#National Final Rodeo

[cattleheelsandadirtymind]

[ilovebooberfraggle]

When I tell y’all I LOST MY SHIT seeing Ky Hamilton ride today… this 20 something year old kid has a gnarly fall, concusses himself, breaks a rib, spends the night in the hospital, and IS JUST BACK ON THE BULL THE NEXT MORNING???!! I aspire to have that level of badassery

[andtherestishistory13]

Watching the National Finals Rodeo and George Strait was right:

How bout them cowgirls

[icelynodette]

NFR Vegas 2023

[sundere1181]

Happy national finals rodeo to anybody who celebrates

[briefinquiries]

Tyler Owens x Reader: Say Don't Go

Request: Anonymous asked: “​​I think your writing is one of the best on here for Tyler <3 i’d love to read your take on the reader sticking out a big tornado with Tyler, i guess similar to the rodeo scene in the movie with Kate but i’d like to read your own take on him just comforting the reader and making sure they get through it <3”

Word count: 3.7k 

Warnings: Blood & injury mention, tornado, hurt / comfort

A/N: thank you so so much for the kind words :((( absolutely loving these requests & all of the comments / replies to my recent tyler fics. please keep them coming!!

 “You could’ve stayed home if you didn’t want to come,” you said to Tyler frustratedly. 

“It’s not that I didn’t want to come,” he replied, trailing behind you as you ventured into another store. “I just didn’t realize that picking up a birthday gift was going to entail being at the mall ‘til sun down.”

“I told you I didn’t have anything picked out and that I’d probably have to look around–” you reminded him, stopping in your tracks so that you could turn to face him. 

Tyler put his hands up in surrender. “I know, I know. I’m sorry, I’ll shut up.”

As soon as he backed down, your gaze immediately softened. “Well I don’t want you to be miserable,” you said as you crossed your arms. 

The corner of Tyler’s lip tugged upward in a cheeky grin. “Now how could I ever be miserable when I’m spendin’ time with you?” 

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile that crept across your face. “Yeah, whatever,” you said with a smirk. “Why don’t you head to the food court? Once I finish up, I’ll come find you.”

He tilted his head to the side, like a puppy looking for permission. “You sure?” 

You nodded, adjusting the bag slung over your shoulder. “Yeah, of course. Just, don’t get ice cream without me,” you warned.

Tyler took a step forward so that you were now only inches apart. You felt his hand rest on the small of your back before he pulled you closer and leaned forward. The second that you felt his lips press against yours in a soft, gentle kiss, all of the annoyance and frustration you’d previously felt melted away in the blink of an eye. Even though you and Tyler had been together for nearly two years now, he still had that kind of effect on you. 

When he stepped away, a smile lingered on his lips. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he assured you. 

You kept your eyes trained on the back of his head as he made his way from the store, because the truth was– even when he pissed you off, you loved him more than you’d ever loved anything. 

Only when he was out of sight did you finally turn and resume your search. As much as you loved spending time with Tyler, you had to admit it was easier to shop around without him constantly moaning and groaning the entire time. 

You settled into the silence, taking your time as you made your way through the store. After inspecting all of the assorted knick knacks and smelling nearly every candle in the place, you finally settled on a necklace for your mom’s upcoming birthday. 

Once you’d paid, you tucked the jewelry box inside your bag and began making your way out of the store, planning to head straight for the food court to find Tyler. 

Except the second you stepped out of the store, you nearly jumped out of your skin at the loud sound of cracking thunder above. It was close– enough so the building trembled. You watched as other shoppers stopped in their tracks too. 

And then, to your absolute dismay, you heard the emergency alert systems on everyone’s phones start going off in unison. 

You pulled yours out of your pocket and read the message flashing across your screen. 

National Weather Service: TORNADO WARNING in this area until 8:30 PM CDT. Take shelter now in a basement or an interior room on the lowest floor of a sturdy building. If you are outdoors, in a mobile home, or in a vehicle, move to the closest substantial shelter and protect yourself from flying debris. Check media for more information. 

You swallowed thickly before glancing up from your phone. Gradually, others began doing the same. Then, as soon as everyone had read the warning and realized what was going on, panic ensued. 

People began running in all directions– pushing others aside and rushing towards exits. You tried your best to remain calm, but you couldn’t ignore the fear spreading through you. 

Instantly, your eyes began scanning the crowd as you instinctively began looking for Tyler.  

He’ll come for you, you thought. Tyler will come. 

But that didn’t mean you couldn’t meet him halfway. You tried to keep close to the wall to prevent being crushed in the crowd– unfortunately for you though, other people had the same idea. As hard as you tried to keep to the side, soon, you were sucked right into the mass of people. The only thing you could do was move with them and try desperately to stay on your feet as everyone pushed and shoved their way around you. 

Eventually, you dared to careen your neck up and scan for him. At first, all you saw was chaos– but people all seemed to be moving in the same direction now. You watched as parents picked up their children and spouses grabbed each other’s hands. Employees ran out of stores and customers dropped bags. 

It took a few minutes, but eventually, you spotted a familiar tuft of sandy brown hair– the only person in eyesight moving against the crowd.

“Tyler!” you screamed. 

He reacted to your voice, his head turning in the direction he thought it was coming from. 

“Tyler!” you yelled again. 

This time, his eyes landed right on yours. 

But before you could even sigh the breath of relief that was sitting in your chest, you felt something, or rather someone jab into your side. The force was enough to make you stumble on your feet and fall to the ground with a thud. People continued rushing by– feet stepping on you, knees colliding into your back. At one point, you tried to place your hand on the floor to give yourself enough leverage to stand up, but as soon as you did, a white converse stomped right on your fingers, causing you to hiss out in pain. 

Panic began creeping up your throat– making it harder to breathe, let alone think of a plan. A dark cloud began clouding your vision, numbing your senses to what was happening around you. Until suddenly, you heard your name being called. The sound broke through the haze. Before you could react, you felt two hands sliding underneath your armpits from behind. And suddenly, you were being hoisted up from the ground. 

“I got you,” Tyler’s voice said in your ear. You didn’t even get a chance to turn and look at him before he was pushing you forward. “We gotta move.” 

Thankfully, his grip under your arms never faltered, otherwise you were sure you wouldn’t have been able to keep up. But eventually, Tyler pushed you towards the outer edge of the busy mall hallway. Once you were no longer in danger of being flattened by the crowd, he spun you around– hands clutching your shoulders tightly while he blocked the remaining traffic from reaching you. 

“Are you hurt?”

You shook your head. At least you didn’t think you were… But when you glanced down at yourself, you quickly realized why Tyler even asked. Your button down shirt was ripped– presumably from being grabbed, and the tank top beneath it had a few spots of blood splattered across the fabric. You weren’t even sure where it came from. 

“We gotta go,” Tyler said urgently.  

“The shelter–” you began, but Tyler shook his head. 

“Everyone’s heading that way, it’ll be full by now. Plus, we don’t have time– I looked outside and… it’s close.”

“What do we do?” you asked, voice trembling with fear. 

Tyler let his arms fall from your shoulders and instead grabbed onto one of your hands. He gave it a reassuring squeeze before nodding in the opposite direction of where everyone else was running. 

“The stairwell,” he said. 

You nodded shakily. “Okay.”

With that, Tyler was off– weaving his way in and out of the crowd. Luckily, it had thinned out dramatically– most people heading towards the parking lot or the storm shelter on the other side of the mall. Once you broke away from the thickest part of the crowd, Tyler’s grip loosened slightly on your hand. 

“C’mon,” he urged, leading you around the corner. At the very end of the hallway was the door that led to the stairwell. 

But you only made it a few feet down the hallway before you felt the floor shake beneath your feet. Only moments after, there was a loud bang just as a chunk of the roof was being ripped off the building. 

“Tyler–” you yelled. 

“Keep going,” he pleaded. 

With part of the roof separated, you could hear the winds whipping outside more clearly. The sound was deafening, like a freight train barrelling right for you. 

But even above the raging winds– you heard the cries of someone nearby. You looked to your left to see a mother and her child huddled underneath a display booth. 

“Tyler,” you said again, tugging on his arm. 

He slowed down, turning towards where your eyes were fixated. He hesitated, clearly conflicted on what to do. 

“We have to help them,” you said. 

His eyes scanned yours desperately before he nodded. “Wait here,” he said, releasing your hand. 

You watched as Tyler crossed the hall– trying to avoid the debris now falling from the roof. He called something out to the woman, but you couldn’t hear above the sound of the wind. It was enough to catch her attention though, because soon she was passing her son to Tyler. The poor boy couldn’t have been older than five or six. Tyler pulled him to his side with ease before reaching his other arm out and helping the mother up from underneath the table. 

Once she was on her feet, Tyler passed her back her son and pointed towards where you stood against the wall. She tucked her son’s head against her chest and began hurrying forward– Tyler at her heels as they fought against the increasing winds. 

“Take my hand,” you yelled. With the arm she wasn’t using to support her son, she reached for you. 

You grasped onto her and helped pull her against the wall. 

“Go to the stairwell,” you explained. “Get underneath them, as low as you can.”

She nodded, unshed tears glistening in her eyes before she began heading down the hall. 

Just then, you heard a deafening crack. You turned to see another piece of the roof being pulled off– causing large chunks of debris to begin falling. 

“Get down!” you heard Tyler holler. Using your arm, you shielded your head the best you could and shrank to the floor as the largest piece fell. A cloud of dust enveloped you as soon as it landed and you felt small pieces of debris bouncing against your skin– After a brief moment, you dared to look up. 

But Tyler was no longer standing in front of you. 

“Tyler!” you screamed. Without thinking, you moved forward, trying your best to stay low. But despite your best efforts, you were still caught off guard by the piece of metal that blew past your head, slicing open your skin– “Fuck!” you yelled, grabbing at your temple. When you pulled your hand away, your fingers were coated in a thick, crimson liquid. 

