#SAVE ME COLT SEAVERS | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

so-much-for-the-seashells · 5 months ago

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colt seavers x reader fic please!!

something fluffy, him being jealous, pining, being flirty.. thanks!!

A/N: Thank you so much for the request, Anon!! Hope you like this!! I’ve really missed writing for Colt! Sorry for how long this took- my writing process is either very slow or very fast, no happy medium haha. Now, I really hope you like this interpretation- if not, feel free to send another ask!<3

Also, I ended up writing Jody out, it just made a little more sense in this story.

Other than that, still searching for a beta reader! DM if interested!!

Content Warnings: None aside from a little cursing! This is as Anon asked, very fluffy! :)

Also, this switches between the reader & Colt’s standpoint!

Enjoy! Xx

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Reader’s POV

I’ve been working on my movie, ‘Dreams of Maybe,’ for about a year now. It’s to be my directorial debut, and because of that the pressure has been on. Debuts are a bit of a superstitious event for new directors: they either make or break your career, even if it’s only the getgo. Sure, some can get back on their feet if they get a second chance, and others end up making a name for themselves for solely directing god-awful movies, but I don’t have time for that. For a second chance, for none of it. This movie is a culmination of everything I’ve worked for during film school and even before, and nothing is going to deter me.

Now, despite its name, “Dreams of Maybe” is an action movie. Throughout the movie, the main character, a woman called Hyleia, wrestles with the turmoil of fighting the war her home planet, Kalythea, is engaged in. As per the title, she dreams of the “maybes” that could happen after the war-maybe settling down with the love of her life, N’era; maybe finally getting a Orundaw (this world’s version of a dog); etc. But, as a warrior, Hyleia knows that those maybes could also be poverty; her world falling back into fascism as it had been when she was young; etc.

Jenny Sikes, the writer and genius behind all of this, was still developing the ending, but I have extremely high hopes. And thus far everything’s been running smoothly. I had gone into this thinking I would have to have a stick up my ass and be “tough,” but thankfully that hadn’t had to happened.

If anything, I’m really enjoying the process. To the point that even if somehow this incredible film- sure, I’m biased, but it actually is that good- flops, the friends I’ve made and experiences I’ve had would almost make up for it. Almost because, you know, I’d be out of job. Details, details.

Aside from Jenny, who is probably my closest friend on set, I’ve also bonded with Kelly Newman and Kora Kline, the women playing Hyleia and N’era respectively; as well as man who was playing the leader of the fleet warring against Kalythea, a warmonger called Jöl. The actor’s name is Reed Smith, and contrary to his character he is one of the sweetest men I’ve ever met. And very handsome, at that- refined good looks with messily bleached hair that went with his character. He’s a proper Mr. Hollywood, minus the controversy and overall bitchiness.

My producer had also managed to get Fall Guy Stunts to sign on to the movie, which was phenomenal. Well, the producer just closed the deal. It was really our stunt coordinator, a man named Dan, who recommended the company as he’d worked with a man called Colt Seavers before, and claimed he was the best in business.

I didn’t end up meeting him until it was time for the indoor explosion. The scene itself is a red herring, a false sense of victory. Hyleia thinks she’s blown up Jöl inside of the negotiations building. Their leader was supposed to be the one to fire the bomb, but unexpectedly got shot down out of the sky and in a fit of adrenaline Hyleia detonated it from the ground, barely surviving. However, because of that she ended up having a target placed on her back by Jöl. It’s a whole thing.

Anyway, Dan and I wanted to go big on at least one stunt, and the producer suggested we do an indoor explosion- sort of a bigger, crazier one than the one in The Fifth Element.

I was a little skeptical, as indoor explosions are extremely dangerous and 100% real. Hence Colt Seavers being hired. “Best in the business,” or so says his reputation. The stunt was early in in the production and a last minute decision. At the time we didn’t think we were going to exceed what Reed could handle as far as stunts go, but we were wrong. Thankfully Colt owed Dan a favor- something about a Stallone autograph gone wrong- and the former was willing to step in as Reed’s stunt double with a 25% discount.

As it turns out, I had no reason to stress. Colt Seavers really is the best in the business, the statement was in no way hyperbolic. He literally got into the Guinness Book of World Records for it the stunt, which subsequently put our movie on the map. This was an enormous deal- the film had went from “just another sci-fi fantasy action drama” to “already on the map” within days, at least in movie buff circles.

He had managed the indoor explosion with ease, due to his own expertise and due to impeccable form. He looks like a walking action hero, and the sight alone is enough to take anyone’s breath away upon meeting him.

And if the sight’s good, the personality? He’s the sweetest, most easy-going, flirtiest man I’ve ever met with a self-deprecating sense of humor and a coffee addiction to boot. He likes plants and animals, musicals and Audrey Hepburn movies. He looks like the epitome of the action genre, and yet is actually a sweet man who is in touch with his feelings and interests. Extremely endearing if you ask me.

And sure, I might have a small crush on him. But I don’t think anything would come of it- we’ve made friends and that seems to be that.

But sometimes I do think about how nice it would be to sit at a coffee table doing puzzles with him, kissing his pink lips over the table as we go along.

But again, the magic “friends” word.

Reed thinks something will come of it, as Colt and I do spend a decent amount of time together, but honestly, I don’t know if I believe him.

Anyways, I’m currently outside of my trailer, sitting at a picnic table, in dire need of fresh air and a spark of creativity. Being outdoors has always helped me get the ideas flowing; maybe it’s the crickets and the birds. Maybe I subconsciously recognize what they’re saying and turn it into my own words. Or maybe I’m fucking freezing, because it’s the middle of winter in Canada and I’m inappropriately dressed. Who’s to say.

Although really, I should probably get my parka… the soft snow is beautiful, glimmering under the sun, but my sweater and leggings aren’t exactly cutting it.

The thing is, though all credit as far as screenplay goes to Jenny Sikes, I’ve actually been very involved in creating the story. Which means I’m also involved in helping find this elusive ending.

This stupid, needs-to-be-perfect, impossible, unattainable ending.

We’ve been spitballing ideas for the past few days now, but none of them feel right.

There’s the unexpected ending: Kalythea ends up getting destroyed by Jöl’s fleet alongside Hyleia and her lover. Sure, it would be depressing, but it’s certainly plausible given the pretext of the “negative maybes.”

Or maybe we use the too-good-to-be-true ending: Hyleia wins, gets the girl; Kalythea rebuilds itself for the better this time, doesn’t fall back into its well established patterns of fascism. That’s the most popular ending in the writers room as of now, but Jenny and I are still holding out for something better.

We owe the film something perfect. Something right. Something fitting.

We’re just running out of time to find it.

And I might be running out of time to live with how inhospitable it is out here. (Let it be known that I don’t much care for being cold.)

Just as I begin to recognize how cold I am, a comfortingly familiar voice breaks the silence. It’s low and soft, with a slight rasp to it that makes you hang on every word. And I love it.

“Y/n L/n, as I live and breathe,” Colt Seavers says by way of greeting, handing me a coffee. It’s in a (y/f/c) mug, which is honestly very endearing of him. I take it graciously in both hands, the warmth of the steam much appreciated.

“Colt Seavers, as I choke and die of hypothermia,” I say from behind the coffee, my teeth chattering.

