tw for smut and kindaaaa cheating?? reader has a kinda bf but not rly!
every year, the rodeo brought dozens of boys into town, all southern drawls and catcalls across the bar you worked at, drinkin’ cheap beer faster than they could ask for it. there was a big event this year, drawing in all kinds of attention from sports media and more competitors than usual. the headliner, the main event, was art donaldson. he was unrivaled in the circuit, strong and quick enough to stay on until the very end, the best wranglin’ skills on his side of the mississippi. and god, he was gorgeous. you could tell he knew it, too, the way he walked around with a toothpick between his teeth and a lazy grin on his lips. that kinda man didn’t have to catcall, no. they came to him.
you tried your best to ignore him the way you ignored all the others, but there was just something about him, the sparkle in his blue eyes or the depth of his accent, his voice deep and words curled. whatever it was, you knew you were screwed as soon he leaned against your bar, the sleeves of his pearl buttoned shirt rolled up his elbows. “hey there, miss,” he smiled, the toothpick tight between his teeth, “how are ya this evenin’?” “i’m doin’ just fine,” you smiled in return, “what’ll it be?” “whatever you recommended, darlin,” it was cocky of him, but you couldn’t ignore the way your cheeks flushed at the pet name, “and what if i have bad taste?” you teased. “aw, cmon now. pretty thing like you couldn’t have bad taste if you tried,”
you busied yourself behind the bar, poured him a tall glass of shiner and slid it over to him with a smile, “there ya go,” “see? knew i could trust you,” he grinned around the rim of the glass, “what’s your name, sugar?” you told him, something you never did, “and yours?” “art. art donaldson,” he nodded, “in town for the rodeo,” “oh, i’m sure,” you nodded in return, “i’ve seen you on the flyers. famous, ain’t ya?” “aw, i don’t know about that,” he laughed, hearty and warm, “just won a few, that’s all. enough about me, though. what’s a pretty girl like you doin’ workin at this place?” “my brother owns this place, thank you very much,” you replied, sipping your water, trying to look away from his lips around the glass, “work here on weekends when we have these events, know how yall like to drink ‘nd all,”
“that’s sweet of you,” he smiled, tongue swiping along his bottom lip, collecting the droplets of beer, “how old are you, hm? look awful young to be hangin’ around all these old men,” “i’m 21,” you rolled your eyes, still grinning, “and you?” “26,” he told you, eyes trialing down to the v of your shirt just slightly, “that ain’t too bad,” “too bad for what, exactly?” you asked, resting a hand on your hip. “not too much older than you, that’s all,” he shrugged, a coy smile on his lips, “unless you like older men, then maybe i got a disadvantage,” “i’ll have you know i’ve got a boyfriend,” you couldn’t help but revel in the irritation that flashed across his face, “so it doesn’t matter much anyway,”
“yeah? where’s your boyfriend then, pretty? he let you stay out this late workin’ while he’s at home?” he asked, resting his chin on his hand, smug smile on his lips. “he’s in the kitchen,” you gestured to the window leading to the kitchen that only really produced questionable greasy food, “not that it’s any of your business, cowboy,” “oh, come on,” he groaned, “don’t tell me you went and fell for some kinda line cook, darlin. you need a real man, somebody that’s gonna take care of you,” “yeah? somebody like you?” you cocked an eyebrow, grinning. he didn’t miss a beat, “yeah, somebody just like me. how serious is it, you and that guy?” “mm, not very,” you shrugged, glancing away. “yeah, i’m sure,” he laughed, quiet and intimate, like it was just for you, “what is it, honey? you just mess around with him when there’s no one else around, huh? yall meet here and you settled?” he was dead on- he wasn’t your boyfriend, not really. you didn’t even fuck him, just made out with him after work when you had a few too many shift drinks, let him feel you up until you had enough, then you let him drive you home with false promises of ‘maybe next time’. but art didn’t need to know that.
“well if you ever want a real man,” he slid a napkin you hadn’t even realized he’d written on across the bar, “room 201, i’ll be here all week. i’m competing tomorrow, if you wanna come watch,” “you’re cocky, aren’t ya?” you rolled your eyes but took the napkin anyway, folding it up and tucking it into the pocket of your denim skirt, “maybe i’ll see you tomorrow, then,” “i hope so, darlin. you can be my good luck charm. if i win, you gotta let me take you out,” he winked, placed a $50 next to the empty glass, and left you feeling slightly dumbfounded as you watched him walk away. yeah, you were screwed.
you went down to the rodeo grounds the next day, all dressed up in your favorite gingham dress and boots, sipping a lemonade as you watched the boys compete. when art’s name was announced, the stands wend wild, stomping and clapping and cheering his name. you’d seen this place loud, of course, half the people were usually day drinking just enough to let go of their inhibitions and scream like no tomorrow. but this was a whole new level, like he was some kind of rodeo god, like he was gracing everyone with his mere presence. you could’ve scoffed- tried to, really, but then you saw him.
he was entirely in his element, perched atop a horse like he belonged there, his thighs strong and taut in his jeans as he led his horse into the ring. his hands gripped the reins, catching your attention even from the stands, lighting a fire inside of you. he rode with precision and grace, even as the horse bucked, even when anyone else would have fallen. it looked like a second nature to him, easy as breathing, the sort of relaxation that can’t come from practice. he somehow managed to keep his hat on the entire time, as well as a cocky, barely there little smile. it had you shifting in your seat, thighs squeezed together with each movement of his hands or toned arms. when it was all said and done, they announced the winners, and he was first in all categories. he accepted the awards with practiced graciousness, but you could see right through it. he knew he deserved them, knew he’d win. the ‘oh, you shouldn’t have’ act was all a facade, but it just made you fall even deeper.
