#yes he is wearing cowboy boots | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chevvy-yates · 1 year

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[NC_RES]_2717311327 mercs_o-r-c-a_01.file ///core:_the_boyz.file\\\

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Vijay belongs to me. Arki bekongs to @nervouswizardcycle. Ryder, Thyjs & Jaysen belong to me as well.

⚠️ READ: Please do not repost/reupload any of my art here or to any other platform, or I will be forced to do anything to get it annihilated.

This set only exists because when I went to test shoot the gorgeous new netrunning suits made by @gloryride and searched for a nice location I randomly teleported up to the orbital space station and shot Thyjs there — accidentally switching to a saved outfit with one of the awesome standalone netrunner coats done by Corpoghost and I liked it, so yeah!

So, everything else went that way, too. About two weeks ago I also decided to create Vijay's twin brother Jaysen, so I quickly took shots of him as well. And of course I also had to include my beloved Arki in this set because he is part of the team. Can't miss that opportunity (I know he'd have loved more shiny gold but the red black fits so good on him too with that golden coat).

It literally makes no sense that Ry'n'Thy (heh) wear runner suits at all since they do not make use of netrunning — but this is just for the the looks :P. And I damn like the suits on them, ugh. I can still imagine them wearing these suits on missions too, I'll just pretend they are some modified suits not made for netrunning.

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Whats with the O-R-C-A btw?

To 95% I think this is going to be the team name. I don't exactly think mercs actually have team names in the Cyberpunk world but I might chose this as 'team presentation' here from now on and also tag it with that so it can be found when searched for.

More info if you're curious:

Orca — yes the killer whale. Vijay is the 'inofficial team leader' so it's named after a his favorite oceanic animal and it does make sense: Orcas are the apex predators of the ocean (they can kill great white sharks and humpack whales), they hunt in packs and are almost always successful. No one can reach them — one orca alone on the contrary is to be left stranded literally (Vijay would be too).

But it goes further:

'Orca' is the only species in the genus 'Orcinus', which means "of the kingdom of the dead' or 'belonging to Orcus" – 'Orcus' was a god of the underworld — a punisher of broken oaths in Etruscan and Roman mythology.

The name 'Orcus' seems to have been given to the malicious and punishing side of the ruler of the underworld, as the god who tormented evildoers in their afterlife. Like the name Hades, 'Orcus' could refer both to the underworld itself, as well as its ruling deity. In the charitable interpretation for such a place, it was believed to be an abode for purification of the souls of the deceased.

So I was thinking some parts of Night City literally depict some kind of underworld as well: down in the streets (dark alleys and red neon lights, steam coming from sewers and vents, vomitting out all evil settling in there) and Mercs hunt the bad ones — doesn't matter if amongst them or up high in the sky on a seat playing god. And the team is going to hunt them down for what they've done to Night City.

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karenalma · 10 months

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A while back, I found this picture of my son. It was taken while hiking at The New Wave in Page, Arizona. I knew I needed to paint it. It’s SO him. And at the same time looks like an ad for western wear.

I did a sketch at first and sometimes I think I should have just settled for that because every time I tried to take it to a larger sheet of paper, it really did not work out.

Here’s the sketch:

I love the rocks.

After I got a ton of inspiration for getting past some rough spots on my most recent attempt at my painting group. I love those peeps. Seriously, the New Mexico Watercolor Society is the best.

This is still unfinished. (I think I always say that.) still have some tiny details I want to work on, but I love it!

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solarvampart · 1 year

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original trafficsona designs from july.

basic concept is uh leo is a ghost possessing his own body, and he looses control and body becomes more corpse like closer and closer to permadeath

hates having a soulmate. please help him

#art #trafficblr #trafficsona #also yes he wears cowboy boots constantly. he also wears them casually

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imeminemp3 · 2 years

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well. since im still goin to both nights of harry. i wanna do a blue cowboy outfit and a pink cowboy outfit. but i gotta remember to go to spotlight and get like. well SO much stuff so i can make them

#yes i will make 2 pairs of pants AND 2 cowboy jackets #i will definitely not be wearing them for just the concert btw. the jackets especially will be incorporated into my daily attire #it's gonna be... february when he's here right? it'll still be warm but it's ok i can take the jacket off and have some cute top underneath #goes without saying ill also have a cowboy hat but one of those shimmery pink costume party ones #i want lil cowgirl boots for this but lbr maybe not the most comfy for 2 nights of concert.... plus as IF ill be abl to find #an affordable pair. :(((#what i want most OBVIOUSLY is red little cowgirl boots weird girls represent but I'd settle for any cute ones at this point #also and i know this should have been earlier in the tags but are any others from Melbourne going to the con #like ik we are all mad at him rn and im VERY mad at him but i alr have the ticjets and it'll still be fun and obvs I'm dressingbup #anyway idk #Martini getting to me #idk if Martinis im making this week are just strong or if my tolerance is a bit lower from the meds shrugs who knows #diary

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matchaverse · 1 month

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cultural shock | MV1

pairing: max verstappen x sargeant!fem!reader

summary: after a few months of long distance dating with max, you finally head over to europe to spend time with him but you’re hit with a huge fashion cultural shock.

type: smau

face claim: pictures from pinterest

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“what do you mean this isn’t decent enough to out shopping?” you ask ask you look down at your levi shorts, cropped blue tank top and high top converse.

“we’re literally just going shopping, plus it’s hot out max”

“yes babe, but over here in europe it’s expected for people to dress fashionably and chic.” max says as he fixes his dark blue polo shirt.

you stand there looking confused until you pull out your phone and google european casual fashion.

[instagram] yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, logansargeant, and 738,738 others

tagged | @maxverstappen1

yourusername | so i didn’t know there was a dress code in europe 🫥

maxverstappen1: baby it’s much different over there than the states

yourusername: i hate it.

username: y/n getting hit with a cultural shock rn

username: yall expect the southern girl to know european fashion trends?

username: maybe she should do her research 🤷‍♀️

logansargeant: is this why you sent a picture of your cowboy boots and said “rip”?

yourusername: yes😭

maxverstappen1: DO NOT WEAR THE BOOTS

[instagram] maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, charlesleclerc, and 739,849 others

tagged | @yourusername

maxverstappen1 | i couldn’t stop her. 😒

yourusername: U S A. U S A!! 🦅🦅

charlesleclerc: PLEASE 😭😭 why is she like this

yourusername: CANT STOP THE SOUTHERN CHARM

username: oh that’s not…

username: no matter what she wears, y/n slays no matter what!!

username: she’s adorable, don’t make her change the way she dresses

username: 🚩🚩

username: for y/n and her boots? or max trying to dictate what she wears?

[instagram] yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, logansargeant, and 738,739 others

tagged | @maxverstappen1

yourusername | i can now fit both aesthetics 🤷‍♀️

maxverstappen1: absolutely gorgeous in both continents

username: stawp she’s so cute!!!

username: max in a cowboy hat?!

maxverstappen1: yeehaw 🤠

logansargeant: 🦅🦅🦅

yourusername: BRINGING STATE FASHION TO EUROPE

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nvuy · 2 months

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hijacked — boothill

summary. a mission to retrieve some files from a banquet hall goes wayward south when a galaxy ranger shows up to ruin your night—and score some bonus kisses while he’s at it.

notes. save me space cowboy… save me… remembered his entire body is robotic except his head. the possibilities to hack it and take over……….. ngh

HEY YOU!! there’s a sequel now.

warnings. little bit of threatening, mind control/hacking/hijacking? you take over his body for like a few minutes? is that a warning?

“Hey, pretty thing.”

Target locked. Your scanners had already tracked him before you could even realise he was speaking to you.

You swiftly hid away the USB drive in your purse.

Did he know?

It seemed his own eye enhancements—although a lot less subtle than yours—were scanning you down as well. How transactional. You’d hoped the walls you’d put up were enough to keep whatever technology he had at bay. Or at least, not trigger any alarms.

“You looked lonely. Was g’nna buy you a drink. Help you loosen up a bit.” He swished his own drink in your face for good measure. The coupe glass in his hands looked odd. He didn’t seem like a cocktail man. Not at all.

He looked like a whiskey man. Hard whiskey. With ice. In a tumbler with ribbed glass. You could picture it.

He just looked so out of place at the banquet.

He wasn’t even following the dress code. He was wearing boots, and a pair of old pants with zips along the calves. A hat with a white feather woven into the fabric rested on a head of long white hair with splashes of black around his face.

“No thanks,” you said with a wave. You tried to discreetly scan down his body, searching for any sort of hint of how you could get into his system.

His pants and what little material of his jacket hid most of the metal of his body. Internally, you cursed at it. He had no clear openings in his neck or arms. His head seemed entirely organic.

No weak spots.

“N’aww. Shame.”

The front door felt a lot further away now. Even more so, knowing he was most definitely here for you. He hadn’t even introduced himself yet. You had a feeling he knew he didn’t need to.

“Was g’nna ask ya to dance.”

You laughed awkwardly. “I can’t dance in these shoes.”

“Take ‘em off. Who cares?” he bantered playfully. “I’ll watch out for ‘em if they’re expensive.”

“They’re priceless,” you quipped back. “All of me is.”

“Good. You know your worth.”

You were actually worth about fifteen million, as according to your wanted status by the IPC. You weren’t sure if this man was a part of them, though members of the IPC were always very adamant on letting you know that, yes, they did work at the IPC. It was usually the first thing that came out of their mouths.

Questioning if they actually worked at the IPC opened another entire can of worms.

You didn’t feel the need to ask. Not in that moment, at least.

“And what’s yours?” you asked him with a bat of your lashes.

He winked. “Guess.”

You smiled and scanned him down again. “Depends. I’d have to see what you’re made of.”

“Naughty.” He leaned back against the wall with you. “You sure you don’t want that drink? It’s a cosmopolitan.”

Very sure. You were convinced that he’d just taken the drink from one of the server’s trays. You couldn’t imagine he’d walked up to the bar and requested it for himself.

“You strike me as a whiskey man,” you eased. It came past your lips like butter.

He flashed his teeth in warning.

Then, he sipped his drink. “You’re good. Anything else you can read with your fancy eyes?”

You stopped short.

He did know. It wasn’t a surprise, not at all. He wasn’t entirely human. He must have been equipped with similar technology to realise just how advanced yours was.

You realised then with a shaky breath that you had the same vision enhancements as he did. An even match, unable to read through to each other.

He must have had so much more, too. You only had so many enhancements, whereas he was made almost entirely of metal. The thought of amount of different codings and technology he had crammed into every wire of his body gave you a headache.

Bad idea. You shouldn’t have provoked him. You needed to retreat. You needed to get home, preferably safely, with the USB stored nice and snug in your purse.

You tried not to let your nervousness show, but by the way he was staring at you, you knew he could read your face.