“Aw, don’t do that,” he chuckles, his baby-blue eyes sparkling like the snow around us. He sits next to me, and I immediately feel warmer, his presence alone making me feel better.

“Why not?” I ask, turning to look at him, our legs touching.

“Cause then who would I have to talk to?”

“I dunno, Dan?” I suggest.

“Meh,” he shrugs, downing half of his own coffee. This man is an addict.

“You don’t mean that,” I gasp sarcastically.

“You’re right, I don’t,” he concedes. “Please don’t tell him,” he asks, dramatics in his voice.

“For now,” I wink, and we both share a soft laugh.

“You’re shivering- do you want my jacket?” he asks considerately, already pulling his puffy yellow jacket.

“Oh, that’s okay-,” I protest, not wanting to deprive him of warmth, but he cuts me off.

“Here, I knew you’d say that,” he smiles, handing it to me. I have to smile back at that, shaking my head at how well he knows me.

“Thanks,” I say, putting it on. It’s super warm, and it smells like him. I like it. I rest my head against his shoulder. “Aren’t you going to be cold?”

“Nah, it’s one of my stunt-guy superpowers,” he puts his arm around me, hand grazing up and down my arm to keep me warm. I gaze up at him, mesmerized by his eyes before realizing...

“Your lips are already blue,” I observe aloud.

“It’s my lip gloss,” he jokes through chattering teeth.

“Uh huh,” I agree with skepticism.

“H-how do you still manage to look g-g-gorgeous e-even while you’re drowning in my j-jacket,” he attempts to flirt, his clattering teeth most definitely ruining the effect he was going for. And yet still he makes the butterflies in my stomach come alive, just like he always does. I like when he flirts with me, I really do. But I also think that’s just how he talks with people, y’know?

But maybe…

Colt’s POV

I am so, so glad that Dan called in that favor all those months ago.

Look, having your own stunt production is great. Fantastic, even. You get to pick your own hours, do your own jobs, etc.

But being the owner means that you just sit around for the most part, assigning your crew to the good stuff while you just wait for the next call. And honestly, it’s so, so boring.

For a normal person, that might be the dream. Finally getting to relax. But my career has been anything but normal, especially after the whole Tom Ryder incident a few years ago. The dipshit was going to frame me for murder with the help of a producer I was once close to. As far as I know they’re both going to be behind bars for a while, but I had worked for and with them for about fifteen years. Finding out that they were such bad people made those years seem worthless, as if they weren’t real.

So, before Dan called me to work on ‘Dreams of Maybe,’ I was bored. Bored and itching for the next thing. I had fallen back into my habit of picking up as many random hobbies as possible- at the time I think I was most fixated on crocheting, especially those little stuffed animals. But, being ADHD means that I can’t stick with one thing for too long- it’s why my place back home is littered with fishbowls and puzzles, paint-by-numbers and table top sports among other things. And when Dan called, I was maybe days away from finding the next thing.

At the great thanks of my house he called, and for the first time I was back in the game. He had told me that I’d be doing stunts for Reed Smith, an up and coming a-lister who’s been in a lot of action movies as of late. I really liked him in “House of Ruins,” but the stunts were a little dull for my taste. But hey, that’s what I’m here for. For some inane reason I missed getting set on fire and thrown at walls.

The indoor explosion scene ended up turning out absolutely fantastically, and because of how good it was I decided to stick around, help the film get more prestige in the action-stunt world.

Not to mention that the literal world record wasn’t too shabby in of itself.

But it’s not even just the stunts.

I’m back in the saddle, but not only am I back in it but I’m back in it with my best friend Dan. I’ve missed hanging out with him, and how much I can trust him as coordinator.

Also, y/n. She’s the director of the movie, and wow. You know in the movies, when the guy sees the girl and his entire perspective changes? That’s how I feel about y/n. She’s incredible, she’s witty, and you know what? It’s cheesy, but she’s better than the movies could ever hope to be.

We’d hit it off after the indoor explosion, and it was like we’d known each other forever. We had a habit of going to the beach (back when it was warm) or getting coffee off set pretty much everyday, and it’s been pretty awesome.

I like to bother her, because it’s hilariously adorable when she gets flustered. It’s stupid stuff- I drive a little too recklessly sometimes (like stunt driving. I wouldn’t actually put her in danger) or I’ll sneak up on her and get a little jump out of her. Sue me, it’s fun.

Not to mention the tiny detail that I am irrevocably in love with her. I don’t really know when it happened- maybe it was from day one- but she just makes me feel so alive. I’ve been trying to get the balls to tell her, but as of now I’ve come to the conclusion that I won’t say anything if she does.

I think there’s a chance she could be into me, but honestly, I don’t know. If she is, it would be fantastic. If she’s not, that’s okay too, she’s one of the best friends I’ve ever had. (Don’t tell Dan)

It’s just one of those things. We just… we have these moments, where it seems like maybe we’re a little more than friends.

You know, those long looks that dip their pinky toes into longing, laughing at jokes that aren’t even funny…

Or even just the way she lays her head on my chest, like today. She’s so comfortable there, my jacket far too big on her as she looks up at me with those gorgeous (y/e/c) eyes. She’s adorable, and I’m just fine with dying of hypothermia if it means I get to look at her as I go.

Okay, I’m not going to die.

I think.

You get the point.

“You know, you’re a lot smoother when you’re not freezing to death,” she tells me. There’s a slight note of concern behind the sarcasm, something you’d only be able to catch if you’ve hung out with her long enough.

“Wh-who n-needs to be sm-smooth when th-they’re t-telling th-the truth?” I ask, the cold stopping me from getting any word longer than one syllable out properly. Real attractive, Seavers.

Hypothermic climate aside, this is how a lot of our time together is spent. Drinking coffee in random places, me trying to flirt and her retorting with her endless supply of sarcasm. I wouldn’t trade anything for it.

“Mhm, let’s get you inside, champ,” she says, standing up. Already I miss the warmth of her resting against my chest, the closeness.

Good grief, dipshit. Get it together.

But once she extends a hand for me to take I’m back in cloud-nine, happy to be touching her.

See what I mean? I think I’m losing it. Or I’m just whipped like Dan says.

She leads me back to her trailer, barely ten feet from where we had been sitting. I can’t help but sigh of relief at feeling the warm air in the trailer. She laughs and gestures for me to sit on the little forest green sofa. I comply, setting my drink on the coffee table in front of the couch. She disappear into a little nook of the place before re-emerging with a big fluffy grey blanket that she must’ve pulled from her bed.

“Here,” she tosses the fluff over me, making my heart leap. I can’t help it, it’s just the y/n-effect.

“Thanks,” I say, shivering.

She walks over to her small kitchen space, and a few minutes later comes back with two mugs. She hands me one, then sits by me. Well more like on me, because there’s a whole sofa and her were touching everywhere. She’s adorable. And I love seeing her in my jacket… man, I’m going to have to tell her at some point.

I must’ve instinctively put my arm around her shoulders, because she hums contentedly and looks up at me. “Y’wanna watch The Fifth Element? I need something to get me in an ideas mood.”

Ohh, she must’ve been out there trying to figure out the ending. That’s what she does: she thinks outdoors. She finds it easier to think.

