Cowboy!miguel - Tumblr Posts
EL VAQUERO
ᥫ᭡。 SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A COWBOY
A long-ass drabble.
Riding on cowboy! Miguel. Enough said. (The second picture is from @/farevalee9s on X/Twitter.)
MINORS DNI | MATURE CONTENT
/
"I wanna be on top!" She beams, sitting on her haunches, planting her feet onto the soft mattress. Miguel glanced over at the woman from where he was lying down.
"You want to be on top, princesa? Aren't you going to tire yourself out?" Miguel chuckles.
"Can't I at least try?"
"Whatever, don't tire yourself out then."
/
The woman happily straddles down on Miguel's lap, feeling her legs tremble before settling down on the soft mattress. She pulls off her warm sweatshirt, revealing her perked nipples.
A conceited grin slowly paints on his lips before his eyes trace her bareness. Stretch marks decorated her hips and lower stomach, which glistened in the bedroom light. "You know, I never noticed your beauty mark before," His calloused hands traced her figure, and he felt her warmth radiate to his palms. "It's cute."
His hands grasped onto her wrists and moved her hands to her breasts. "Play with yourself."
She looked down at him before she moved her wrists away from his hands with a simple turn on the wrists and grabbed his instead.
"Then help me." A breathy whisper escaped her lips as she placed his hands on her breasts. The callouses on his hand against her skin sent chills down her spine, feeling goose pimples slowly form on her vertebrae. Miguel's hands grasp the soft mound of flesh gently before resting his palms on her nipples. Then her palms trace his calloused hands.
Her soft, gentle touch contrasts his hands. Her nails were always clean and done, occasionally decorated with tiny gems, flowers, and trim-painted designs. His hands contradict hers, fingernails trimmed, sometimes having her help clean the dirt and grime underneath his fingernails.
Her hands were the same ones who always tended to him, even in moments like this.
"I want you." His voice rasps deeply, sending her heart to a flutter.
"But I'm not something for you to buy." She whispers coyly, a breathy response against his croon.
Her hands reach down to his fly, slowly unzipping his jeans and unbuttoning him. A noticeable tent forms at his boxers as she palmed at the bulge before freeing him from the restraining fabric against his cock.
The sight of his aching, swelling cock twitching before her is enough to make her mouth salivate as she eyes the precum tracing down a prominent vein.
She shakes the thought away before she straddles on him again, sliding the gusset of her underwear to the side and slowly sliding down into his length. The aching bulge bullied into her cervix, sending shockwaves of pleasure in her lower stomach.
Miguel felt her aching core rub against his aching cock. Her hips a couple of times, quietly whimpering to herself and adjusting herself.
Miguel grinned to himself as his hand grasped onto her hips. "Okay, let me help you-"
"No, no... I got it." She huffs confidently. She straddled herself once again, but tried something different. With fluid motions, she shifted her weight onto one leg before picking up the other leg.
Miguel opened his mouth, ready to comment something snarky, but his words were erased from his mouth as she placed her hands on his chest. She moved her weight to his chest and slowly began to bounce on his length, feeling him move in her with ease. A content hum vibrates on her sternum.
A small groan escapes the man, feeling his hands rest on her hips. "Come on; you can be louder than that..." She asserts softly, slowly bouncing into a frantic pace.
Then something filled her ears.
Miguel O'Hara lets out a moan, following a whimper.
She bit down on her bottom lip, soon picking up the pace. Beads of sweat slowly formed on her forehead, soon allowing the sweat to glisten on her skin.
"Carino, por favor." Miguel groans, now moving his hands off of her hips and grasping the bedsheets with a vigorous grip, turning his knuckles pale.
He takes off his hat and places it on her head, making it adorable for Miguel as it looks like she is trotting on a horse, but instead, it is his cock. “There you go…” He compliments.
Low, rough grunts filled the space as Miguel looked at the sight before him. Her tits bounced, her lengthy hair moving occasionally with her movements while she placed a secure hand on the cowboy hat.
“Get closer to me for me, nena…” Miguel softly pleads, keeping his eyes on her breasts. Without thinking, she leans closer, letting the cowboy take a nipple to his lips, suckling and lightly nibbling the sensitive nub. His teeth lightly grasped on the nipple before tugging on it playfully and suckling on it. He lets go of the nipple, seeing how her soft muscles bounce a bit after he latches off.
“Good boy…” She cooes to the man below her, feeling her orgasm building up. “Are you close?” She softly moans, keeping up the vigorous pace.
“Cariño, pro favor. Let me finish inside…”
The sinful act kept up while Miguel continued to deal with his inner turmoil to not finish immediately after all the teasing and bantering he told her. “Por favor, let me come…”
“Go ahead, baby…” She pants, feeling the cowboy hat tip down a bit, shielding her eyes. “I’m all yours.”