“That’s it, then. You’ve figured out my party trick.” You got up from the wall. “Thank you for the offer. The drink, I mean.” You cleared your throat. “I’ll be going now.”

“I’m not scaring you off, am I?” He got up off the wall too.

He hadn’t taken his eyes off of you.

“Not at all.” When you turned to face him, he was smiling so wide his eyes had crinkled. “Have a good night.”

“At least let me walk you out,” he insisted. He also offered to hold your purse, to which you quickly declined. That only made him smile impossibly wider. “What sort of man am I to not see a pretty thing like you get home safe?”

You headed towards the hallway, knowing he was right behind you.

The banquet was still in full swing, barely even close to ending. Most of the cast were drunk or getting there. Heels had been discarded, some missing their pair, skewed all over the dancefloor like glitter.

The golden chandelier in the main room was yet to be pulled from the ceiling. You were surprised nobody had tried to swing from it yet.

You dodged chattering groups and couples in the hallway—one of them had decided to put on a full display while right next to an unoccupied bedroom, right there in the centre of the hall.

Another one was gagging dangerously close to your feet.

You shouldered past them. “Stop following me, Ranger.”

“Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be.” You felt his hair brush over your shoulder.

You knew he had a weapon. He wouldn’t have come to threaten you without one.

Before you could reach the door handle, he grabbed your wrist, pulled you backwards, and into the unoccupied guest room that the couple hadn’t bothered to take.

He shut the door with a loud slam, though not before hearing someone whistle out in the corridor.

Your head snapped towards him. He was leaning on the door, his arms crossed, looking almost unbothered.

“We can play this game all day, pumpkin. I got time.” He waved you off with a grin. “Give me the files. I’m askin’ nicely. I won’t force ya to hand ‘em over. Yet.”

You gritted your teeth.

You were so fucking close. So close to getting out of here, and then he had to come—this walking hunk of metal and scrap—and ruin everything.

Nothing ever went your fucking way anyway. You shouldn’t have been shocked something like this would happen.

You held your purse tightly in your hands. All of this was pointless. The dress, the heels, the hair, the nails, the makeup. All of it.

You just hoped by some miracle that he hadn’t found your locator beacon yet. You’d hidden it well; within the bushes outside away from anyone’s line of sight, but he wasn’t just anyone. He could see things a lot of people couldn’t.

“C’mon. You know you wanna…” He smiled sweetly for good measure. It looked like a threat. When he leaned to the side, the golden barrel of a gun flashed beneath his belt.

You could try to make a backup. Right then. You had what you needed in your watch. He’d probably stop you before it was complete.

Or…

Or what? What else could you do?

Your locator beacon wasn’t responding, though it hadn’t been broken. Most likely deactivated temporarily. You bounced on your heels.

You then formed the worst idea of your life.

With shaky hands, you walked towards him slowly. You reached into your purse, feeling for the cold plastic of the black USB he wanted to get his grubby hands on.

“Knew you’d come ‘round.” He held out his hand expectantly.

You fished the USB from your bag.

Then, before you could place it into his palm, you tripped and almost broke your nose on his torso. Your hands splayed desperately onto his chest to keep your face from shattering on impact.

He was quick to grab your arms to steady you with a surprised grunt.

There was a whirring sound, and then the sound of something mechanical and wrong. Foreign. Not from his body, but from yours.

The spaces beneath his joints lit up abright yellow for a moment before his hands loosened from your arms.

You grinned. Gotcha.

When you pulled back, he witnessed you pull a strange light from beneath his skin before you held it along your fingers.

When he blinked, you had an entire copy of his body in the palm of your hand. A hologram formed of his entire artificial makeup. Every crevice of his body, all of the metal that weaved to make him who he was.

All of it in your hand, with puppet strings attached.

It was missing just his head.

He froze. And then, he rushed out a simple, “what did you do?”

You tapped on his holographic arm on the screen. “Hijacked.”

When you moved it, his arm twitched to life.

Against his will, he pulled the gun from his holster and dropped it to the floor. It clattered uselessly onto the carpet.

He could only simply stare as his body moved against his will. There was no way to even twitch a finger with all his might.

It was like you had shut down all of his systems and replaced them with your own.

He should’ve seen this coming.

You whistled as you studied the model of him in your hands. When you tapped onto his neck, it zoomed in to show every single wire and thread of metal, as well as an accompanying string of coding.

“I don’t need any special enhancements to read you. What sort of cyborg comes in alone to try and stop me? You know who I am, don’t you?”

He wasn’t able to move his body. He said not a word.

“Somebody clearly doesn’t understand their body.” You patted his chest. His fans had kicked in. You could hear them whirring.

He was glaring at you.

“Did the IPC send you?”

After a moment, he scoffed. “Hardly. I don’t work for those… people.” It seemed like he wanted to say something else, but decided against it.

“Huh.” You didn’t think he was lying. “So… you’re not concerned about my bounty?”

“You said yourself you were priceless,” he countered easily. Despite his position, he was still grinning. “And besides, I’m sure my bounty is heaps bigger than yours.”

You almost snapped. He’d come to gloat, even at a disadvantage.

“You look better with your mouth shut,” you spat. You shoved the lining of code in his face for him to see, making the holographic blue screen as large as you possibly could. “I could make you tear yourself apart. I could make you forget who you are. I could alter whatever sort of brain you have in there. Watch yourself.”

Still glaring, but this time his lips sealed almost instantly.

You made him stand ram rod straight as you turned around, now eyeing a golden vanity next to the bed. The bedroom was surprisingly clean, save for a few empty glasses strewn about. No stains, no messes.

You sat down in the chair and angled the mirror so you could keep your eye on him.

You breathed out, trying not to stare at him for too long. You could feel your irritation growing, and it was showing on your face. If you stared at him for any longer, you feared you’d pull his limbs off with your own bare hands.

You fished out the powder from your purse and leaned closer to the mirror.

Maybe if you looked better, you’d feel better.

“You’re seriously dollin’ yourself up right now?” he asked, briskly annoyed.

You dabbed the sponge beneath your eyes. “Can’t let anyone think I let you put your hands on me. I have standards.”

He had nice hair. You weren’t sure if it was real, though. You weren’t sure if he could even grow hair. He was almost entirely artificial, save for his head.

He didn’t seem to age—his face, at least. You weren’t sure how old he was supposed to be, but his organic skin still looked fresh, as if left untouched and well taken care of.

Maybe it’s because that was all he had left of him.

You snapped the powder shut.

The ranger sneered. “Yeah, yeah. I’d beat you in a fight anyway.”

“‘Course you would,” you answered easily. You pulled a stick of gloss from your bag. You swiped the lipgloss over your lips, fixing it with the tip of your nail. “That’s not what I’m talking about, though.”

You stood from the chair, placing the gloss back in your purse.

“You’d never hit me, would you?”

His face almost lit up with fury.

It was absolutely hilarious.

“You’re so lucky I can't move,” he threatened. “You wouldn’t recognise your pretty face in the mirror.”

“Such a gentleman.” You stood on the tips of your toes to press your lips to his cheek. You hoped the sticky gloss bothered him, knowing he would be unable to wipe it off of him. You hoped it stained his milky skin a nice glittery bubblegum pink.

You hoped the scent of your perfume lingered on his skin, and he never forgot your name.

“Of course, gorgeous.” That same mocking tone. “Anything for you.”

You held the USB up to his lips. “Open.”

Begrudgingly, he did so.

You slipped the stick past his lips until his teeth caught onto the plastic and held it still.

“You can have it. I already got what I needed anyway.”

You kissed his other cheek for good measure, lingering for a moment before you pulled away. Two pink glittering stains on his face now; perfectly symmetrical.

“I’ll be thinking of you.” And that you would. You winked at him. “Bye, Boothill.”

Then, with sudden grid lines of yellow forming over your figure, the locator beacon buzzed to life, and you disappeared.

In the blink of an eye, you were outside in the cold night air. There were few people out in the front garden of the building, and none had spotted you.

You picked up the gadget and quickly left. A copy of his body and the USB were now a collection in your own personal belongings.

As soon as you vanished, Boothill regained control of his limbs and fell to the floor, trembling with the after effects of your invasion. His teeth were gritted as he pulled himself up onto the guest bed.

He spat the USB out before he could bite down and damage it.

He held it between his thumb and index finger.

There was a smear of your lipgloss on the side of the USB stick.

Mission accomplished, he supposed.

He also had two matching lipgloss stains on his skin as a trophy. He could see how stupid he looked in the vanity mirror.

He snickered with clenched, shaking fists.

You smelled like strawberry.

#boothill x reader #hsr x reader #boothill x you #hsr x you #honkai star rail x reader #boothill hsr #✦ ( the macrocosmos. )

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starkwlkr · 1 year

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Hahah the moms flirting with Charles. You should write a dad flirting with Ruby’s mom and she tells charles and he’s like wtf

you’re not my dad | charles leclerc

yes, the title is a vine reference 🧍🏽‍♀️

request #2: Could we please have return of baby leclerc, where she's out with her mum and a man starts to flirt with yn but he won't leave her alone and then Ruby is like she happy with my papa and then Charles notices and gets him to go away, pleasee and thank you, I love your work

Ruby loves Texas. She loves the food, the cowboy hats and boots she got to wear everytime she visited the state, but most importantly, she loves going to the hotel pool on a hot day.

It was a nice sunny day in Austin when Ruby woke up her parents demanding them to take her to the pool. It was media day for Charles so as much as he wanted, he couldn’t join his family for a pool day.

“Listen to your maman, be good and have fun for me, okay?” Charles pressed several kisses to Ruby’s cheeks.

“Okay, papa!” Ruby gave Charles even more kisses.

Charles said goodbye to his family, wishing he could skip every interview, but he couldn’t leave Carlos alone.

“Baby, which swimsuit do you want?” Y/n asked the girl, who overpacked. Ruby had practically stuffed her entire closet into her tiny princess suitcase.

On the bed laid two swimsuits, a pink and purple one piece. Ruby took choosing her swimsuit seriously. Pink was her favorite color, but purple was her mother’s favorite. She ended up choosing purple. After putting on her swimsuit, Ruby wanted to wear her goggles, arm floaties and her donut shaped floaty. She probably looked crazy with all her floaties on, but she didn’t care. She was ready for the pool.

Y/n was also in her swimsuit, but had on a pair of swim shorts over her bottoms. When they finally arrived to the pool, Ruby stopped herself from running since her mother had told her about the pool rules.

They found an empty table to put their bags on. Ruby patiently waited for Y/n to take out the sunscreen. To her it felt like forever, but eventually Y/n gave her the okay to enter the pool.

“I’m going to be a mermaid maman!” Ruby yelled as she jumped into the pool. She doggy paddled all over the pool with Y/n keeping a close eye on her.