“Tyler!” you yelled again, voice growing increasingly frantic. 

“I’m here–” you heard him yell back, causing your shoulders to deflate slightly. As you crawled around the largest pile of debris, you saw him on the ground, moving a chunk of roofing off his foot. His eyes met yours, a flash of concern crossing his face when he saw your head. “You gotta get to the stairs–”

“No, no, no. Not without you,” you shook your head, continuing to move towards him as you felt the blood trickle down the side of your face. 

“The storm’s here– you gotta go. You gotta take cover,” he pleaded. 

“I’m not leaving you–” you cried, unable to control the tears burning behind your eyes. As they fell down your cheek, they mixed with the blood from your temple. Once you were crouched beside him, you used what little strength you had left to Tyler’s hand and pull him from the small pile of rubble. 

When you looked at the short distance between yourselves and the staircase door– you were surprised to see the woman, propping it open with her body and waving towards the two of you to hurry up. 

“Move–” Tyler encouraged, pushing you against the wind. “Go, go, go–”

You army-crawled forward, wincing as more debris nicked your skin. But finally– you reached the door. Tyler moved his hand to your waist and guided you towards the staircase. 

The woman reached for her son, who was crouched low in the corner. Meanwhile, Tyler moved you towards one of the railings. 

“Hold on to this–” he instructed. You wound your arms around the fixture.

"Don't go–" you begged.

But immediately after, you felt the warmth from his body wrap around you. You looked up and saw Tyler shielding your body with his own– his hands gripping the part of the railing just above yours.

“I got you,” he promised. “We’re gonna be okay, I got you,” he repeated. But soon his voice was swept away by the sound of the storm. 

The winds grew even louder as the tornado moved closer– the noise of various chunks of debris slamming into the ground around you made you shake. You squeezed your eyes shut– hoping and praying to whatever God might be out there that Tyler was right and you’d both be okay…

You weren’t sure how long the storm raged on. It felt like hours, although you knew that couldn't be right. Eventually though, the winds died down. In their absence, you could hear the sound of the woman comforting her son, along with Tyler’s labored breathing above you. 

With a shaky hand, you reached behind you– like you didn’t quite trust that he was still there. You felt the fabric of his jeans beneath your palm and sighed out the choppy breath that had been lodged in your throat. 

“Tyler,” you heaved pathetically, voice cracking. 

“I’m here,” he gasped, voice equally shaky as he gasped for air. “I got you.”

Nodding, you brushed your hair from your sweaty face and felt Tyler shift. Following his lead, you turned towards him. As soon as your eyes landed on him– hunched over and breathing like he’d just run five miles, you let out a choked sob. 

“Are you okay?” he panted.

“Tyler–” was all you could manage to blurt out. 

A calloused hand cupped your face– thumb trailing along your hairline. You winced when his thumb passed over a sensitive spot on your head from where you’d been hit earlier. “You’re okay,” he soothed. “We’ll get it checked out.”

You nodded, leaning into his touch as you desperately craved comfort from him. Seemingly picking up on your need, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and tugged you into his chest. “We’re okay,” he repeated, hand moving to cup the back of your neck. You let your eyes fall shut– inhaling the scent of his T-shirt. Even though he was coated in sweat and dust, he still smelled so comforting and familiar. 

He planted a kiss on top of your head before panting, “We gotta get out of here.”

You nodded, and forced yourself to pull away from him. Tyler helped you to your feet, eyes studying to make sure you were steady before he turned towards the woman. 

“You guys okay?” he asked. 

She nodded, clutching tightly to her son, who was still in her arms. 

“Alright, c’mon– be careful where you step,” he said, helping them out from the staircase. Tyler led them past you and into the hall before coming back for you. 

You desperately tried to steady your shaking legs. You were wobbly on your feet, but with Tyler’s help, you managed to maneuver your way out from underneath the staircase. 

As soon as you were back in the hall, your breath caught in your throat at the sight. The entire mall was destroyed– the roof had caved in, creating mounds of rubble everywhere you looked. There was dust all over– and no one else in sight. 

“Tyler–” you croaked again. His name seemed to be the only words you were able to form in your shock. 

“C’mon,” he urged gently, pulling you along. 

You let him lead the way, eyes scanning the debris hopelessly. You stopped in your tracks the moment you saw the first body– it was a woman, probably in her late twenties, just like you. She had a mound of tile stacked on top of her and a trail of blood soaking through her yellow sweater. Her eyes were still open– like they were frozen in fear. 

“Don’t look,” Tyler’s voice cut through the fog. 

He put his body between you and her and placed his hands on both sides of your face, forcing your gaze to meet his. 

“Sh– she’s dead,” you trembled. 

Tyler nodded solemnly. “I know,” he nodded. “Don’t look, okay? Just keep your eyes on me.”

Tyler wound his arm around your shoulders and tugged you into his side. With his fingers digging into the fleshy part of your hip, he led you forward, bearing the majority of your weight. Eventually, he managed to lead you all out of the rubble of the mall. 

“You sure you’re okay?” Tyler turned and asked the woman again. She nodded before thanking him and heading off in the direction of an ambulance. 

Tyler seemed to have something similar in mind. 

“I want to go home,” you insisted. 

But Tyler shook his head. “You need to get your head checked out first.”

“Tyler, please–” you whimpered. 

He glanced down at you– seemingly noticing the way your voice cracked. His face softened the moment he saw the tears sliding down your cheeks. 

“Hey–” he said gently. “Baby, you’re okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”

“I just want to go home,” you repeated. 

“I know, baby. I know,” he soothed. “But your head– I really want them to take a look. Then we can go home.” 

You sunk your teeth into your lower lip. After a moment, you nodded defeatedly and let Tyler lead you the rest of the way to one of the many ambulances parked near what was left of the mall. 

The paramedic who got to you first was a middle aged man with a kind smile. He told you how brave you were as he shined a flashlight in your eyes, checking your pupils. 

When he moved to the wound on your temple, now coating your entire hairline in gooey blood, you grimaced. 

“This is gonna need a few stitches,” he said after inspecting it. 

Tyler sat beside you and let you squeeze his hand as tightly as you needed while the paramedic stitched you up. He applied a local anesthetic but you felt every second of the needle threading through your skin. 

You held onto Tyler like your life depended on it, trying to allow his words of affirmation and comfort to consume you. 

“Almost done,” the paramedic said before clipping the remainder of the thread. He placed a clean bandage on the side of your head and offered you a soft smile. “You did great,” he told you. 

Although you were feeling detached from just about everything right now, you nodded in response before letting Tyler pull you to your feet. 

“Think you can walk?” he asked. 

You nodded again, although you didn’t entirely hear him. 

“The parking garage collapsed– but Boone’s on his way. He’s gonna give us a ride home.”

“Okay,” you mumbled softly, letting yourself melt into Tyler’s side again. 

The road where you met Boone was a short walk, and you were thankfully starting to get feeling back in your legs. But even still, you let Tyler support the majority of your weight as he guided you towards Boone’s familiar, beat up truck. Tyler held open the door and helped you climb inside.

“Christ–” Boone said, turning in the driver’s seat to get a good look at you. 

“She’s okay,” Tyler answered, sliding into the backseat beside you. Although he sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than Boone. 

“How the hell did you guys make it through that?” Boone asked as he surveyed the destruction around you. You forced yourself not to look. Instead, you rested your head against Tyler’s shoulder. “The blockade guy told me the entire storm shelter collapsed. I guess too many people crammed inside, so they couldn’t shut the door good.”

You swallowed thickly. If you hadn’t found Tyler, the storm shelter was going to be your plan B– 

“We hid under the staircase,” he said as Boone began down the road. “Had Dexter been tracking anythin’ out this way?” 

The two proceeded to talk about the sudden impact of the storm and whatever else tornado chasers cared about. Meanwhile, Tyler’s thumb trailed up and down your bare arm soothingly, allowing you to tune it all out. 

When Boone pulled down your dirt driveway and put his car in park fifteen minutes later, he turned to face you. “I’m real glad you’re okay.”

You offered him a weak smile. “Me too.”

After thanking his friend, Tyler helped you out of the car and towards the house, his hand never leaving your waist until you were inside. 

“Couch or bed?” he asked, shutting the front door behind him. 

“Couch,” you murmured. The bed meant stairs, which you weren’t sure you were ready for quite yet. 

“You got it,” he said. 

Gently, Tyler helped lower you to the couch, where you curled up against the corduroy fabric and sighed. 

But your eyes snapped open quickly as soon as you realized that Tyler wasn’t laying down with you. 

“Where are you going?” you asked, trying (and failing) to mask the panic in your voice. You shifted and sat up, a sudden wave of pain hit your head, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut. You tried your best to mask it and force your eyes back open. It felt pathetic, but you didn’t really want Tyler out of your sight right now. 

He turned around instantly. “I was just gonna get you some water and an ice pack, baby. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” you said uneasily. Your eyes remained trained on him the entire time he maneuvered around the kitchen. You could tell he noticed, too. His eyes kept flickering up to check on you. 

He was back in less than a minute– but still you sighed a breath of relief. He set the glass of water down on the side table before taking a seat on the other end of the couch. 

He handed you the ice pack and watched sadly as you placed it on your temple with a wince. 

“Can I get you anything else?”

“Will you– will you lay down with me?” you asked him. 

Tyler nodded. “Of course, baby.” He opened his arms, making a spot for you to lay between his legs. With your back resting against his chest, Tyler wound one arm around your middle and used the other to hold the ice pack against your head for you. 

Using what little strength you had, you gripped his forearm. “Just... please don’t go,” you begged. 

Tyler pressed his lips on the top of your head. “I won’t– I’m right here,” he assured you. “Not goin’ anywhere.”

