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before-we-get-started · 4 years

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My Favorite Mistake

Pairing: Colin Shea x Reader

Word Count: 3525

Warnings: Fluff, angst

18+ Only!

This is my first fic on Tumblr, feel free to leave comments. I’ve read so many great stories by so many fantastic writers, I aspire to write something as entertaining as what I have the joy of reading by my favorites :)

Image by pinterest.com

“You sure you don’t want to meet us later? We should be done with dinner by 8.”

“No thanks.”

“Y/N, you haven’t been out in weeks. You can’t just stay in that apartment all the time. Put on that cute black dress and meet us at Rave’s.”

You pulled the blanket up higher around your chin, making sure it covered your socked feet on the coffee table. “It’s ok, I really appreciate it but I’m really comfy here. I’m gonna check out a new series on Netflix.”

Your friend sighed through the phone. “Ok. Call me if you need me, ok?”

“Thanks,” you said, ending the call and tucking the phone under the blanket in your lap. It was 7:30 on a Friday night and you were alone, a pint of Ben & Jerry’s serving as dinner as you surfed the TV for something good to watch.

It had been exactly three months. Three months since your heart was shattered, three months since you thought your world had ended, three months since you’d allowed yourself to enjoy anything. Everyone warned you, including a few friends that had traveled the same road. Colin was trouble. While everyone agreed he was dangerously sexy and incredibly handsome, everyone knew that for Colin, variety was the spice of life. He’d even told you that he tried one time to settle down with someone, and it was so painful when it ended, he would never do it again.

That didn’t stop you though. You’d never forget the moment you’d met him – you were moving in to apartment 6C in a gorgeous, historic building in Boston. It was your first place of your own – your folks were so proud of you and helped you get moved in. On day 3 in your new place, your world changed. You were stepping out your door for work when your neighbor in 6A opened the door to grab his newspaper. He was naked but for a flowered bathroom towel that he held to keep his privacy. He was tall and lean with defined pecs, muscular arms, spiky blonde hair and blue eyes that reminded you of the ocean. And then he smiled, a million watts reaching across the banister to your apartment. “Good mornin’ 6C. I’m Colin,” he’d said in that delicious deep voice. Somehow you’d managed to squeak out your name, trying hard to breathe and keep walking. You had to pass him to get to the stairs, trying not to trip and fall or make an idiot of yourself.

“I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around,” he said as you made your way down the stairs.

“I hope so,” you’d replied, your voice sounding stronger than you imagined. A corner of his smile turned up and he gave you a little salute as you headed downstairs.

True to his word, he’d knocked on your door that night with a bag of Chinese food and you’d invited him in. You played hard to get that night, even though the four beers and those blue eyes nearly broke your will. But on Friday, when he knocked again, you didn’t even make it through the tacos he brought over. Before you knew it, you’d gone from deep kisses on the couch to your bed, where you fell asleep wrapped around his body after hours of incredible sex.

When the sun came up that Saturday morning, you blinked your eyes as you awoke, looking up at the most handsome face and long eyelashes you’d ever seen. You’d kissed his cheek, then peppered his neck and shoulders with kisses, releasing him from sleep and encouraging him to take you again. You’d wrapped your legs around him and he’d carried you into the bathroom, where you ran a hot bath and the two of you snuggled under the bubbles for an hour.

The next few days you were inseparable. As soon as you got home from work, he was there. Most every night he stayed in your bed. More than once you’d watched the glow of the sunrise on your bedroom walls as you and Colin couldn’t get enough of each other’s touch. You’d watched some movies, binged a couple of shows, and shared the kitchen preparing some of your favorite recipes.

You’d also talked, and talked, and talked. You told him about your ex, the guy you thought was “the one,” even though you certainly never felt for him what you did when you were with Colin. He told you about Allie, who had lived in your apartment before. He’d fallen hard for her and thought maybe he should think about settling with one girl, but she’d broken it off suddenly, and later he learned she’d eloped with one of her exes. The hurt in his eyes had been unbearable.