I CANT FIND A WAY TO FINISH THIS BUT YEH
Alright
*clasps hand*
I love you so very much, and I’ll be watching you from your window. (Inside joke)
How about… cowboy!Miggy spectating a gal and her pals, she’s challenged to ride one of those rodeo bulls by her friends and fell like, three seconds in. Obvi she failed, so she has to go get another round of shots for her friends. So he took the opportunity to offer some lessons with the cowboy himself😇
EL TORO 🐂
✭ 18+ Cowboy! Miguel O’Hara x fem! Reader ✭
✭ summary: losing a bet with your best friends, you buy drinks after failing to stay on a mechanical bull for eight seconds, but before you buy another round of drinks, a local cowboy helps you…
✭ content warning: sexual innuendos, Miguel is a little unhinged, dry humping, grinding, cumplay (?), cum-eating (?), semi-exhibitionism, hook-up with a stranger, and alcohol is mentioned. VIEWER'S DISCRETION IS ADVISED.
✭ word count: +1.8k words
✭ a/n: AUGHHHH cowboy! Miguel has me in a chokehold omfg. but here you go, pookie! thank you for your undying support and love! Your wish has been granted 💋 (if there are flaws, I apologize in advance 🩷)
MATURE CONTENT MDNI | MINORS WHO INTERACT WILL BE BLOCKED
Orange opaque lights make up the dimly lit bar. Locals from around were either at a table, drinking away from those green beer bottles you grew familiar with ever since you were younger, or seeing your uncles consume those bottles at a baptism or a wedding banquet. Or you saw the occasional burnt middle-aged man sitting at the island counter, rambling to the bartender about his day, complaining about his cattle or the weather. But for you, you came to the bar unwillingly, as your best friends insisted that you liven up the environment.
But really, it was a pathetic excuse to get you out of your grandparent's bungalow home and to meet someone.
・º♢
"Come on! It'll be fun!" Xina urges, flashing her signature smug smile that always appears when she's up to something mischievous. It was always the same arrogant look she did whenever y'all were kids when she got extra chips or a cookie from her pantry closet. Hell, it was the same look your other friends gave you whenever your grandmother or grandfather offered them fresh fruits from their farm.
"No," you quickly retort, sipping your cocktail. "Please!" MJ pleads, grasping your wrists and seemingly ready to kneel. "PLEASE!" Xina soon exclaims, joining MJ to cause a scene with those around you.
"Xina, MJ…!"
"PLEASE!" They draw out the last syllable together, their voice taking on a childish tone reminiscent of when they were eight years old, fleeing from a honey bee or spider. "Okay! Okay..." You groan out, shaking your head in defeat.
"Yes!" Xina pumps her fist in victory before removing your fruity margarita from your hands and placing it on the table. "Now get on! And if you don't last eight seconds, you pay for our next round of drinks!" A low groan emerges from the back of your throat like alcohol stinging your esophagus, ready to escape. But your body, unfortunately, didn't want to do that for you so you could weasel out of the bet. You look back to see MJ at y'all's table, keeping an eye on the drinks while looking at Xina guide (dragging) you across the bar.
Your shoes squeak against the wooden floors as you get pushed to the mechanical bull area. "Just stay on there for eight seconds, and you don't have to pay for our round of shots." You and Xina passed through the semi-packed bar, occasionally brushing shoulders from a couple of guests in the bar. But one character caught your attention, nearly knocking you off your feet.
His russet brown eyes burned into your soul while his cowboy hat shielded the glisten in his eyes, giving him a dead look by any bystander who dared to make eye contact with him. His eyes match yours, lingering on your orbs. The prolonged millisecond of eye contact seized when he smirked, his eyes lingering on you and you only.
His hands, weathered and rugged, bore the marks of hard work - dry, with occasional scars and scratches, yet exuding strength. They were the hands of a hard-working man, capturing attention as much as his eyes did, capturing attention as much as his eyes did. His shirt was unbuttoned, clearly showing a bit of his chest and hair peppered. Oh, how it would feel to be held in those strong hands... Or how his hands would hold onto your hips while bouncing on his dick—
"C'mon! It's your turn to get on!" Xina urges, directing your attention away from the man and to your inevitable end of the night- falling off a mechanical bull within three seconds.
/
You sit at your table, hair somewhat touseled about while you order the next round of drinks for you and your rowdy group of friends. You looked at the half-assed served shot glass and glared at your best friends as they took their shots. With a sigh of defeat, you walk to the bar counter and take a seat on the wooden stool, covering your face and hiding away the embarrassment.
You settled onto the bar counter, absently running your finger along the smooth rim of your shot glass. A sense of intrusion picked at your gut as you felt someone trespassing on your personal space. Glancing to your left, you saw the familiar figure of the man from earlier, seated a few stools away. Your eyes dart back to the tiny glass in your hands, playing with it.
"You couldn't last eight seconds."
That sounded more evocative than it had to.
"Excuse me?"
"3.4 seconds." He adds, not acknowledging the rhetorical question you spat out. "You're those women having to give up straddling like how a car needs an oil change."
What the—
"What does this have to do with anything?"
"You lack balance, sweetheart. And movement." He lifts his shot glass, calling the bartender to refill his shot glass. "It’s straightforward."
