“Well, of course they do. I mean look at me. Way way better than Albus or Switchy.—“
COLT GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE. I WILL TRAUMATIZE YOU 100X WORSE
“ You wouldn’t dare! YOU ALREADY MADE ME KILL MY DAD- YOU BETTER NOT TOUCH HIM”
Hhahahahahahahah I AM YOUR GOD. Now shoo.
Here you go @featherandcrystal
⸻
Title: “Practice Makes Perfect”
The two of you had ended up in the abandoned comms shack near the ridge—half rusted, mostly forgotten, and quiet enough to hear your own breath. Dust motes danced in the fading light from the cracked roof slats. You’d both snuck away after another loud, chaotic mission, looking for peace.
Colt leaned against the wall, arms crossed, mechanical tail curled behind him like a lazy question mark. His eyes watched you—not in a predatory way, but with that maddening spark. The one that said he knew something you didn’t.
“You’ve never kissed anyone,” he said, more statement than question.
Your stomach flipped. “…So?”
He pushed off the wall, sauntering closer. “So nothing. Just surprised. You got that face people wanna ruin.”
You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t step back when he closed the distance.
“Wanna learn?” he asked, cocking his head. “Properly? No weird teeth bumps, no panic tongue, no second-guessing. Just… the real thing.”
You hesitated. His voice was velvet over smoke, too casual for how warm your skin was suddenly feeling.
“You’d… show me?”
Colt’s grin softened—not smug now, but sincere, which somehow made it worse. “Darlin’, I’ve been told I’m the best damn teacher this side of the Varkari Divide.”
You nodded slowly. He stepped into your space, one hand resting lightly on your hip, the other hovering near your cheek.
“First rule,” he said, voice lower now, “it’s not about mouths. It’s about tension.” His thumb traced the corner of your lower lip, feather-light. “The pause. The build-up. That moment right before contact? That’s where the nerves live. And nerves are good.”
You forgot to breathe.
Colt tilted his head just slightly, letting his nose brush yours. “Don’t chase. Let them come to you. Let ‘em want it.”
Then he waited.
And just when you leaned in—just when you thought he’d meet you—he whispered, “Second rule… always start soft.”
His lips brushed yours. Barely there. A ghost of warmth, like a secret whispered to your skin. Then again, firmer this time. Patient. Intentional. Not rushed, not greedy. Just present.
He pulled back a hair’s breadth, letting you feel the loss. His eyes stayed locked on yours. “Don’t be afraid to breathe through it. Let yourself feel it.”
This time, when he kissed you again, it was deeper. One hand cupped your jaw, the other settled just behind your lower back. He guided you like a dancer, letting you follow, adjust, learn. His mouth moved slow—pull, pause, press. A language of rhythm and pressure. Every motion deliberate.
You sighed against him, involuntarily. He smiled into the kiss. “See? You’re getting it.”
His lips found the corner of your mouth. Then your lower lip. Then back to center, giving you the chance to return the favor.
“Third rule,” he murmured between slow, hot breaths, “never let ‘em forget it.”
When he finally pulled away, it wasn’t abrupt—it was like the world exhaled around you. He rested his forehead against yours, lips slightly parted, breath warm.
You stared at him, stunned.
He chuckled. “Told ya. Best teacher.”
You swallowed. “I think I need… more practice.”
Colt grinned. “Lucky for you, darlin’… I grade on effort.”
⸻
Got it—here comes a much spicier, more intense version of Colt teaching you how to kiss, amped up with heat, tension, and Colt’s signature rough-around-the-edges charm. Still tasteful, but enough to leave your heart pounding.
⸻
Title: “Close Enough”
The bunker room was dim and quiet, nothing but the low hum of old generators and the soft tap of rain against the corrugated ceiling. You were alone with Colt—too alone. He lounged against the cot like it was a throne, shirt half undone, scars on display like a challenge. That tail of his draped off the edge, twitching now and then like it had thoughts of its own.
You hadn’t meant to admit it. That you’d never kissed anyone. But it slipped out between stories and sarcasm, and now he was staring at you like you’d just asked him to break a rule he wanted to break.
He pushed up off the bed slowly, like a storm gathering momentum. “You serious?”
You nodded, trying not to look like you were bracing for impact.
Colt’s smirk was different this time—darker, slower. “That’s a dangerous thing to tell someone like me.”
You swallowed. “You gonna teach me or not?”
He was in front of you in a blink, his hand lifting your chin with two fingers, tilting your head just enough to make you feel exposed. “Kissing’s not about mouths, sweetheart. It’s about power. Push, pull. Want. You ready for that?”
Your heart hammered so loud you were sure he could hear it.
“Yes.”
His hand slid to the back of your neck. Warm. Calloused. Anchoring. “Then pay attention.”
He didn’t kiss you right away. He hovered. Letting your breath mingle, letting you feel the tension stretch tight between you. His lips grazed yours just enough to tease, just enough to make you lean in—and that’s when he took control.
The kiss wasn’t gentle.
Colt kissed like he fought—fierce, precise, overwhelming. His mouth pressed against yours with heat and hunger, dragging a soft gasp from your throat that only spurred him on. His tongue slid past your lips, slow and coaxing at first—then deeper, licking into you like he had something to prove.
He groaned softly into the kiss, one hand gripping your hip, the other tangled in your hair. “Relax,” he murmured, lips brushing yours. “Let me show you what it’s supposed to feel like.”
He kissed you again, deeper now, coaxing you to respond, to press back, to move with him. Your hands fisted in his shirt without thinking, anchoring yourself to something real while he tilted your head and devoured you with maddening skill.
“Fuck,” he breathed against your mouth. “You kiss like you’re starving. You feel that?”
You nodded, dazed.
Colt chuckled low, dark, eyes burning. “Good. ‘Cause I do.”
His mouth dropped to your neck, teeth grazing your skin—not biting, just marking the space as his for the moment. You shivered, breath catching. His tail slid behind your knees, coiling lightly—like a warning, or a promise.
“I could teach you more,” he said, lips brushing your pulse. “But we’d end up breaking that cot.”
You choked on a laugh, breathless. “You’re unbelievable.”
Colt leaned in, mouth ghosting over yours again. “Darlin’, I’m just gettin’ started.”