You exhaled a sigh of relief and laid your head back against his chest, finally feeling content.  

After a while, you were finally able to drift off in his embrace. Your body ached and your head throbbed, but everything felt more bearable when you were in Tyler’s arms.

[norrisainz33]

Southern belle || CL16

☆ summary: charles’ and oscar’s rumored girlfriend is the it girl in country music and with the austin grand prix approaching fans wonder if they’ll finally know who she’s with

☆ pairing: charles leclerc x american!singer!reader

☆ fc & warnings: megan moroney and slightly suggestive - you are responsible for the content you consume

☆ requested: yes!! thank you for this request 🤍

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

ynuser has made a post

liked by sabrinacarpenter, charlesleclerc, oscarpiastri, patriciooward, formula1, arianagrande and 301,356 others

ynuser: huge announcement 🚨 i’m singing the national anthem at the austin grand prix!!! i can’t wait to see y’all there but in the meantime, i’m practicing my driving 🏎️🤍

view all 364 comments

user1: ohhhhhh my god yessss

user2: everyone peep both oscar and charles in the likes…..

user22: begging for new music queen 😭

formula1: quick someone get her seat on the grid

ynuser: put me in coach!

scuderiaferrari: you’re always welcome to join us for the weekend 😉

mclarenf1: or you can join us 🧡

user4: taking note of both ferrari and mclaren being here 💀

user3: MY FAV ARTIST AT MY FIRST GP?! IT DOESNT GET BETTER THAN THIS

patriciooward: see you there princessa

ynuser: can’t wait 🤍

user4: and why do none of yall think they’re together??

sabrinacarpenter: prettiest girl in the world

ynuser: says you,, a literal goddess

user6: y/n/n this is huge!!! i’m so excited for you

f1gossip has made a post

liked by user1, user2, user3, user4, user5, and 7,293 others

f1gossip: y/n y/l/n dropped a new song today and all signs say these lyrics could be about our very own charles leclerc. she sang this song for the first time today in atlanta while wearing a shirt that says “i 🤍 my situationship.” this comes after rumors of the pairing secretly seeing each other after being photographed together briefly in a miami nightclub. do we think the man who ‘isn’t from where she’s from and feels like home’ is a certain monegasque ferrari driver?

view all 435 comments

user1: first of all the shirt is absolutely iconic and i will be buying one exactly like it

user1: second of all i honestly hope she is talking abt charles

user2: idk the fact that the song is called tennessee orange makes me think it could be oscar… didn’t he also get rumored to be with her?

user3: omg it could be oscar!

user1: why would you guys think it’s oscar???

user2: user1 i think it’s because of that video mclaren posted where oscar and lando had to guess the lyrics to songs and one of y/n’s songs was played and oscar sang like the entire thing and lando was like umm??? and oscar turned beat red and said he really liked y/n

user1: ohhhhh my goodness ok i didn’t see that video. begging one of you to do a breakdown of all the info we have for oscar vs charles

user2: i got you , lemme make a twitter thread brb

user14: did y’all consider that this song is truly about a man from tennessee

user3: no! hope this helps!!

user4: ever since she dropped the lore that she loves f1 y’all have been grasping at straws to connect her to a driver fr

user34: do we think she could get him to a rodeo? i’d die to see charles at one

user7: praying with everything that i have that we get an answer abt who she is with at cota

user5: obsessed with this level of delulu from you f1gossip

user8: could you imagine the charles leclerc being your situationship???? i mean wow

ynuser has added to their story

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user1: why is everything you do so hot

user2: i wish i could see if oscar or charles swiped up

_quinnhughes: how about you come visit me next?

ynuser: i have heard vancouver is nice this time of year

charlesleclerc: oh wow

ynuser: 🤭🤭🤭

charlesleclerc: you’re more than welcome to take me for a ride after you’re done there

oscarpiastri: need some pointers on how to do this myself

ynuser: it’s all in the hips osc

oscarpiastri: noted

user12: i’m obsessed with you

user13: ok! cool girls ride mechanical bulls! taking notes 📝

user14: thank you for being so sweet at the bar this evening and taking a picture with us!! you are literally the nicest person in the world 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

ynuser has posted to their story

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user3: IM HERE AND IM READY!! YOU ARE GONNA EAT UP THAT NATIONAL ANTHEM

user6: RAHHHHH AMERICA 🇺🇸 🦅🇺🇸🦅🇺🇸🦅🇺🇸

oscarpiastri: hoping you are my good luck charm y/n

ynuser: wishing you a safe race ossie 🧡

user8: ugh youre in blue you were supposed to be in red or papaya to confirm which boy you’re with

charlesleclerc: i think you’d look amazing in ferrari red

ynuser: you think so?

charlesleclerc: i know so

iamrebeccad: i can’t wait to see you later

ynuser: likewise 🤍

yourbff: you’re living the dream, i miss you bestie

ynuser: i miss you more. please come visit me soon 😭

user13: so excited for you gorgeous girl

f1gossip has made a post

liked by user1, user2, user3, user4, yourbff, user5, user6, and 12,345 others

f1gossip: charles and oscar were stood next to each other during y/n’s rendition of the american national anthem and didn’t even look at each other once during the entire thing. do we think there’s trouble in paradise between the father son pair? could both of them be pining over the same gorgeous american princess?

view all 333 comments

user2: them standing next to each other is diabolical

user8: she IS america’s sweetheart and i just hope whatever boy she’s with is treating her right

user6: the way she was unphased and just pranced right on by them in her little cowgirl boots… iconic

user3: i was praying that she was going to stop and wish one of them good luck

user14: guys have we CONSIDERED that just bc she likes the sport and the drivers know who she is doesn’t necessarily mean she’s with one of them?!

user1: imma hold your hand when i say this

user22: my money is on one of them winning and kissing her in celebration

user33: my money is on them being secretly photographed at an after party

user44: tbh my money is on nothing being confirmed this weekend

user23: you better put some respect on my girls name and at least mention how she NAILED that anthem

charlesleclerc has made a post

liked by scuderiaferrari, landonorris, maxverstappen1, carlossainz55, ynuser, yourbff and 634,910 others

charlesleclerc: thank you austin for a fantastic weekend

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user7: OHHHH MY GOD

user2: i know that’s my girl y/n!!!!!! that’s y/n!!!!! you can’t convince me otherwise!!!

user1: it’s her 😭😭 war is over 😭😭😭

scuderiaferrari: congratulations on a great weekend ❤️

user3: she put him in a cowboy hat i’m screaming

maxverstappen1: 👀

charlesleclerc: 🥰

carlossainz55: who is that in the last photo? surely not you

charlesleclerc: it is me in the last photo!

carlossainz55: your pants are oddly tight there

user16: i love a cl16 podium

ynuser: who’s that cowboy?

charlesleclerc: your cowboy

user2: STOP IT

f1gossip: and y’all didn’t believe me

user73: someone check on oscar

landonorris: lmfao they’re all friends it’s ok

user2: LANDO IS ALWAYS AT THE WCENE OF THE CRIME

user24: prettiest boy on the podium as always

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user44: glad she stayed true and is wearing a football shirt and not ferrari merch

maxverstappen1: feeling a little betrayed that i’m finding out with the rest of the world. WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ME

charlesleclerc: mate i didn’t tell anyone

maxverstappen1: but i’m not just anyone 😔

yourbff: my beautiful girl - you better be good to her

charlesleclerc: i will be don’t worry!

user2: the confirmation i needed im obsessed with you both

ynuser: will always wear red for you charlie 😘

charlesleclerc: that’s my girl ❤️

user4: who’s this diva

user14: whelp i didn’t see this coming

carlossainz55: get her in a ferrari cap asap! also rebecca says you need to bring her to more races

charlesleclerc: trust me if i had it my way she’d be at all of them

user55: an american princess and a monegasque prince… a perfect match

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liked yourbff, scuderiaferrari, sabrinacarpenter, oliviarodrigo, carlossainz55, oscarpiastri and 239,836 others

ynuser: mama i like him a lot 🤭 (p.s i’ve always looked better in red)

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user6: can the european mind even comprehend texas and college football y/n?

yourbff: well… we’re all about to find out!

user2: brb sobbing this is so cute

landonorris: how did you convince him to put on a cowboy hat???

ynuser: it wasn’t easy that’s for sure

user3: my 2 fav things colliding. y/n and f1 ,,, i used to pray for times like this

charlesleclerc: and i like you a lot

ynuser: 🤭 i’m so glad you do

charlesleclerc: it’s simply impossible not to

user67: mama y papa

user89: i can’t believe you’ve fallen for a vroom vroom that isn’t in nascar

scuderiaferrari: welcome to the family y/n ❤️

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated 🫶🏻

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[steddielations]

Famous Eddie who's not a rockstar, but instead an actor who's known for playing incredibly complex villains, or creepy weird little thriller roles.

He does method acting sometimes, he used to get a little carried away with it when he was younger, but he condemns people who just use it as an excuse to be an asshole. His ways of getting into character don’t disrupt anyone else, except maybe his family sometimes.

For instance, for the role of a horror novel writer who slowly goes insane living alone in his apartment, he spent 3 hours in a dark closet every day. But his daughter didn’t understand how that was Daddy’s “work” and she kept sliding cookies to him under the door.

Or the time he was playing the role of a sex addicted cowboy who owned a traveling rodeo where people mysteriously disappear, and his husband finally let him get that swing he’s been wanting for years and— whoops, maybe Eddie shouldn’t have said that on national TV.

All his media training is pretty much useless but that’s part of his intrigue. He is who he is. He only resurfaces every couple years to promote a movie and the public is always so shocked at the reminder that his husband looks like that. Eddie just loves it. Yeah, he takes pride in being the freaky little actor nerd walking the red carpet with a guy who looks like he’s the movie star of the relationship.