"Oh yeah, since you seem to know everything about it, give me some constructive criticism then." You reiterate, knowing that this man was going to play the smartass card with you by sharing information that is useless or already known by the public.
"You’re not engaging your core, and you don't have any balance on your hips." He sighs before mumbling about city folk and getting off his seat. "C’mere." He waved his hand over, ushering you to get close. You didn't know if it was your being an actual dumbass, but you got off your seat and made your way over.
"M’kay," He sighs before getting off his seat and touching your hips. “It's all here, sweetheart. You have to move with the bull; it's called inertia," His hand rests on your hips and squeezes that specific area. "Always move in the opposite direction of the mechanical bull."
"If the bull moves forward, you move back. And if the bull moves back…?"
"I move forward?"
He nods before patting your tummy. "And engage your core a bit. You have abs under there, sweetheart."
His words of advice continue but they muffled out while taking note of his hand resting against your soft stomach, feeling the heat of his palm.
You take note of his words and stop. "Wait, how do you know how to do this?"
"Take it or leave it." He mumbles before he takes his shot and slams the shot glass down. "Actually," He clears his throat and sighs. "Tell them you want to redeem yourself, then tell your friend, the one who dared you to ride the bull, to buy the bill, and I owe you a drink if you make it past eight seconds."
"And if you don't, you owe me a drink."
He removes his hands from your soft stomach and sits back on the stool. "It’s your decision, sweetheart."
You think momentarily, considering the options he placed on the table. The idea of not having to pay a tab and getting a free drink sounded satisfying.
"Will you show me how?"
"Sure, why not?"
/
Sitting on his lap in the darkest, dingiest parts of the bar was not in the plans, but your pigheadedness said otherwise. You straddle down on his lap, resting your hands on his shoulders. "Keep your balance, sweetheart." His right hand pats on your hip before bucking his hips against yours, earning a low groan from him.
"Engage your core and move in the opposite direction of me." His warm breath fans your face before he bucks his hips once again to your clothed sex. A soft mewl escapes your lips, feeling his clothed bulge against your clothed entrance.
"You can do it, c’mon…”
You pathetically moved against his aching bulge, pushing your moist gusset against his denim jeans. "There we go, move your hips to gain balance, move with me."
His dick twitched underneath you, pushing up to be free from its constraints. You slowly gyrated down, bucking your hips against his movement, creating a comfortable tempo.
A choked groan verberates your chest, sending the sensation to Miguel, earning a low moan from the man. "C'mon, keep it up." He jerks his bulge upwards, finally finding its way in between your clothed folds. You wailed, feeling his length now against your clothed clit, rubbing against the sensitive bud slowly and deliciously. You could sense the arousal trickling down to your soaked gusset and gathering the slick arousal in the cloth. "You can do it."
You patted his shoulder and took in deep breaths.
"Try again." His usual staid words slowly evolved into breathy whimpers. Miguel's words of affirmation slowly died, becoming breathy moans and grunts. The typical demands slowly turned into begging as you continued to push downwards, feeding the desires you two desperately wanted.
"Muneca..." He rasps out before you see his hands scramble down to his belt.
The sound of his belt clinking was enough of an indicator, but you knew what was next. The sound, let alone left you salivating with anticipation.
"Grind on the length."
Oh... Oh.
Glancing down, your eyes widen at the sight. Sure, he was pushing seven inches but the girth... With your left hand, you move the gusset of your underwear to the side and slowly guide your aching core down to his length, slowly enveloping his length into your soaked folds.
A low groan verberates your chest cavity, soaking the length of your slick, sticky arousal. The slippery sensation of your clit gliding down Miguel’s length, creating delicious friction.
"C’mon, move your hips."
Your body went on autopilot on that demand, relying on your slick arousal to move fluidly on his length. "You're a fast learner, aren't you?" He groans out quietly, still holding onto your hips.
Soft pants and groans filled the small space and evolved into loud guttural groans from both of y'all.
"Sweetheart, slow down a bit." His breathy request fell on deaf ears before you did as he demanded. "You're humping me like I'm your pillow." He groans out before he adjusts you off his length, feeling the slick linger onto his skin.
He takes his pointer and middle finger, gathers the slick off his length, and places said fingers at the bottom plush of your lips, lightly tapping them, almost asking for permission. "Seems like you understand what I say," He pats your rear lovingly with his free hand before you suckle on his fingers, tasting the mess you left behind. He hums while you clean the pads of his fingers clean.
"Now, ride the bull for me." He demands.
/
The walk back to the lively scenery returned you to your senses as you prepared to confront your little group of friends. The conversation jumped about like crickets hopping around a long grassy field. It felt like there was no point in being driven before you challenged them against their better judgment and bet. Xina's lips pursed straight, and she nodded to her other girlfriends. The group looked at each other momentarily and caved in, just to see themselves embarrass themselves for the second time that night.
But it wasn't going to happen again...
Straddling down on the pseudo-bull, you looked out to the semi-lively bar, seeing your friends watching from afar and your 'mentor' looking at you while taking a shot. With a raise of his brow and tipping his cowboy hat, a surge of content rested in your belly.