Of course, I’ll gladly watch The Fifth Element with her. Just as I’ve gladly watched it with her 7 other times.

“Of course,” I tell her, surprised that she can’t feel the way my heart is beating out of my chest from the smile she gives me. I genuinely get a little sad when she gets up to get the remote, but when she lays back against me any trace of negativity immediately dissipates. She’s got me wrapped around her fingers.

We watch a good chunk of the movie in comfortable silence, sipping our cocoa and staying under the blankets. She never takes off my jacket, and frankly I hope she keeps it; it looks better on her anyway.

“Wait, shit, what time is it?” she asks, suddenly sitting up and almost conking my chi with the back of her head.

“Uhh,” I check my watch. “Seven, why?”

“Damnit, I was supposed to meet the crew at the bar… half an hour ago.”

“Shit, I completely forgot about that.” Dan had invited me, it was supposed to be a hangout for the main actors and the rest of the “inner circle”- ie yours truly, Dan, y/n, etc. “We can take my truck?” I offer.

“But I’m so warm?” She protests, even though she’s the one that remembered we needed to go, which again, is adorable. Just like everything about her. Just like the way she’s wrapping herself tighter in my jacket which is at least three sizes too big on her.

“Keep the jacket, and maybe we can come back here?” I suggest, attempting to entice her.

She pretends to mull it over for a second, her hand tapping on her chin. “Can we finish the movie later?”

“Yeah,” I grin.

“Okay,” she mirrors the expression, and once again I’m feeling those damned school girl butterflies. When she takes my hand in hers to help me up it’s all I can do not to pull her back and kiss her senseless. But now isn’t the time.

Come to think of it…

When is?

Reader’s POV

We’re in Colt’s truck, as usual sitting unnecessarily close to one another under the guise of how cold it is.

I love wearing his jacket, being surrounded by his comforting coffee scent and his residual warmth in the fuzz. And he’s let me keep it- even if he only meant for tonight he’s not getting it back.

I love him. So much. And I want to tell him, but I also don’t want to put my foot in my mouth, y’know. And I can’t risk our friendship, it’s just too comfortable. Too comfortable to lose.

We get to the bar, and just like always he hops out of the car and quickly runs to the passenger side to open the door for me, extending a hand to help me down. I love his insistence on being chivalrous, yet another one of his endearing qualities.

We walk into Johnny’s, the bar that the crew regularly meets at, in comfortable silence. And again, we’re standing just a little too close, and again, I don’t mind- the proximity just keeps those butterflies fluttering around in my stomach.

Reed waves at me from a booth in the back corner, sitting at the end of a bench capping Dan, Kora, and Kelly who are sitting in that order.

“Glad you made it!” Reed stands to greet us, giving me a hug. Dan also stands to let Kora and Kelly out, the both of which are presumably heading home. They both say bye to me before heading out arm and arm- the press doesn’t know it yet but they, just like their fictional counterparts, are very much in love. We get seated, and somehow Colt and I are separated- he’s sitting on the inside by Dan while I’m directly across from him sitting next to Reed. The latter gets a round of shots going for the table, and before we know it we’re all laughing about practically nothing, damn near shitfaced. Except, even in my buzzed stupor I notice that Colt’s gone uncharacteristically stony… weird.

I leen into Reed’s side, laughing about a story he’s telling about how he got stuck in the harness on one of the few stunts he did. Almost ripped his underwear off too.

Now before you get any ideas, I’m don’t sit super close with just anyone. With Colt it’s because I like him, like, like him; with Reed it’s because we’re just close. Not because we’re dating or have something weird going on, it’s because we’re friends. Also, he doesn’t swing my way to begin with. Another nugget the press has yet to pick up on, for better or worse. Except this little nugget is something that hardly anyone knows- I’m probably one of five-ish.

But I don’t like how sad Colt looks right now… did I do something? I really hope not. But he’s smiling again at something Dan interjects with, so maybe I just imagined it. I don’t know. I throw back another shot, hoping the additional buzz destroys whatever downer-mood is trying to creep in right now.

But the thing is, as the night goes on he still looks sad. He only gives me one word answers and hardly acknowledges me otherwise, and it hurts a little. So I just keep throwing them back until I’m a train wreck- and not just any train wreck, an upset train wreck. I really hope I didn’t manage to fuck something up here. I’d say he thinks there’s something between me and Reed, but why would he even care if there was? I don’t think he likes me like that. I wish he did, but I just don’t know.

I think I’m ready to go home.

Colt’s POV

I wasn’t expecting her to be into Reed, but so be it, I guess… it still hurts though. I’m already planning on buying some new puzzles to cope. I’m trying not to feel hurt, but I can’t help it. Jealousy is douchey but it’s still there… ugh.

But she’s just asked me to take her home, so of course I will. She’s drunk off her ass, and I’ve never seen her like this.

I can’t help but wish it was me when I watch her peck Reed on the cheek as goodbye. I need to get it together right now. She deserves someone good for her, and I need to be happy for her. Like a good friend.

And yet, my heart still hurts.

“Colt?” she snaps me out of reality. “I don’t feel so good,” her hand is on her stomach. Shit, she’s going to throw up.

“Alright, come on,” I place my hand on the small of her back, guiding her throw the mass of people and saying goodbyes for her, thankfully getting her outside just before she throws up.

“This is like 10 things I hate about you,” she comments wistfully after she’s gotten it out of her system.

“At least you don’t have a concussion,” I quip, reminiscing the movie. That one’s one of my favorites, I can quote the entire thing by heart.

“Yeah,” she looks up at me, holding my hands. I can’t help but notice that she never took off my jacket and how cute she still looks in it, even if she’s just retched up her stomach. Our gazes lock for just a moment too long, and I cough to break the silence.

“Let’s get you home,” I nod my head in the general direction of where my truck is parked.

“Okay,” she agrees, only letting go of one of my hands. I can’t help but smile at that- I didn’t take her for a clingy drunk.

We cross the moon lit parking lot over to my truck, and I all but toss her in- gently, of course- before hopping in myself and starting the engine.

“Thanks, Colt,” she whispers before I put the truck in reverse.

“Yeah, of course, y/n,” I reply, driving off.

Twenty minutes later we’re back in the trailer, and I’ve helped her onto her bed. It took her about ten minutes to get some pajamas on, but finally she’s under that grey comforter.

“Alright, I should probably go,” I say awkwardly, feeling a little shifty.

“Wait,” she says, waiting for me to turn around. “Are you mad at me?” Her voice is tinny and sad, and it about cracks my heart into a million pieces.

“No, y/n, I could never be mad at you,” I tell her honestly, walking back over towards her and kneeling at the side of the bed so my head is level with hers.

“But you looked sad at the bar,” she mumbles.

Dipshit. My face must’ve given me away- I can’t help that it comes with subtitles.

“I wasn’t sad,” I gaslight her. I was just… happy for you and Reed.”

At that she starts laughing, a sound so infectious that I can’t help but smile. “What?” I ask.

“Me and Reed?!” she slurs. “He doesn’t even swing my way… shit I wasn’t supposed to say that.”

Wait. You’re telling me that Reed’s gay? How stupid am I??