[cattleheelsandadirtymind]

Another year of great entertainment!

[ilovebooberfraggle]

I need someone to make an NFR compilation that’s just Stetson Wright watching his brothers ride

[fishfooddude]

Tattoo Ink

Rhett Abbott x Reader

Rhett drunkenly gets your name tattooed while at an out-of-town rodeo. It’s kinda flattering…

Outer Range MasterList

Directory

After becoming a national qualifier at the Amelia Country Rodeo, Rhett was finally able to compete in the National Rodeo Finals in Las Vegas. Ten days and eleven nights of bull riding, drinking, and having fun with his fellow rowdy cowboys used to be Rhett’s ideal fun. Then he met you. The idea of going out with his peers wasn’t as fun as it used to be. He’d much rather go back to the hotel he’d been put up in with you and watch a movie, but you couldn’t come with him due to some work obligations. 

Rhett woke up the morning after placing third in the final rankings; he’d gone out with some of the other bull riders after some persuasion.

 “Com’on Rhett- you haven’t come out all week.” 

“What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.”

 “It’s tradition.”

 The words still rang in his ears as Rhett sat up in bed that morning. His head was pounding, and the overall soreness of riding caught up with him. He yawned loudly and got out of bed. He grabbed his phone from the floor before walking into the bathroom. Rhett grinned when he saw your congratulatory text; he quickly texted you back and told you he’d be back in Wabang later that day.

He tossed his phone on the bathroom counter before turning the shower on. As he turned, something caught his eye in the mirror. He glanced down and noticed a piece of saniderm sticking out of the top of his black boxer briefs, “Oh shit…” he mumbled. Rhett was no stranger to getting drunken tattoos, but what would he have gotten on his hip? He bit the bullet and shoved the band of his underwear down to reveal your name sprawled across his hip in a large calligraphy style.

“Well… hopefully she likes it..” 

~

It was late when Rhett had finally gotten home. He showed up at your apartment close to two in the morning. He let himself in using his key and dropped his duffle bag by the door before pulling his boots off and wandering back to your bedroom. You were lying in bed, face illuminated by your laptop screen, furiously typing something. Rhett had gone unnoticed until he was a few steps away from your bed. You jumped, your laptop almost falling off your lap, but you caught it. “Rhett?! You scared the crap out of me.”

Rhett chuckled, took the laptop from you, and placed it on your side table before climbing on top of you. You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck as his hands snaked around your waist. “I missed you, my pretty girl.”

“I missed you too, cowboy. Congrats on ranking! I wish I coulda sen you ride in person but I watched a couple live streams, and you were amazing.” you smiled as you hugged him tightly. Rhett inhaled the scent of your body butter as he held you closer.

“I did something a little stupid in Vegas…” Rhett started, he noticed your face go pale, “I didn’t cheat on you- lemme just show ya…” Rhett corrected himself, giving you some relief. He sat up and balanced on his knees before undoing his belt and unbuttoning his jeans.

“Rhett…” 

“You know I have a few tattoos… I got most of them when I was drunk and-” Rhett paused as he pulled his pants and boxer briefs down just enough to reveal the new tattoo he’d gotten in Vegas, “this one was also a drunk tattoo…”

“Is that… is that my name?”

“It is. Do you like it?” Rhett asked softly, hoping it wouldn’t scare you away. You thought for a moment before hesitantly nodding.

“I… I’m lost for words, Rhett. That’s my name on your hip…”

[lyak12]

Lucy Bronze x reader please. They get spotted multiple times by fans and paparazzi that they are together but they haven’t come out as a couple yet. So when reader scores winning goal at Wembley at the euros. Lucy kisses reader. Like cute fluff

Privacy, or not?

A/N: That request was just too cute and suddenly got really motivated to write. Cut me some slack, it's not very long, not proofread, and I'm a bit rusty, but I'd like to think it's a start:) Thanks for the cute req, Annie :))

Warnings: None just pure fluff

If there is one thing that is important to Lucy, it's her privacy.

You know that, and it's been openly communicated as you started dating a bit over a year ago. That means no love drunk posts on social media, or anything similar.

At first, you had thought this was going to be hard for you since you happily let your followers take part in your life, but you quickly realized that the beauty in this privacy is priceless.

You've never been so happy in a relationship.

---------

Lucy and you are currently walking at the beach near her apartment in Barcelona. You had quickly learned that Lucy values physical touch, and by now, whenever you were out together with no obvious paparazzi, her hand would always hold yours. Now isn't any different.

You look up at the brunette and can't help but smile. You're so happy. She notices you staring and asks, smiling, "What are you looking at?". "The person that makes me the happiest I've ever been", you just answer honestly as Lucy blushes slightly.

That's another thing you learned about Lucy early on in your relationship. She's pretty shy outside of football, and she could not deal well with being complimented.

"You're so cute when you blush", you just chuckle and cuddle into her side slightly. Lucy just rolls her eyes slightly before placing a soft kiss on your head.

You weren't surprised when the next day you were tagged in, I don't know how many tweets that show a very blurry picture of the two of you at the beach. People have been speculating about your relationship for months now.

As you crawl on the bed where Lucy is lying, you hand her your phone with the Pic. "You can not even tell it's us. They're just two blobs", she chuckles as you just start laughing. By now, it is just fun to tease the media.

You crawl into her arms and rest against her chest, cuddling close. "The paparazzi foto from the restaurant a couple of weeks ago has definitely been better", you mumble as she wraps her arms around you and holds you close. "That was a good one yeah", Lucy says as she kisses your forehead.

The euros were in just two weeks, and even though it's not your first rodeo with the national team, you always get a bit nervous. Lucy knows that, and she also knows that no matter how often she reassures you that everything will be fine, she can't get rid of your nerves completely.

"You thinking about the euros again?", she asks softly as she plays with your hair, and you just nod slightly. Crawling completely on top of her, you wedge yourself in between her legs and look up at her. "What if something happens to your knee?", you ask a bit worried. "Love, my knee is doing very well. Don't worry about me. We'll have a great tournament and play the sport we love, okay?", she asks as she looks into your eyes and caresses your cheeks. You nod and sigh softly before smiling at her.

And Lucy has been right. You both have been having an amazing tournament so far, and before you guys know it, you're in the final. All ready to win the euros. You've never witnessed the lionesses so hyped.

You got on in the 63th minute, and only minutes later, the Germans score a goal to make it even. You glance at Lucy from across the field, and she just nods at you. Telling you to stay focused. So that's what you do.

The regular time is over, so you move into the overtime. It's in the 111th minute that you have a perfect run, and you just take the shot. And it's in. At first, you can't believe it, and then you start cheering, running over to Lucy before jumping into her arms. Your other teammates jump on you too, cheering and yellin, but you only grin at Lucy.

You have never seen her look so unbelievably proud of you. She rests a hand on your cheek and kisses you. You haven't talked about it, but right now, it just felt right. And if Lucy is ready to make the two of you official, so are you.

You grin at her as you break the kiss before pecking her lips once more. You still had a game to finish. However, before you know it, the whistle is blown, and you're handed the medals and trophy. "We did it", you say, grinning at Lucy. "We sure did", Lucy says before pulling you in again for another kiss. "The fans that have been speculating and shipping us are gonna have a ball with this", you say, chuckling.

"Let them", Lucy just says, grinning and kisses you again. This is a nice way to end the tournament.

[ya-what--ya-erster]

Listen to me ramble about amputee Soda okay. BE WARNED THO ITS A LIL GORE-Y FOR A SEC THERE

I’m no longer waiting for someone to ask me. Let’s talk about Soda okay. Specifically my dear and beloved amputee Soda (which is an hc that I found in my notes from when I first read the book in 7th grade btw).

SO! Since it is apparent unspecified in the book what event Soda rides in. Bareback. Because I said and as a country person I would know. Rule of thumb for this post is as a country person I would know.

So obviously in the book Soda had to stop riding (because he tore his ACL I believe) BUT I have made it more tragic.

Instead, due to a series of events, Soda’s leg is absolutely *shattered*. Like. Bones sticking out shattered. Terrible, disgusting, think ten times the worst injury you’ve ever seen. (To continue on, the series of events which I mentioned is that he gets hung up and kicked, comes off the horse and lands on the leg weird, proceeds to be knocked to the ground and stepped on at full bucking force twice, and then additionally is stepped on by the pickup man’s horse that is throwing a fit. This is a goshdamn dangerous sport and this is all fairly possible. I want to say rare but honestly shit happens)

And obviously the exact second anyone sees it they know it’s all over. His family is worried for his life.

And his life doesn’t end but his career as a bareback rider who had *just seconds before his injury* qualified for the NFR (National Finals Rodeo for yall who have no clue what I’m talking about. Go watch a rodeo holy shit).

None of his family, him included, actually know how it works to be lacking a limb.

What they learn is that it’s expensive. That goshdamned prosthetic is expensive. But they want for Soda to be able to continue on with his life, so they take that chunk out of their bank account and do this for him.

It takes Soda a long time to figure out how to walk good. And he suffers awful phantom pain, especially after waking up from a gore-y nightmare about the accident that’s printed to the back of his eyelids.

but again things continue on. So yay for that!!!

now for just the bullet points cause I can

-he’s absolutely torn about not getting to ride anymore

-he can fight still. Ask the soc whos ass he kicked at the rumble. Maybe he’s not too fast but bro can pack a punch or six

-Darry and Pony try to be sympathetic to the fact that Soda still can have a hard time (mentally) but they really just don’t understand until they loose their parents. Because until then Darry and Pony had never truly lost anything, and Soda had.