“Maman! I can swim from here to there really fast! Watch me! Are you watching me?” Ruby called out to Y/n, who laughed at the little girl. She swam as fast as she could to one spot then turned to look at her mother. She didn’t expect to see a man talking to Y/n.

“Hi, there.” The man said to Y/n. “I’m Matt.” He introduced himself.

Y/n politely smiled and nodded. “Hi.”

“You visiting?”

“Sure.”

All Y/n wanted to do was enjoy a pool day with her Ruby Jules but this ‘Matt’ guy decided she needed some company.

From her spot in the water, Ruby noticed the frown on her mama’s face. She hated seeing her mama upset so she swam to the edge. “Mama.” Ruby spoke.

“This your daughter? She’s really pretty like her mama.” He said with a smile. “Hi, little girl.”

Ruby looked at her mama, who shook her head. But Ruby wasn’t letting this man ruin her day. No, they didn’t deserve to have their day ruined by some stranger.

“Only my papa can call me and my mama pretty. Sometimes my uncle Pierre calls me pretty, but you can’t.” Ruby replied, already giving her famous ‘Ruby glare’.

“Well your papa is a very lucky man.”

“Yeah, and he loves me and mama more! I’m telling papa.” Ruby said in a threatening manner.

“Hold on, I’m just telling your mama she’s a very pretty woman. No need to tell your dad about it.” The man tried to defend himself. From her seat, Y/n was enjoying Ruby make ‘Matt’ wish he didn’t come up to her.

“Papa calls us pretty. You’re not my dad.” Ruby said with the most serious face ever.

Matt, feeling scared for his life, apologized and excused himself. He walked away wishing he was anywhere else at the moment.

Y/n chuckled and got up from her seat. “You’re the best, my Ruby Jules.” She took off her swim shorts so she was just in swimsuit and joined Ruby in the water.

“Want to play mermaids?”

When Charles finally arrived, both Ruby and Y/n had showered and changed into their matching pajamas. They were currently watching The Lorax on the tv.

“How was the pool?” Charles asked Y/n as he joined them on the bed.

“Wonderful. Ruby, want to tell papa your favorite part?” Y/n asked her daughter.

“We played mermaids and I swam really fast and then some guy was talking to maman but I made him go away and then we came here and now we’re watching my favorite movie!”

“What?”

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #charles leclerc #anon #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc one shot #baby leclerc series #charles leclerc imagine

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bigguyenthusiast · 2 months

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Ass or tits post but they barely answer the question

NSFW text !!!

Btw if yawll have any headcannon ideas do send them in pls !!! Smooches !!

John price

this is absurd, to think you would ask him such a disrespectful question, I mean if you weren’t dating this is a huge HR violation, plus he won’t just pick like you’re some object he gets to use to his pleasure (thighs and fupas)

Simon Riley

Ass…. No wait he likes tits

Actually he likes ass… but maybe more so the thighs… nah nah it’s just ass … actually here, go wear these outfits and come back to me, I need to make my mind up for sure, you know, for research purposes.

John McTavish

Couldn’t choose, had to go run a few laps to clear his brain

Came back and just held your shoulders and said

“Yes”

You’d be confused and ask him the question again and he’d just look at you with sad eyes and whimper out

“Please don’t make me chose”

Kyle Garrick

Tits, absolutely tits, this man has a thing for milfs, my darlings with big or small tits, if he sees you in a blouse or a tank top that shows your cleavage, he’s running the nearest bathroom to relieve himself.

You had to go undercover on a mission once, having to dress up as a server at a strip club, you needed to have ears on the inside, and he had to save all the footage he was watching… for safety purposes of course, what if he didn’t notice a very illegal bad thing happen to you on his 89th rewatch ?!

Rodolfo parra

Tits, but also into necks, he also loves your back, and the curve of your hips, and how your rolls show when he has you in a weird position, and he loves watching you change or slip into your everyday clothes, how some tights fabrics tug at your pretty plush skin, he loves it when you lay your feet on his lap, silently asking him to rub them for you, watching you stretch, watching you walk, how you interact with others …

Wait sorry what was the question ?

Alejandro Vargas

This whore…. Ass.

He’d slap your ass ever time you’re walking by, if you’re leaning on a counter, on your phone, he would stand behind you and slap your ass bongos, laughing and kissing your temple as you try to smack him.

If he sees you sleeping on your side he will crawl lower and cuddle your ass, it’s just such a nice cushion :(

One time the team all went out for drinks after a successful mission, and you changed into a white tank top, low cut bell bottom jeans and Rudy handed you a cowboy hat as a joke, but all Alejandro could think about is which bathroom is the closest for him to take you.

Also steals your panties after every quickie

Valeria

See….. here’s the thing, Valeria loves one thing, and that thing is seeing you all submissive and ready for her to take, she loves sitting in a meeting with some dealers, her legs spread, you by her feet, hugging onto the lower part of her legs, humping on her dirty boot, your tits pressed against her knee as your clothed pussy rubs in messy motions as you try to get some sort of release, she loves holding a gun to your head, asking you to only make eye contact with her, in a room filled with judging eyes.

She needs everyone to know what’s hers, and what would happen if they even dared to speak of what’s hers.

König

Listen, I see könig as a little weirdo, a lil freaky boy. When he’s infatuated with someone, he won’t be able to find a single flaw in them, seeing your skirt riding up at bit too high that shows your ass that’s covered in opaque stockings, and if there’s a little rip in those stockings, even if the rip is like, down near your ankle, he’s gonna pop a boner.

If you’re a fashion girly that likes to show their body off oh baby he’s buying you anything you want if you just give him a show, tops that barely hide your nipples, about 90% of your tits out on display, one slip and you’ll be flashing him.

Seeing you in his clothes, seeing his hoodie bunched up around around waist as you hold it up a bit, fixing your pants, oh he’s going to jump that hoodie later.

Horangi

Tits, or so he thought, he’s always found your chest gorgeous, what he wouldn’t give to be able to suck on your nipples day and night, that is until you were sparring one time, you had him in a chokehold… with your thoughts pressed against his neck, his head resting on your lap as you look down at him, animalistic fire in them as you grin down at him, all he could think about was how your eyes gazed down on his, how the pressure of your thick thighs pressed against his neck felt like heaven, like the pain in his neck was cured (it wasn’t)

After the sparring match he just had to collect his thoughts, he needed you to be on top of him, preferably with your crotch right on top of his face with your soft sweaty thighs caging him in .

Laswell

This lady……… she’s the hard dom price wishes he was.

She’s so calm and collected on the outside, at her work everyone sees her as this no nonsense lady who refuses to listen to some old fart tell her what she can and can’t do, she’ll always do what’s right

And so when her pretty girl, in a gorgeous dress she got for you, comes to her job, holding a tiny bag filled with her lunch, hair done, makeup looking flawless, and a bright smile that makes her coworkers envy her.

She loves her sweet girl that’s too innocent to notice how promiscuous she looks in that form fitting dress, how her tits press together when she hands her the bag, Kate would simply thank you, kissing you briefly before giving your bum a smack as she tells you to get back home and get ready for her tonight

What? The woman is stressed at work and her girl comes in looking like a goddess in a tight dress, plus it’s not like any of her coworkers blame her.

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spatialwave · 21 days

Text

"yes, sir."

pairing: pre-war!cooper howard x fem!reader word count: 3k ask: “Cooper x Reader where reader’s a girl with a kink for cowboys, and Cooper plays it up for her? Kind of a roleplay situation (smut), also if he’s into how small she is, that’d be great.” warnings/tags: mdni! smut, porn with plot, cowboy/cowgirl kink, size difference, age difference, dom!cooper, sub!reader, oral (m+f receiving), doggy-style, riding/cowgirl, edging/denial, praising, slight verbal degradation, bondage, gagging, you’re cooper’s babygirl. notes: big thank you to the anon who asked for a cowboy kink/size difference fic, hehe. i hope it was okay that i wrote pre war cooper, but when i think of cowboy, i think of him in that slutty little cowboy fit, lol.

“come on, coop, don’t be a prude,” you said with a big smile, standing in front of your partner with your hands interlocked in his, “you played a sheriff before, why can’t you do it for me?”

his lips curved into a smile as he titled his head down, his hat covering the red blush rising on his cheeks, “maybe i am turning into a prude,” he chuckled, rousing a laugh from you as you led him into the bedroom with a coy smile spread on your lips.

you’d been seeing cooper howard exclusively for a few weeks, having weaseled your way into his life a few short months after his divorce had been finalized. you were a young stable girl at the ranch where he’d kept sugarfoot, no longer living with barb in their old house meant he didn’t have the capacity to care for her on his own anymore. it was difficult, but he trusted one of the best ranchers just out of los angeles.

it was a stroke of luck to have been the one to help him the first day he stopped by your grandfather’s ranch, keeping yourself from bursting into excitement as you got his mare situated in her new home. there was immediate chemistry flowing between each other, but you knew cooper was tiptoeing around you, and you couldn’t blame him.

you were certainly much younger than he was.

the movie star came around often, and although he’d spent most of his time riding sugarfoot, you couldn’t count on two hands the amount of times you’d caught him staring at you, covering it up by hiding his eyes behind the cowboy hat you’d always seen him wearing.

the sexual tension was mutual, so you acted on it.

you saw first-hand how incredibly pent-up he was, but you still couldn’t believe how quick he was to say yes when you offered him a blowjob a few days later. you didn’t beat around the bush when you knew what you wanted.

you led him behind one of the stables, covered up by a stack of hay bails, as you took him down your throat like the good girl you were. cooper didn’t last long, choking out a moan as he came in your mouth after a minute or two.

since then, cooper was head over heels for you—the country girl he always wanted. someone who would say yes in a heartbeat if he asked you to go up to bakersfield with him to live on a ranch. it was dangerous territory, he was sure of it, but he’d never once felt so much fire in his heart when he was around you. you kept his spirit young.

likewise, cooper howard was everything you could’ve dreamed of in a man. handsome, kind-hearted, and eager to please.

that’s why he couldn’t say no when you asked so nicely for him to do some roleplaying with you in bed. wasn’t your fault that you had a thing for cowboys, and he just happened to be the hottest one you’d ever set eyes on.

so, there you were in his bedroom in nothing but a skimpy bra and panties set that he bought you a week earlier. red, see-through lace that cupped your perky tits and accentuated the curves of your ass. you made sure he was fully dressed, though, from a cowboy hat all the way down to the worn-in boots.

“see, baby?” you purred, kneeling on the edge of his bed like a minx, “there’s no one sexier than you, cowboy.”

it was hard to miss the flicker of interest in cooper’s eyes as you cooed at him. his cock twitching under his denim jeans that he desperately wanted off.

if this is what you wanted, then he’d sure as hell give it to you.