“Wait…”

“Colt, I like you,” she says, her voice the los tour together it’s been in a few hours. “Like, like you.”

Wait.

She…

She likes…

She likes me?!

It’s all I can do right now not to pump my fist and and loudly say ‘yes!’ as if I’ve won a sports championship. Any trace of sadness is completely dissipated, because y/n l/n likes-like likes- me.

“Colt?”

Oh, right, I haven’t said anything.

“Look, y/n, we can talk about this more tomorrow,” because I’m not going to influence her while she’s still drunk, “but I need you to know this: I really, really like you. And I have for a long time,” I confess, and if the smile she gave me was my last sight I’d die a beyond happy man.

“Okay,” she whispers, looking me in the eyes.

“Okay,” I tell her. “I’m going to let you get some rest, but we’re going to talk about this more tomorrow, okay?” It’s not that I want to go, but I know it’s better to given her state of mind right now. Plus, the sooner I pass out the sooner I wake up and the sooner we can talk about this.

“Okay,” she agrees.

“Goodnight, y/n,” I stand up, but before I can walk away she grabs my hand. I turn to look at her, a little confused.

“Colt?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you maybe stay with me?” and again, her voice is too sweet to say no to. Like, I would do the indoor-explosion for free if she asked me like this.

I mull it over. I’m not a douche, I wouldn’t do anything while she’s drunk. Maybe I could just sleep on the couch?

“I can go sleep on the couch?” I suggest, parroting my thoughts.

“Noo, here, please,” she pats the bed beside her.

“I don’t know if that’s the best idea right now, y/n.”

“Please?” she asks me, giving me puppy dog eyes.

“Fine, fine,” I grumble, as if displeased with the notion of being able to lay next to the love of my life. But she doesn’t even seem to notice my tone as she turn around to face me laying on the bed.

“I like you,” she whispers, before promptly passing out.

I shake my head amusedly. “I like you.”

So, so much.

Reader’s POV

I wake up, expecting to have the gnarliest hangover of all time. Except, by some miracle, all that’s there is a slight headache. Thank everything.

I’m a little groggy at first, but I register a weight draped over my side. Huh?

But then I open my eyes and see Colt, with his messy hair and his peaceful face, sleeping. He’s holding me close, as if I’m some sort of teddy bear. And that’s when I remember our conversation: I told him, and he likes me back!

I smile to myself.

“Hey there, smiley,” his voice comes out groggy, heavily taunted with sleep. I love the way it sounds.

“Hey yourself,” I say, still grinning.

“What are you so happy about?” he teases.

“You. And I’d kiss you right now but I think I have bad morning breath.”

“Well,” he mumbles, getting close. “Morning breath be damned, I want to kiss you too.”

“Well, in the case…” I lean in and press a soft peck to his lips. And it’s perfect. Absolutely perfect. And now I know it for sure: I’m in love.

Wait.

Love.

The movie.

“The ending!” I shout, reaching over to my phone to text Jenny.

“Wha-,” he asks, obviously confused.

“The ending of the movie. They kiss before the planet blows up.”

“Wait… the planet’s not going to blow up because we just kissed… right?” he jokes.

“I dunno,” I shrug, sending the text and throwing my phone on the chair. “Sorry. I was thinking about the planet blowing up when I thought you were upset with me yesterday, and then this-,” I kiss him again, and he smiles. “Finished the thought train.”

“Huh,” he says, pulling me close. “I like you, so much,” he says, his voice sweet.

“I like you too, so much,” I agree, kissing him again. And one things for sure: I will never get tired of kissing Colt Seavers.

I can’t wait to be able to do everything we’ve always done, just as a couple. Puzzles and paint by numbers where we kiss each other over the coffee table. Maybe he steals one of my books and tries to recreate the scenes. Maybe he kisses me after doing donuts in the truck.

But no matter what maybes come true, the thing to remember is that love is the best part of it.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s the line that flashes at the end of the movie, post credits.

Who knows?

All I know is that I love Colt Seavers. And he loves me.

The End <3

#colt seavers #colt seavers fanfiction #colt seavers x reader #colt seavers x you #ryan gosling x reader #the fall guy 2024 #save me colt seavers #fic request

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deanbrainrotwritings · 3 months ago

Text

— BUTTERFLIES AND HURRICANES

SUMMARY : Colt takes you out for a ride…

PAIRING : colt seavers x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), fluff, jokes and fun times, unprotected piv, fingering, handjob, maybe a kissing kink (idk if that's a thing)

WORD COUNT : 6.7k

A/N : title is a muse song. this is part of the @alphabetquest challenge — car sex! (heheh, I have a type) <333 the car has to be a 2022 ford shelby gt500 since it's the first image that popped up when I searched up Mustang in Canva, lmao. ALSO IM NOT DEAD YET AND THIS ISNT DEAN... I WAS SCARED TO WRITE ABOUT A NEW CHARACTER BUT I CANT STOP THINKING ABOUT RYAN GOSLING SO IDK WHY THIS IS LONG SORRY xx

All you could think of was Colt Seavers.

You felt embarrassed with the way he occupied your mind, but it was impossible for you not to fall fast and hard for him. He was funny and sweet and romantic and caring and genuine. He made you feel young and careless, but not in a way that would bite you in the ass once you returned to Earth.

You knew you could dive headfirst into him and his gorgeous blue eyes, and never be afraid that you've wasted your time.

To clear things up, you only felt embarrassed because you needed to get work done. Here you were, staring at the empty script that was waiting to be written, and all you could think of was Colt Seavers. You were embarrassed because, suddenly, all your stories, all your words, and all your characters contained an aspect of him.

Your relationship with Colt wasn't a secret, but the director was expecting certain specific details and plots from you. And he'd know Colt was the reason for the change in your writing, and everyone would know, and Colt would know.

And you weren't sure you were ready for that. Even if you were going steady with him, already shared intimate moments, and it was becoming the norm to wake up beside him. Even if he was effortlessly sweet, and perfect for creating a happily-ever-after with.

He was magical. Refreshing. Good.

He was like a crisp sunshine in the early morning, never scalding, never freezing. Perfect for catching some vitamin… D… No… don't do that, body.

You reached out for the cup of coffee beside your keyboard and lifted it up to your lips. You knew the caffeine wouldn't ease your overactive mind, but it would probably help you focus that energy on a specific task. You hoped very hard that it would be the case, and that you'd write something that make the director, and everyone else on set happy.

"Uh, you, whatever your name is, that's mine."

You stopped drinking and looked behind you, at Colt. He was trying to look serious. You resisted a smile as you licked some coffee from you lips. You looked back at the cup and rotated it to find his name written in black ink.

"I was just making sure it wasn't poisoned," you lied, allowing yourself to smile briefly. You turned around in your chair and held the cup out for him—your smile gone. "It's safe to drink."

"Oh, great," Colt beamed, and crossed the space to take the cup from you. "Wow, someone's boss thinks I'm special enough to save from poisoning."

You stared up at him as he took a few sips, and you admire him, his glowing skin and… beard… remniscing about what it felt like all over your body when he'd kiss you. He stared at you as he swallowed his final sip of the warm caffeine, and you knew he was waiting for you to say something, but you kind of have nothing to say now.