That night you’d made it your quest to make him forget her – he’d called your name more than once and you’d held on to him tight, kissing him with enough passion to wipe out the sad memory of her.

There was something so thrilling about being with him. Most of the time you didn’t have a plan, and you loved how each time with him would unfold. You’d spent a few evenings listening to your favorite tunes on the roof of the building, dancing under the moonlight. Colin was always working on songs for his band. He’d strum the guitar and you’d listen intently - you’d even helped him with lyrics on a few.

One night Colin texted and told you he had plans and wouldn’t be able to see you. You’d texted back and told him to have a good night, happy to find him waiting at your door the next night after work. A few times he’d left to spend then night at his apartment. You’d noticed he��d checked his phone and figured he had something on his calendar for the next morning. You’d mentioned him to your girlfriends and gotten more than one eyeroll.

“How many of you have slept with Colin?” your friend Jenny asked your friends at a bar one night. A few raised their hands. “I’m not stupid,” you’d responded.

“I know he likes girls. We’re just friends with benefits.” The words came out, but you knew they were a lie. You were in love with him. Head over heels, heart and soul, forever and ever in love with him. You were in love with a total player who made it his goal to sleep with every girl in Boston.

And so, on the morning of the 6-month anniversary of your first evening together, the truth had reared its ugly head. You’d spent the night before at your parents’ house after having dinner with them and had run home to get ready the next morning before heading to work so that you could bring him a gift. You’d picked up his favorite cannolis from the local bakery. You knew he was probably still asleep so you hung the bag on his door and texted him to check when he woke up. As you left for work, you heard a giggle across the hall. A girl opened Colin’s door and peeked around the edge, grabbing the bag of cannolis from the doorknob. You heard his laughter behind her as she closed the door.

You froze. You couldn’t catch your breath. Your knees were weak. Tears burned at your eyes. The next few moments were a blur. You marched over to his door and knocked softly. You heard a rustle, then he was there, bare chested, wearing your favorite ripped jeans.

“I hope you two enjoy your breakfast. I’m glad I went out of my way to bring it to you on a day that at least means something to me.” You turned on your heel and rushed down the stairs, ignoring him calling your name. You’d broken down on the train, dabbing at the tears to try and save your makeup. The older lady next to you patted your arm as you pulled yourself together.

Your phone had dinged all day. Text after text from him, none of which you read. You were upset, but mostly mad at yourself. It was your own fault. He had told you himself that monogamy wasn’t his thing. But it had been impossible not to believe he felt something for you every time the two of you came together. The way he looked in your eyes, the way he held you so close, the way the two of you were entangled for hours on end. Could it really not be more than just sex?

That night you’d stayed with a friend, leaving from her house the next morning for work. You’d left work early and slipped into your apartment in the afternoon, changing into his t-shirt and climbing into bed. You’d slept through to the morning, trudging in for another day at work. You couldn’t help but wonder what was happening behind his apartment door. It was unbearable to think of him holding someone else, kissing them the way he kissed you.

For weeks, you’d managed to avoid seeing him. More than once you’d heard him come home, then heard a soft knock at your door, but you didn’t answer. There were so many text messages. “Good morning Y/N. Hope your day is good.” “Good night, sweet dreams.” Worst of all, lots of “I miss you” texts that made you want to open the door the next time he knocked.

You wanted to see him again. You wanted to just accept that you’d take what you got from him and be happy with it. But knowing that you might be his Thursday and another girl would be his Friday was just too hard. How could he kiss you in that spot on your throat that drove you crazy, and then do the same thing for someone else? How could something so intimate not mean more to him?

So for three months, you’d been miserable. Friends had tried to set you up on a couple of blind dates, your mom had even tried to introduce you to one of your dad’s associates, but you just weren’t ready. And now you were sitting home on a Friday night, wrapped up in frumpy sweats and a blanket, feeling sorry for yourself.

You didn’t know exactly what got into you but you threw the blanket off and headed for the bathroom. You peeled out of the sweats, turned on the curling iron and grabbed your makeup bag. In 20 minutes you’d pulled on your favorite little black dress, applied makeup for an evening out, curled your hair and grabbed your beaded clutch. You slipped on your strappy high heels and headed for the door. You’d text your friend and let her know you’d be at Rave’s to meet them.