“don’t talk like you’re the one in charge here. i’m the sheriff around these parts,” he drawled through a smirk, his voice alone making you wet in anticipation, “so, be a good girl and listen to me,” cooper stepped forward, towering over your small frame as a calloused hand tilted your chin up to look at him, “ya’ think ya’ can do that for me, sweetheart?”

“yes, sir,” you murmured, a soft squeak escaping your lips when he pressed his lips against yours in a sudden, passionate kiss that made your stomach twist and turn in all the right ways. his tongue forced its way into your mouth, and you opened your lips for him to taste all of you, but he pulled back just to leave you craving more, “please.” you whimpered.

“shhh,” his lips pulled into a half-grin, and you knew then and there that he was enjoying this power dynamic as much as you were, “i need ya’ to be nice and quiet for me. don’t want anyone else in town listenin’ to what i do to you.”

your lips trembled as you sat patiently in front of him, heat building in your abdomen as your cunt squeezed and ached around nothing. cooper took off his hat, placing it nicely over your head—claiming you as his.

“lay back, darlin’,” he whispered, dipping his head low and following you as you landed onto the soft bed. he crawled over you, pressing wet kisses to your neck, down your chest until his lips teased around the band of your panties, “now, look at how wet you are. i barely even touched ya’,” he chuckled, leaning in to kiss your cunt over the wet fabric.

you held onto his hat, keeping it on your head, as you arched your back and chewed down on your lip to keep yourself from crying out in pleasure.

he tongued at the fabric, finding your swollen clit and giving it attention that you would’ve preferred without your underwear on. you kept quiet, though, knowing that if you were on your best behaviour, ‘the sheriff’ would be sure to give you everything you needed.

a whimper barely escaped your lips when he tugged the fabric aside, cool air making you pulse and twitch.

“christ, baby,” he groaned, “you want my cock so bad, don’t you? i bet you wanna’ ride me until you’re screamin’ my name and beggin’ for me to let you cum.”

you were fighting for your life as cooper’s thumb pressed slow circles on your bundle of nerves, the words falling from his tongue sending your stomach into a fit of butterflies. he had never been so vulgar with the way he spoke, you weren’t sure you’d be lasting long if he kept it up.

“cooper, please,” the words spilled from you before you could stop, a moan choking in your throat, “shit—i mean, sir,” you whined.

a man of his word, cooper pulled away from you, standing at the edge of the bed and watching the way you squirmed without his touch.

“i told you to be quiet,” he clicked his tongue in disappointment, unbuttoning the blue and yellow top that looked so perfect on him. accented with leather fringes hanging off his broad shoulder, and a little golden star on the left side—just like a sheriff, “i thought you’ were goin’ to be a good girl for me,” he sighed, “suppose i need to punish you, until you learn to behave.”

he finished unbuttoning the top, leaving his chest exposed, as he reached down and undid his belt buckle with one hand. cooper pulled the leather out from the belt loops of his denim, and your mind went haywire at the sharp sound.

“lay on your stomach,” he commanded, watching with a smirk as you obeyed. his hands took your wrists, pulling them behind you so he could snag them together until his belt had them forcefully restricted. he let out a whistle, “you look goddamn’ pretty all tied up,” he smiled, large hands reaching down and massaging your ass before pulling your panties off.

you looked over your shoulder at the cowboy, trying to pry your wrists apart, but he was good with a belt. eyes settled on his exposed chest and your mouth pooled with saliva, wishing you could turn around and let him fuck you while your fingernails scratched against his abs and left reddened marks on his skin.

cooper’s hands moved to your hips and lifted you onto spread knees on the edge of the bed, just high enough so he had the perfect angle to fuck you as good as he believed you deserved. you kept your face turned to the side, breathing heavy and biting back moans as you felt his fingers rub through your folds. already you felt your knees wanting to give up, but you willed yourself to stay upright. the last thing you needed was to upset him and be edged for hours—or worse, not allowed to cum at all.

he pushed a finger inside you, heavy-lidded hazel eyes watching your expression as your tight cunt contracted around his digit. your fingers bent and dug into the leather belt as he slid in a second, roughly finger fucking you as your eyes had begun to roll into the back of your head. it was so damned good, but it wasn’t enough—you rocked your hips back against his fingers, silently begging for him to fuck you harder and deeper.

you held back a moan, the sound radiating deep in your chest and loud enough for cooper to hear.

“now, now, babygirl,” he murmured gently, free hand holding your hips still, “once i start fuckin’ you, i promise you can try bein’ as loud as you want.”

that alone made another whimper come from you, an agonizing feeling swallowing you whole when his fingers pulled out and left you empty and exposed.

you opened your mouth, ready to talk out of turn and beg for his cock desperately, but you were met with your panties being shoved between your lips, rightly so. a makeshift gag that would make it near impossible to get any sounds out.

“good girl,” cooper uttered, his hand brushing back hair so he could see your face, “i did say ‘try’, didn’t i?” he chuckled, taking far too much pleasure in the dominance he had over you, and by the looks of you, he knew you loved it.

he shimmied the opened shirt from his shoulders, letting it fall to the ground as he unzipped his jeans and pushed them to his thighs, so his cock sprung free. the cowboy didn’t waste time running the head along your wet pussy, watching as his pre-cum dripped out and coated your entrance. the lace gag muffled your moans as each stroke along you made your thighs quake in pleasure, leaving you a complete fucking mess.

“fuck,” he groaned lowly, holding the base of his cock with his right hand, the other holding your hip up so you didn’t collapse, “i don’t know how you’re gonna’ take this cock,” he breathed heavy, slowly pushing into your cunt, “so small… just a sweet little thing.”

you groaned, your tongue pressing against the fabric in your mouth when tears stung your ears as his cock filled you. he wasn’t wrong, you weren’t sure how you managed to take him; he towered over you in height, and he was very well-endowed. he often fucked you so deep that your stomach bulged with each rough snap of his hips, his hand would press against your lower tummy so he could feel his cock fucking you dumb.

cooper groaned when he reached the hilt, giving you only a few seconds to adjust to the fullness you were a good girl who could take it, you’d proven that many times.

his thick cock slid through your swollen walls and stretched you with each forward push of his hips, balls slapping hard against your clit. you were gagging on the fabric pathetically, the sounds from you nothing more than muffled whimpers.

his hand tugged on the belt strapped tight around your wrists, using it as leverage as he fucked you so hard you felt like you might pass out. your eyes fluttered closed as they rolled back, body shaking in tandem with the bed as spit dripped down your chin after your panties fully soaked in your mouth.

with how tight you were squeezing around his cock, cooper knew you were close.

“don’t cum, yet, baby,” he moaned, head falling back as he rocked hard against you, tugging harder on your wrists so you were pulled up from the bed, tits bouncing with every thrust.

you were seconds away from cumming when cooper dropped your wrists and pulled out—your cunt dripping with juices down your thighs. you landed hard against the bed, face buried in the blanket as it swallowed up the tears streaming down your cheeks from the denial. your lover undid the belt around your wrists, and you were quick to pull them apart, relishing in the freedom to touch where you wanted.

cooper bent down and pressed his tongue to your abused cunt, lapping at you wildly and getting a good taste. you pulled the gag out of your mouth just in time to let out a strangled moan, vibrating deep from your chest.

“fuck, cooper—“ you cried, hips and knees shaking uncontrollably, “you’re gonna’ make me cum, please, don’t stop. i wanna’ cum so bad.”

“you cum when i tell you, you can,” he mumbled against you, hands grabbing tight at your ass as his tongue pushed inside you.

it took everything for you to focus on holding back your climax, the way his tongue penetrated you nearly threw you over the edge, but he was good at knowing your triggers. he pulled back from you, licking his lips as he stood back up on his feet and kicked off his boots and jeans.

“ride me,” he said breathlessly, watching you crawl to your hands and knees as he moved to lay back on the bed with his head in the pillows, “you like ridin’ cowboys, don’t you?”

“yes, sir,” you mewled, chewing on your bottom lip as you moved to straddle him. cooper had never looked sexier to you, his forehead and chest were damp with sweat and his cheeks flushed a perfect shade of pink.

with one hand, he reached behind you and unhooked the clasp of your bra, snagging the fabric from your body and tossing it off the bed. his hands were quick to massage your tits, squeezing your nipples between his fingers as you sunk down on his cock with one quick drop of your hips.

you and cooper moaned together as he stretched you out, your body flushed hot as you pressed your hands to his chest and rocked your hips.

he praised you often, saying sweet little nothing's and showering you in compliments as you rode him just the way he liked it. there was no better gratification than watching the way his face twisted in pleasure as he moaned your name over and over like a prayer.

“i want you to cum in me,” you said through a quick inhale, beginning to lose your breath, “please, sir. i’ve been so good for you.”

a guttural growl came from him as he grabbed at your jaw and yanked you down roughly into a hungry kiss. he licked into your mouth, and you were much too willing to part your lips and let him take your breath away.

cooper lifted his hips with his remaining strength, just enough so he could pull his cock from you and thrust back up, fucking you relentlessly. you buried your face against his neck, gurgled moans bubbling up your throat and into his ear as your body rolled toward the edge once again. his stubble rubbed against your cheek, and it was the only thing you focused on as you held back your orgasm until he gave you permission.

you had become nothing but a toy of pleasure for him, your body limp as he slammed his hips into yours, and the sound of your skin slapping together echoed louder than the headboard banging against the wall.

“you take my cock so fuckin’ good, baby. i want you to cum with me,” cooper whined into your ear, and you could hear his voice shaking, “fuck, i’m gonna’ cum,” he growled.

cooper reached a hand between you and thumbed at your clit, circling it several times in a quick pattern—all you needed for your pleasure to erupt you into a state of euphoria. you saw stars, a fucked out smile on your lips as your cunt tightened around his cock and left you babbling his name as cooper continued to fuck you. his thrusts stuttered a few times, unable to keep up the rhythm as your pulsing cunt milked out his orgasm. he came inside you with a deep-throated groan, filling you with wet, sticky cum.

his body finally gave in, and he collapsed back on the bed with you dropping to his chest. you were both covered in sweat, chests heaving as you caught your breath and gave your bodies time to be still and quiet. relishing in the aftermath of one of your kinkiest rendezvous.

cooper was the first to groan and shift in his position, his body already sore and knowing he’d be aching for a couple days. those beautiful hazel eyes of his stayed focused on your face as you leaned your head back to get a good look at him. he smiled lopsided, making you blush, as his hand brushed hair out of your face that clung to the sweat gathering on your skin.

“you’re so damn perfect,” he whispered to you in that thick southern accent, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips that made you fall in love with him all over again, “my babygirl.”