He's so adorable. And beautiful. And you should focus on writing, but the way he's staring down at you is making your heart race, and he bit his lip to hide his grin, and all you can think of… is how much you want him.

"Maybe I should learn the name of the beautiful, brave, and selfless woman who almost died for me, possibly," he started up again, dramatic and very much flirty now. He held out his hand, you took it, and shook it once. You were about to say your name, but he set the cup back down on the table.

You followed the movement, barley began looking back at him, wondering what he was up to, when he tugged you up out of your chair. You squealed as you crashed against his hard body and the smooth leather of his F1 suit. He released your hand to wrap his arms tightly around your waist, and hold you close to his chest.

You looked up and found him smiling already. Colt kicked your chair out of the way and walked you back into the desk, but he didn't lift you up on it. He just kept you trapped between his warm body and the edge of the table, which dug into the bottom of your ass.

"So… I can kiss you, right?" He wondered, staring down at your lips. He licked his own. "We're at that… you know, stage…? Where we do that?" The more he talked, the bigger you smiled, especially since you knew he was trying to actcasual.

"We've fucked before, like… twenty times, I'm not counting, but I'm pretty sure it's around that much," you rambled. You definitely wanted a kiss from him, but he always managed to make your face hot and your heart beat at an insane rhythm. You didn't even know what the point of your sentence was anymore, but it caught him off guard and distracted him.

"Fucked? That's a bit aggressive," he commented quietly, leaning closer. His hands squeezed your hips and you flattened your palms on his chest. Your breaths became heavy, as did his—quick and warm against your tingling lips. "I'd say it was more like making-"

"No, don't. I don't wanna hear it said that way."

"But it was…" he bit his lip and looked into your eyes. "…like… that…" He lifted his hand and brushed your hair away, his hand rested against your jawline and your cheeks heated up.

"Sometimes," you replied quietly, trying to maintain the playfulness. You shrugged. "There were those time where you bit me really hard and-"

He snorted.

"I'm gonna kiss you now," he warned and began to dip down. You held your breath, suddenly, almost virginally, the anticipation of his kiss made you shamefully needy. He stopped, almost touching your lips, teasing you, so you felt his breath tickle your lips.

Then, when you were at the apotheosis of hot, horny, and embarrassed, his lips pressed against yours. Your nerves and neurons exploded at his touch. The coarse hair of his beard and mustache tickled you, but that was what reminded you who you were kissing.

Colt's hand clenched in your hair and his arm tightened around your waist to pull you impossibly close. Your knees weakened when he traced your lips with his warm tongue. You clung to the leather covering his body, breathed shakily against his mouth, and he tilted his face to deepen the kiss.

His mouth met yours again, and his tongue was in your mouth this time. You tasted the sweetness of coffee in him and he tasted that sweetness in you. You felt lightheaded and your arousal skyrocketed, and you worsened it by sitting up on the desk and pulling his hips against yours. You moaned softly against his mouth at the contact, he groaned in response, and nibbled on your lip.

Colt gently pulled your hair and dragged his mouth down your neck, his teeth and tongue followed, all the way down to your clavicle. Your hands moved upwards into his hair, threading through to tug at as you panted for air. Your body felt sensitive and fiery against his mouth, and his body, and his hands.

He rolled his hips against yours, slid his hand down the back of your thigh to press precisely against your covered clit, all with his hand still tight in your hair.

"Colt!"

His name being shouted through the two-way radio ripped the veil of lust and contentment that kept you blind to reality. Colt grunted in irritation against your neck and brought his mouth back up to yours, ignoring the stunt coordinator.

"Where are you? We're starting in five minutes!" You gently pushed Colt's chest and smiled against his greedy mouth.

"We have five minutes," he mumbled against your lips. You laughed softly and kissed him firmly as a goodbye, but his warm and calloused hands sneaked beneath your pink blouse. You drew your mouth away from his, despite his complaints, and he licked his lips as he gazed down at you playfully.

His hand untangled from your hair, he cupped your cheek instead, and slowly began leaning forward, waiting for you to stop him.

"Colt," you whispered, placing your finger on his lips to stop him from diving back in. "You should go," you tried not to laugh. He wrapped his fingers around your wrist and leaned forward to kiss you deeply, then placed two soft kisses against your lips. "I'll see you later," you promised breathlessly.

His thumb brushed against your bottom lip, he his teeth sank into his own as if contemplating kissing you again. But he ended up conceding, "yeah, okay."

Colt udjusted his suit at the crotch area, then ran his fingers through his tousled hair. His natural hair was growing out so only the tips remained bleached from… being Tom Ryder's stuntman... You had a hard time believing his life story was anything but fiction, except there was plenty of evidence proving otherwise.

"Wait, where will I see you?" He stopped and leaned against the door.

"Here. I'll take you to- well, it's a surprise," you grinned playfully. "But it's a gift for me, mostly." You batted your lashes innocently at him. Colt shook his head and laughed, finally heading out.

"Wait, your coffee!"

You were touching up the script, deleting and rewriting lines of dialogue and adding a few important moments that needed to be acted out, all while smiling to yourself as you recalled the way Colt subtly flirted with you any chance he got while standing behind the director.

It was nice to steal a few moments with him when the opportunity presented itself. With Colt being who he is, he pretty much managed to make nearly every moment with you romantic to some extent. Sometimes it was seductive smiles with a hint of playfulness, long and innocent touches with undertones of sensuality. But maybe what you loved most was that he always managed to say something cute, romantic, sweet, funny, sexy, or dorky in a way that most definitely made you blush, somehow.

You weren't going to lie, you were a little excited for tonight. So excited, in fact, that you quickly stopped by the hotel you were staying at to shower and put on a burgundy sundress rather than the jeans and blouse you'd been wearing earlier.

There was a soft knock on your trailer and the door quietly opened, but Colt had already given himself away with a quiet hiss and an, "ouch."

You shut your laptop while you grinned, ready to laugh at him for whatever he'd clumsily done—since he didn't often do anything clumsy on purpose.

He must have gotten the same ideas as you, and gone back to his room to get cleaned up and put something clean on. And he had a small orange moon cactus in his hand; the other hand, he was inspecting carefully. He'd pricked himself.

When he looked up at you, he was as stunned as you were. He dropped his hand after blindly kicking the door shut behind him, and slowly dragged his eyes down your body before returning to your face.

"Wow, you look very pretty." Had the air not blown the scent of his cologne rushing to you, you would have been able to repsond with something as sweet and earnest as his compliment.

"So do you," you murmured, sounding dazed, unfortunately. Still, his cheeks turned bright and he laughed while holding the plant out for you to take. You took it from him carefully.

"I know you said you hated flowers because they reminded you of funerals and hospitalisation, so I got you a plant instead," Colt explained. You couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled out of you hearing that out loud, and coming from him, it was more funny.

He joined in and chuckled softly, seeming a little unsure.

"That's a pretty decent loophole," you sighed, and lifted the cactus so it was at eye-level. "It's cute." He shoved his hands into his jeans, stepped closer and looked down at it with you.

"I named it Shirley," he informed you.

"That's more adorable." Him, the fact that he named it, the name? All of it?

You stopped at the winding road that your friend had told you about. Had she not taken you and your two other friends to see the place, for a picnic date, you'd have never wanted to see Colt in your car, driving the way you've always dreamt of doing.