As you opened the door, you stopped cold. Colin was in front of you. He had on gray slacks and a pale blue button up shirt, the first three buttons open. His hair was styled, the thin silver chain of his necklace and the tattoo on his chest peeking out from his shirt. His ocean blue eyes lit up when he saw you. He held a bouquet of roses in his hand. You smelled the musky scent you loved so much.

“Hey,” he said shyly. “You look amazing.” He licked his lips as he looked you up and down.

You went from startled to smug in a few seconds. “I’m on my way out,” you said. “Meeting some friends tonight. Mind moving out of my way?”

He hesitated but stepped aside. You brushed past him, looking over your shoulder at him as you rounded the banister.

“Y/N, I really want to talk to you.”

“Not tonight,” you said confidently, descending the stairs.

The club was rocking when you got there and the girls were all glad to see you. You took advantage of all the free drinks they were supplying and did your share of dancing, including a couple of slow dances with hot guys that were knocking each other over to flirt with you. When one asked to walk you to your Uber, you agreed, and took him up on making the ride to your apartment.

He’d taken your hand as you ascended the stairs to the 6th floor, chatting and laughing all the way up. You fished in your clutch for your keys when you heard the door behind you open. Your escort put his hand at the small of your back and pulled you in for a kiss just as Colin peered out. You opened your eyes just as he started to close his door. You saw that sadness, the same sadness you’d seen when he’d told you about his broken heart.

Your escort started to turn the key but you stopped him. You thanked him for walking you up but said you needed to call it a night. He gave you another kiss and you exchanged phone numbers, then he headed down the stairs.

You let out a huge sigh as you stared at 6A. You thought the night out would help extinguish the fire but it continued to rage inside you. You walked over and gently knocked. You held your breath as you watched the door knob turn.

“Hey.”

“Can I come in?”

He pulled the door open a bit more so you could step in. He stood still, looking down at his feet. You pushed the door closed.

“Why were you dressed up tonight?”

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I had a date.”

You felt your heart sink a little. “Oh. How’d it go?”

“I don’t know.”

You cocked your head a little. “You don’t know?”

“Nope.”

You shook your head a little. “Why don’t you know?”

“Didn’t happen.”

You blew out a sigh, a little frustrated. “You had a date, but you didn’t have a date.”

“Right.”

“Ok,” you said. Maybe it was a mistake coming over. You turned towards the door. “Well, sorry to bother you, just thought I’d say hi.”

“Don’t you want to know why it didn’t happen?”

You sighed. “Sure, I’ll bite. Why didn’t it happen?”

He stepped toward you, then put his hands on the small of your back, pulling you closer. “I went to ask her and she was on her way out.”

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and looked into those ocean blues. “Where’d she go?”

“I don’t know,” he said gruffly, “but she didn’t come home alone.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, “wonder if he likes cannolis?”

He looked down for a minute, something flashing across his face. Guilt, maybe? To his credit, he met your eyes again. “I’m sorry.”

You’d hoped to hear those words for so long. You hoped he’d at least acknowledge that he’d hurt you.

“I was an ass. Easily the most asshole thing I’ve ever done. And that’s saying a lot. I’m sorry.”

You let out a quiet chuckle. “Definitely a move that will get you in the Asshole Hall of Fame.”

It was his turn to laugh and he met your eyes again. “I was scared,” he said.

“Scared? Scared of what?”

“Of us,” he said.

Your eyebrows scrunched in surprise. “What do you mean?”

He let out a huff of air and squeezed your hips a little tighter. “You and I, we were really good. I got so used to being with you. Everything about you made me happy. And I got scared. I tried feeling that way before and it broke me. I had to put some space between us.”

“So you let some bimbo eat our anniversary cannolis?”

He laughed a little, dropping his head and shaking it. “Yeah. I know. I’m a shit.”

“Yep,” you said, popping the ‘p’ loudly.