#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul #pw!cooper howard #fallout prime fic #cooper howard fic #the ghoul fic #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x fem!reader #wordsbyspatial

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mediumgayitalian · 3 months

Text

———

Twenty minutes later, Solace hurries out of his cabin in cowboy boots.

And jeans.

Nico gapes at him.

“Go go go go go, questions later,” Will hisses, herding him behind the Apollo cabin. “We are on a time limit, we gotta —”

“You’re wearing close-toed shoes.”

“Yes, yes, sometimes I wear the clothes that I own. Wild. Let’s go.” Will tugs, uselessly, on his arm, but Nico’s half-certain his jaw has taken root in the ground, cementing him in place, because what the actual shit.

“Solace, you wore flip-flops to the snow-smothered bus stop in January. I thought you had, like, a condition!”

“I do have a condition. It’s called You Are Not Hurrying, Death Breath, let’s go —”

This time when he pulls, Nico stumbles after him, ducking under windowsills and inching around flower gardens. Every time someone so much as looks in their direction, Will plants both hands on his chest and shoves them into a corner somewhere, craning his neck to watch until they move on. Every time he does, another piece of Nico’s soul breaks away from his body and descends into hell. There is an actual trail of bones and tilled earth and dead grass behind him. Will doesn’t need to worry about being stealthy — the death aura of Nico’s dignity is large enough to scare off anything within a four mile radius.

“In here!”

Undeterred by the death aura, for some reason, Will seizes his bicep and shoves him in a crack between the Hypnos and Dionysus cabins. He slips in a millisecond later, crowding him against the warm bricks, forearm pressed awkwardly next to Nico’s head.

“Hnggh,” Nico gasps, mournfully wishing his last sliver of self-respect goodbye. Rest in fucking peace. “Do you have to be so — close, Will, gods —”

“Shhh!”

“If you shush me again I am going to rip your throat out —”

“Go, go, go!”

Yanked forward again, Nico doesn’t have the time to finish his threat. This time, at least, they sprint the final stretch to the shed without any more hiding and shoving.

Thank all the fucking gods. One more second of Will’s stupid torso — since fucking when does he wear polo shirts, huh, what the shit fuck is up with that — pressed against his and Nico’s bronchitis was going to come back. And this time he’s going to succumb to it.

“Okay,” Will says. He stands in front of a tarp-covered lump, gripping one side and jutting his chin out at the other. “On three, we tear this off and start pushing. We need past Thalia’s tree in under thirty seconds. Got it?”

“No,” Nico says stubbornly, “you still haven’t explained what the rush is —”

“One two three go!”

Will, unfortunately, has been tricking ADHD teenagers into doing things they don’t want to do for years, so Nico’s ripping off the tarp and shoving the chariot out of its stall faster than he can register what he’s doing. He practically sprints to keep up with Will, chariot wheels creaking happily as they rush over stones and sticks and forgotten weapons.

“We’re leaving now, Chiron! Bye!” Will hollers, moving too fast to give him a second to respond. Luckily, Chiron is similarly busy, galloping after a speeding Harley without more than a backwards wave and a sharp don’t die, please!

“That dynamite I gave Harley’ll only keep everyone distracted another thirty seconds,” Will mutters, ignoring Nico’s alarmed the fucking what you gave Harley, “so we need to move, let’s go.”

“Will — slow down a half fucking second, Christ, not everyone is seventy percent leg — we don’t even have pegasi!”

“Will you keep it down.” Will looks back and forth, eyes wide, like he’s worried someone is going to pop up with a pack of the winged animals. “Just — stop asking questions! We’re almost home free!”

“You’ve gone insane. It’s finally, actually happened, after all these years, who woulda thought, fully bonkers at age sixteen —”

“Oh, shut up.”

Muttering his complaints, Nico helps him push the infernal chariot down Half-Blood Hill. Among his grievances, he makes it abundantly clear that 1) this is stupid, 2) he did not agree to physical labour, 3) he would not have agreed to come if he had known about the physical labour, and 4) this is stupid.

“Just a few more yards, then we can —”

“Okay, no, that’s it.” Nico lets go of the chariot, letting the wheel dig into the soft ground and send the whole thing halting. He meets Will’s pout head-on; arms crossed, jaw set, foot tapping, refusing to give into those big blue eyes.

“C’mon, Neeks.” A faint explosion sounds off in the distance. Will’s eyes get more pleading, more hopeful. “We won’t have much time after the diversion wears off…”

“You have three seconds before I turn the hell around, Solace.”

“Please?”

“One.”

He pushes uselessly at the chariot. It spins a sad little circle without someone pushing the other side. “Neeks!”

“Two.”

“Alright, fine! Help me push again and I’ll explain on the way down.”

“Much easier when you just do as I say,” Nico grumbles, starting to push the stupid (horseless and therefore useless) chariot again. “Isn’t it?”

Will, predictably, rolls his eyes, although he can’t quite help the smile that pulls at his lips. Nico tells the butterflies that go buck fucking wild in his stomach to go to hell. This does nothing.

“How much do you know about the chariot?” Will asks eventually, after a couple minutes of shoving the stupid thing past a deep trench in the soil, leftover from the war. (Nico is going to set the fucking thing on fire. It’s a flying chariot — shouldn’t it be lightweight? Why is he suffering?) They’re nearly three quarters down the hill, and it takes everything Nico has not to risk it all and shadow travel the last couple dozen feet. Yeah, it might kill him, but then his problem would immediately go away. Tempting does not begin to cover it.

“Uh, big source of drama, right? Apollo and Ares worked together to seize it, argued over who got to keep it?”

He cuts a careful glance over to Will, well aware it’s a sensitive topic. He knows the question isn’t a trap — Will would never do that to him — but it’s probably best to tread lightly. As far as he’s concerned, this is a sore point that’ll take more than a couple years to heal.

Luckily, there’s no tension to Will’s face. “Mhm. I wasn’t there for much of the planning, ‘cause I was busy in the infirmary and also, like, twelve, but it took a lot of time on both sides. When Michael and everyone seized it, though, it glowed gold.”

“…Ah.”

Will snorts at his awkwardness, nudging his shoulder. “Yeah. Sure made it hard for the Ares cabin to claim, as dicey as it may be. Here, help me park it on the side of the road.”

There’s a thatch of weeds and undergrowth separating the road from the base of the hill, so dragging the chariot over is a struggle and a half. Nico can’t help but think that this task would be very easy if the chariot was harnessed to a couple pegasi and flying over the fucking thatch, as it is meant to do. When he voices this very valid thought, Will does not respond.

He does walk into a thistle, though, so Nico feels considerably better about the whole ordeal.

“The thing about the blessing —” Will grunts, yanking the chariot onto the gravel shoulder with one final tug — “is that it’s not that big of a deal. My dad blesses shit all the time. Our cabin is blessed. The infirmary is blessed. Hell, half my scalpels are blessed, and I throw those things out all the time ‘cause they’re dangerous when they get dull. Just because my dad blessed it doesn’t mean we actually have to keep it.”

“Okay…” Nico says slowly, “then why was it such a big deal?”

“The blessing on its own wasn’t.” Will’s voice gets fainter as he lowers himself onto the pavement, dragging himself under the belly of the chariot. Nico is confused for a full three seconds before a particularly rough patch of asphalt snags Will’s shirt and drags, and wow, are those jeans low rise. His throat is suddenly very dry. “Blessing a chariot on the other hand…”

Will makes a dorky little noise of success, crawling back from under the chariot. When he resurfaces, he’s grinning, carved piece of wood the same material as the chariot clenched in his hand. There’s soot smeared across his left cheek, his curls have tangled themselves into more of a mess than usual, and there are three separate scuff marks on his nice jeans.

Nico ducks his head, hiding a smile. What a dorky loser. Even dressed up as he is (boy, has Nico fallen low, if he’s calling jeans and cowboy boots dressed up), he still manages to look like…Will.

A really, really hot version of Will, but. Whatever. Details.

“The hell is that?”

“This,” Will says grandly, feeling around the wall of the chariot until he finds a specific spot, “is the reason my brother gave a fuck about a dumbass chariot.” He sticks the edge of the wooden tool in a tiny groove, wedging it open to reveal a hidden panel and a small, golden button. Nico meets Will’s grin with raised eyebrows, impressed.

“What do you know about Michael?”

“Uh, not too much.”

“You think he, in any reality, would have had that much interest in a hunk of wood?”

Nico had scarcely met him more than a couple times, but Michael Yew made an impression, that was for sure. For someone who was shorter than Nico when he was ten years old, he sure took up a lot of space. In the few times Nico remembers seeing him, he’d been concerned with his bow, his camera, or showing any given person who so much as blinked at him wrong just how quickly he could turn their ass concave. If Nico is correct, actually, the one time he and a pegasus had been in the same vicinity, they’d hissed at each other. Nico didn’t even know pegasi could hiss.

He tries to find a delicate way to say this.

“He seemed more interested in other endeavours,” he says politely.

Will laughs loudly. “He would rather shove an arrow in his eye than race a chariot!” His bright smile is impossible not to match, and Nico is relieved to find him totally comfortable, relaxed; hell, even excited. Usually, any talk of his siblings, even fond, makes him quiet. He’s glad for this change, however unusual. “Man, I loved my brother more than anything, but he was the most ornery motherfucker I’ve ever met in my life. He taught me every swear in every language by the time I was nine, just because he knew it would drive Lee batty. He didn’t care about some spoil of war.”

He smirks, wide and devilish, and Nico’s knees go weak. Dimples like that should be illegal.

“He was smart, though. And he figured, if dad’s blessing made this chariot anything like his own…”

He reaches out and presses the golden button with his thumb, letting go and standing back once he registers a faint click. After a couple seconds, the chariot begins to glow, soft at first, then brighter, then Nico has to squeeze his eyes shut to avoid the stinging burn, and then when he opens them, it —

He gapes. Will grins.

Where the chariot used to be, is now a shiny, brand-new, black and yellow motorbike, two helmets gleaming on the sparkling leather seat.

“…Then it might be a little more than some lousy chariot.”

Without waiting for Nico to pick his jaw off the floor, Will rushes forward. He tosses one of the helmets to Nico — which he barely manages to catch, still working on processing what the fuck just happened — and tucks the other under his arm. Nico happens to notice how his biceps flex with the action, and then vows to have his father bankrupt the entire polo shirt industry, because he can never be caught lacking like this by any mortal soul. It’s humiliating.