But here he was, well, he was in the passenger seat, but still. You were going to ask him to drive your car down to… nowhere in particular, just to live vicariously through him.

"What's here? A serial killer cabin?" He looked over at you, a smile playing on his lips. Your eyes skimmed over his gorgeous face, his beauty somehow enhanced with the glow of the vibrant sunset pouring over his face.

"I have a request," you started, watching him lean in close to you, listening intently for your words. He smelled so clean and soft and good—no, that's not the point. "Drive my car, you can stop whenever you want."

"That's… you want me to drive for any particular reason?" Colt looked down the empty road and then over at you, his blue eyes sparkled flirtatiously.

Your heart began to beat swiftly again and your face heated up. "You know… When I was a kid, I wanted to be a NASCAR driver, and writing about an F1 driver is just… you know, do this for me?"

"Really? You wanted to be a NASCAR driver?" He was on the verge of bursting out into laughter, but he also looked genuinely surprised at your confession, so you looked away and shrugged.

"To be fair, I wanted to be a palaeontologist, elementary teacher, and fashion designer, too. Those option would've been… more awesome than… this," you mumbled, looking at the road as the sun hid behind seemingly endless hills and trees.

"I think you're awesome right now," he whispered. You turned to him again, and became flustered by the softness on his gaze and his words. Your stomach somersaulted, he chewed on his lip, and you could've kisses him hard if your heart would've allowed you to relax.

"Shut up," you muttered bashfully. "I mean, thank you. What? Stop it," you looked away from him and he snickered.

"I'll do it," he told you, giving you and your warm face a small break. He started to get out, and you fumbled with the seatbelt to meet him at the front of your car, where it was warmer compared to the cool breeze surrounding you and Colt. "If you wanna stop just tell me. Also, I'm gonna need a kiss," he teased and shrugged casually.

You rolled your eyes, but how could you deny him? The air had been sexually charged the whole ride here, and now that you were stepping closer, you felt like you were being fused to him. Like a massive chemical reaction would occur as soon as you touched him.

You closed the distance between you and him, on your tip-toes. Your hands gripped the colourful green and blue plaid shirt he was wearing, and his hands held your hips, clenching slightly. He waited for you, this time, as your breath mingled with his.

The touch of your lips to his made you breathless instantly, and what was meant to have been an innocent and quick kiss became another make out session. With you on the hot hood of your car, with his fingers tangled in your hair, with yours buried in his hair, and his other sneaky hand lifting your dress higher and higher.

"Colt," you breathed his name out softly.

He released you instantly and licked the taste of your mouth from his lips. "Right, be professional. Totally."

"Not too professional," you smiled and slid down the hood with his help. "Anyway," you looked ahead and the darkening sky, "It's no Nürburgring, but we're not here to check my car's features. What I did check was the traction, it's all good… so…" You clicked your tongue and gave him a thumbs up, which he returned with a grin.

You quickly entered your car and sat in the passenger seat, but when he entered the driver's side, his head hit the top of the roof and his thick thighs squeezed beneath the steering wheel.

"My God… you are tiny," he murmured playfully, adjusting the seat and the mirrors. You snorted, slightly embarrassed. But as you watched him, your wondered if this was a good idea. You wanted to jump him and—no, please. "Alright, how attached are you to this car?" He joked, putting his seatbelt on while looking over at you.

Colt was hot enough as it was, but being there in the car with him as he smoothly sped down the road, making sharp turns smoother than you could've done—you couldn't tell if your heart was racing because of the speed or because of how hot he looked beside you.

You liked the way he handled your car, the way his hands moved adeptly over the steering wheel, the way his thighs became taut with every press on the brake and gas pedal. There was surely nothing more sexy than the sight of him concentrated and cautious, all at once, as he drove at speeds higher than you were brave enough for.

He turned into an empty field and drove straight a fair distance into the tall-ish grass, at first. He was testing the ground, feeling it beneath the wheels as he turned and braked before moving the car in a circle, once and twice, then stopped.

His chest was heaving and he looked alluringy flushed—you imagined that you probably looked similar to him. He relaxed against the seat, rested his hands on his thighs, and looked over at you with an exhilarated smile. He looked beautiful and unexpectedly relaxed.

You smiled back, dazed and… aroused.

"Wow, that was…. you're… amazing," you sighed, looking out at the night sky, a slim orange line of light remained on the horizon. You were too embarrassed by your desire for him, but the darkening sky was distraction enough. For a few moments, the bright star that shined near the moon on the darkest side of the sky captured your attention.

"Not as amazing as you," he exhaled. His hand wrapped around yours and you turned back to him with a blush you wanted to hide extremely bad.

What you really wanted most was for the warm throb between your legs to stop, so the moment could remain sweet and funny, but the way he looked at you, and the way his hand felt in yours was making you feel like you were on the verge of combusting.

You pressed your thighs together and squeezed his hand subconsciously. Before you could attempt to brush it off as nothing, Colt leaned forward to capture your lips with his. The kiss was fueled by adrenaline and by the suffocating lust that had been engulfing you both since the morning.

Typically, you would have pulled away to crack a joke and ease the sexual tension, but you were done with trying to stay away from him. There was no reason to continue being professional now that you were off set.

So instead, you unbuckled your belt and then removed his own—more carefully, so it wouldn't slap painfully against his body. His mouth chased yours anyway and it made your stomach flip. You cupped his face to guide his mouth back to yours, ignoring the course tickle of his beard against your soft palms, and kissed him roughly.

He moaned softly into your mouth, surprised, but kissed you back just as desperately.

You felt him blindly turn the car off, and once he did, he turned to you fully, and quickly started to lift your dress up your legs. Your heart pounded in your ears while he squeezed your thighs. His teeth nipped at your lips, your soft gasp gave his tongue access to slip into your mouth, and slide against yours.

Heat pooled between your legs, dampening your underwear. His warm hand was gripping your hip beneath your dress, so tight it made you moan as he expertly licked into your mouth. It was maddening and you only pulled away to regain your wits, to catch your breath, to see what he was currently feeling or thinking about the whole… You and him thing. In the car.

"Do you wanna…?" He asked before you could, with his cheeks burnt red with a blush. You felt as hot and coloured as he looked, despite the chill of the night. You pressed your thighs together, feeling the wetness between your legs soaking your underwear, which only worsened by staring at the flushed and wrecked state of him. "We don't have to, it's up to you."

Instead of responding, you shoved your dress upwards, and Colt leered at you as you lifted your hips to pull your underwear down your legs. He made you feel, possibly, hotter than you ever felt before, and made you act far more daring than you thought yourself capable of. You would never have had car sex in the middle of an empty field with anyone.

But everything always felt right with Colt.

"Are you sure?" He murmured, lips parting as he watched you climb over the middle and into his lap. He swallowed and carefully placed his hands on your thighs, grateful that you'd kept your dress lifted as you slid over to him.

"Very sure," you reassured him, pecking his parted lips once.

"Okay, cool, cool," he said, voice slightly shaky. You leaned close to him, holding the seat with one hand and trying to find the handle beneath the seat to recline it with the other.