that night, when everyone was out drinking and celebrating and making complete fools of themselves, you couldn’t keep your mind off of him. your fingers found the napkin you’d kept in your purse, art’s handwriting etched onto it, and before you knew it you were knocking on the door of room 201, your mind racing. your heart stalled when the door creaked open- art stood before you with just a towel wrapped low on his waist, beads of water dripping from his hair. “well ain’t this a nice surprise,” he grinned, eyes raking over your frame, “sure wasn’t expectin’ you tonight, darlin,” you tried to force your eyes away from him- from the planes of his chest, still shining from his shower, from the toned muscles of his biceps and the veins laying just under the skin. “you told me to come by,” the words came out slightly shaky, “but if now’s a bad time, i can-“
“now’s not a bad time,” his hand circled around your wrist, gently, but just firm enough to pull you inside. you huffed, cheeks hot, “what’re you doing?” “no sense in lettin’ a pretty girl wait around outside, is there?” he grinned, “come on, let me make you a drink,” before you could protest, he’d led you to the creaky hotel bed, turning away to retrieve something from the small kitchenette. he returned with two beers, sweaty with condensation, passing one to you, “so did you watch earlier?” you nodded, taking a small sip, anything to soothe your growing nerves, “yeah, i did. you were pretty good,”
“pretty good?” he arched a brow, “that’s all? you wound me, honey,” he placed a hand on his chest, feigning injury. “you don’t need me to tell you how good you are,” you rolled your eyes but smiled anyway, “everybody else already did that,” “well maybe i wanna hear it from you,” “cocky, aren’t ya?” your eyes fell to the towel still tight around his hips, “why’d you ask me to come here, art?” “come on, sugar. you’re smarter than that,” his hand rested on your thigh, warm and broad against your skin, “you know exactly why i wanted you here,” your breath hitched, goosebumps fanning out along your skin, “you just assumed i’d sleep with you, then?”
“saw how you were lookin’ at me,” his hand crept higher, slow but insistent, “tell me i’m wrong and we’ll just go back to talkin’, but i know what it looks like when a girl wants me, darlin’,” you couldn’t even deny him, you were helpless to it all. “you’re so full of yourself,” you mumbled, but you let him slide his hand under your skirt, let him kiss you like it meant something more than just a hookup. his mouth was hot and greedy, his self assurance apparent in the way he slid his tongue into your mouth, the way his free hand came to tilt your head back. you gasped when he slid his fingers underneath the cotton of your panties, pressing just lightly over your clit. “knew it,” he mumbled against you, “soaked for me, sugar,” he pulled you up into his lap, twisted you so your back was against his chest, your legs spread open as his fingers worked at your core, his kisses falling to your shoulder.
“look at you, darlin’, just fallin’ apart on my fingers. you still think i’m full of myself, hm?” he murmured into your skin, slowly sipping a finger inside of you, “god, you’re so wet,” “art,” it came out in a broken whine, your back arching against him, the lewd sounds of his fingers against you filling the hotel room. “i know it,” he cooed, “you gonna come for me, pretty thing?” your eyes rolled back as you bucked your hips against his hand, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you got closer, “god, yes,” he worked you through it, drew it from you like it was his one true calling, murmuring praises into your neck as you came down.
you caught your breath, shifting in his arms to face him, your hands coming to untie the towel around his waist. as you kneeled on the carpeted floor in front of the bed, his breath hitched, his hand resting on your jaw, “don’t have to do that, darlin’,” he sounded almost pained, his voice thick, “god, just let me fuck you, please,” he pulled you up into his arms again before you could protest, the towel discarded on the floor, his cock hard against your thighs as you settled in his lap. “you gonna ride me, baby, hm? play cowgirl f’me?” before you could answer, he pulled you down onto his cock, the breath leaving your lungs as he stretched you out, your eyes rolling back at the feeling, “there you go, darlin’, see how long you can take it,”
he didn’t let you do much of the work, of course. he was a man of his word, seeing how long you could stay on, fucking up into you hard enough to have you trembling and gasping, a moaning mess above him. “god, you feel so fuckin’ good,” he panted, his hands surely leaving fingerprints on your ass as he held you tight, “you like that, sugar? hm?” “yes, art, god yes,” you nodded eagerly, jaw slack, “feels so fucking good,” “prettiest thing i ever saw,” his jaw was clenched with the effort of not filling you up right there and then, his hips bucking desperately, “ridin’ me so good,” his hands left your skin just long enough to grab his hat from the bedside table, resting it on your head, your brows furrowing when you felt it. “oh, god,” he exhaled, “look so fuckin’ pretty wearin’ my hat, angel. yknow what that means, don’t ya?” his thrusts had gotten even rougher, his legs shaking, “means you’re mine,”
“oh, art,” you let out a high pitched moan as he slapped your ass, your skin stinging with the impact, “god, so close,” “yeah, there ya go,” he encouraged, his breathing ragged, “atta girl,” you clenched around him as you came, your nails raking down his chest, grabbing at anything you could to stable yourself as he fucked you incoherent. “god, sweetest fuckin’ pussy,” he groaned, grabbing your hips and fucking you on his cock, your breath coming out in short squeaks, “gonna fill you up, y’want that? hm?” you nodded, too far gone to speak, squeezing him tighter at the thought. “yeah, knew you would,” you could practically hear the smirk on his lips, but it was quickly replaced by a broken, desperate moan. his thrusts grew sloppy and erratic, and soon he was coming undone, filling you up, hot and wet and making you even more needy. “oh, fuck,” he panted, catching his breath as he slowly settled you in his lap, his hands soothing over the skin he’d slapped, “so good, darlin’, good lord,”
he held you that way for a few minutes, still inside you, until he slowly slid you off of him, hissing softly at the loss of contact as he pulled you onto his chest, his arms circling around your back. “should clean up,” you mumbled into his chest, sticky with sweat. “yeah, in a minute,” he murmured into your hair, “just wanna hold you like this,” when you finally cleaned up, he was soft and attentive, the two of you grinning and blushing under the hotel shower head like you hadn’t just done something much more intimate. you spent the night, even though you told yourself you wouldn’t, let him tell you all his old rodeo stories until you fell asleep against his chest. you could get used to it, you told yourself. maybe too easily.
summary ﹏ It took only a few seconds for you to fall down that horse. Legs, hips, back and the aching feeling of bruises already forming on your body. And Dodge, your boyfriend, is worried. But a massage and some fingering later, you both end up relaxed.