-soda can’t bring himself to go to rodeos anymore because it makes him so so sad

-is the Ultimate Annoyed because yeah sure girls flirt with him a lot but after the accident all the flirting feels like sympathy and he don’t need that from them

-is even more drawn to Chet than before because Chet is still an absolute BITCH to him (just. Just a little. It’s guy flirting but soda can’t see that) and it makes him unreasonably happy

-like their first interaction after the accident goes like: “Hey, grease!” “Yup.” “I’m gonna kick your ass to Canada if you don’t get the fuck out of my sight” “ain’t ya gonna be nice to me cause a this” “I’ll keep it as a souvenir if you keep talking”

-but then they fall in love ofc

-the leg is names Angelica by the way.

-he wears long pants to cover it up even tho everyone knows about it, and compensates for that covered skin by Never Wearing A Shirt

-he absolutely uses it as an excuse for everything. Like sometimes it’s reasonable but sometimes it’s like “soda can yo pass the peas?” “No.” “Why” “Angelica.”

-at first he was really self conscious but after a good while he gets used to it and isn’t as bothered

-“Do you need help-“ “YOU CAN KISS MY ASS!”

-(I’ve written this part into the thing I’m writing but) Chet: is there anything you can do with just your hands? Soda: YOU

-two bit had hidden Angelica as a prank on more than one occasion

-soda also uses crutches instead of Angelica sometimes

-“you have two feet for a reason!” “HOLY SHIT ITS A MIRACLE!”

-“I’m gonna kick your ass.” (Proceeds to swing angelica unthreateningly in pony’s direction)

-“WATCH THIS!” (Stands for .5 seconds without Angelica and then has to get stitches on his head from falling down the porch steps)

“Don’t do horses kids” whenever anyone asks what happened (in reality tho he probably talks to people about how dangerous rodeo is. He tries to talk Chet and Dally out of competing but they won’t listen)

-“I’m not clumsy at all.” (Falls. Stitches again cause he hit the table)

-(has his leg showing) twobit: “you’re gonna scare the kids” soda: “what kids?” Twobit (joking): “Me.”

-“I’ll shove it up your ass no hesitation.”

-talks to Angelica casually to annoy Darry

-he let two bits little sister paint the “nails” on Angelica because “she wants to be pretty”

don’t question me for hells sake I did my research best I could and I know a lot about rodeo and stuff so like. Kindly correct me if I’ve been offensive but babe. On the topic of is this accident possible I know. I am aware. I have seen shit. Nothing this bad but this similar. Also go watch eight seconds it’s a true story people ACTUALLY HAVE DIED so don’t come after me on that bit. Hope you enjoyed.

BUT TALK TO ME ABOUT IT I BEG YOU

[purelyfiction]

miami vice || rhett abbott

Rhett Abbott x F!Reader

Word Count: 3,015 words

Summary: tailgates and trucker hats and drinky decisions. that's all.

Content Warning:  HEY!! THIS HAS SMUT!! So if you’re under 18 pleaseeee go away. (brother's best friend, f fingering, choking, oral f receiving, missionary, safe sex, CNC because drunk, strangers to lovers, possession kink if you squint?)

Author Note: hey bitches i'm not dead - jk ily all sorry. if you can't tell i'm self indulgent and needed to put this horny energy somewhere other than my head. enjoy.

"HEADS UP!" You barely register the sound before a sand filled bag clocks you right across the top of your eye, making you curse and drop your beer, hand flying up to your eye. The voice has traveled from the other side of the tent to land in front of you, a large hand taking your shoulder. "shit, i'm so sorry 'bout that."

Finally blinking away the pain in your eyelid, you can open both of your eyes to reveal the jackass who'd struck you - a jackass in a black sleeveless tank with a backward trucker hat. Your chin drops as you look him in very blue eyes, which are flooded with clouded concern. "You good? C'mere," his hand moves from your shoulder to behind your back as he moves to your side, carefully tucking under the tailgate tent. The male moves to one of what had to be a dozen blue coolers tucked under folding tables, pulling it open and carefully pushing the cold can to the affected eye. You've not said a damn word as he carefully settles the drink to your forehead, eyes still trained on him. "Real sorry, again I- my buddy's got shit aim."

"It's fine, I'll just go back to my place looking like I got jumped. " Your quick retort has him chuckling as he guides your hand to take the can and hold it. After he's sure you won't drop it, he's grabbing another two cans, large hands able to handle them with ease, extending one to you as he polishes off the other he'd carried over with him.

"You can actually drink that one." This time, its you laughing at you watch him crush the now empty can and toss it in a nearby hanging trash bag, clicking the tab to open it, foam coming to the top. Instinctually, you're dropping down to catch it with your lips before it can overflow onto his hand, the aluminum still in his grip. Withdrawing, you carefully navigate it from his hands.

"Thanks. You always treat the victims your sloppy shooter assaults?"

"Nah, only if they're stupidly hot." The forwardness leaves your eyebrows to pop up, the pain dully reminding you how you got here in the first place. The nameless cornhole vigilante reaches up to the tent frame, gripping to the accordion metal and leaning in. "I don't think I recognize you? Are you bummin' booze off these guys?"

"First you hit me with a sandbag and then have the nerve to question if I'm crashing a tailgate that isn't mine?" No Name points to your with an index finger while the remaining fingers keep curled around his Miller Lite.

"Good point. Name's Rhett." Nodding in response, you're carefully moving back to the cooler to toss a somewhat warm can back to the cooler, and return to your spot. Sorta. The brunette somehow seems closer - at least his face seems that way. You introduce yourself in response, and he laughs. "Dane's sister?"

"That's the one. This is all him. The RV, the parking pass - the booze I'm 'bumming' from him." Another sip of his beer blocks the view of his devilish grin. It almost matches the flames of the shirt he's wearing. "Where's the accent from? Definitely doesn't sound like it's from here."

He would proceed to explain that he's originally from Wyoming, and had come down to compete in the National Rodeo Circuit finalist events. That made him a cowboy cornhole viglinate. Rhett had insane stories from his events - like how he fucked up his shoulder on one of his best runs and rode again the very next day. When he ran out of stories - two beers later - he was happy to attempt to get revenge on his former cornhole partner for smacking you across the face.

"You're absolutely ass at this!" He laughs, watching the bag splat against the concrete. Bouncing along to a nearby speaker you turn to him when the other two start collecting bags.

"I gotta admit - I've never played."

"You-" His face fills with surprise and disdain, shaking his head, "How have you never- damn it, we're teaching you."

On the next turn, Rhett keeps the bags to himself, and feeds one into your hand. Before you can throw it however, his larger hand comes under yours, fingers skating along your forearm before getting comfortable under your grip. His chest is flush against your back, his scruff brushing against your ear as he leans in. Thick drawl gives you instructions about the power you want to put behind the throw, moving your arm along with it. Guiding your toss, the orange bag goes flying through the air, lands on the board and slides right into the hole. "Atta girl."

You end up losing the game, mainly because Rhett's cheating by continuing to tug you backward by the belt loop every time you take a shot to the board. Each time you looked over at him with a scowl, he would sip at his drink, mumbling 'don't look at me'.

The closer and closer to game time that you got, the thinner and thinner the tailgate group got. Dane had started cleaning up, his friends helping him put things inside the RV and his friend's pickups. Rhett still clings to you like tipsy velcro, his hand stuck in your back pocket as you try to help pack things away.

"Here, I'll dump out the cooler."

"Rhett there's still-"

"Oh there's still beer in here. Would be a shame to let it go to waste." Tossing one to you - which you somehow catch - he's snagging Dane's keys from a nearby table, pushing the first key blade he can find into the bottom of the can, duplicating the hole in your can that he's guided to the horizontal position. Dropping the keys to his feet, he looks at you. "Do I gotta teach this shit to you too?"

"You gonna cheat at this too?"

"Who said this was a race?" He asks.

"This is always a race. Three, two-" Both tabs crack open as you push the cans to your mouths, shotgunning commencing without a final count. As you tilt the can properly, you realize that Rhett has already finished his can, dropping it to the pavement. How the fuck- you obviously can't ask as you continue to chug, your throat working as you keep downing the liquid. Rhett's hand, coated in beer, carefully tucks under your chin, pushing your head further back, back and back.

"You can take it." If you weren't so determined to show him up - you would've sputtered foamy wheat water everywhere. You nearly choke thanks to the new pace, but make a smooth recovery. Dropping the can, you gasp for air, throwing your head back as you let the beverage settle in your stomach. Looking at Rhett, he's got a stupidly large grin on his face, upper lip covered in beer foam. You're about to say something when Dane comes out of the RV, calling your name.

"You don't have tickets right?" Nodding, the cowboy looks at Dane and then at you.

"You're not going?"

"Unless you're tucking me into your purse, Rhett - no." Dane slaps the taller male's shoulder before reaching down for the keys on the ground and pushing them into your hand.

"These are yours 'til we get back," Turning to Rhett, he nods toward the stadium. "Ready to start walking?" The mid-west male starts patting at his jeans, all the way down to his boots. Popping up to his full height, he grips your brother's shoulder much like he had yours earlier.

"I can't find my phone or my wallet. Let me go check the RV - I'll just meet you at the seats." Dane nods, and moves to the rest of the group, starting the trek to the metal building. When they're out of earshot, Rhett's hand tucks back into your pocket again. "You wanna give me the tour?"

In the most hasty fashion, you clamber into your brother's RV, showing off the kitchenette/living area, before leading him to the bunk areas, where you'd be sleeping tonight. Rhett's hand hasn't left your pocket at this point. As you show off the tiny space, he laughs. "What's so funny?"

"It's cute y'think both of us are gonna fit in there." Like a tipsy cocker spaniel, your head tilts at him. Fingers move to grip your ass through your jeans, before he spots the pocket door to the owner's bedroom of the mobile home. He's easily pushing the door open, a larger queen sized bed waiting on the other side of the door. "That's more like it." Before you can argue with him, his lips are latching to yours, hands gripping your hips enough to tug you flush against his own.