“I tried to talk to you. Tried to apologize. I texted, came over a few times. It was clear you weren’t interested in hearing what I had to say. So tonight I decided to step it up.”

You felt tears burn at your eyes. You wanted to stay strong and blinked them away. “I did something incredibly stupid,” you said.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I fell in love with you. Even though everyone told me and everything inside me knew I shouldn’t, I did. All of those times being with you,” you said, your eyes glistening with tears. “All of those kisses, all of those touches, they meant something to me. More than just hooking up. I let myself believe they meant something to you too,” you said.

“They did,” he said softly in that deep, sexy voice. He lifted a hand to your face, cupping your chin and gently touching his lips to yours. You closed your eyes, soaking in the feeling. You pressed your hands to his chest. He deepened the kiss and you instinctively let your hands slide up his neck, burying your fingers in the hair there, pulling it a little between your fingers. A soft moan escaped him as he pressed his body closer to yours. He dropped his hand to your hips again, pulling you so close you could feel him through his jeans.

Sirens sounded in your brain. You were letting yourself fall down this hole again. You knew how hard it had been to climb out. You gently pulled out of the kiss, licking your lips and rubbing the tip of your nose on his.

“I can’t,” you said, a tear escaping your eye.

He pressed his forehead to yours, pulling his hand behind your head and caressing your soft hair. “Y/N.”

There was no sound like that of your name on his lips. It was like music. You felt yourself shiver as you fought with everything you had not to melt into him.

“I want more than you do. It’s too hard. It’s not your fault, it’s just how it is. This – hurts,” you said, a soft sob escaping.

“I want it too.”

You felt a sad smile cross your lips. “Not like I do Colin. I want all of you. Everything. I don’t want to share. I don’t want you to touch anyone else.” You gently ran your hands up his chest. “I don’t want you to kiss anyone else,” you said as you pressed your lips to his. “I don’t want you to find that special place on anyone else,” you said, pressing your lips to that place on his neck that drove him wild. He growled deep in his throat, encircling your waist with his arms.

“Y/N,” he breathed.

“It’s ok,” you said sadly. “I was lucky to have you while I did. Most people don’t get to feel what I felt with you.” You ran the backs of two fingers down his cheek, letting yourself dive into those eyes. Every inch of you felt warm.

“What if –“ he started, then hesitated. “What if we start again. And I don’t fuck up this time.”

You let out a low laugh. “You’d just be setting us up for failure. It’s ok Colin. I don’t –“

His fingers circled your wrists and he covered your lips with his. “It’s not ok. I hurt you.” He kissed you again, this time a little deeper. “It took me seeing you with someone else to really get it. I’ve missed you so much. But seeing you tonight – I just ache. Please tell me we can try again.” He smothered your mouth with his, sucking gently on your bottom lip. “Please Y/N.”

You tried taking a breath but it caught in your throat, your heart beating wildly. You’d be a fool to do this again, put yourself out there for more. How did that saying go, insanity was doing the same thing over again and expecting a different result?

“Colin –“

“I love you.”

You blinked at him, certain you’d just imagined it. “What?”

He smiled, that smile that could light up the entire city. He gently pushed a piece of hair behind your ear and let his fingers linger on your earlobe. “I,” he said, kissing the tip of your nose. “Love,” he said, pressing his lips to the apple of your cheek. “You,” he said, locking onto your eyes with his, then gently kissing your lips. “I love us.”

You leaned into him, burying your face into the side of his neck, wrapping your arms around him. “I’m afraid.”

He pulled you to him, stroking your hair, a hand at your lower back. “I know baby,” he said. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “It’s ok. I’ve got you.”

You let yourself melt into him more. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to let go. “What if – what if you get scared again? What if I’m not what you really want? What if you wake up one morning and look at me and realize I’m a mistake?”

You felt his chest rumble with a little laugh. “Trust me baby, you’re my favorite mistake.” He pulled back and kissed you, and you let yourself melt into the love of your life.

#what-is-your-backupplan-today #captainsteveamericarogers

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