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adigitaldisaster · 21 days

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♯┆“Save a horse! Ride a cowboy” .ᐟ ★ (2.0)

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Striker x Amab!Reader <3

This is purely horny lmao

Striker chugs down the rest of his whiskey, setting the glass back down on the counter with force, making a loud thud. He licks the amber liquid off his lips and flashes you a toothy grin. “Be right back darling.”

You raise an eyebrow but say nothing, waiting for him to be out of sight before reaching for his black cowboy hat that he had taken off earlier. You always had wanted to try it on, but never had the chance to. Striker always kept it on him or nearby, practically attached to it.

You set your drink down on the counter and place the hat on your head. “Pow” you make a mock gunshot, your hand doing a finger gun and pointed outside.

“Now c’mon sugar, I don’t look like that do I?”

You jump in your stool when you hear his voice over your shoulder, but recover quickly. “Nah, I look more badass.”

He chuckles , “Yeah?” He sits back down on his stool beside you and orders another whiskey. “Ever heard of the cowboy hat rule?”

“The what now?”

He chuckles and looks at the bartender who sets a glass of whiskey down. “Do you know about the cowboy hat rule?”

The bartender glances at the both of you and chuckles. “Don’t drag me into this.” He returns to cleaning cups and attending the other customers.

You look at Striker with a look of confusion at whatever he could mean. He chuckles again and downs his shot in one go, once he swallows he decides to speak again.

“So the cowboy hat rule,” he starts, “is that if you take a cowboys hat and wear it, you gotta ride the cowboy.”

You feel your face burn at his words, your face showing your surprise. “I- What?”

“You heard me sugar” he grins, you can hear the slight rattle of his tail.

You can feel a heat settle in your stomach, making you clench your thighs. You can’t tell if the heat is from the words or from the alcohol, maybe a combination of both. He’s handsome, that much is obvious, his voice has a nice tone to it that’s made even better with his accent, and the way he carries himself is of someone with a high reputation.

“So if I ride you,” You hold in a giggle from the look of surprise that flashes on his face, “do I get to keep the hat on?”

“Do you wanna find out sugar?”

You knock back the rest of your drink and wave the bartender over to pay your tab. Striker grabs your hand and practically drags you out of the bar.

“Slow down there cowboy, we’re not even home yet.”

“Ain’t patient enough for the ride home doll.” He walks up a set of stairs on the side of the bar. Looking up you can see the sign of the bar includes the fact it’s also a motel. How convenient.

Striker pushes the door open and walks up to the counter, and imp who looks similar to the bartender down stairs mains the counter. Striker quickly gets a room, you not really paying attention to their conversation before being pulled by Striker down the hall till he opens a door, quickly pulling you in before closing the door and pushing you against it. His lips quickly meet yours, it immediately becomes a battle of dominance as you pull him in closer by his vest.

When he pulls back you try to think of something snarky to say as you pant but Striker shuts you up by pressing his lips to you. The taste of nicotine and whiskey floods your senses, a taste that was so him you weren’t surprised about it.

He sucks on your tongue and presses a knee between your legs. You can’t help but grind down on his thigh, the friction making you let out a whine.

You reach up to grab something to ground yourself, your fingers finding his snow white hair and tangling with the strands. You give them a tug and he moans into your mouth, pulling away to smirk at you.

“I knew you liked it rough.” you tease.

He chuckles, “You don’t know the half of it.” He walks backwards towards the bed, pulling you along by your waist. He sits himself on the edge of the bed, grinning at you. You smile back at him and sit yourself on his lap, knees resting on the mattress on either side of him, his bulge rubs right against rubs right against yours. He reaches his hands up your shirt and squeezes your pecs.

“Satan,” he groans “I should have given you the damn hat much sooner. I’d give you all the damn hats I own to see you like this everyday.”

You lean and press a kiss on the corner of his lips, “easy there cowboy,” you move your lips down to his jaw and neck, “don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

He shivers under your touch, swallowing hard at the nips you leave over his neck. His hips thrust up when you suddenly bite and suck a dark mark, fingers digging into your hips. “E-easy now darling.”

You drag your hips back and forth on his lap slightly, his hard cock grinding on yours through your pants. He grunts at the friction and you bite your lip to keep the sounds from leaving your mouth.

His hands travel from your hips under your shirt, pulling it up while grinding you. You remove his hat as you take your shirt off and put it on once done. He cups your face with his hands before pulling you down to kiss him again.

Striker moves his mouth down to kiss the top of your chest. He’s gentle, only kissing hard enough for you to feel it. “So pretty…” he whispers.

“C’mon cowboy, do something.” You tease.

He pulls back from his affection. “Why don’t you use that mouth of yours for something more useful than ordering me around darling?” He brings his fingers to your lips, rubbing the tip of his index and middle finger on your bottom lip, slowly pushing them into your mouth. You wrap your lips around them and start sucking them on instinct. “That’s a good boy…”, he praises, “keep at it.”

