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starsofang · 7 months ago

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Finish Line

Street Racer!AU / Part 1

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

Summary: Returning to the racing world in a new city proves to be futile when one of the racers has it out for you. He's determined to take you down, and you're determined to win.

TW: will be added for future parts, reader has a biker name but does not have a referenced name otherwise

A/N: if you’ve seen blade runner or cyberpunk, those were the vibes i’m going for. but basically all street racer!141 are in this, pray for me <3

The radiant glow of luminescent neons flooded your vision as you lifted yourself off of the bike you’d ridden into town, casting arrays of purples and blue along the span of your skin, reflecting blinding shimmers off of the glossy shine of your bike.

The city was boisterous around you. The streets filled with a variety of people covered in racing gear or alternative twists in their style. All sorts of glitzy colors adorning their bodies, mirroring the image of the neon city and blending them in. Crazy was the best word to describe it. Hectic, maddening hysteria that littered the city like a plague.

You stood in the midst of it all, taking in the booming voices that carried through the air of excited participants in the race that was soon to begin. It was a frenzy even being in the city, and you found yourself sticking to the side of your bike and opting to watch instead of join. After all, you knew nobody, and this was your first race – at least, your first one in a long time, and in a new city on top of that.

You’d never been in a place so lively before, and perhaps that was the appeal to it all. People were excited. They treated street racing like a sport rather than the crime it was. Illegal, unhinged, dangerous.

It was the most life-threatening sport one could get into, and you were one of those unfortunate souls who had a knack for speed.

“Takin’ it all in?” An unfamiliar voice geared its way towards you through the chaos, and when you looked over, you saw an older man with kind eyes and a heavy-set beard. Upon further inspection, you noticed his left leg was purely robotic, all metal and fancy tech, a neon outline tracing along the ridges and curves.

“It’s a lot,” you breathed in response, earning a hum of acknowledgement from the mystery man.

“Sure is,” he agreed, though his wide smile and twinkling eyes made it seem as if he preferred it that way. “You racin’ tonight, doll?”

You glanced over at your bike from beside you. Purple, matching the fluorescent city, and fast as hell when you knew how to control it. “I am. First race in a while. Are you?”

The man chuckled lowly, shaking his head. He tapped his knuckles against the cool metal of his leg, giving you a cheeky smile that poked through the fur on his face. “Can’t race with a leg like this. People might think I’m cheatin’.”

The tone of his voice was teasing, and it brought your own laugh out. “I wouldn’t say it’s cheating. Maybe just a bit of modification, is all.”

He laughed again, and the sound of it eased the original tension that consumed you from the sight of a new crowd in a new city. “I like the way you think, doll. I’m John. John Price.”

Your eyebrows raised at the name, and you stared at him with a look of surprise and awe. His hand was outstretched to shake yours, and when you shook off your initial shock, you reached out to grab it.

John Price. Even in other cities unlike this one, like your own, John Price was a name whispered amongst other racers. A true street racer, one that took win after win like it was easy. In his day and time, he was the best of the best, and if you knew he was in your race, it was promised fate that you would lose to him.

Nobody knew what happened to him after he disappeared from the racing crowd, but judging from the robotic leg, you could piece together the picture.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you greeted politely, your hands clasping together to give each other a firm shake before releasing. “Heard a lot about you.”

“Really?” he hummed in amusement, feigning humility. “Didn’t take it that others knew about me in other cities.”

“How’d you know I wasn’t from here?”

“Oh, I can tell, doll. You looked like a poor lamb walkin’ into a wolf’s den, comin’ here,” he teased, and you shifted on your feet in embarrassment. “No need to fret. I’ll introduce you to a couple of the other racers, get you more acquainted.”

You weren’t sure why he would bother to do so. This race was a competition, and getting to know the other racers you were about to go up against wasn’t exactly in your books for the night. He seemed to recognize the muted confusion, though, because he smiled and beckoned you with a hand to follow him.

“It’s good to know who you’re competin’ against,” he explained as you walked alongside him. Your bike handles were between both of your hands, steering it beside you, too uncertain of the new area to trust anybody to leave it be. “Good to learn their tricks so you can use it against them.”

“Why exactly are you telling me this?” you asked, and he chuckled.

“Haven’t had a new racer in a while. Not a promisin’ one, anyway. Forgive me, but I tend to get a bit excited when somebody new joins the races.”

