, guiding her movements, encouraging the slow grind that built friction between them. Every shift sent sparks racing up her spine, her core aching with need.
"God, (Y/N)," he groaned against her neck, lips brushing her pulse point before nipping lightly. "You feel incredible."
She arched into him, fingers digging into his shoulders as she whispered, "I want you, Collie. All of you." The words hung in the air, raw and honest, sealing the shift from confession to consummation.
He stood then, lifting her with him effortlessly, her legs wrapping around his waist. The short walk to the bedroom was a haze of kisses and wandering hands, clothes shedding along the way—her top was long discarded in the entrance hallway, his shirt left on the floor somewhere out there.
The room was simple, dominated by a large bed with rumpled sheets that smelled faintly of him. He lowered her onto it gently, following her down, his body covering hers in yet again protective, possessive weight. They paused there, gazes locked, breaths mingling, as if savoring the precipice before the fall. She gave a gentle smile, her hand brushing the hair out of his face.
Then, with deliberate slowness, Collie hooked his fingers into the waistband of her pants, easing them down her legs along with her underwear. She kicked them free, vulnerability mixing with desire as she lay bare before him. He took her in, eyes darkening with hunger, before shedding the rest of his own clothes—jeans and boxers pooling at the foot of the bed.
Naked now, skin to skin, fully vulnerable, he settled between her thighs, his erection pressing hot and insistent against her inner thigh. His hand traced her body—over her collarbone, down to tease her breasts, pinching a nipple until she moaned—before dipping lower. Fingers parted her folds, finding her slick and ready, circling her clit with feather-light pressure that made her hips buck.
Collie paused his motions, his palm pressing flat against her stomach, feeling the warmth of her skin and the subtle rise of her breaths. He looked up at her, eyes dark and intent, waiting for that final nod of affirmation.
She gave it, her fingers threading through his dark hair, pulling him back to her for a brief, searing kiss. "I didn't say stop," she murmured against his lips, the words laced with need.
The cool air kissed her bare skin, but it was his gaze that made her shiver—hungry, reverent, as if she were the only thing in the world worth seeing. His hands trailing down her thighs, calves, until they pooled at her ankles.
Collie shifted, propping himself between her legs. He leaned down, pressing open-mouthed kisses along her inner thigh, inching higher with each one. Her breath hitched when his lips brushed the sensitive skin just shy of her core, his stubble grazing her in a way that left her heart racing in anticipation.
"You smell so good," he whispered, voice rough, before his tongue flicked out, tracing a slow line along her folds. She gasped, hips lifting instinctively toward him. He held her down gently with one hand on her hip, the other parting her wider as he delved in—licking her clit with flat, broad strokes that made her toes curl.
The sensation was electric, his mouth hot and insistent, sucking lightly on the swollen nub before dipping lower to thrust his tongue inside her. She tasted herself on the air, mingled with his low groans of appreciation. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, nails digging in as pleasure built, coiling tight in her belly.
"Collie... oh god," she moaned, her body arching as he added a finger, then two, sliding them deep while his lips worked her clit. He curled them just right, stroking that spot inside her that made stars burst behind her eyelids. The rhythm was unhurried, savoring her reactions—the way she trembled, the soft whimpers escaping her throat.
He didn't rush, drawing out her pleasure until she was writhing, her thighs clamping around his head. "Come for me," he urged, the vibration of his words pushing her closer. She shattered then, crying out as waves of ecstasy crashed over her, her pussy clenching around his fingers, flooding his mouth with her release.
He lapped at her through it, gentle now, until she sagged back, boneless and panting. Collie rose up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes locked on hers with a fierce tenderness. "That was just the start," he said, voice gravelly with restraint.
She reached for him, "Then show me the rest." She practically purred out as she wrapped her hand around his cock, stroking slowly from base to head, feeling him throb in her grip. He hissed, hips bucking into her touch.
"Fuck, (Y/N)," he groaned, not being able to get enough of this sensation, wanting so much more. Pushing her hand away, he lines himself up against her entrance.
They paused there, breaths intertwined, his forehead against hers. "I love you," he whispered, the words a vow as he pushed inside her—slow, inch by inch, stretching her around his length. She gasped at the fullness, their bodies locking together like pieces of a puzzle long separated.
He stilled when he was buried deep, giving her time to adjust, his hand cupping her face. Then he began to move, thrusts measured and deep, each one dragging against her sensitive spot. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, her heels digging in.
The bed creaked under them as the pace quickened, skin slapping softly against skin. His hand slipped between them, thumb circling her clit in time with his hips, reigniting the fire in her core. She met him thrust for thrust, nails raking down his back, leaving red trails that made him growl.
"You feel perfect," he panted, lips brushing her ear. "So tight around my cock. So beautiful." The dirty words contrasted with the heated emotion in his eyes, heightening everything—the tenderness in how he kissed her through the building frenzy, the passion in every grind of his pelvis against hers.
She brought her lips to his neck grazing with soft and warm kisses tracing lines at the edge of his jaw, drawing a ragged moan from his throat. "Harder," she begged, and he obliged, driving hard and unforgiving with controlled force, the angle hitting that spot inside her over and over. Pleasure built again, sharper this time, her body tensing as release loomed.
"Come with me," he urged, his rhythm faltering as he neared his own edge. She shattered first, her wet heat coiling him in fluttering waves like a live wire, milking his cock as she cried out. He followed soon with a deep thrust, spilling hot cum inside her, his body shuddering as he rode out the waves.
They clung together, sweat-slicked and breathless, his weight a welcome press against her. Collie kissed her softly—her lips, her neck, her shoulder—murmuring endearments between each one. "Stay with me tonight," he said, not a question but a hope.
She smiled, fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin. "I wouldn't dream of leaving."
They laid in bed together, content. With all the love in the world in that tender moment shared.
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