There’s a click as Will unlatches the seat, lifting it up to access the compartment under it. He pulls out a bundle mass of black fabric, and with a flick of his shoulders reveals it to be a fucking leather jacket and oh, gods, Nico takes back the polo shirt complaints, he can live with the polo shirt. This is too much. This is —

“Any time you’re done ogling at me, you can climb on,” Will calls out. He doesn’t even have the good grace to look in Nico’s direction, instead sliding on the seat facing resolutely forward, amused smirk on his face. And because he wants Nico to die, actually, he straightens his jacket, making sure it fits his shoulders right (by the gods does it ever) brushes his hair backwards (there is no genuine reason for someone’s hair to actually shine in the sunlight) and slides his helmet on. When he finally does look back in Nico’s direction, through his raised visor, the combined sight of his sparkling blue eyes and the cut of his face under the angular helmet actually gives him tachycardia.

“I hate you,” Nico croaks. “Not joking.”

Will throws his head back and laughs, baring his long, tanned throat. Nico follows the bob of his adam’s apple like Tantalus does the forbidden fruit. It’s horrible, and what’s worse is that Will is visibly preening like the fuckin’ peacock he is. Someone should remind him he’s basically a dressed up turkey. Or something. Nico’s brain is operating at twenty percent capacity, his ability to metaphor properly is a secondary concern.

“Just get over here, you goober. We’re on a time limit, remember?”

Shoving his helmet on to hide his flaming face, Nico does, sliding on with a healthy four inches of space between them.

“Mm, not gonna work, ParaNorman. This thing’s enchanted, we’ll be going well over a hundred. Hold on properly.”

Praying to seven different gods for strength, at once, Nico scooches the agonizing few inches closer.

“Hands around waist, Death Boy.”

“I’m fucking — I’m getting there, you asshole, gimme a goddamn second.”

“Do you need help?”

“I need you to shut the fuck up so I can focus.”

Maybe it’s the healer in him, or maybe there actually is a god looking out for Nico and they decide to have mercy. Maybe it’s a third option. Either way, Will reaches back and wraps his callused hands around Nico’s wrist, tugging them gently forward and resting them on the narrow curve of his hips. Nico holds them there, along with his breath, until some of the panicky tension starts to loosen in his chest, and he relaxes forward, resting his chest against Will’s back.

“There,” he says quietly, humming with approval when Nico’s arms link properly around his waist. He squeezes his clasped wrists once — a silent you good? — and waits for Nico’s minute nod, face buried in the back of Will’s neck, before starting up the engine, revving it twice before leaning forward, body flush to the bike. Nico can practically feel his grin, it’s so clear in his mind’s eye, in the delight thrumming through Will’s entire body, that he can’t help his own smile, too, can’t help but feel the thrum of the machine, the sharp smell in the air. He tightens his hold and Will lets out a loud, whooping laugh.

“Let’s ride, baby!”

With a push off the ground and a twist of a thrusters, they’re off, leaving behind only the echo of the roaring engine and the joyful, startled sound of Nico’s shriek.

———

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stevenose · 6 months

Text

the lonesome border (18+)

a cowboy!steve fic for @moodringeyes

contains: cowboy!steve; gender unspecified reader; reader with a vagina; oral (reader receiving); fingering (reader receiving); piv; reckon you could call him a soft dom; hard feelings; realizations; sweetness

word count: 2.5k

There’s a knock on your door.

It’s a little too late for visitors - the sun has long set, the desert cold. You’re still awake, sitting at your desk with a gas lamp and writing. You sigh when the knocking continues and move towards the door, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders.

Steve’s not wearing nearly enough clothing, arriving only in his usual daily garb. More shocking is the bouquet of wildflowers he holds in one hand, the other still raised as if he’s about to knock again.

“Hi,” he says.

You move to shut the door but he steps forward and shoulders it gently. “Wait!”

“It’s past your bedtime,” you say.

“Then it’s well past yours.”

You stare at each other for a long moment. “Can ya let me in, then? They’ll die out here.” He nods down towards the flowers.

You decide to let him, opening the door wider and allowing him to step in. His boots click against the hardwood and he shivers. You shut the door and lock it. You watch silently as Steve takes his hat off and kicks off his shoes.

“Cold,” he smiles, shivering again. He looks towards your fireplace, at the dying embers, then back at you. “Mind if I add som’ore?”

“That’s fine.”

He watches you for a beat, then remembers what’s in his hands. “These are for you,” he says, taking a step forward and extending them out to you.

You narrow your eyes. “For me?”

He’s a little startled. “Well, yes. I picked ‘em myself this afternoon.”

You cautiously reach out and take them from him, cradling the stems in your hands. He smiles and nods before heading to your fireplace, kneeling before it and grabbing a few pieces of wood.

You only know how to talk to him if he’s on top of you, it seems. It’s otherwise a little sharp and odd. He’s always been a nuisance - a handsome one, to your detriment. Flowers aren’t his thing, you’d figure. Romance isn’t his thing.

“Why?” you finally ask.

“What’d you say?”

You finally move towards him, slow and gentle, socked feet padding against the floor. “I asked why you got me these.”

Steve doesn’t answer you, just fiddles with the fire until it’s glowing. He stays in front of it, taking in the warmth, but he does turn to face you as you sit across from him in a wooden chair. “I saw ‘em and they reminded me of you.”

You face heats, heartbeat quickening, to your chagrin. “Oh,” is all you can muster.

“Do you like ‘em? Tried to find your favorite color.”

“My favorite color? Do you even know what it is?”

And he recites it for you, without even thinking.

“Since when do you pay attention to things like that?”

He sighs, loud and long, fingers playing with the bottom of his pants. “I know I’ve got a reputation with you, and I’m tryin’ to fix it.” He swallows. “I like you.”

You scoff. “You like bein’ inside of me.”

“That’s not true - well, i-it is,” he says, standing. “I like all of you. I like bein’ with you.”

You don’t entirely know what to say, so you just watch as he walks towards you. He kneels down in front of you, brown eyes searching yours, warmed hands on your knees. “I think you like bein’ with me, too.”

You set the flowers aside, on a walnut end-table. You feel transparent, see-through, as he looks at you. “And what makes you think that?”

“You let me in,” he says, smiling.

You bite the inside of your cheek. “It was cold.”

“What a sweetheart,” he grins toothily. “Takin’ pity on me.”

“Letting you around me is taking pity on you.”

Steve’s hands slide up your thighs, pushing your nightdress up with it. “You mind takin’ some more?” he asks quietly.

Now you’re comfortable. Your hands move down to touch his. “What’s in it for me?”

“Flowers aren’t enough?”

You smile coyly and shake your head. “No.”

“How about I give you what you want?” he says, leaning forward a little. His thumbs rub your thighs gently. “What you need. Be a real gentleman and take care of you.”

You wish you could argue, but you can’t. You like when he takes care of you. When he’s on top of you and giving and giving and having you take it. Telling you what you want and determining what you need. It makes you throb, his hands so close to where you want him.

You part your thighs, biting back a smile when his eyes go a little wide. He quickly gets a grip on you and pulls you forward, your cunt level with his face. “There we go,” he coos, hands reaching for your underwear and gently pulling them down. You bite your lip and watch, chin touching your chest, as he stares at your aching core.

Steve finally leans forward and kisses the inside of your thighs, tickling you with the bit of scuff he has. Your hands find his hair and simply rest there - you know better than to tug.

“What do you say?” he asks softly.

“Please?”

He looks up at you through his lashes and laughs. “Try again.”

You try to be a little more sensual, moaning slightly. “Please, Steve.”

His teeth dig into your thigh - not soft, but not too hard. You gasp, brows furrowing. “Please, I need you.”

“You’re so good at beggin’ but you can never say thank you, huh?”

You feel like a fool, cheeks heating and embarrassment spreading hot through your chest. “Thank you,” you say. “Thank you, Steve.”

Now he leans in and engulfs your pussy with his mouth, hot and wet. He licks a broad stripe upwards, laving over your clit - and then he suddenly nips it, making you gasp.

“Thank you for what?”

You swallow hard and try to think. “The - the flowers, thank you for the flowers.”

“Hmm.” He licks his lips, then rears back to spit on your cunt. You gasp again and then cry when he buries his head between your thighs. This time, he sucks on your clit, nice and gentle. It makes you squirm, back arching off the chair as you watch the top of his head under your dress. Your fingers tangle up in his sun kissed strands.

Steve’s ruthless. Like he’s been starving for it all day. And maybe he has. You wonder about it - if his pants were tight while he bent down to grab the daisies and lilacs for you. If his mouth watered. If he was unfocused out in the field because he was thinking of you. The idea is exciting, and scary, but you don’t think much of it now. Not when his tongue and lips and jaw are making you unravel quickly. You’re already feeling close, crescendoing towards a climax.

“Steve,” you whimper. “I’m close, so close….”

“Go on,” he drawls, voice thick. “Take it, let go.”

Your breath picks up and you finally snap, gasping and moaning and humping his face while his fingers dig into your plush hips. Your eyes squeeze shut and your thighs clench around his face, forcing him to moan. He doesn’t stop until you relax, and then he’s quick to slide you off the chair and onto the floor.

“Hey!” you squeak, but his mouth envelopes yours before you can tell him off. He’s ferocious, licking into your mouth, transferring your taste onto your tongue. You gasp a little, grabbing at his biceps like he’ll keep you grounded.

Steve finally kisses away from your swollen lips and down your jaw, occasionally licking your skin as he moves to your neck. “What do you say?” he asks, pressing his lips against your ear.

“Thank you, Christ, thank you!”

One hand moves between your legs again. His thumb finds your clit, swollen and recovering, and he presses down on it. Your eyes roll, hips jutting up. “Ah!”

“You can take it,” he mumbles, teeth scraping your neck. “Be good, I know you can.”

Steve pulls away when his middle finger extends out, teasing your entrance. He looks down at you, hungry, cheeks red. He watches your face twist as it slowly sinks inside of you. Your head tilts backwards, exposing your throat, pushing your tits out and God, he can hardly stand it. How pretty you look stretched out and overstimulated on his fingers. Your nails dig into his back and threaten to rip holes into the fabric.

“I’m gonna make you cum again,” he says softly, his middle finger down to the knuckle. He curls it, watches your breath catch and eyes widen. “And again.” His thumb swipes across your clit and you jerk. “And again. Until you learn your lesson, pretty thing. Til you’re fuckin’ grateful.”

“I am!” you swear, pleading up at him. “I am, Steve, I’m so grateful for you -“

“You sure?” he asks. He fucks you steady with his finger now. “I know this cunt’s grateful. Are you?”

Your skin crawls, stomach flips. “Always,” you say, looking into his eyes. It’s the truth. “I’m a-always gr- ah! Grateful f’you.”

Another finger slides in, stretching you on it. Your mouth falls again, brows furrowing from the pain-pleasure.

“You might not like me, but your pussy does. You’re gonna ruin the floor, darlin’, so fuckin’ wet.” To prove his point, he finger fucks you fast - you can still hear your pussy over your moans.

“Sh-Shut up,” you mewl, fighting the urge to roll your eyes back.