You should’ve seen the fall coming; the way your horse twitched under you, the crack of something in the trees, the second of stillness before the storm but you didn’t. One sharp jolt and you were airborne—then earthbound. Shoulder first, hip second. The wind punched out of your lungs like a slap to the chest.
Now you’re lying on your stomach in Dodge’s bed, your body aching in a dozen places, skin flushed warm from the hot bath he insisted on drawing for you earlier. You’re wearing only an oversized t-shirt (his) and a pair of soft cotton panties. The arnica oil sits on the nightstand beside you, and he’s rubbing it into your sore muscles with quiet, focused intensity.
“You scared the shit out of me,” he mutters, kneeling beside the bed as his hands press gentle circles into your lower back. “I thought... I don’t know what I thought. You weren’t moving.”
“I’m okay now,” you murmur, voice muffled by the pillow. “Thanks to you.”
His thumbs press along your spine, just enough to stretch out the ache without pushing too far. Dodge’s hands are warm, rough in all the right ways. You can feel the calluses catch on your skin now and then, but they don’t hurt. They remind you of who he is—of how many times those same hands have steadied you, cupped your face, tugged you close like he didn’t trust the world to keep you safe.
“Can’t believe you’re still lettin’ me touch you,” he says softly, like the guilt’s still pressing into his chest. “I should’ve kept a better eye on you.” You exhale a sleepy sound. “You weren’t the one who spooked the horse.”
“Still.”
His touch lingers at the small of your back. The room is dim; sunlight gone, leaving only the amber glow of the bedside lamp. You hear him open the oil bottle again, feel the warmth of it as he rubs it between his hands.
He starts again, slow and purposeful. First at your shoulders, then your back, kneading the soreness from your muscles in long, deliberate strokes. But this time, he doesn’t stop there. His hands slide lower, tracing the curves of your hips, then down, until his palms are resting over the swell of your ass. He does it in a way that you know is not sexual.
You shift slightly, breath hitching, still. Because it’s Dodge, and every little attention coming from him makes your body boil. Hot like summer, heat pooling inside your stomach without permission from your brain.
“Still okay?” he murmurs, low and close to your ear. “Yes,” you whisper, and your body betrays you by arching into his touch just a little.
His thumbs move in careful circles across the soft flesh there, rubbing out the tension like he has every right to touch you this way and he does. It’s tender and reassuring but there’s something else behind it too, simmering slow. The edge of want.
“You’ve got the prettiest ass I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs like it’s a confession. “Soft, even when you’re bruised.” You let out a shaky laugh, still face-down in the pillow. “You’re not helping me rest, you know.”
“You want me to stop?” You shake your head, of course you don’t.
Dodge hums like he already knew the answer. His hands glide over your thighs, up again, then closer until his thumbs brush along the crease where your thighs meet your core. The fabric of your panties is thin, barely separating his hands from the heat of you. “You’re warm here,” he says quietly, almost reverently. “Real warm.” You bury your face deeper into the pillows.
“You’re warming up,” he teases softly like he knows without needing to see your face, and he’s kissing the back of your thigh. “What, just from a little massage?”
“It’s not just the massage,” you mutter, and he laughs against your skin—low and fond.
He’s careful as he touches you, rubbing slow circles over your clothed pussy. One hand slips under your shirt again to rest warm on your lower back, grounding you and the other moves between your legs, teasing along your slit through the dampening cotton. “You’re wet already,” he murmurs, voice dipping even lower. “All this just from me touchin’ you like this?” You nod against the pillow, your breath shuddering.
“You’re so fuckin’ soft, baby. You always get like this when I take my time with you.”
A soft whimper escapes your throat, hips twitching as he touches you through your panties with maddening patience. He presses a little harder over your clit with his thumb, the pressure slow and steady, and you make a strangled sound into the sheets. “That’s it,” he praises. “Let me take care of you.”
He slides the fabric to the side then, baring you to the warm air of the room. His fingers glide between your folds, wet and hot and already pulsing for more. When he dips a finger just against your entrance, you whimper. “God, you’re so ready,” he groans. “So fuckin’ wet for me.”
His fingers stroke back up, teasing around your clit again before he leans down, breath hot over the curve of your ass. “You make the sweetest sounds, you know that? Every little cry just for me.”
You cry out again as he presses a finger inside; just one, slow and steady. It slides in easy, thanks to how wet you already are. You clench around him instinctively. “There we go,” he whispers. “That feel good?” You nod, moaning into the pillow. “Yes. Yes, Dodge!”
He adds another finger, stretching you carefully, curling just enough to make your thighs tremble. The hand on your lower back strokes comfortingly, holding you in place as he fucks you slow with his fingers. “You’re squeezin’ me so tight,” he groans. “So fuckin’ needy tonight.”
“I c-can’t—” your voice cracks as you try to hold still. Your hips grind back into his hand on instinct. “You can,” he coaxes, voice going impossibly soft. “You always can for me, baby. Give me that first one. Let it out.” It rises fast, so fast your breath can’t keep up. You come with a cry muffled in the pillow, your body shaking as you fall apart under his hand when his fingers hit your spongy spot multiple times. Tears slip down your cheeks and Dodge catches them with his thumb.
“Good girl,” he whispers, kissing the dip of your lower back. “That’s it. So fuckin’ good.”
He keeps going: slow, unrelenting and the overstimulation hits like a wave. You whine, writhing against the bed as his fingers work your soaked cunt. “You’ve got more,” he whispers, low and certain. “Don’t hide from me.”
“I—it’s too much! Please, more…”
“It’s perfect,” he counters, and his voice is full of something warm and molten. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty when you cry.” The second orgasm crashes over you, harder than the first. You sob into the mattress, trembling as he talks you through it, rubbing slow circles over your clit with his free fingers as your cunt pulses around his digits. “There she is,” he murmurs. “That’s my girl.”