He slowly kisses down your left pec, kissing around your nipple but not touching it. His mouth and tongue are hot and wet, making you squirm and grind down for more. Striker moans when you dig your hips a little too hard into his.

Finally, he closes his mouth around your nipple, making you moan around his fingers. He’s an expert, having a technique so good it has you whining around his fingers and grinding against his hard on. The friction does little to help the throbbing feeling and only succeeds in making Striker harder. You finally had enough.

You pull away from his fingers, Striker looks up to you with an eyebrow raised. “Did I say you could stop?”

You place your hand on his chest and push him down on the bed so he’s laying down. “I’ve had enough of you being in charge.” You grab his jacket and pull it back to remove it. “It’s my turn now, cowboy.”

You’d never imagine that Striker would have a submissive side. Yet he surprised you by laying back and letting you do what you want.

You brought your hands under his shirt and ran them up his chest, feeling the scars before pulling his shirt off him. Once off you couldn’t help but admire the scars he had over his chest, no doubt from his job. You plant light kisses over his scars and Striker sucks in a breath.

Your hands run lower, following his white happy trail to the hem of his jeans. You remove his belt with a bit of struggle but pop open his jeans quickly once you get it out of the way. You make quick work of the zipper and prop yourself up on his knees to tug his pants off. You’re greeted by the sight of his hard cock straining against his boxers and you could almost start to drool over it.

“So worked up for me,” you sigh with a teasing tone, running your finger across the outline of his dick, applying enough pressure for him to feel it but not enough to get off.

Striker pants at your touch, especially when you start to trail your fingers across the waistband of his boxers. His hands grip the sheets of the bed as you slip a finger under the fabric and run it on the skin under. You hook another finger inside and finally tug his boxers off.

His cock springs out, hard and red with the head dripping with pre cum. It had black rings like on his tail. You grip the base snugly, giggling at the way Striker sighs and throws his head back, his tail rattling due to the pleasure.

You lick the tip, the salty sweet taste of his precum flooding your mouth. He bucks his hips forwards, trying to force more of his cock into your mouth.

You pulled back from his cock, slightly hovering over it. "Not yet, cowboy. You cum inside me or you don’t cum at all."

Striker throws his head back and groans at your words, the mere idea of stuffing you full of his cum and fucking it back into you was almost enough to make him loose it and make him cum. You tug down your pants and underwear almost too eagerly, your dick practically springing out. “You ready cowboy?”

“After you, darling.”

You slowly sink down his cock, you kinda regret skipping part of the foreplay. He’s big enough to make the stretch almost painful, your walls squeezing around him. The two of you moan in tandem as you slide down his dick.

Striker grabs onto your hips, his grip tight enough to surely leave bruises in the shape of his hands. You slide down a few more inches, your eyes almost rolling back due to the pleasure, your hips flush against his once you finally bottom out. Both of you are breathless, Striker's hands twitching in anticipation.

You move up his length and back down slowly, the feeling of his cock stretching your walls was almost overwhelming. Your movements get faster and stronger the more you do, getting confident on what you’re doing.

You start to bounce on his cock, your thighs slapping against his. Your hand goes up to his hat, holding it down against your head so it wouldn’t fall off. Striker helps your movements, guiding your hips, desperate for more friction.

“Fuck,” he groans, using his grip on your hips to slam you down on him, “look so damn fine in my hat.”

You open your mouth to tease him, however you’re interrupted when he lifts his hips to slam into yours. You can feel your orgasm building quickly, precum leaking from your tip. Striker keeps lifting his hips to meet your movements, sliding one of his hands from your hip down to stroke your dick.

The mixed pleasure coming from both actions is enough to send you over the edge, your orgasm rolling through you and cum landing on his chest. Striker makes no move to slow down however, he thrust into you harder, trying to chase his orgasm.

“My sweet cowboy,” he grunts, “cummin’ due to my cock, like a naughty slut.”

You whimper, you can feel your muscles twitching due to the overstimulation. Your hands are on his chest, holding you up so you didn’t fall face first into him. You can feel another orgasm building up already.

“Want me to cum inside you darling?” He coos, “want me to fill you up like the slut you are?”

“Y-yes!” You whine, looking down at him, digging your nails on his chest to keep yourself grounded. “Fill me up, please Striker!”

Your words send him into overdrive, an animalistic sound coming from deep down his throat. His thrusting gets faster, his hips slapping even louder against your ass with every thrust.

You squeal his name, your voice reaching a pitch you didn’t know possible. Your body twitches as your orgasm rips through you. The tightening of your walls is enough to make Striker snap. He gives one final hard thrust before spilling his cum deep inside you, the intense shockwaves of pleasure washing over you.

You feel your mind blank for a second. Striker pulls you down to lay on his chest, petting your hair as he murmurs praises in your ear, you hum to his words as you catch your breath.

When you come to, you snuggle against the crook of his neck, his cock still buried inside of you.

"So, darling, did you enjoy the ride?"

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