That made sense, you suppose. He didn’t race anymore, so he thrived off of the thrill of every race. If he couldn’t join, he could certainly watch and observe. Price probably knew all of the ins and outs of every street racer without their knowledge.

You followed him down the bustling streets, passing by crowds of colorful people who were nearly bouncing off the walls in anticipation. The looks you got along the way had you uneasy, but most of them were more curious than cruel, taking in the sight of your bike and the flashy, purple protective gear you wore.

Finding yourself at a rundown looking building that was littered with a vivid glow, you entered what appeared to be a garage. It was filled with various other bikes, as well as an insane amount of toolboxes lining the walls with spare parts scattered carelessly.

Propping your bike up with its kickstand, you stood a bit straighter when Price called out to a group of men on the other side of the garage. One was working on a bike, while the other two were lounged lazily on a beat up couch, bickering with one another.

The sound of Price’s voice seemed to send them into immediate submission, and they stood, making their way over to you.

They were… certainly a mixed pack, weren’t they?

The first man you took notice of was decked out in a bright blue that glowed in curvy patterns along his gear. His hair was shaved into a messy mohawk that flopped languidly atop his head, and his smile was crooked and toothy, creasing his eyes into wrinkly crescents.

The second one had a warmth to him, despite the edginess of his gear. It was deep red and meshed well with the tan of his skin, and just like everything else in this city, provided a neon blaze that you swore would cause you to turn blind at some point.

The third one was incredibly off putting. Cold, stiff, and eyes that bore into you like a knife digging in your skin. It was laced over with poison, threatening to invade your veins and taint your bloodstream. His eyes were the only thing you could see, for the rest of his face was covered by a painted balaclava, the mouth of a skull covering his own. Dark and dangerous, a racer you grew wary of when the time came for competing.

“This here is Soap, Gaz, and Ghost. They won’t bite,” Price assured. You highly doubted that.

You gave them a polite nod of your head, and Soap clasped a hand on your shoulder, beaming at you. His smile was nearly as blinding as the rest of the city, and you wondered briefly if it hurt.

“New comer, eh? Ever raced before?” he asked in enthusiastic curiosity.

“Yeah,” you replied, and Gaz released a low whistle. When you shifted your eyes to him, he was looking at your bike.

“Looks like you have a new competitor, Ghost,” Gaz teased. Ghost didn’t seem amused by it, his eyes continuing to stare you down in silent disapproval.

“Unlikely,” he rumbled dryly.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked at him. Ghost was already giving you the information to know you needed to steer clear of him, both on the streets and off. He was competitive, and you could practically see it burning through his irises, like a raging fire that you had no way of putting out.

It was unfortunate that you were also just as competitive. You had your reasons for returning to racing, and you’d be damned if a man like Ghost attempted to sway you off track.

“Guess we’ll have to see, Ghost,” you chirped. His eyes narrowed in warning, pupils near black from the way he was scoping you out and silently pulling you apart in the clouds of his mind. Price snorted at the tension, but made no attempt to stop it. After all, he liked friendly fire – though, this wasn’t exactly as friendly as it was fire.

“Right,” Ghost grunted, cocking his head at you. His posture was menacing, and you would be smart to ease off the high horse, but you didn’t falter. “Don’t exactly think I caught your name.”

“Maze,” you offered.

Of course, everybody in the racing world only ever went by their biker name. Everybody’s had meaning, a reasoning for being called that. Maze was a name that was pinned to you without so much as a say, based on how effortlessly you could maneuver your way through tangled webs of roads and corners in the midst of chaotic races.

Ghost was a name unheard of, and surely, there was a baleful reason for it.

“Maze,” Ghost repeated with a tongue full of smoking venom. “I guess we’ll see, then.”

It was a threat if you ever knew one, and from the way the others remained perfectly unphased by it, a normal one at best. This was who he was, his true colors, dark and gloomy in comparison to the bright vivids that painted over the city.

Before you could say much else, a blaring sound filled the air, sharp and deafening. It was a shrill in your ears, lacing your eardrums with discomfort

Price’s hand clapped on your back and he gave you a promising grin.

“Best to ready yourself up, doll. I’m excited to see you work your magic.”

You hauled your bike back out on the crowded streets, where electrifying voices shocked through the air like a vice. It was overwhelming, but nothing you weren’t used to. Races were the heat of most cities, and many people partook in the frenzy of events with dripping exhilaration, gathering together in a heap of hectic mess to place their bets on who would come out as the victor.