You lay there panting, body shaking. He slows, finally withdrawing his fingers, and you hear the wet sound of it, slick coating his hand. He presses a kiss to the small of your back, then one to your thigh, then higher. “You alright?” he asks quietly, hand smoothing over your back.
You nod, still breathless. “I’m so good.” He kisses your shoulder. “That was the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” You let out a laugh, exhausted and floaty. “You’re gonna kill me with compliments.” He chuckles, laying down beside you and resting a hand on your lower back. “Only if it gets you to cry like that again.”
You’re still trembling beneath him, cheek pressed into the pillow, your body limp and warm with the afterglow of two back-to-back orgasms. Your skin feels tight and glowing, like you’ve been cracked open and poured full of honey. Dodge’s hand is now resting between your shoulder blades, gentle and grounding.
“You alright, baby?” he murmurs again, his voice a little hoarse with want. You hum a breathless yes, too gone to say much else but your hips twitch when his palm trails back down, between your thighs again, where you’re slick and aching. He groans softly at the sight. “Goddamn,” he says low, reverent. “You’re even more soaked.”
You bury your face deeper in the pillow, embarrassedbut it only makes him smile. He leans over you, kissing the back of your neck, your shoulder, the warm patch of skin just behind your ear. “Don’t go shy on me now,” he teases softly. “Not when your pretty pussy’s beggin’ for more.”
You shiver, and your legs part instinctively as his fingers return. He strokes along your folds again—; slow, lazy, just enjoying the feel of you. You let out a soft sound, half-whimper, half-plea. “You want more?” he asks gently. “You gotta say it.”
“Please…” Your voice is rough, sweet with exhaustion. “More.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
He pushes two fingers back inside you easily, curling them deep. You gasp, your hips rolling down into the bed, your thighs twitching. “Still so fuckin’ tight,” he murmurs. “And you just came twice.” You moan, the pressure of him filling you again like a balm and a brand. He adds a third finger slowly, easing you open with care, watching your body stretch around him.
You gasp, the stretch bordering on too much but just barely. Your muscles clench, trying to adjust, and Dodge strokes your back soothingly, kissing your spine. “Shh, I’ve got you, just breathe through it, baby. You’re takin’ me so well.”
He works them slowly, twisting and curling until your thighs begin to tremble again. You feel full, stuffed, stretched in the most tender way—your hips pinned to the mattress, your whole body reduced to sensation. “Feels good,” you whisper, voice cracking. “M'so full, Dodge!”
“I know,” he croons. “You’re doin’ perfect. Always so sweet for me.” You sob into the pillow, overwhelmed by the heat pooling in your belly again. You didn’t think you had anything left, but the pressure’s building fast, sharp and hot and electric.
“Don’t fight it,” he whispers, pressing kisses between your shoulder blades. “Give me another. Come for me again, let me see you fall apart.”
You try to hold it, just for a second longer but it slams into you without warning. You cry out, hands clutching the sheets as your whole body tenses, shudders, and breaks. Your thighs are soaked now, his fingers working you through it until you’re gasping for air.
Tears wet your face, hot and steady. Dodge strokes your hip, coos into your ear like he’s trying to settle a wild thing.
“There she is,” he whispers. “There’s my girl.” You don’t know how long you lie there, panting and shaking, skin flushed and nerves blazing. Dodge is still behind you, still touching you but gentler now, tracing circles into your skin with the pads of his fingers. His lips ghost along your spine, your shoulder blades, your ass. “You still with me?” he asks finally.
You nod, still face-down in the pillow. “I’m here.”
“Did so good,” he says, voice thick with awe. “Let me fuckin’ ruin you without even movin’ you.” You laugh weakly. “I don’t think I can walk anyway.”
He laughs too, kissing your hip. “Good. You ain’t goin’ anywhere.” You can feel his hard cock pressing against your thigh through his jeans, but he hasn’t taken his own pleasure, not yet. He’s too focused on you. Always has been. “Want me to stop?” he asks, even now. Always checking and always careful. You shake your head, arching weakly into his touch. “Don’t stop. Just… slower.” He hums, satisfied. “You wanna give me one more?”
You gasp, half-laughing, half-delirious. “I don’t even know if I can.”
“That’s alright, baby,” he whispers, settling back between your thighs, his hand already moving again—slow and purposeful, dragging your pleasure out like he has all the time in the world.
And Dodge? He’s gonna make sure you remember it with every inch of your trembling body.
The room is quiet again, save for the sound of your breathing; still a little unsteady but settling, and the soft rustle of the sheets beneath you. Dodge stays close, his lips brushing your lower back, his hands warm where they rest on the swell of your hips.
You hum, soft and dazed, face still turned into the pillow. You’re boneless, stretched out and melted, your skin tingling everywhere he touched. You can feel your thighs still wet and sticky, your panties damp and clinging to the side, your body flushed with the aftershocks of everything he gave you.
But Dodge doesn’t rush. "Alright, sweetheart," he murmurs into the small of your back. "Gonna get you cleaned up. Don't move, I’ve got it."
You feel the bed dip as he gets up, hear him padding across the room. The sound of a faucet running, a towel being wrung out. His care is quiet, reverent, like he’s handling something precious.
When he comes back, he slides down beside you, and you flinch at the first contact; the towel is warm, wet, and soft as he eases your legs apart just enough to wipe gently between them. He murmurs something under his breath when he sees the mess, but it’s not dirty, not crude. It’s wonder. It’s pride. “Look what you gave me,” he whispers, thumb brushing the inside of your thigh. “You were so good for me. So damn perfect.” You blink, eyes glassy from overstimulation and tears and your lips twitch into a lazy smile.
He’s so careful as he cleans you, wiping you down with slow, tender strokes. He presses kisses to the backs of your knees, your thighs, the curve of your spine. And then, with the towel tossed aside, his fingers return but not to tease, not to start anything new. He starts massaging you again.