Rhett is efficient in pulling the jersey you were roasting in off your shoulders. The cowboy is about to let it hit the floor when you pull back. “Be smart about this.” You warn. Before you can blink, he’s thrown it to a side table and you back onto the bed.

“Or. You be smart and leave the commands to me.” A hand slides up from your lower back, up along your spine, soft finger tips electrifying the skin under them as he finds the strap of your bra. His lips busy themselves along your neck, wet and sloppy open mouthed kisses are soft and smooth compared to the sharp and coarseness of his stubble. The clasps are disengaged in quick time, and he pulls away from your skin to switch to the other side of your neck. Your bra- unlike the jersey- is discarded to the floor, leaving you in jeans that hugged you well, and sweat slick bare skin.

He carefully cups your breast, gripping onto it, a thumb rolling over the peak as your head cranes back. His kisses are getting shorter and closer and closer to your chest, until the warm and wet feeling blooms along your other boob, his tongue forming many shapes in the process. Your hands are eager to tug the backwards hat off his head, fingers carding through his hair, tugging with teeth teasingly scraping your skin a moan lifts from you. “Oh did my girl like that?” He taunts, moving to switch sides.

As he keeps mouthing at your tits, his hands busy themselves with your belt and button of your pants. It’s damn near expert execution, jeans swiftly thudding to the floor, no awkward entanglement to be found. His maneuvers leave you with only your panties left to hide yourself from him, but even then, a curious index finger runs along your pussy lips through the skimpy material. Slowly, he pulls the elastic free from your skin, running along it in a pacing line, smirking up at you as he moves to the edge of the bed. "This is such a treat, cause I know that stadium doesn't serve tacos." Adjusting to sit on your forearms, you stare him down as his lips start leaving wet spots along your inner thighs, a slight sound leaving you. "Did you just call my pussy a taco?"

An idiotic and drunken smirk floods his face as rough hands slide under the sides of your underwear. "Depends. Am I gonna starve, or are you gonna let me eat it?"

The surprise on your face speaks for itself as his hands free the material from your hips. His hands come to your calves, guiding your legs to prop up and spread apart. "Let me just set my plate here- that's just perfect." It takes mere seconds for his tongue to slide between your folds, the sensation making you somewhat melt along the duvet under you. He doesn't continue in his stripe patterns but in zig-zags, waves - patterns that tease you and just barely hit your clit. Rhett keeps this behaviour up until you're grinding up against him, his hands grabbing your hips. The hold is tight, and sharp blue eyes glare up at you, darkening as you whine.

"You're gonna stay right where I put ya. Y'hear?"

"But-" He snaps up back onto his feet, hovering over you again, his finger tips gliding along your skin and delicately wrapping around your throat.

"Wanna try that again?" It's punctuated with the slightest squeeze, the revelation that he was truly in control. You shake your head, and he smirks, his eyes locking you and your attention in as he catches you off guard, his other hand pushing a finger into you, thoroughly soaked from his toying. "Good girl. You just sit there and look all pretty while I take care'a you." His hand at your lower half begin to pump in and out, his other hand still decorating your body in the form of a necklace. "You are just the damndest thing I ever did see, know that baby?"

Rhett's thumb comes from the side of your neck, tracing along your jawline and chin before it taps your bottom lip. "Open up, my girl." You do as you're told as he dips his thumb past your lips, instinctively closing around him. Your cheeks hollow out as you suck intently - the digit stifling the moan that vibrates through you as he gets another finger into you. "God you are so fuckin' beautiful." It's muttered as his hand picks up a pace, your body relaxing and holding onto him tightly in two separate places. The faster his hand rocks into you, the more distracted your tongue becomes, he can tell. Which is why his hand pulls back, using the slick from your lips to begin rubbing circles against your clit, the feeling making you sigh in contentment. His lips trap yours momentarily, his tongue running along your teeth as his hands blindly work against you.

"Fuck, you are so wet for me, aren't you?" Rhett pulls back, the both of you catching your breath as pushes - in, out, in out. Your jaw slacks, trying to get an answer out. A particularly rough thrust of his hand drives his question again. "Aren't you?"

Eagerly, you nod, a gasping answer sneaking out. "Yes, god, I'm so wet, so wet for you, Rhett."

His hands retreat, moments from letting you finish with just his fingers. The male is rapidly undoing his belt buckle, slithering a hand into his back pocket, fishing out a condom from it. He sticks it between his teeth as he barely manages to get his hard on free from his boxers.

Part of you wants to ask him to let you put it on, let you admire the length that has sprung free from his jeans, but you know he's working against a running clock. Someone is going to notice he's taking too long. He didn't want to run that risk it seems.

The wrapper disappears somewhere. You're sure it remains somewhere in the RV floorboards, but as he's entering you, there's no fucking way you care where the evidence went.

Rhett presses into you, inch by inch, his lips playing with a spot on your neck. He stretches you so well, a hiss coming from you that times well with how he sucks a bite mark onto your skin. "My girl's so tight for me. Fuckin' so goddamn tight." His voice is low, gruff and right in your ear.

The smell of his body wash hovers over you, mixing with the newly formed scent of sex in the air as he pulls back, only to move forward again. "Sweetheart, you want me to move?"

"Yes, yes I want you to move-"

"Ask me nicely, baby." He freezes above you, staring you down, piercing blue eyes drinking you in like this. Sweat slick from the stale air of an RV and the Miami heat, tucked under him, captive.

"Please move, baby. Please, I just wanna come." The expression he makes strokes your ego in ways it likely shouldn't.

"Oh you're gonna come, I'll promise you that- you're gonna come." His hips begin rutting into you as he stands up a little further, hands coming up under your knees. Propping your legs up slightly, not fully extended but providing an angle to get even deeper into you, a sound escapes you, pinpointing exactly when he does. As his thrusts move quicker and quicker, your legs seem to slip from his hands, leaving him to reach up on the bed, snagging the nearest pillow.

"Hips up, sweetheart." A pant leaves him as he aids you to pop up, sliding the cushion under you. Upon the next thrust, and each one after, Rhett continues to hit the exact same spot, earning himself a rhythm of moans that time with his hips. "Oh honey, if they didn't know, they sure do now."

His hand drops between where the two of you meet, his thumb returning to do paces, sending you careening off the edge and into a blazing white haze, your body shuddering from the sensation.

Your cowboy continues his pace, no faster, no slower - continuing to ride out until you're nodding, encouraging him along. His pace picks up, his lips snagging onto yours as the sound of a cell phone comes from the floor. It only serves as encouragement for him, until he's finishing, his upper body hovering over yours as sloppy kisses and whimpers from him fill the soundscape.

His phone stops ringing, and when he pulls out, you remain trapped under him. Rhett gives you one more slow kiss before he moves to pull off the condom, cleaning himself up. "I think that big brother of yours is lookin' for me." He charms, pulling his pants back up, zipping himself up.

"Seems like it does." You offer, squirming on the bed, not ready to get up yet. Rhett pulls his phone from his pocket, nodding and confirming that's who'd called.

This time, your phone starts going off.

Simultaneously, his does too.

Then there's a pounding coming from the RV door.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 12/17/2024

exactly eleven months unemployed yaaaaay. this is late partly bc i went into a fugue state with a craft

listening

the genshin album with the song im obsessed with is finally officially out. this is background music in the Flower Feather Clan, who are loosely gaucho-inspired but also ride giant firebirds? sick as shit.

it reminds me a lot of aaron copland's rodeo suite and his billy the kid ballet, especially the little hoedown passage at the end.

-

reading

ripping through more stacks of awful fantasy paperbacks. none of them are bad in an interesting way.

great sex reporting as always from sam cole at 404 media. would strongly encourage people to sign up for their newsletter and make a free account to get past the anti-bot-scraping wall

“If anything, the fact that ‘tradwife’ is a trending porn search term reminds me that the entire concept of the tradwife is just influencer marketing in the first place,” Dahl said. “Most tradwife influencers are actually business owners and the primary breadwinners in their homes, so the term itself is kind of an oxymoron if you think about it. Maybe seeing a bunch of porn labeled "tradwife" will help other people to realize that whether it's an Instagram influencer or a Pornhub creator, tradwifery is just a fantasy after all.”

-

watching

Tide-Line Blue, a 2005 anime which should feel made especially for me: i love one-season post-apoc anime. it's available on tubi (which is where i found it dicking around for something to watch) but i'm not really sure why it's so difficult to find videos of it on the actual internet.

Tide-Line Blue is set after an environmental disaster later called the "Hammer of Eden" has submerged 90% of the Earth under water and taken six billion lives. The series begins fourteen years after that event with the new and remaining countries being brought together under the New United Nations. However, Gould, a renegade submarine captain wishes to use military force to create peace in the new world order, while Aoi, the secretary-general of the New UN, wishes to use diplomacy, and a boy named Keel finds himself caught up in the middle of it all.

unfortunately this was VERY bad at laying out and explaining the political drama driving the plot. we do not find out Why the rogue submarine captain went rogue until the second to last episode. and not in a teasing raising the stakes way. we spend So much time with this captain, and his decisions feel quite frankly nonsensical a lot of the times without this EXTREMELY important context we do not find out until a halfhearted flashback when he is remembering something. never is this communicated to one of our main POV characters. ever!

i also had to throw my disbelief into the next county bc an astronaut is trapped up there for seven years on a private imaging-based satellite. that man would be dead. it takes the combined powers of many nations and thousands of engineers to keep the ISS at "not currently exploding". and part of that is bc she is very old and only has a little bit of a taste for blood (unlike skylab which actively tried to kill her astronauts at every opportunity) but ONE guy for SEVEN YEARS is still able to make daily transmissions???? that man should be exploded by now. or in organ failure. the human body is not meant to be in space and does not like being in space, as a general rule.

there's a mom that's just. missing. and this is not particularly remarked upon or relevant. i guess she's off doing her own thing? or maybe dead? very unclear. not important but did annoy me.

very pretty pilot episode, and i had a fun time thinking about the ways people survive during massive sea rise, how communications networks without satellites work (i assume there's a lot of bouncing stuff off the moon but the debri cloud around earth looks fucking gnarly in the outer space segments). really do wish this one was better but it is incoherent at best a lot of the time. "eeeee big ship lots of loving shots of instrumentation" only gets me so far

-

playing

Two Full Years Of Stardew Valley. i picked the beach farm bc i wanted to spend more time fucking around in the mines and uncovering secrets and romancing someone (i have never successfully romanced someone in stardew valley) and then forgot that the farming game does actually want you to do a lot of farming to progress. kind of wish i had not picked the beach farm but i am making a fucking killing selling void and dino mayo and various cheeses. plus my eels are happy?