Tugging your helmet over your head didn’t do much to quiet down the noise, but it allowed you a blanket of dull security, giving you a chance to breathe. You prepared yourself by lining your bike with the others, and when you really studied your surroundings, there were dozens. Each and every bike was crafted with their own unique design and theme, and the drivers occupying them were just as otherworldly. You felt almost like an ant in a big world of antsy animals.

Your gloved hands gripped the handles of your bike, tight and tense, and you sucked in a long breath before releasing it, allowing your shoulders to relax.

Looking around, you noticed Soap was perched next to you on his own bike. When he took notice of you, he propped up his visor to show off his eyes, and from the way they crinkled, you could only assume he was grinning at you. His hand lifted, propping up his thumb in a weak attempt to wish you good luck.

You gave one back to be a good sport, but you knew once the alarms went off and flags were raised, this would be a warzone. There was no friendly competition, only bloodshed and battle.

Ghost’s bike was settled somewhere in front of you by a couple of lanes, and you took a moment to read his body language.

He was just as stiff as before, his shoulders pulled taut and his hands gripping the handles so tight, you were sure his knuckles were white beneath his gloves. His bike was as black as his attitude, nearly disappearing in the night if not for the bright lights reflecting off of them, and his gear matched perfectly with it. The helmet he wore mirrored the design of his balaclava you saw him in, with delicate, white swirls painted on to the mouth of the plastic and etching up to the top.

When you looked at him, he was already looking at you. Even under his visor, you could feel the intensity of his stare, like a looming shadow threatening to pull you by the ankle and yank you into a world of suffocating darkness.

You stared back until he turned away, noticing the small head shake he did to himself, but not minding it.

Competition. This was a competition. May the best racer win.

The wait for the call was dreadful. It racked your bones with unnerving anticipation, edging you towards the fall of a cliff, threatening to push you over. It was a game, body rigid in impatience, but when the sound of a gunshot fired through the air, it all melted away, replaced with premeditated determination.

Instantly, the sounds of revving bikes and screeching tires filtered through your helmet and bled into your ears. Your own joined in the mix, hand quick to accelerate your bike in motion, surging you forward. It was a rush of adrenaline, like a drug shooting through your bloodstream, and it willed you into a state of starved aggression.

All thoughts that had plagued your mind were brushed aside and replaced with nothing but the thought of winning. The prize money was a wealthy sum, and that alone was enough to have you weaving in between the other racers, leaning your body forward for some extra leverage.

Buildings passed by you like a quick blink, the various colors whipping by like a flash. Your vision was filled with the backs of other racers ahead of you, as well as the neon signs that littered every street corner, holograms of food and pretty women from the diversity in night business becoming your most perceived line of sight.

The other bikers were brutal. It showed in the way they tried cutting you off with a sharp flick of their bike when they noticed you trailing behind them, your front wheel nearly kissing their back wheel. It was an aggressive fight for dominance, and for a brief moment, you feared you were biting off more than you could chew.

This was an entirely new city, one you weren’t accustomed to, and these were new riders. You didn’t know the streets like you did back at home, nor did you know the layout for shortcuts. You didn’t know how to adjust to the neon oasis that filled your sight with blinding lights.

The only thing you knew how to do was fight back. And fight back you would.

When you saw the opportunity to speed past the racer in front of you, a man in an all orange suit, you took it. There was a gap so small you were crazy to try and fit through it, but you curled your hand around the bike handle, revving forward and sliding past him so he was on your tail.

You hoped that if Price was watching somewhere, he was somewhat impressed.

The twists and turns of the streets were difficult to maneuver, but not impossible. It was definitely a fight to control your bike on the sharp corners that required lots of tilting of your own body weight, but once you made it past the first couple, it proved to be much smoother than you thought.

The more the race went on, the more your muscle memory of riding came back to you, and it was a thrilling fun rather than a daunting spiral. It coursed through your veins like a fever, and the adrenaline pumped through you in earnest, causing you to feel alive.

The back and forth of you weaving in and out of open vessels caused you to end up in second place, and the only racer ahead of you was none other than Ghost. Now, other riders, you were confident in defeating, but Ghost was a lovely challenge.

He had a couple of yards on you, and the way he controlled his bike was a near work of art. He was positively beautiful at it, and now you were starting to understand his biker name.