Same as before, like it’s still about your fall, still about the tight muscles and tension from the saddle and the ground. He starts at your ankles, kneading slow and steady. You sigh, letting yourself go limp all over again. “You weren’t lyin’ earlier,” he says softly, voice full of affection. “Took a hell of a hit.”
“Mm,” you hum. “Was worth it.” He chuckles under his breath. “Don’t say that. I’d rather you keep your pretty bones in one piece.”
His hands glide up your calves, thumbs pressing into the flesh, gentle but firm. You twitch a little when he hits a sore spot, but he kisses your ankle in apology, smoothing the tension with a few more careful passes. "You like me takin’ care of you like this?" he asks quietly.
“Mmhmm.”
“You deserve it,” he says simply, like it’s fact. “Deserve to be touched real nice, spoken so sweet, made to feel good.” Your chest tightens at that; there’s so much love in his voice it makes you ache.
He continues the massage, now at your thighs, avoiding your sore hips but stroking the surrounding muscles with steady care. The sensation is grounding. His touch, worshipful. There’s no rush now, no teasing, no game.
He kneads the small of your back, gentle over the spot that took the brunt of the fall. When you flinch a little, he pauses, kisses the ache, and moves around it. “Gonna need to ice that tomorrow,” he murmurs. “But for now, I’ll be your heat pack.” You let out a sleepy giggle into the pillow.
He eventually stops massaging and shifts up the bed beside you, slipping under the covers, arms sliding around your waist. You’re still on your stomach, too dazed to flip, but he just wraps himself around you from behind, chest to your back, one hand slipping beneath the hem of your oversized shirt to stroke your waist.
“You know I love you, right?” he murmurs. You nod instantly. “Yeah. I know. I love you too.”
“Good,” he says, brushing a kiss to your cheek. “’Cause I do. More than I know what to do with, sometimes.” You press your hand to his forearm where it’s draped over your side, squeezing lightly. His voice dips lower, soft and sure. “Next time you fall off a horse, don’t wait for me to come find you, alright? You come to me right away.”
You smile against the pillow. “You’d always take care of me like this?” He laughs, husky and low. “Girl, I’ll take care of you like this every night if you want.”
“You’d wear your fingers out.”
“You’re worth it,” he says without missing a beat. “Every damn second.”
You turn your head just enough to see his face; his messy hair, his sleep-heavy eyes, the soft curve of his smile. He kisses your forehead, your temple, your cheek, and finally the corner of your mouth. “Sleep now,” he whispers. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
Summary: You're annoyed about getting paired with Dodge for a group project. He's quiet, cold, and you find nothing about him appealing (at least, that's what you're telling yourself.) Things start to take a turn when you end up having to work on the project in his bedroom, and suddenly, Dodge becomes the teacher.
author's note: you all asked and you shall receive! god i love dodge mason (and you should too.)
“And you’ll be with Dodge Mason” the professor said when she got to your name on the class list. You thought you would be able to avoid group projects in community college, but apparently not. Dodge didn’t even shoot you a glance when the professor announced you as partners, so things were surely off to a great start.
He always sat in the very back, head low, kept to himself. He never raised his hand to answer a question or chime in on a discussion, and he always hurried out as soon as the professor dismissed class. You had seen him out at parties on occasion, chatting to one or two other guys in the corner. He looked good at parties, blue jeans and a tight t-shirt was a good uniform for him, especially when he added a cowboy hat. But his mysteriousness was unappealing, you found the whole “brooding cowboy” thing to be more cold and standoffish than sexy.
“Dodge! Dodge!” you chased him out of the classroom. You caught up with him and his expression hardly changed when he saw you. “What time should we meet to work on this?”
“8pm tonight sound fine?” he scrawled his address out on a piece of notebook paper and handed it to you.
“Sure! See ya then!” your cheeriness did not impact his mood, and you scoffed as you headed back to your car.
You did not find Dodge Mason appealing at all, but you found yourself standing in front of your mirror at 7:30 p.m. making sure that your outfit looked good. Your skirt was short, your shirt was tight. Why were you doing this? You kept trying to convince yourself you saw nothing in him, but your mind kept flashing back to the way his arms looked in those t-shirts that fit him so right. You threw on a hoodie so you at least seemed a little more casual.
He answered the door as soon as you knocked, and you walked in to quite a few folks in the dining room.
“Sorry, my sister has friends over. We’ll have to work in my room,” Dodge said as he led you down the hallway.
Why was your heart beating faster? You were just going in there to work, and it's only because you can’t go anywhere else.
His room was just as you expected it to be. Gray walls, navy bed sheets, decorated with rodeo trophies and a couple vintage cigarette ads.
“Neat room,” you said, even though it was boring as hell.
“Thanks.” he sat on one edge of the bed and you sat on the other, it felt like there was miles of distance between you- both physically and mentally at this point. Your legs were crossed tight, as you realized maybe wearing a skirt was not the best outfit choice for doing homework on a bed. The two of you got to work, talking about nothing except the work at hand. You were getting so bored, and your mind started to wander. His concentrated face was unfortunately very attractive, as he bit his lip looking down at the paper. His hands were huge, made evident by how small the pencil looked in them. His t-shirt was once again, tight. Hugging every muscle in his arm. You couldn’t stand it anymore. You took off your hoodie, revealing the crop-top you had on.
“Sorry, all this writing and concentrating is making me hot,” you laughed sheepishly.
“No problem.” Dodge replied plainly, although you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes suddenly scanned your body. He wasn’t even trying to hide it, as they lingered on the curve of your hips and the peaks of your tits, visible over the neckline of your shirt. Your face was getting warmer than the sun.
“I need a break, why don’t you tell me about these trophies?” you shot up and stood by his dresser, desperate to form some sort of connection with this man.
“Alright,” he stayed on the bed. He began explaining each one in pretty great detail. If you couldn’t physically get close to him, at least this was helping you get to know him better. There was a big one from when he was kid that had a particularly funny story to go along with it, and you held the shiny gold cup, facing away from the bed. You didn’t notice the way he slowly got up, coming up behind you and sneaking his hands around your waist. Your breath hitched, the smell of his musky cologne apparent as his neck was mere inches from your face. He turned you around to face him, fingertips never leaving the exposed skin between your shirt and skirt.