Colt's mouth was on your neck instantly, beard scratching your sensitive skin, his playful and passionate mouth worked like heat conduction with your body. You'd held the handle, distracted by his lips and tongue against your pulse, it was when he pulled away that you mischievously pulled the lever.

"Oh, fuck!" He exclaimed, attempting to sit up straight against the sudden movement. You tried to balance in his lap despite his shock and then he laughed, melting against the seat with his hands in his hair.

"Sorry, I thought it'd be funny," you laughed apologetically, playing with the button of his jeans. You leaned over him and brushed his wavy hair away from his blue eyes.

"That was really mean," he chuckled. You apologised again, but he was laughing with you, and shifting beneath you until he was comfortable. His hands were back on your thighs and moving up higher, reigniting a heat between your legs. "Are you comfortable?" He whispered, watching your face as your eyes danced over his contently.

"Mm-hmm," you nodded, caressing his cheek, just above his beard. "Are you comfortable?" Colt leaned into your touch and you tried, with one hand, to unbottom his shirt, only slightly exasperated by the sight of a white t-shirt underneath.

You turned the light on above you have clearer sight of the buttons. He looked way prettier, even under the yellow light, like honey or gold.

"It's kinda hot," was all he said. You smiled, felt his thighs become tense beneath you, and so you started to undo the buttons with both hands to get him out of the warm layers faster. "Can I… touch you?" He asked quietly, brushing his thumbs along your hipbones.

"You are touching me," you teased, trying to focus on popping each button of his shirt out, and doing the same to his jeans. He shifted beneath you and flexed his hands impatiently on your thighs.

"Can I touch you… everywhere else?" He was being playful, too, now, but if only he knew that the way he was touching you now was somehow turning you on.

"If you get all this clothes off, then yeah," you replied, shoving the warm flannel over his broad shoulders. He chuckled and lifted himself up to shrug the warmest layer off his shoulders, and took the opportunity to kiss you. Your hands clenched the hem of his white t-shirt. You could feel his muscles tightening as he attempted to smoothly remove and throw his shirt in the back seat.

You laughed against his mouth when he yanked it off his wrist impatiently, and eagerly began to pull his t-shirt up his muscled torso yourself. Your hands moved flat against his warm skin, feeling every hard and defined plane of his body with curious intensity. Colt smiled and hummed softly at the cool touch of your hands, his hips wiggled beneath you, urging you to go faster. When his shirt was high enough, he barley allowed your lips to separate, and instantly returned to kissing you.

You threw the shirt in the back, brought one of your hands back down to his jeans, and carefully pressed your hand against his dick. He groaned against your mouth and his hips bucked upwards into your palm. A pulse shot through your clit at the sound and you gently kept rubbing your palm against him to draw more sounds from him and buried your fingers in his soft hair.

"Please," he mumbled against your lips, pulling at your clothes, demanding that you be bare above him. Your stomach clenched and you let him drag your dress up your body, so you were sitting on his lap only in your bra.

You breathed heavily, your skin flushed and prickled as he stared longingly at you. He pulled you closer with his hands on your hips, blunt nails pressing into your flesh.

You leaned into him as he settled back into the reclined seat with your body as close to his as possible.

"Kiss me again," he whispered, his baby blue eyes glued to your mouth, begging for it to be on his again while your hands wandered between your bodies to get rid of his pants.

You dipped down to meet his greedy mouth with a singular firm kiss.

"Colt," you murmured over his kiss-swollen lips, having half the mind to beg him to finally touch you. Except your breath hitched when he fervently leaned forward to capture your mouth with his, licked gently along your lip as an indication of his intentions, and carefully slipped his tongue into the rift made by your surprise.

You could feel how slick you were, your neediness thrummed through your cunt and tingled across your skin wherever his body touched yours.

You mindfully began unzipping his jeans as he devoured your mouth with so much passion your head felt light and your hearing was muffled by your heartbeat.

His lips moved over yours hotly and his warm hands pressed tightly against the skin of your back. He adeptly undid your bra, threw it in the backseat as well, and ghosted his lips down your throat and sternum to kiss your breasts.

You brought your hand inside his jeans, feeling the warm, thick hardness of his dick against your teasing hand over his briefs. He groaned and bit gently at your breast, and his hands trailed down your sides roughly.

You couldn't take it, the feeling of his hot mouth, and the aching need between your legs, and the tingling sensation on your sensitive body following the touch of his skin.

You thread your fingers through his hair, urging his mouth away from your spit-slick nipples. He grunted at the sharp tug of his waves when he ignored you, released your breast with a pop, and gazed up at you endearingly dazed.

"What?" He asked with a playful smile, trying to hide the fact that he was more than enjoying teasing you. You tugged at his hair again, with enough force to draw a deep groan from him, and your cheeks flared up.

He bit his lip when you shoved your hand inside his underwear, your fingertips traced the length of him, feeling him throb and twitch. Colt whined quietly, his brows drawn together, teeth buried impossibly deep into his already kiss-swollen lip. You clenched around nothing and circled your thumb around the leaking tip of his cock. He shakily exhaled your name and lifted his hips into your hand.

"I need you, Colt."

"Fuck… yeah, me too," he panted and started shoving his briefs and jeans down before you even got your hand out. You laughed softly at his enthusiasm and lifted your knee up to the padded console next to the seat to give him more space.

You kissed him again, felt his smug smile against your lips when you tenderly cupped his face in your hands. He followed your mouth when you pulled away to drag your mouth down his neck and collar bone. Your hands moved down his warm skin, exploring what you could of his fit body. You licked at his skin, the dips of his throat, and grazed his collarbone with your teeth.

Your hearing was entirely focused on his heavy breathing and breathy words. You felt his fingers move along the inside of your thigh and you sucked gently at his chest, then bit down on the hard muscle.

"Shit," he grunted, and pressed his hand between your legs. His palm rested against your clit and his fingers circled your entranced. You gasped as your stomach summersaulted and heat spread through your body instantaneously. "You're so wet," he murmured, dragging his glistening fingers up to your clit.

You lifted yourself up shakily, hands flat on his chest, and watched him. His blue eyes first swept over your face as he circled your clit, your thighs shook as you kept yourself up. He bit his lip before allowing his gaze to fall to your breasts and finally, between your legs where his fingers were busy. He looked so attractive beneath you, chest heaving and face flushed pink.

You shuddered when he pressed two fingers into you, slowly and shallowly pulling them out and back into you, and never going as deep as you wanted him to be. Still, he curled his fingers inside you and your breath hitched.

He kept the same rhythm and you flushed as the slowness somehow amplified the lubric sound of his fingers entering you. Your lips parted, shaky breaths slipped from between them, and your eyes fell shut for a few moments before opening again to criticise him. "You're driving me crazy, Colt."

"You look hot when I do that," he admitted unapologetically, and gave you a smirk. You squirmed and clenched around his fingers, embarrassed by his earnestness. And then he continued to tease you, watching your hips move and your body tremble when his thumb brushed against your clit just perfectly.

"Stop that," you scolded, holding his wrist shortly despite the new layer of slick that dripped around his hand. He hummed softly and buried his fingers deeper into you.

"What?" He asked with a grin, moving his fingers faster and pressing his thumb harder against your clit. The sound of your wetness nearly mortified you. "Is that better?" He asked softly, but still teasingly. Your stomach felt like it was free-falling and your thighs twitched, wanting to shut around his hand as your pleasure increased exponentially.