Ghost, because he could disappear in the shadows of the night, never to be seen again. Nobody could catch up to him, because he was a spirit in the night riding on a cloud of shadows and devilry.

Maybe you were biting off more than you could chew, because your hands revved up one more time, your upper body leaning impossibly forward on the curve of your bike, and you were determined. If nobody could catch up to him, then you wanted to be the first.

Swerving through impossibly small streets and side alleys, he was becoming more clear in your view. If you could get just a little closer, you’d be neck and neck. With the promise of a finish line approaching, you’d have to do it soon.

Bit by bit, your bike gained proximity. You were nearly right by his side, and the sheer power of it all had your heart thumping like bombs in your chest. He was there, right there, and your win was hanging by a thin string.

Ghost’s head whipped over to look at you when he heard the sounds of your engine, and whatever expression he wore under the helmet, you wished you could see it.

As if fueled by anger, he gripped his handles a bit tighter. The two of you waltzed in a dance of back and forth, fighting for the title of victor. The street was a straight shot now, and you could see the faint holographic sign that hung above the finish line, indicating the near end of the race. It glowed at you, taunted you, beckoned you towards it like a siren of the sea. It sang pretty songs to you, desperate to grab hold of you and claim it as theirs.

The two of you were tightly bound together the closer you got, so close you could practically feel the heat of carbon as it left his exhaust. It scorched you like a blazing fire, but it only proved to encourage you more.

You fought and fought for dominance. The crowds of people waiting at the finish line were as crazed as madmen, shouting and waving their arms, desperate to see who would win.

Just as the finish line became approachable, Ghost surged a few mere inches in front of you, as if waiting for the opportunity. It was a warzone when the race ended, and you slowed your bike to a stop. Taking off your helmet, you gasped for air that was stolen from you from the pure, intoxicating adrenaline, glancing up at the lit up scoreboard that glitched with a chromatic listing of all places that racers fell into.

You were second, Ghost was first.

You wanted to win, yes. But second place was as good as they came for the first race, and you were elated.

The sounds of people celebrating nearly tuned out the angry sound of boots stomping your way. You hadn’t even had a chance to get off your bike before a hand was grabbing hold of your shoulder, whipping you around to come face to face with Ghost. His balaclava remained, even under the confines of his helmet that was no longer there, and his eyes were bristling with those same flames from before that had shifted into a dangerous blaze.

“The fuck was that?” he spat, words stabbing into you like daggers.

“A competition,” you replied calmly, perhaps a bit too cockily. “Was it not?”

Ghost leered at you, shoulders dropping and rising with the heavy breaths he took. His hand was curled into a fist in the collar of your gear, keeping you in place. It tightened its hold, and he leaned closer to your face, glaring into you.

“You need to fuckin’ watch yourself, Maze.” He spoke your name like a sin, as if announcing the Devil himself. “Pull that shit again and you won’t live to see another race.”

He promptly let go of your collar, shoving you away in the process. You could do nothing but watch as he stormed off, out of sight and out of mind. Like a Ghost.

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sarahsmi13s · 2 years ago

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Rodeo

(not my gif)

pairing: robert ‘bob’ floyd x pilot!reader (call sign: rodeo)

characters: bob floyd, reader, dagger squad, penny benjamin, pete mitchell, some dick named john and his friends (who aren’t necessarily dicks)

warnings: fluffy bob, bob in a cowboy hat, fighting, drinking (of age), suggestive, i believe that’s it

word count: ~2.2k

a/n: this came in second place, but i love it just the same. and i’m very close to writing a part 2 for this ;)

quick summary: when your relationship with bob is reveal to the squad, hangman can’t help but wait for bob to stake his claim on you.

*************

You sat in the Hard Deck, nursing your beer and playing pool with Phoenix when the bell chimed.

You glanced up and saw the Texan himself walk in, hat on and everything.

“Hangman, what the hell are you wearing?” Phoenix asked, leaning on her cue. You looked him up and down, chuckling when you heard his response, “I wear this all the time.” His accent had gotten thicker after visiting his family.

You had all just visited your families for Christmas. It was only two weeks but it had given you all plenty of time to slip back into your old accents.

“Nice buckle, Bagman,” Rooster commented, obviously teasing the fact that the buckle looked like it weighed down the front of his pants.

Jake puffed out his chest, a smile gracing his features, “Thank ya, Chicken. Thought I’d bring it back with me, I ain’t worn one in a while.” Rooster sipped his beer, “You get it at Bass Pro or something?” Jake’s face fell and you couldn’t help but laugh. “You did not jus’ ask me that.”