You stared up at him, eyes dark and low. It wasn’t his usual uninterested stare. No, this was lust, a throbbing, aching lust. God, he was so tall. You nearly had to tilt your head all the way back to even make eye contact. He cupped your face with both hands and pulled you in, kissing you in a way that you had never been kissed before. It was as if his lips were a key and yours were the lock, they fit perfectly together. His tongue found its way down your throat as his hands started to gently roam, tracing every curve and pausing as he found your ass under the skirt. He cupped your ass and squeezed, hard, earning a moan from you into his mouth. You could feel him smile against your lips as he squeezed again, making you press your body into his. Fuck, his abs were so tight and so defined you could feel them through the fabric. You looked up at him again with pleading eyes and he smirked before leaning right next to your ear.
“You wanna learn how to ride?” he whispered. You knew he was cracking a joke but god it felt so serious in that moment.
“Yes daddy.” you groaned back. Woah. He had never asked you to call him that, and you were not the type to just bust that word out usually.
“Fucking christ I need you so bad,” he hoisted you up and you instinctively wrapped your legs around him as he carried you to the bed. So “daddy” was well received. He flung all the notebooks and paper to the ground with one swipe of his arm. He was holding you up with one arm, giving you a chance to realize how strong he truly was. He tossed you down on the bed, rough but making sure he didn’t hurt you. His shirt came off almost immediately, and you happily helped him undo his belt buckle so you could see more of him. His cock was already throbbing through his boxers, just coaxing you to sit on it. He had already pulled your shirt and skirt off, and expertly unhooked your bra, tossing it to the side and taking a moment as you laid there in nothing but a lacy thong.
“Goddamn,” he sighed, grazing his thumbs over your nipples, teasing you and only making you want his cock more. He started applying more pressure, doing gentle circles with his thumbs and pressing his erection between your legs. Your moans were soft as you bucked your hips into him with progressively more force.
“Easy,” he firmly placed his hands on your hips, steadying them and pressing them back down into the mattress. “That’s no way for a good girl like you to behave.”
Suddenly it was Niagara Falls between your thighs.
He kept playing with your nipples, pinching and twisting and flicking, seeing how good it clearly made you feel. He wrapped his hands around your back and flipped you on top of him, quickly pulling down his boxers and exposing his cock, already slick with pre-cum. He reached into his bedside drawer and pulled out a condom, looking at you as you straddled him.
“You ready baby?” he nearly cooed. You nodded and started to lift yourself up over him, but he decided to take control. His rough hands were planted firmly on the sides of your supple hips, guiding you onto his length. You were soaking wet, but he was so fucking big you could still only take half at once without flinching. He held you steady, waiting for you to get used to the feeling of him inside you. You both had locked eyes the moment he grabbed your hips, and neither had dared to look away, drinking in, being intoxicated by every emotion that crossed the other’s face. He slowly moved you down until you were fully sitting on his cock, gasping as the last inch pushed into your walls. Your hands were on his chest as you leaned forward, eyes now shut as you felt how close the two of you had become. Two hours ago he would barely say a word to you, now he was literally inside of you. He started rocking you back and forth, controlling your hips and making you feel so fucking good. Your clit rubbed against his abs as you rode, sparks zapping across your body every time he moved you in just the right way.
You were on top, but Dodge was fully in control. You were completely submitting to his touch, letting his hands do all the work. His body was doing all the talking he hadn’t done earlier, as he purposely thrust his abs up, knowing that was getting you closer and closer to the finish. You were starting to lose it, made completely stupid by how good his cock felt inside you.
“Fuck Dodge-daddy, fuck,” you were so so close, you could feel the orgasm starting to bubble up in your stomach.
Right as you were about to climax, Dodge sat up and leaned in.
“Cum for me good girl,” the thickness of his voice was enough to send you over the edge as you cried out, breaking free of his hands and grinding on him.
“Oh fuck me,” his head rolled back and the feeling of your pussy clenching around his dick was enough to finish him off, pulsating against your walls.
You slid yourself off him and collapsed onto his pillows, resting your head in the crook of his arm.
He started playing with your hair and the two of you just laid in silence, basking in the bliss of the sex you just had.
That was certainly one ride you never wanted to get off.
thinking about "can you hold me until i fall asleep " with dodge like we know that he likes to be the person that people depend on and being all independent and shit he doesn't like asking for help but sometimes baby just needs to be the one to be looked after even though he'd never fully admit it UGHH i need soft dodge
reaalllll, soft dodge is so BSDJFJF
meet me in the pale moonlight
moonlight seeped into dodge’s grey bedroom. you laid besides him, trying to fall asleep. drinking that much coffee was paying off.
you could feel dodge twitching nervously, a constant rustling of bedsheets by your side. you’d noticed this about him. every once in a while, he would have the absolute hardest time sleeping. he would turn and turn, tangled in his sheets, trying to fall into morpheus’s arms. he’d change positions, rearrange his pillows, he even counted sheep once. and when he finally managed to fall into a light sleep, it wouldn’t take long before he woke up gaping and breathing heavily, covered in cold sweat.
dodge turned again. you rotated to face his back. ghosting your fingertips over his shoulders, you traced patterns to call his attention. he turned his body to look at you.
“hey,” you whispered, inching closer.
dodge reached to cup your face, playing with loose strands of your hair.
“am i keeping you up?” he asked. “i’m sorry-“
“don’t be,” you smiled at him. “it’s the six coffees i had.”
he cracked a grin to match yours.
“i just-“ dodge sighed. “i can’t-”
he fell silent again. you leaned in to peck his nose, the pads of your fingers tracing the same patterns now on his forearm.
“it’s okay,” you soothed him. “i’m here for you, hm?”
he nodded lightly.
“if you want to talk, or go for a walk, or anything, really, baby, i’m here.”
you cupped his face and pressed another feathery kiss to his forehead. dodge’s eyes glimmered with the faint light from the moon. he whispered a quiet ‘thank you’, as you played with his chocolate locks.