“Me?” he pants, keeping up his momentum. “Your cunt’s the one talkin’.”

He curls his fingers again and you wail.

“Oh, and so’re you.”

You try to retaliate, digging your fingernails into his shirt and pulling, tugging, feeling close to falling and overwhelmingly irritated. His free hand moves to grab your wrists and hold them up above your head. Steve’s fingers slow, and he sort of tilts his head at you.

“It really bothers you, huh?” he asks softly, his thumb back on your achy clit. He circles it slowly. “Thinkin’ about bein’ with me?”

You don’t know how to answer. It does bother you, but not like it should. It bothers you because it’s scary and makes you anxious - territory not yet explored. Territory you’ve been told to stay away from. It bothers you that you want it.

“I don’t know,” you answer.

He sighs, looking down at you sadly and letting go of your wrists. “I guess I can take that.”

Then his fingers are moving fast on your clit, back and forth, and you’re cumming before you even know it. You scream, which Steve silences with a kiss. It’s much more tender than usual. His lips move slow and methodically against yours, moaning into your mouth while you moan back. It’s intimate, romantic, makes you melt before you can stop yourself.

You pant when he finally lets up, sitting back on his haunches. His hands shake while he fiddles with his zipper and pushes his pants down enough to free his cock. You’d usually be tuned in on it - instead, you’re focused on Steve, the way his cheeks glow from the fire and his blood, how his hair falls in his face, how his throat constricts as he swallows.

“Gotta feel you,” he mumbles. “You can take my cock, right, peach?”

You nod and reach out for him. His cheeks turn redder at the notion.

He pulls one of your legs up to lock around his waist and leans forward, towering over you, sliding his cock up and down your folds. You tremble as the head kisses your clit before he pushes it against your entrance. “I really got you stupid, huh? Just how you like it, right?”

You hum and nod, your eyes falling shut.

“What’s your lesson, darlin’?”

“B-be more grateful.”

Steve sinks his cock into you, watching your face intensely as your mouth drops and brows furrow once more. He couldn’t possibly tire of the sight. “That’s right,” he grits out. “Are you?”

“Thank you for the flo-flowers,” you whisper. Your hands come up to cup his cheeks and you let your eyes open, just a little. “Thank you for takin’ care of me.”

He kisses you again, soft and slow while he pumps his hips. You sigh and moan, rocking your own hips to meet his. It’s the most intimate you’ve ever been with him - he’s usually quick and hard in bed. Now he’s slow and smooth and gentle, filling you up completely before pulling out and pushing back in. His pelvis meets your sore clit and stimulates it again.

“Steve,” you whine.

“I know,” he shushes, kissing your cheeks. “I’ve got you. Always got you.”

You nod and tremble under him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, pulling back to drink you in. “So pretty, wish - wish….”

He never finishes his sentence. Just keeps fucking you slow and tender, moaning and gasping and whimpering. Every sound he makes has you clenching.

“Where do you want it?” he groans, nudging your jaw with his nose.

“Stomach.”

He chuckles. “My favorite.”

A shaky hand moves down to your core and he strokes your clit one, two, three times before you cum again. It’s weak, sort of painful, but you clench around Steve so hard that his orgasm hits him almost too swiftly. He gasps and pulls out, wrapping his hand around his cock and groaning gutterally when he paints your stomach with his cum.

And then it’s over. He kisses your forehead and lets your leg rest back down on the floor. You’re both sweaty and exhausted, but you watch with hooded eyes as he tucks himself back into his pants.

“You alright?” he asks, getting up on his knees and holding out a hand to you. You muster your strength and let him hoist you up, your dress falling down onto the mess on your stomach. You cringe, but you still lean into Steve when he embraces you, holding you to his chest.

“You alright?” he repeats, running his fingers through your hair.

“Yeah,” you say after a beat. “I’m fine. Are you?”

He kisses the top of your head quickly before moving away from you, leaving you feeling cold and alone. “You have another one of those?” he asks, nodding his head towards your nightgown.

“Why? You wanna keep this one?”

“Maybe,” he grins. “You need somethin’ to sleep in?”

“I have more.”

“Alright.” He turns away from you, reaching into his back pocket for his rolled tobacco and matches. He lights a cigarette as he grabs his hat, then struggles to get his shoes on. You watch him in silence.

“I’m off,” he says, turning to look at you again. “Promise.”

Stay, you want to say. Add more wood to the fire and stay with me. But you just nod. “Busy tomorrow?”

“Next few days,” he sighs. “See you soon?”

“Soon,” you say softly.

He smiles, nods, and walks out the door. You walk to it, partially wanting to swing the door open and call him back, but you only flick the lock back into place. You pause before heading back over to the bouquet he’d gotten you, now a little wilted. Your fingers touch the petals. Soft, velvety. Kind of like him. You bring them to your nose and smell them, then walk towards the kitchen for a vase before you change.

#steve harrington smut #stevenose posts #ns/fw #steve x reader #cowboy!steve #thanks again finch!!!

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whipped-for-kpop-fics · 25 days

Text

There's a snake in my pants - K.MG

🤠Who; Kim Mingyu (Seventeen) x gender-neutral reader 🤠What; Crack/humour. Some fluff. Established relationship. Himbo Mingyu! [I love himbo Gyu] 🤠Word count; 2.3k 🤠Warnings; Profanity. Critter mentions (literally the word critter plus snake but uhhh not the animal). Misuse of a lasso, bad Mingyu, but it's funny dw. And no one gets hurt. Mentions of pervert/voyeur Wonwoo but it's not plot relevant. Very suggestive in general but no smut or actual sexual actions. Reader wears lingerie.

Although there isn't any smut, this is definitely an 18+ fic so Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in the bio.

Summary; Your boyfriend wants to try a new sexy roleplay idea, it doesn't go well.

-2024 Masterlist-

A/N- This goes out to @ourdawnishotterthanourday , I hope you enjoy reading this as if you don't already know exactly what's going to happen anyway from my screaming about the himbo cowboy collective (omg series idea???) Thank you for encouraging me to live my best crack life, sweetheart 💖 And big thank you to @wonuvs for helping me so much with the header, I know it must've been hard to look at shirtless Mingyu so much 💖

Approximately twenty minutes ago, your lovable idiot of a boyfriend told you to go and wait on your bed for him, gave you a wink then skipped off with an excited giggle. Which, cute, yes, but also very very worrying.

As much as you adore Mingyu, you are very aware that he has some rather questionable ideas in general, what with him being what you would call a Class A Himbo; and unfortunately, he has brought those questionable ideas into the bedroom on more than one occasion. There is now a strict rule about no balloons in the bedroom and likely not for the reason you think.

So although you do go to your shared room and get dressed down in a lingerie set you know that he likes, you truly can't say that you exactly have high hopes for whatever your boyfriend has planned.

When the door creaks open, you're confused because all you see is Mingyu's hand appearing from one side to nudge the door open as wide as it can go. It takes a few pushes of his fingers before the door does actually swing open and then his arm darts back. A second later, Mingyu gallops into view and you don't know if you want to laugh or mentally log out more.

Because gallop isn't even an inaccurate description of the way he enters. Like a child pretending to play cowboys with one of those long wooden poles with the plush horse's heads set on one end with attached reigns. You can't tell if the fact he has one of those children's toy horses makes it worse or not. You can't even admire the way his thick thighs, showcased by just the tiny pair of boxer briefs he's wearing, are pressed tight around either side of the thick wooden pole to keep it upright with both of his hands barely fitting on the tiny little loop of faux-leather that makes up the reigns.

All Mingyu is wearing are those tiny little dark boxers that don't even fully cover his asscheeks, a cowboy hat and cowboy boots. Oh, and there's some thin dark rope looped diagonally over his bare chest. That can't be good.

"Howdy partner." Mingyu starts, entirely serious in his roleplay and doing his best to put on the 'cowboy voice' you know that he and his friends have been practising together to be 'real cowboys'.

Even though you're still trying to figure out exactly how you feel about this particular roleplay choice of your boyfriend, you can't help but at least humour him. He's far too cute and sweet in general to not try, at the very least, to play along. "Howdy, cowboy," You reply, a little dumbstruck yet Mingyu lights up brightly all the same.

He wiggles slightly in excitement, forgetting himself a little in his joy, then remembers he's supposed to be a 'sexy, serious cowboy-man' and schools his expression. He doesn't even notice the amused twitch of your lips at his slip. "I'm new to town and I hear you're the person to come to when there's trouble."

"Oh, there's trouble, is there?" You hum and shuffle to sit up against the headboard. You're internally very relieved when he removes the horse and props it against the wall. It's much easier to take him seriously when he's standing there in all his ridiculously handsome glory.

"Yes, ma'am." Oh, you could get used to him saying those words in that voice, pitched slightly lower than normal and a little rough. Maybe their 'cowboy meetings' have been more successful than you've realised. Because Mingyu, nor his friends, have improved very much in the actual horse riding aspect of being a modern-day cowboy. But at least the voice is getting good.

"Sounds serious."

"It is." He steps a little closer, hands on his hips and you can't tell if it's intentional or not but it draws your eyes to his crotch in those tiny boxers leaving nothing to the imagination. Not that you need to imagine what he's packing underneath when he's always so willing to let you see, and feel, and taste. "Do you think you can help a cowboy out, ma'am?"

"Keep calling me ma'am and it sounds pretty likely." You mutter and lift your gaze back up to his face. He's smirking at you now, well aware of how much you love his body. "Tell me, what's the issue, cowboy?"

"Well, you see, it involves a certain critter," You try not to giggle at him using the term critter, you can't help it when all you can think of is the endearing way he and his friends will call any living animal or insect critter; often in a loud screech when a bug flies too close to them.

"Ooh, I see. You have a critter problem."

"That I do, ma'am."

"And a big strong cowboy like you can't handle a single critter?"

"I'm more skilled with the bigger critters."

"So this critter is small?" You wonder how many times the two of you will use the term critter, it really does not help set the mood, just amuses you honestly. This situation has already devolved in your mind and Mingyu hasn't even noticed, he's still very serious about his big-boy cowboy role-play.

"Yes," His face drops. "Wait, no! It's not." He pouts a little, barely a little protrusion of his bottom lip.

"So it's not big enough for you to handle yourself, but it's not small?" He nods and slips back into character. "How big is it exactly?"

"Big enough." You think you understand what he's trying to do here. But you're willing to let it play out at least.

"Okay, give it to me."

"Give it to you?" His eyes round out a little with the excitement those words bring him.

"I mean, tell me what it is." You correct and try not to giggle at the disappointed little oh he lets out, understanding the miscommunication there.

Though, once again, he gets right back into character and locks his serious, sultry gaze on you as the tips of his thumbs hook into the waistband of his boxers without removing his hands from his hips. "There's a snake in my pants." Yup, that's about exactly where you thought he was going with this.