You glanced at it, looking at the details.

“You rode?” Hangman turned to you, his smile returning, “Yeah, best there was.” You hummed, sipping your beer before sitting it down to line up your shot, “What made you quit?” “I wanted somethin’ different for myself. My older brother rode, my dad rode. I did it for the adrenaline, so I thought maybe I could get my high while doin’ somethin’ that had more meaning.”

Before you could retort, Jake had looked at Bob.

“Since when do you wear hats?” You smiled glancing back at the WSO, who was wearing a reddish-brown felt cowboy hat, before looking back and catching the way his pilot looked at you. “Well, Bagman, you ain’t the only one that grabbed something from home.” Jake nodded in mutual respect before looking back at you.

He took a quick glance down at your belt line, seeing the lights reflect off your own buckle.

“You rode too?” You nodded, taking the final shot of the game, “8-ball far left corner pocket.” You gesture with the cue before taking the winning shot. “That’s game Phee.” Nat rolled her eyes and slipped you a 20.

“So, what was your event?” “Barrel racin’.” “Were you good?” “Best there was,” you winked and sat next to Bob. “How’d you think I gained the name Rodeo?”

Hangman donned his signature smirk, “I could think of a lot of things.” You shoved him, “You’re gross.” “Come on, Ro. That was funny.” Bob shook his head and draped his arm behind you on the booth.

“What made you quit?” Hangman asked as he slipped into the seat across from you. You sighed, “I raced for nearly my whole life. My brother Bryan did too. I could say I got out for the same reason you did, cause it wouldn’t be a lie. But I was always just Bryan's kid sister, or Darrel L/N’s daughter. I made somewhat of a name for myself, but by the time people saw me as me-”

You shrugged, sighing, “I didn’t enjoy it anymore. It became more about the trophies than the experience. So I decided to be the best at somethin’ I was proud of. That could give me a family, like the rodeo used to.”

Jake nodded in understanding, he patted your shoulder before moving on to bother Rooster and Coyote.

Bob sighed and let his arm fall around you and pulled you close to his side. “You didn’t tell me that.” You looked up at him, “Sure I did. Did I not?” He shook his head, “No, and you know I listen to every word you have to say.” You scrunch your nose, “I swear I told you.” He shook his head, “Nope.” You pouted, “Oh, well now you know.” He nodded, “That I do.”

You both smiled and he pressed a kiss to your lips. “Bob-” “I know Y/N, I just-” You cut him off by grabbing his shirt and kissing him again. “I’m tired of hiding it too.”

********

Meanwhile, everyone was watching the two of you.

“I can’t hear a word they’re sayin’,” Hangman said, straining a little to hear you both better. “Dude, when is that gonna go away?” Phoenix asked, in reference to his accent.

“Oh, it’s always there, trust me. It’s normally strong when he's drunk or really pissed,” Coyote confirmed, laughing a little.

“Plus, you never complain about Rodeo’s accent,” Jake commented. “Yeah, but it’s cute on her and gets Bob all flustered.” The group hummed in agreement before turning back to the (no-longer) secret couple in the booth.

They watched Bob kiss you, say a few words before being pulled in again.

“Damn, when will it be my turn?” Omaha asked, shaking his head.

“Bob is so in love with her it isn’t even funny,” Phoenix revealed. “He always talks about her, and they went to see each other's families over our break.” “Really?” Yale asked, crossing his arms.

Phoenix nodded, “He’s been in love with her since the mission in May last year. And I’m sure it’s the same case with her.” Halo nodded, “Yeah, I had to listen to her talk about him all the time. And then Bob would talk to me if you were anywhere within earshot of Y/N. He’s fallen hard, they both have.”

Jake shook his head, his eyes trained on the couple as they talked, “We don’t know how in love he is with her though.”

Everyone just scoffed, “Do you not see how they are looking at each other right now?” Fanboy asked, looking at his fellow WSO and his second best friend. “It’s painfully obvious.”

Jake scoffed, “Cowboys have a special way of tellin’ each other a girl is off limits, other than a ring and a few hickies.” “Which is?” Harvard asked, stepping closer, intrigued.