-

making

my back finally feels mostly very uncomfortable instead of excruciating, and i certainly overdid it today cleaning but my house was Gross. i also ripped apart my vacuum and cleaned the dust canister and filters bc that shit was Gross.

40+ christmas and new years' and some very overdue postcards are in the mail: canadian pals, my post office would not even take yours and said to hang onto them until after the strike. i am so sorry. also i have way more canadian pals than i thought!

there are two kinds of thrift stores: ones that like to bag a billion small items together and have a huge horrible wall of weird bagged shit, and thrift stores that don't do that. this was loose on a shelf, i had to get a goodwill manager to price it, and they said "i dunno. 2.99?" so i have had a very pleasant evening gluing together this extremely thin laser cut wood in the style of a papercraft. thank you goodwill.

[venactricisfics]

Bucking Tradition: A Yellowstone Fanfic

Chapter Five

yellowstone ryan x OC

The barn smelled of hay and leather—familiar, comforting, and grounding—even as I tightened the straps on my saddle with a determination that bordered on defiance. The invitation to the National Rodeo Championship had arrived a week ago, but the weight of it felt like it had settled on my shoulders for much longer.

“Steady, Denim,” I murmured, stroking his neck. Denim snorted in response, tossing his head as if to say, Let’s get on with it. He was ready.

My father’s words echoed in my ears, sharp and unwavering. “You’re not going, Alex. That’s final.”

But I’d stopped listening to “final” a long time ago.

Dad thought I should stick to working on the ranch. To him, rodeo was a hobby, not a career. He wanted me to go to vet school, even going so far as to apply on my behalf. It wasn’t that I couldn’t do it—I was smart enough, capable enough. It just wasn’t my dream.

I climbed into the saddle, then stood on Denim’s back as he trotted into the corral. We raced around the makeshift arena, moving seamlessly through my routine. The level four tricks I’d incorporated now felt second nature, like they were part of me. As we reached the final stretch, I flipped from Denim’s back and landed on my feet, striking a pose, my arms raised in anticipation of applause.

There was none, of course. This was just practice. But Ryan’s voice rang out from the fence line, hooting and hollering like I’d just won the championship.

“Thanks!” I called, giving him a playful bow.

He leaned against the fence, watching me with a mixture of pride and concern. Ryan hadn’t said much since I’d told him I was going to Vegas. He didn’t need to. His face said it all—he was proud of me, but the thought of being apart weighed on him as much as it did on me.

“You’re pushing too hard,” he said, his voice cutting through the quiet.

I led Denim toward the barn, brushing a hand along his flank to keep him calm. “Tricks I’ve got, but I haven’t done barrels since I was twelve. I have to be ready for everything.”

“You’ll be ready,” Ryan said, climbing over the fence to join me. “You already are.”

“Then why does it feel like everything’s working against me?” I asked, the frustration creeping into my voice.

“Because it is,” he said with a small, reassuring smile. “But you’ve never let that stop you before.”

I brushed down Denim, letting him cool off after the run. His coat glistened with sweat, but his eyes were bright, eager, as if he knew what lay ahead for us. I smiled and filled his trough with his favorite hay and alfalfa mix, giving him a grateful pat before stepping out of the stall.

The barn’s warm light spilled over me as I stepped into Ryan’s waiting arms, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him close. “Thank you for believing in me,” I whispered, my voice soft but steady.

Ryan smiled down at me, his eyes filled with a warmth that made my chest ache. “You’re easy to believe in,” he said, his arms tightening around my waist. Then his lips met mine, and I melted into the kiss, deep and lingering, savoring the moment.

I’d miss this so much in the week I’d be gone. My heart squeezed at the thought. If I won, it wouldn’t just be a week. It could mean months on the road, touring across the country.

Pulling back just enough to catch my breath, I rested my forehead against his. “I wish I could take you with me,” I murmured. “But I know your job is here.”

Ryan sighed, his thumb brushing gently against my cheek. “I’d go if I could,” he admitted, his voice low. “But even if I can’t be there, you know I’m always in your corner, right?”

I nodded, a quiet affirmation of everything he’d said. I believed him. And I wasn’t about to let the time slip away without savoring every moment we had left together. I pulled him toward the storage room, where the cot still stood—a far cry from the romance of a moonlit night, but with Ryan beside me, it became something else entirely.

My hands fumbled to tug his shirt loose from his pants, pulling it quickly over his head, and then I followed suit, peeling off my own clothes. The urgency between us was undeniable, but in those fleeting seconds, I wished time would slow down, giving us more to hold on to.

But I knew we didn’t have that luxury. The tension built in my chest, pushing me forward as I kicked my pants off and straddled his hips. A soft groan escaped me as I sank down onto him, feeling the rush of warmth and connection flood over me.

Ryan’s fingers dug into my hips, his grip both grounding and possessive as I moved against him, matching the rhythm of the moment. 

The pressure inside me built, every nerve buzzing on the edge of release. I bit my lip, trying to stifle the cries threatening to escape me, as the sensation grew overwhelming. Then, with a final burst, everything snapped. My muscles clenched around him, releasing in waves, each one deeper than the last.

A warm glow spread through me, flooding my senses as I held my breath, savoring the ache that lingered. It coaxed his own release, the deep connection between us intensifying, filling the space with a quiet, shared satisfaction.

I collapsed in a heap on his chest, my breath still coming in shallow gasps as I rested against him. His fingers threaded through my hair, the gentle motion calming me, helping our breathing slow and steady.

“I love you,” I whispered, the words slipping out before I could stop them. I hadn’t said it before. I’d been scared to, afraid of saying it at the wrong time, worried it would sound cliché, like some romantic afterthought. But it felt right in this moment, in his arms.

Ryan’s fingers stilled for a second before he smirked, his voice light yet warm. “I know.” He chuckled softly. “What’s not to love?”

The quiet between us lingered for a moment, the weight of my confession settling in the air. But time didn’t stop for feelings, and the reality of what was ahead crept in. I could already hear the sounds of Denim’s hooves tapping against the barn floor, the shift in the atmosphere around us as the world began to move again.

I pushed myself up from Ryan’s chest, reluctant to break the peace but knowing there was work to be done. “We should get the horses ready,” I murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear.

Ryan’s gaze softened as he watched me, then he gave me a small nod. “Yeah, we don’t want to miss the road.”

I stood and stretched, taking a deep breath, grounding myself in the moment. The truck needed loading, the horses needed to be prepped, and soon we’d be on the road—my last trip before the National Championship.

I grabbed Denim’s halter and led him out of the stall, the rhythm of the barn taking over as we slipped into the routine. The saddles, the tack, the last-minute checks. My thoughts kept drifting to the ride ahead, but for now, I focused on the practical, the physical. Getting everything in place before I left it all behind.

Ryan was right there, helping with the final touches, his hands quick and efficient. But there was an undercurrent of tension, the unspoken knowledge that this would be different. This time, it wasn’t just a rodeo; it was everything I’d been working for.

—---------

The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft glow over the ranch as the cool morning air wrapped around me like a reminder of everything I was about to leave behind. Denim stood in his stall, waiting, calm and patient, as I pulled on my gloves and headed toward the barn. It felt surreal—this was happening. This was the moment I’d been working toward, and yet, it felt like I was leaving a piece of myself behind.

Ryan was at the truck, checking the hitch on the trailer, his movements sharp, efficient. He glanced up when he saw me approach, but his eyes softened when they met mine, a silent understanding between us.

“You sure about this?” he asked, his voice low but steady.

I paused for a moment, my fingers wrapped around Denim’s halter. “I have to be,” I said, even though the uncertainty was gnawing at me. “I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“I know,” he replied quietly. “Just... be careful out there, alright?”

I gave him a small smile. “I will.” But it wasn’t just the road I was worried about. It was everything—the distance, the time apart, the unknown. But we didn’t need to say all of that. The silence between us was filled with everything we couldn’t express in words.

We finished loading the horses into the trailer in a quiet routine, the familiar motions of saddling up and securing everything for the road. I moved with purpose, but there was a weight on my chest, a heaviness that wouldn’t leave.

Once Denim was settled, I grabbed my bags and stowed them in the truck. Ryan was still standing there, leaning against the side of the trailer, watching me. He didn’t come closer, didn’t make any move to hold me back. He just stood there, his eyes following every step.

I climbed into the driver’s seat, the engine purring to life beneath me. I looked at Ryan one last time before pulling away, his silhouette growing smaller in the rearview mirror. The road stretched ahead of me, endless and unknown, but for the first time, I felt the weight of the world lift off my shoulders.

I’d hoped Dad would have seen me off, but I knew better than to expect it. His refusal to support me was as firm as ever, and I could almost feel the tension in the air, the space between us left wide open by his absence. He wasn’t going to back me on this, not when he thought I was chasing a dream that didn’t fit his vision. But I wasn’t going to let that stop me.