“y/n?” he mumbled.
“yeah?”
“can you-” dodge shut his eyes. “can you hold me until i fall asleep.”
you smiled heartily. “c’mere.”
you opened your arms and he nuzzled into you, head nestled in your neck and arms around your torso. you embraced him, hands around his neck, running your fingers up and down to ease him, or carding a finger through his soft locks. his breathing soon steadied, synced with the calm up and down heaves of your chest.
he didn’t wake up that night. a nice, long, well deserved sleep. dodge woke up at noon, still in your arms, feeling as good as new.
he peered up at you. you were still asleep, but with the cutest smile on your lips. not able to resist, dodge planted a kiss to the corners of your lips, nestling back into you and closing his eyes again.
Summary: Dodge shows you what happens when you wear a cowboy’s hat
Warnings: smut with plot, little bit of a marking kink, no use of y/n, unprotected sex but reader could be assumed to be on bcp.
AN: I finally finished this! It has taken me literal minutes to finish this. This is my first time writing smut so we’ll see how it goes. I’m very open to feedback. I recently got back into Panic so hopefully, everyone will like it; let's just ignore any plot or character inconsistencies. I also have no idea how rodeos or anything like that works.
Even though you had grown up in Texas, you had never heard about what happens if you wear a cowboy's hat. You started dating Dodge shortly after he moved to Carp, and it had been going swimmingly ever since.
Today you were meeting Dodge over at the farm at the edge of town where the rodeo is being held later this afternoon. You had never seen Dodge compete, and you were worried because, living in Texas, you always heard about things like this going awry.
Once you got the field (is it considered a field? arena, maybe?) and parted ways with your sweet cowboy, giving him a god luck kiss, you chose a spot along the fence so that you could get the best view of your man.
Finally, after a little while of waiting, everyone came out for the competition.
~Time Skip because I don't know sports~
After the competition was finished, you patiently waited for everyone to congratulate Dodge before you approached him to give him your own congratulations on his achievement.
"Hey there, cowboy. You did pretty well out there." You say as you meander over to Dodge and wrap your arms around his neck.
"Why, thank you. It always helps to have my good luck charm cheering me on." He bends down to pick you up and spin you around. Once he sets you down, you pull him down to kiss you.
"Should we get going?" You ask.
"Yeah, let me go grab my stuff." He responds. Before he can walk away, you grab the hat from his head and put it on your own. Dodge surprises you and doesn't say anything; he gives you a cheeky smile and walks away. As you lean against the fence, waiting on your phone, you see Ray sauntering over to you out of the corner of your eye.
"What do you want, Ray." You say, groaning, ready for the conversation to be over already.
"I see you're wearin' Dodgey boy's hat." He says with his signature smirk.
"Yeah, and?"
"Don't ya know what happens when you wear a cowboy's hat?"
"No," you say, put off, "would you care to enlighten me?"
"Oh boy, I think that I'll let Dodge clear that up for you since he's coming over this way right now," Ray says before walking away to go torment someone else.
"What did the idiot want?" Dodge asks as he meets you and watches Ray walk away.
"Who knows. Something about what happens when you wear a cowboy's hat." You shrug before grabbing Dodge's hand and walking to the car. While walking, you notice the blush starting to creep up Dodge's neck. "Ok, why are you blushing?" You ask, poking his cheek.
"What? No, I'm not." He deflects.
"Oh yes, you are. I can see it right here. Your ears are turning red." you giggle. "Seriously, what is it."
"Oh, you know, it's just the hat thing."
"Ok, what is the "hat thing," though? Ray wouldn't explain it to me, and I have no idea what it is."
"Really? How have you never heard about it? You have lived in Texas your whole life, right?" He says, turning to you in disbelief.
"Yes! Now would you just tell me already!" You turn to him.
"Sure, let's get in the car first, though, alright?" He says, trying to get you into the car.
You go to the passenger side of the car and get in while Dodge does the same on the driver's side.
"Ok, now spill." You say, facing Dodge.
"I still can't believe you've never heard of this." He laughs. "So, supposedly, if you wear a cowboy's hat, you have to ride the cowboy. You know, the whole “save a horse, ride a cowboy” thing?" He blushes again, running his hand over his face and behind his neck.
"God, that makes so much more sense now." You blush, realizing what this means.
"Exactly. Now that you know, do you want to uphold it?"
"Yeah, yeah, I do." You say, taking his hand in yours.
"Well, my sister and mom aren't home today, so do you want to go to my house?"
"Absolutely," you reply, smile beaming off of your face.
Dodge lets go of your hand and begins to drive back to his house as fast as possible, while both of you hope you won't come across any cops and get pulled over. Once you get back to his house Dodge all but drags you out of the car and into the house. As soon as the door closes, you are pressed against it with Dodge at your lips. With passion growing, he continues to kiss you and starts to move the two of you towards his bedroom.
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.” He whispers into your neck as soon as you are in his room and pressed against the door. “Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?” He asks again, just to be sure. (Consent is so sexy)
“Yes, of course,” you breathe, “I want this so bad. I want you.”
Once those words are issued from your lips, it is as if all control Dodge had before is gone. He immediately begins to attack your neck with kisses and love bites.
“Dodge,” you moan, “what’re you doing?”
“If we’re doing this, I wanna do it right and make sure everyone knows that you’re mine.” He replies, making his way down your neck towards your cleavage.
He slowly works his hands up underneath your shirt, feeling the full expanse of your skin and asking permission to take it off. You nod and let out a moan as he leaves a particularly large hickey beneath your collarbone, right where everyone would be able to see. Dodge slowly began to undress you. After breaking your kiss to take your shirt off, Dodge immediately dives back into your lips this time picking you up to set you on his bed. He slowly starts to kiss his way down your body, only stopping to take your bra off and leave more than a few hickeys on your boobs just for him to see. He slowly starts kissing lower this time; kissing all the way down to your belly button but skipping over your shorts to leave love bites on the inside of your thighs. After felling successful in leaving enough marks on you he looks up with is brown doe eyes again.