Hangman glanced around and saw a few guys looking at you, “Okay, when Bob gets up and leaves her alone, one of these guys will try to flirt and Bob is probably gonna see. And being the silent and passive aggressive type-”

“Guys, Bob’s moving,” Payback caught their attention. Everyone shut their mouth and watched how you sat there, a grin on your face as you picked at the label.

Jake narrowed his eyes trying to pick out which guy was gonna make his move.

Coyote hit his arm, “4 o’clock.” Hangman turned his head, seeing a guy high fiving his friends before adjusting his posture and making his way to you.

You didn’t look up when someone sat across from you.

“You weren’t gone very long.” “Well I just got here,” the guy chuckled, and that’s when you looked up.

You glanced around for Bob, but didn’t see him.

“I’m John.” “Rodeo,” you said, leaning back in your seat. “Rodeo?” You laughed, “It’s my call sign. I fly for the Navy.” John tilted his head, “You’re not from around here are you? You sound funny.”

The pilots, who had discreetly moved closer, dropped their jaws. “He did not just say that,” Rooster hushed out. “Oh he totally just did,” Phoenix smirked, waiting for you to lay into the guy.

You just laughed, “You have no idea how to actually talk to a woman do you?” If that hurt John’s feelings, he didn’t let it show, “Oh, I can show just how I talk to women.” He winked, “If you wanna take a ride?” You scoffed, sipping your drink with an arched brow, “Sorry, pal. I’m not interested.” He scoffed, fidgeting in his seat.

The group knew he was getting frustrated and there was no sign of Bob coming back, so they had to prepare to jump in themselves. Especially Hangman.

“Look, John, while I appreciate the offer, I’m already scheduled for a ride.”

Omaha and Yale choked on their drinks. Rooster and Phoenix smirked proudly, both for you and Bob. “I wasn’t expecting that,” Payback said, leaning on the pool table.

“With who? That cowboy that just left you here alone,” John glanced around. “And doesn’t seem to be coming back.” He looked back at you, “Come on. I could show you a better time.” He placed his hand over yours, gripping it.

You sighed, really just wanting him to leave you alone, “John, you are aware of the rules in the bar right?” He scoffed, and tightened his grip when you tried to pull away, “Yeah, don’t leave your phone on the bar. What the hell does that have to do anything?” You glanced up, smirking.

“You missed a few. There’s also a rule against disrespecting the Navy and women,” Bob looked at the tight grip on your open hand, and the tenseness of your shoulders. “And from what I can tell you’re breaking both. I can get Penny’s attention right now, then you have to buy everyone a drink, or you can leave.”

John stood up, being the same height as Bob he could look him in the eye. “And if I don’t.” Bob glanced at you and you shook your head, not wanting him to get into a fight when it wasn’t necessary. “Well-” John punched Bob. “Bob!”

Hangman, Rooster and Coyote immediately jumped into action as you reared back.

“Rodeo,” Maverick had appeared, moving from his seat at the bar while Penny moved to the guy's friends telling them they needed to leave. Maverick had caught your elbow, “He’s not worth it. Help Bob, we’ll take care of him.”

You nodded and moved quickly to help your boyfriend, helping him up and grabbing his hat. “Are you okay?” He nodded, wincing slightly when you brushed your thumb over his busted lip. “That doesn’t look okay.”

He shook his head, adjusting his glasses, “I’m fine, Sweetheart. I’ve dealt with worse.”

As John’s friends dragged him out, calling him a ‘fucking dumbass’ and throwing out ‘I told you so’s, Penny came over with a small ziplock bag of ice.

“Thank you, Pen,” you took it and the damp napkin, pushing Bob to sit on the table. You gently wiped the blood from his lip, “Bobby, I’m sorry. I coulda-” “Stop, don’t do that.” You nodded, “Alright.” He smiled, but it was small so it didn’t irritate the cut.

The group watched. They saw how your tongue poked out in concentration, and Bob’s eyes looking up at you.

“So, Hangman, what’s the thing? How’s he gonna ‘claim his territory’?” Fanboy asked, crossing his arms. “It seems he already has, his eyes are basically hearts,” Payback commented. “That’s exactly why he’s gonna do it.” “Do what?” Rooster asked, propping himself on the table next to Hangman.

“Thanks for coming to my rescue, cowboy,” you said as you pressed the ice to his lip. He hummed, “Of course, Princess.”

He grabbed your wrist gently and moved the ice away from his lip.

“It’s gonna swell.” “I know a way to make it better,” he sat up straight to look at you and kissed you. You giggled and ran your free hand into the hair at the base of his neck.