I pressed my hand over my heart, the same place where Kayce’s scar marked him, a constant reminder of the cost of living in this family. I hadn’t been punished the way he had when he left, but the sting of disapproval still lingered. It always did.

I looked out at the ranch one last time, the place I had always known, and felt a pang in my chest. I would miss having my family in the stands, cheering me on. But I was doing this for me, and they had their own lives to live. The ranch needed tending, and that was something none of us could ever escape. But I had my own path now, and it would take me far from here, at least for a while.

—--

The thousand-mile journey had been long and grueling, but I kept telling myself it would be worth it. Each passing mile felt like it added a little more weight to my shoulders, and by the time I pulled into the equestrian center, the exhaustion had settled deep into my bones. I could feel the fatigue in my eyes, my muscles sore from hours of sitting in the truck, but there was still one thing I had to do before I could rest.

The horses.

I parked the truck and trailer, glancing at Denim and the others in the rearview mirror. They'd been cooped up for far too long, and I could see the impatience in their eyes. I was their caretaker, their rider, and I had to make sure they were settled before I even thought about closing my own eyes for the night.

I climbed out of the truck and made my way to the security guard booth. He gave me a nod as I approached, and I returned a half-smile, too tired to do more. "Over there," he gestured toward the far side of the lot where the other competitors were parking. "You can let 'em out there."

"Thanks," I murmured, already heading in that direction.

I parked the truck and unhitched the trailer, letting the cool evening air wash over me. Denim nickered from inside the trailer, eager to stretch his legs, and I couldn’t blame him. The horses had been troopers through the long journey, but even they needed a break.

With each step toward the trailer, I could feel the tension in my chest ease. The horses would be alright for the night. Tomorrow, I’d tackle the championship, but for now, I could give them the attention they needed, and maybe, just maybe, find a moment to breathe.

I walked into the room, and Luxe didn’t even begin to cover it. The bed was a plush oasis, and the pillows looked like clouds begging me to sink into them. The temptation to collapse onto the bed and forget everything was almost overwhelming, but something caught my eye before I could give in.

A gift basket sat on the bar, neatly arranged with an assortment of snacks, toiletries, and a bottle of something strong. The card was simple, written in familiar handwriting: “Good Luck, Bitsy. From: Jamie.”

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. My brother. He never said much, especially not in front of our father, but this—this was his way of showing he cared. He’d never openly defy Dad, but I knew better than anyone that he wanted me to succeed, even if he couldn’t say it aloud.

It was too late to call him, too late to thank him for the gesture, but that small act of kindness was enough to settle my nerves a bit. No matter how much distance there was between us, no matter how much our lives had changed, some things stayed the same. Jamie cared. Even if he couldn’t show it the way I needed him to.

I sat on the edge of the bed, the weight of the card in my hand grounding me. Tomorrow was another step forward, and I was ready for it, despite everything else.

I changed into my pajamas, the soft fabric a welcome change after the long day of travel. The bed seemed to swallow me whole, the plush mattress a tempting escape. I sank into it with a deep sigh, my body finally giving in to exhaustion. Just as I was starting to relax, my phone buzzed in my hand, and I smiled when I saw his name on the screen.

“Hey, baby,” Ryan’s voice came through clearly, warm and familiar. “I wanted to catch you before you went to sleep and say good night.”

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, his voice washing over me like a gentle wave. It was a reminder of home, of what I was working toward. The championship was right in front of me, but in that moment, all I could think about was the man waiting back at the ranch. The distance between us seemed to close with each word he spoke, the sound of his voice grounding me.

“I miss you,” I whispered, letting myself feel the ache in my chest.

“I miss you too, more than you know,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “But you’re gonna do great. I believe in you.”

I closed my eyes for a moment, imagining him there beside me, offering comfort and strength in the way only Ryan could. I didn’t need anything else to remind me of why I was here, but hearing his voice made everything feel just a little more manageable.

“I’ve got a surprise headed your way in the morning,” Ryan’s voice was laced with a playful smile, even over the phone.

“Surprise?” I raised an eyebrow, curiosity piquing. “What is it?”

“That wouldn’t be much of a surprise if I told you,” he teased.

I laughed softly, feeling a warmth spread through me at his lighthearted tone. “I can’t hardly wait,” I yawned, the exhaustion finally catching up with me. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, Alex. Get some sleep. If I don’t talk to you again before the big day, just know I’m thinking about you.”

His words settled over me like a comforting blanket, and I closed my eyes for a moment, letting them sink in. Despite the nerves and everything ahead, I knew I wasn’t alone.

Sleep came quickly, the weight of the day finally letting me rest. Morning arrived with the first rays of light filtering through the curtains. A sharp knock at the door pulled me awake, and I rubbed my eyes before swinging it open.

Standing there in the doorway, silhouetted against the hallway light, was a familiar cowboy.

Travis Wheatley.

He’d sold me my first barrel racing horse—or, more accurately, sold it to my father, and I’d gone on to buy every horse from him since. Travis was brash, no-nonsense, and always had a way of making his presence felt. Of course, he also ran the rodeo circuit, which meant he knew his way around the sport as well as anyone.

I raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe. “So... are you my surprise?”

“I’ve surprised many women,” Travis said, his gaze running over me as I stood there in my oversized sleep shirt. “But I was expecting something a little... different.”

I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms. “I wasn’t expecting company this early,” I shot back. “But I think there’s coffee or something around here. I can make some if you’re interested.”

Travis smirked, clearly amused by my lack of concern for his early arrival. “Coffee sounds good.”

I fumbled with the coffee maker, popping the K-cup into place before quickly heading to the bathroom to get dressed and brush my teeth. A splash of makeup, just enough to feel a little more awake, and I was back in the room.

Travis looked up as I entered, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “You might wow the judges more in that little T-shirt you had on last night,” he teased.

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of my lips. He handed me a card, the edges slightly frayed, with my number for the event and the order of events printed neatly. Barrel racing, roping, and finally trick riding.

“Can you actually eat before you spin your little horses in circles for the judges?” I teased, a smirk playing on my lips. “Or does it just make you sick?”

“Very funny,” he grinned, unbothered. “Come on, let’s get some food.”

“I promise I won’t stand too close to you,” I said as we walked down the hall, rode the elevator, and headed into the lobby restaurant. “Wouldn’t want to keep you from your next new ex-wife. Though,” I added, eyeing him as we were seated, “they might think I’m your daughter.”

“So how’d you get John to agree to let you come?” Travis asked after the waitress took our order.

“I didn’t,” I said, fumbling with the napkin in my lap. “Dad forbade me to come. Well… I didn’t exactly listen.”

“I always knew you were a rebel,” he chuckled, leaning back in his seat.

I tried to focus on my food, but the nerves kept me from enjoying it. Not that I’d ordered much in the first place. Between the nerves and the long ride, I knew I shouldn’t eat too much.

I reached for the check, but Travis grabbed it first. “I’ll consider this an investment.”

“An investment? If I knew you were paying, I would’ve ordered more than fruit and oatmeal,” I teased, letting him be the gentleman. Even though I knew that wasn’t exactly in his nature.

The arena was already booming when I arrived. The air vibrated with excitement, and I took a few deep breaths, trying to steady my nerves. I couldn’t be any more ready than I was. Years of riding and practicing had led me here. This was the big leagues.

I led my barrel horse, Belle, into the waiting area. Denim had grace; Belle had speed. I ran my hands down her chestnut flanks, checking the straps and making sure everything was perfect. I was riding 6th, midway down the list, but my heart pounded like it had nowhere else to go.

Climbing onto Belle, I could feel the adrenaline coursing through me. We shot through the gates with speed and precision, rounding the barrels close and fast. My heart still thumped loudly as they called my time—16.74 seconds. The fastest so far, but there were still fifteen girls behind me.

The quiet hum of the bar felt a world away from the roar of the arena. I took another sip from my bottle, the cool water a stark contrast to the heat of the competition. On the TV screen above, two girls had beaten my time. One knocked over a barrel, though, earning a penalty, and I barely squeezed into second place. My nerves had gotten the best of me on the roping course too.

I leaned back in my chair, letting out a slow breath. I wondered if the boys in the bunkhouse were watching me on their TV, cheering me on. Or if my father had caught my run. Would he even acknowledge it? Would he ever see me as more than just a girl who defied his wishes to chase a dream he didn’t approve of?

The cool air of the arena felt electric as I approached the final round. Changing into my flashy pink form-fitting trick-riding costume, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of all my preparation behind me. The costume wasn’t just for show—it was a part of my armor. The glittery ‘Y’ painted on Denim’s rear wasn’t just for flair, though. It was my tribute to Yellowstone, a symbol of where I came from, and the very thing that pushed me to this moment.

Denim stood tall, his muscles rippling beneath the glittery design. I patted him gently, calming the both of us, my heart syncing with the rhythm of his breathing. I slid into the saddle and tightened my grip, ready for the performance of a lifetime.

Travis’s nod was all I needed. He swung open the gate, and the world outside seemed to shrink as I rode into the arena. The booming crowd fell silent in my mind, replaced by the thumping beat of McBride and the Ride’s "Trick Rider" playing through the speakers. It was my soundtrack.

I was in the zone now. I flipped, swung, and held my balance effortlessly, each trick smooth and precise. The routine felt like a blur of practiced perfection—each move instinctive and natural. I lost myself in the rhythm, the adrenaline coursing through me. The seconds felt like hours, but then, just as quickly, the four minutes were over, and I dismounted with a flourish.

The crowd erupted. The cheers rang in my ears, and the flood of emotion came crashing down like a wave. I had done it. I had outperformed everyone in level 4 tricks, and I’d won. After all the sweat, tears, and sacrifices I’d made, this was my moment. And it felt sweeter than anything I had ever imagined.