"Please, just…" You leaned back slightly and dragged your nails gently along his abs. Through your hazey eyes you wrapped your fingers around his cock and gently slid your loose fist over him.

"I heard you," Colt mumbled jokingly, jerking his hips into your hand. He gasped when you slid your palm over his wet tip and squeezed your hand downwards to spread his precum over the smooth and hot skin of his cock. He laughed and pulled his fingers from inside you. "Right, I was just- ah, fuck," he grunted, slightly thrown by the unexpected sensation of your thumb rubbing beneath the head of his cock repeatedly when your slid your hand upwards.

"You're such a fucking dork," you mumbled, stopping your own tormenting touch to guide his cock between your legs.

"Uh, yeah, and you're into that." He bit his lip and stared into your eyes, which glittered with amusement at his words. You watched him suspiciously and smiled a little. "I mean, there's also my six pack and when you see me naked, you start-" You interrupted him by sinking down on him, he choked on his words, and moaned with you as you slowly dropped yourself on him. You stretched around him, feeling deliciously full and hot with him throbbing inside you.

Colt gripped your hips tightly once you were fully seated on him. You smirked at the facial expression he made when you clenched around him in your own smug excitement and languidly lifted yourself up with your hands on his chest.

"Let's keep kissing," he proposed breathlessly, bringing one of his hands up your shoulder, behind your neck, and into your hair to pull you forward. You couldn't help laughing at him, but allowed him to bring you down. His soft mouth parted slightly, ready for yours, making your stomach tingle.

His beard tickled your chin and lips when your lips collided, his tongue swiped over your teeth, then slid into your mouth to move against yours.

You lifted yourself up cautiously, nose brushing against his when you pulled away to find a comfortable position and rhythm. But Colt was serious about kissing you and lifted his head to reattach his lips to yours, and thrusted upwards into you.

You moaned into the kiss, forced to hover above him with his steel grip on your hip, and his hand clenched in your hair to keep your mouth firmly against his. He inched you up his body, hips angled slightly, and rolled his upwards experimentally, pushing his cock against your gspot and making it so you clit rubbed against him.

His name tumbling from your lips was muffled by his hungry mouth against yours, his tongue tasting as deep and thoroughly as he could despite the clash of teeth. He fucked you harder, panting and breathing against your lips to catch his breath before kissing you with so much passion you knew your lips would be sensitive in either a few hours or by tomorrow.

"You feel so good, fuck," he grunted against your mouth and sank his teeth into your lip. You whined at the sting, but your stomach fluttered at his words. He licked your lip soothingly and let his calloused hands desperately wander over your body, occasionally flexing his hands over your skin. You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter around him.

"Colt, I-" you whimpered, moving your mouth away from his to bury your face in his neck, feeling the unabated force of your orgasm approaching. His hips stuttered when you sucked softly at his throat and he breathed out your name. You inhaled the scent of him, the shampoo, and body wash, and shaving cream nearly masked by the thin sheen of sweat on his skin.

"Please… wanna see you," he exhaled the words unevenly, nuzzling against the side of your face. His breaths and grunts against your ear made you shiver and tighten around him.

You were too stupefied and saturated with pleasure to lift yourself up, but when his fingers drove into the flesh of your hips and his thrusts became sloppy, all you wanted was to watch him fall apart beneath you.

You lifted your flushed face and steadied your forearms on his broad shoulders, meeting his glossy blue eyes, his rosy cheeks above his beard. His warm breath fanned over your face and you stopped seeing sense in continuing to edge yourself on him.

Pleasure washed over you, his name and praises dropped from your lips in desperate sobs. You clamped down and pulsed around him as you came, trying to fuck yourself slower on him to drag your orgasm out. He cursed against your open mouth and pleasure contorted his handsome face.

His hips snapped upwards and he held your hips down as he twitched and spilled inside you. He grunted your name and helped you ride out your orgasm with him. You were out of breath and your thighs were burning from the position you were in, but your body was tingling with so much numbing pleasure, that you didn't care.

You watched him become more gentle again as he came down from his high with you, that sweet smile returned and his adoring blue eyes turned softer. It made your head spin, the way he looked at you. And right now, you could see all the jokes and loving words taking shape in his mind as he caught his breath.

You took his face in your hands, pressing tender kisses over his cheeks, forehead, nose, and anywhere you could reach. He was smiling the entire time, almost triumphantly, but he looked more shy than ever.

"Was it that good?" He teased anyway, smirking playfully.

"I don't like you," you lied, dropping your hands to his chest.

"Liar," he accused, pressing your hips closer to him. Your sensitive core jolted and he stifled a groan, sensitive and soft inside you.

Colt sat up, breathing slowly against your lips, but he didn't kiss you this time. His fingers ghosted gently down your back and rested on your waist. "Wanna eat some burritos?"

You stared down at him, his blue eyes shining from his orgasm, his face flushed and alive from the afterglow, his wavy hair a sexy mess, and his lips red and plush.

You bit your lip and looked back up into his eyes. He looked wrecked and… happy. It was endearing. It caused a fiery heat to blaze up your chest to your cheeks. "Y-yeah, sounds, uh, that sounds nice."

He stared at you and you stared back, wondering if you'd given yourself away; the fact that you really liked him.

"What?" He smiled, looking at you curiously.

"What?" You shrugged, flustered and pretending that you didn't just realise that you really really liked him. Okay, you loved him. "I said yes."

"Hmm," he tilted his head, eyes moving slowly over your face. You tensed in his grasp and blazed with embarrassment. Run away. You lifted yourself off him, ignoring the dribble of cum slipping down your thighs and over his cock.

You laughed shyly to yourself, slipping away into the passenger seat, where you started to feel the ache in your body as you relaxed. You tried to ignore him, and listened only to him readjusting his jeans and briefs.

"What were you thinking just then?" He wondered, leaning over to take your chin in his hand and force you to gaze into his stupidly pretty face.

"Absolutely not!"

"What? Please, tell me," he begged. You shrugged and kissed his palm before turning away to retrieve your dress and underwear. "I'll kiss you," he offered.

"You'll kiss me either way," you smiled, pulling your underwear up your legs.

"That's true. You're lips are very soft and they taste like roses and they feel like roses, too, and your mouth is always minty. Do you eat?" He rambled, his gaze focused on your mouth. "I mean, of course you eat, I was just wondering-"

"Okay, I'll tell you," you cut him off, your heart began racing at just the prospect. He perked up, but you just couldn't fold. "As soon as we get those burritos! Buckle up, cowboy, I'm hungry."

He deflated slightly, but then he smirked, watching you put your seatbelt on. "Can I at least put my shirt back on first?"

"No, I think I can see a little better in the dark when you're shirtless," you jested, dreamily trailing your hand down his bare chest. His muscles became taut under your touch and he released a breathy laugh.

"I'm driving," he reminded you quietly.

You brought your hand up to his jaw and smiled, scratching gently at his beard. "Whatever," you shrugged, "my car, my rules."

You were about to move your hand away, but he took your hand in his, pressed your small palm into his cheek, and looked at you through his lashes. "I think we should kiss."

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