"I can't believe you've defiled my childhood like that, Mingyu." You deadpan, unimpressed. His arms drop along with his expression.

"What? What did I do wrong? It's just a line!" He whines. "Wonwoo taught it to me!"

"Wonwoo?" You sigh. "Baby, what have I told you about listening to Wonwoo where sex is involved?"

"That he's wrong that sitting in the tree outside our window with binoculars isn't a natural biology lesson no matter if he takes notes." He replies in very much the tone of a man who has had those very words drilled into him many times.

"I…well yes, that is a very good one, thank you for remembering." Mingyu perks up a little at your approving response. "But that's not what I meant."

"Uhm," He thinks hard. "That he's wrong that you have to bark during doggy style." That particular memory sends shivers down your spine, you had hoped to forget it.

"Also very correct and please don't bring that up again."

"I'm sorry, I really thought he knew what he was talking about!" Mingyu defends quickly. "He's so smart, baby!"

"Uh," You don't know how to respond. Wonwoo is not smart, he may look scholarly with his glasses and cardigans when he's lounging around, but he is, like your boyfriend, just another pretty himbo. All four of the group are and you still can't tell who's the worst of them. Still, you adore the four and would never change a thing about any of them, even if their dumbassery has caused a lot of trouble since they moved to town. So you move on. "The point is, Gyu, you shouldn't listen to Wonwoo's sex advice, ever. Remember that?"

"Oh, right, yeah, you've said that before." He nods slowly in understanding, looking kind of dejectedly down at the bedframe. He looks like a scolded puppy, it pulls your heartstrings enough to want to try and salvage the situation.

"Was this whole roleplay Wonwoo's idea?" You wonder. Mingyu looks up at you and shakes his head, lips pouted cutely at you and eyes big. "Yours?"

"Yeah. And Seungcheol's. You've never told me not to take sex advice from him!"

Okay, you have to admit, Seungcheol is probably the only one from Mingyu's three besties that you think would give pretty decent sex advice, you know he at least has active ongoing experience with a friend of your own and they've always sung his praises. Wonwoo is…well nobody knows for sure if Wonwoo has ever actually had sex. He kind of gives off horny virgin energy, honestly whenever sexual conversations come up but he's always been pretty smooth when flirting so it could go either way. And the fourth of their group is precious, naive Seokmin; you know he has experience himself but he's a very sweet guy and always seems scandalised when anything out of vanilla is mentioned.

"Okay, then I'm willing to pick this back up if you really want to try it, sweetheart."

"I do!" Mingyu beams and suddenly looks as if you've offered him the world on a silver platter, drizzled in sweet syrup ready for him to slurp up. Oh, does that remind you of another one of his slightly less questionable bedroom surprises. But that's an entirely different story. "Okay, okay," Mingyu takes a few breaths to calm his visible joy, it's so cute watching him bring his hands up as he inhales deeply then turn and push them palms downwards to the floor as he exhales.

He may have some very odd ideas, but man, did you score an adorable sweetheart of a boyfriend who you hope will never change and always remain this way. You've not even been together that long, just a handful of months really, but you're pretty sure he's it for you. Your forever. The one you want to spend the rest of your life with.

When he's collected himself, he turns back to you and decides to entirely bypass the whole snake in his pants section, wisely so you think, and starts to remove the ropes from around his torso. He only knocks his hat off twice, though you barely notice because now all you can think about is the fact that it seems like you won't be the one to have to bring up bondage.

While you're wondering if your big beefy boyfriend is about to hogtie you and have his way with you, Mingyu gathers the long rope in his right hand and then takes one end into his left. It's then that you notice the very distinct large loop in one end.

Horror spreads through your body as you realise that Kim Mingyu has brought a fucking lasso into the bedroom. "Gyu-" You start in warning yet he's already pulling his arm back and launching the rope in your general direction. You yelp automatically, expecting to get hit in the face, yet it doesn't touch you. There's a loud crash on your right so you look over only to find that the only remaining one of the pair of bedside lamps is now in pieces on the hardwood flooring, the loop of Mingyu's lasso caught around the shade. It's like the balloon incident all over again. And now you have no bedside lamps, thanks to Kim Mingyu.

There's pure silence for a tense few seconds as you both stare dumbly at the mess on the floor.

Mingyu's whisper breaks the silence "Fuck." And then you burst into howling laughter. "Babe!" He whines but you can't stop, toppling over onto your side on the bed with the power of your laughs.

The whole situation has been a mess from start to finish. It's a miracle you lasted this long without some kind of breakdown. You're just glad it's the laughing kind and not the mental kind.

It takes a minute of poutily grumbling about working him hard on the scenario, learning how to tie a lasso knot and modelling endless hats and boots for his friends so they can help him pick the right ones before the humour of it all actually hits Mingyu.

It starts with a little giggle and then he looks between you and the broken lamp a few times and has to flop across the bed as he laughs along with you, uncaring that his hat falls off.

Slowly, both of you stop laughing and calm enough to look at each other. You're still grinning like fools and there are tear tracks down your cheeks from it, but you're happy. He's happy. That's all that matters.

Mingyu shuffles over to you in a manner that makes giggles bubble out of your throat until he's on his side close enough to lean in and press a soft kiss to your lips. "I love you," He informs gently when he pulls back to look adoringly into your eyes. Your expression softens and quickly melts into the mirror of his own as you brush your fingertips over his cheek.

"I love you too." You reply, smiling as he lays his hand over the back of yours to hold it in place as he turns his head to kiss your palm, planting his love right there where you can keep it safe for as long as you want to. And then he looks back at you and holds your palm to his cheek. "Just no more lassos in the bedroom,"

Mingyu laughs and nods in agreement. "No more lassos in the bedroom."

"House in general. Indoors. No lassos indoors."

"Okay, baby," He giggles and kisses you once more sweetly before getting up and picking his hat up off the mattress to plop on your head when you sit up. You adjust it so that you can watch as he crouches down beside the broken lamp to begin cleaning up the mess you made. And as you watch him, there's only one thought on your mind.

Yeah, he really is it for you.

A/N- Believe it or not, the original idea that caused this one has a much higher crack content and I may have to write that too. This story can be considered a spin-off of that, or one in the collection of the same universe focused on the 4 himbos and their adventures.

#wkcnet #svthub #seventeen x reader #seventeen fic #svt x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen crack #svt fluff #svt crack #svt fic #seventeen mingyu x reader #seventeen mingyu fluff #seventeen mingyu crack #seventeen mingyu fic #svt mingyu x reader

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 7 months

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was thinking abt how reader uses cowboy spence’s boot.. 🤭 maybe a drabble w praise kink n begging reader

oh you beautiful, beautiful mind... I could kiss you. yes. word count on this is 800ish. as always, reblogs are much appreciated!! they keep me going and circulate my writing!!

warnings - smut. cursing.

cowboy!spencer masterlist. masterlist. inbox.

"You like them?"

Spencer takes the boots out of their box and slips them onto his feet, clicking his heels together.

"Sweet girl," he begins, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I love them."

He looks at you tenderly, before pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. His eyes darken, scanning over your hopeful face. There's something rolling off of him now, in molten, smoky waves. It's pure lust.

He steps into you, leaning down so his mouth is against your ear.

"You wanna help me break them in?"

His tone is low, honeyed, full of mischief. He has a plan that you're not yet privy to. But you will be. Soon.

"You fancy a walk or something?" you smile, running your fingers across the flannel stretched across his chest.

"Not exactly what I had in mind."

He nips your earlobe, running his tongue down the expanse of your neck and back up again. Oh, you think. It's that kind of an evening.

Spencer takes his hat off his head and places it on yours gently, tilting it up so he can see your face.

"You know what they say, honey," he chuckles. "Wear the hat, ride the cowboy."

"Is that what they say?" you smirk, fingers flying to his belt buckle.

"Nuh uh. Different kind of ride, this time."

He looks down to his new boots and pushes your shoulders gently, helping you get the message. You quirk a brow at him, making sure you've understood him correctly.

"Oh," you say slowly. "Break them in."

He winks at you as you sink to your knees in front of him, unsure of where to go next.

"Go ahead, cowgirl," he encourages. "Ride it."

He juts one boot out, grinning in amusement as you try to figure out the logistics.

"Stop thinking so hard, honey."

He takes the hat off your head and strokes a hand over your hair comfortingly, giving you a nod of reassurance. You flip up your skirt slightly and settle over his boot, hovering on your knees. Spencer intertwines one of his hands with one of yours, encouraging you to use it as leverage. You settle your other hand on his broad thigh, squeezing the taut muscle.

"Oh, you look so pretty down there," he drawls. "So perfect, baby. You're a dream."

"Please, Spence."

"Please what, baby? Go ahead. Take what you need."

You pout at him, bottom lip jutting out. Your big doe eyes find his, like butter wouldn't melt.

"You can do it, honey. I know you can."

You settle down over his boot, shivering when the cool leather grazes the insides of your bare thighs. You sit your weight down fully, rocking your hips slightly.

"Keep going, sweet thing. That's it. Use me."

You work up a rhythm, forward and backwards, keening when you hit the material just right. Every now and again, Spencer rocks his foot up and down, adding vibrations.

"Please, Spence. Please. I can't do it."

"Yes, you can. Hey, look at me. You can do it. I know you can. You're doing so well."

His honey sweet words settle into your core, saccharine and sugary. He's looking at you like you hung the moon just for him. You would, if he asked.

You rock even harder, the slick between your legs soaking through your underwear and making the glide easier. You've got an iron grip on his hand and his thigh, using him to your advantage.

"Fuck, you're so gorgeous. Good girl, that's it. You got it. Keep going, baby."

Spencer can't take his eyes off you, glued to the way you look so lost in your own pleasure. Your irises are glazed over, mouth dropped open, chest heaving as you work towards your release. He holds your hand even tighter, helping you move.

"So close," you whine, bottom lip catching between your teeth. "Please, Spence. Please."

You're not even sure what you're asking for, solely desperate to find your end.

"Come on, honey. Come for me. Show me how pretty you look, that's it."

You finish with a shudder, gentle moans spilling from your lips. Spencer rocks you through it, guiding you. When he's satisfied you're satisfied, he picks you up under your arms, sitting you on a chair. He kneels down in front of you, carefully moving your hair out of your face.

"You okay?"

You nod with a gentle smile, legs feeling like jelly. Spence grabs you a glass of water, watching you like a hawk as you drink it.

"Shower?" he asks, chuckling as you extend your arms to him.

You wrap yourself around his neck as he picks you up, carrying you upstairs to the bathroom.

"I love my new boots, honey," he whispers in your ear. "Thank you."

"I love them too," you reply, both of you chuckling. "Love you, cowboy."

"Love you more, pretty baby."

@khaosprism

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