"I just want to make sure this is still ok with you," he says giving the inside of your thigh one more kiss.
"Yes, absolutely yes," you groan out.
After hearing your need Dodge jumps back up to give your stomach one last kiss before taking your shorts and panties off in one fell swoop. After ridding you of any unwanted barriers Dodge takes advantage of the newly exposed skin to leave a few more hickies, once again, only for his view. Before he can get even more carried away you stop him.
“You know, I find it a little unfair that you haven’t taken off any clothes yet.” You point out, pushing yourself up to your elbows, displeased at Dodge’s state of undress, or lack thereof.
“Would you like me to fix that for you, princess? Or would you like to do the honors?” He asks, standing with a shit-eating grin. You blush in response.
"I would absolutely like to do the honors," you reply, pushing yourself to kneel on the bed. Slowly you start to kiss him again while you unbutton his shirt. Once you get the shirt all the way unbuttoned you push it off of his broad shoulder and down his arms without breaking the kiss. Then you slowly start kissing your way down his body, making sure to leave a few of your own marks in return. Once you get down to his perfectly chiseled v-line you decide to leave Dodge a group of hickeys in the shape of your initial.
"What are you doing?" Dodge questions, peering down.
"Nothing," you giggle, "just leaving you a little surprise."
Dodge just nods as you slowly start unbuttoning his jeans and pull them down. Once his pants and boxers are kicked off by his feet Dodge pulls you back up into another heated hiss.
"Baby, as much as I would love for you to suck me off right now, I think I might burst if I don't get into your cunt right now and besides, you need to prove that you can wear my hat," he whispers into your ear. He pulls back from the kiss and guides you back on to the bed and sits against the headboard. You crawl up the bed to straddle Dodge, leaning in again to kiss him as you start to grind on top of his throbbing member.
"Ugh," he moans, "you're already so wet for me. Practically drenching my cock and I've barely even done anything."
"What can I say, I love to reward my brave cowboy after every rodeo," you whisper, leaving a hickey near his pulse point. You make your way back up to his lips again while taking his throbbing member in your hand and sliding it up with your throbbing cunt. Slowly sinking down onto him you take a moment to adjust to how long his cock is. Both of you sighing as you sheath his full member inside of you and you feel the pressure turn into pleasure. Once you feel ready you start to move, grinding back and forth on Dodge’s dick.
“Ugh,” Dodge grunts out, “sweetheart you feel so good, so warm and soft around me. I’m not sure how long I’m going to last.”
“Dodge, baby, I can feel you so deep inside of me.” you reply, taking his hand from your hip to put it on your stomach so he can feel the slight bump his cock is making. Dodge moans and throws his head back in reaction, giving you the perfect opportunity to keep littering his neck and chest with kisses as you grind onto his cock.
Eventually, your doting boyfriend can tell that your legs are getting tired despite that fact that you are close to coming. He grips your hips with a renewed fervor and helps you alternate grinding with bouncing on his cock. As Dodge starts to get closer you feel his hand tighten on your hips and he buries his head in your neck. You feel the cusp of your orgasm start to approach and you gasp out.
“Yes! Dodge! Right there!” You say, out of breath as your orgasm washes over you. You feel Dodge’s movements still as he pulls you closer and releases inside of you.
“I love you so much sweets,” he moans into your ear, “fuck, that was so good.”
“Well I guess you have Ray to thank for that.” You giggle, placing a few more nips along the expanse of his neck.
“Shut up,” he says as he flips the two of you over and pins your hands above your head. “I don’t know about you, but I think I need to return the favor.” He pushes his already hard cock back into your pussy, wet with arousal and the mixing fluids of your previous orgasms.
“So did I prove that I can wear your hat? Did I successfully save a horse?” You tease in between moans.
Of course you did, and I had no doubt you would be anything less than capable.” Dodge moans out, continuing to languidly thrust into you. “In fact, I think you should wear my hat to school tomorrow and show if these marks so everyone knows that you’re my girl.” He says, leaving a new string of love bites across the top of your cleavage.
“Ah! Dodge!” You giggle, pushing his head away. “Stop it, now you’re just tickling me. Besides, are you sure we can handle the ribbing from Ray; not to mention that then the judges in panic will know how down bad you are for me. Wouldn’t want them using it against you.” You point out as Dodge stills inside of you.
“Babygirl, I have wanted to scream my love for you from the rooftops ever since we started dating. I want every guy in the state of Texas, hell, the world to know that you are taken by me; that we’re together until the end of time.” Dodge says, placing a gentle had on your cheek and staring into your eyes.
“Oh Dodge,” you exclaim, “you mean everything to me, I don’t know what I’d be without you.” You throw your arms around him and pull him into a kiss, subtly moving your hips again to encourage Dodge to start thrusting again.
He takes the signal and quickly find the right tempo for the both of you. Snaking an arm between your bodies he starts rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts, giving you the perfect stimulation to bring you to the precipice quicker than before. You pull him closer to you, your nails leaving marks along his back as you tumble over the edge. Dodge makes sure to cum at the same time as you and lets his body weight rest in too of you once you both are spent.
“Why don’t I get you cleaned up and make some snack so we can have a night in tonight. My mom and Dana are out of town for one of her appointments so you could stay the night and I could take you to school tomorrow.” Dodge suggests, slowly pulling out of you and moseying over to the bathroom.
“That sounds perfect,” you reply, turning over to face him. “I love you, you know that?”
“Of course I do,” he replies, coming back with a warm washcloth, “I know because I love you with every fiber of my being. Now get comfy because I’ll be right back with snack and my laptop so we can watch our show.” Dodge disappears into the hallway and presumably into the kitchen to make a snack. You fluff the pillows behind yourself and nestle yourself down in the covers, content to wait for your adorning boyfriend to come back so you can cuddle into his side and relax for the evening.
A/N: Not proofread yet. Please let me know how my smut writing is and send me more ideas of what to write!