When he pulled away, he tongued the cut on his lip, “I need a way to show everyone that you're mine. And I’m not allowed to give you visible hickies.” Both of you knew it was too early for marriage, not that it bothered either of you but you knew this wasn’t how Bob would propose.

You smiled against his lips, “I think they know now, Rob.” He adjusted his hat and chuckled. “Now, as much as I love kissing you, this will be sore without ice.” He nodded and let you place the ice back onto his lip.

“You know, I’ve got an idea.” You hummed, “What’s that?”

Jake watched with bated breath as Bob reached up to take his hat off.

Bob placed the felt hat on your head, “There, now everyone knows.” Your eyes brimmed with tears as you looked at him. “Bobby…” “I know we’ve only been together for 8 months but-” You pulled him in for a kiss.

When you pulled away, his glasses were askew and his cheeks were flushed. “I love you too.”

Bob smiled and looked over, seeing Jake smiling and dancing a little. “I think Hangman’s more excited about me giving you my hat than you are.”

You looked over and laughed, “Oh wow…”

“Do that!” The blonde pointed over at you two. “He gave her his hat, so?” Harvard said, sipping his drink. “In the south, that’s like a proposal. It’s like a promise ring,” Jake was still pointing excitedly at the couple. “Wait really?” Phoenix asked.

“Yeah, really,” you confirmed when you and Bob walked over.

Jake rubbed his neck, “Did you-” “See you dance like a teenager that just scored a touchdown? Sure did,” Bob said, ice pack muffling some of the words.

Phoenix smiled sadly at her backseater, “You okay?” He nodded, “I’ve been bucked off a horse and pull g’s everyday, a punch to the face is nothing.”

Hangman couldn’t stop smiling at the two of you.

“Hang? You okay?” He nodded, “Just happy for ya is all.” You smiled and hugged him, “Thanks man.”

When you pulled away, you reached back for Bob’s hand. He grabbed it and intertwined your fingers.

“Now, if y’all will excuse us. I think my scheduled ride has been bumped up. See y’all tomorrow.” You tipped your Bob’s hat and he waved as you pulled him out the door and to his Jeep.

********

thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed!

thank you to those that voted for this story and i will be posting the last one tomorrow. i really appreciate all of you that voted!

if you want more polls for the ‘x reader’s that are just chilling in my docs let me know or if you have any requests for more fics please do so!!

love you guys <33

top gun tags <3: @milesdickpic @luckyladycreator2 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @sebsxphia

thank you guys for being here! i love you *mwah*

#bob x pilot!reader #robert bob floyd #robert floyd x reader #pilot!reader #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fic #bob floyd imagine #top gun imagine #top gun fic #top gun maverick #poll results #fic poll

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bangchansdirty-slut · 11 months ago

Text

An Orgasm A Day Keeps The Cramps Away

Paring: GP!Yunjin x Bottom Reader

Genre: Smut

Summary: Yunjin decides to help you with your cramps during your time of the month.

More: Masterlist

A/n: I wrote this fic because I have just started my period again and my cramps are causing me a lot of pain. I am also considering writing more period-related content, including smut.

Yunjin was in the practice room with Y/n when she saw Y/n was in pain. She immediately stopped what she was doing and approached Y/n with concern written all over her face. "Y/n, what's wrong? You seem to be in pain." Yunjin asked, her voice soft and gentle. Y/n let out a sigh before responding, "Ah, it's just my period. I just started and the cramps are killing me. Nothing seems to help." Yunjin nodded, remembering how painful cramps could be. She decided to do some research to see if there was anything she could do to help Y/n.

As it turned out, orgasms were known to provide relief from menstrual cramps. Eager to help her friend, Yunjin suggested, "Hey, Y/n, have you ever heard of how orgasms can help with cramps? Maybe we could try that?" Y/n's face turned bright red and she stuttered, "Uh, well, I-I've heard about it, but I'm a virgin. I don't really know how to do it."

Yunjin smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, I can help you. It's not as scary as it sounds, and we can do it in a way that's comfortable for you." She moved closer to Y/n and kissed her softly on the lips. "We can start with this." As they continued to make out, Yunjin began to undress Y/n, taking off her shirt and revealing her flat chest.

Y/n glanced down at her own body, feeling self-conscious about her nakedness. "But, um, won't it get messy if we do it here?" she asked, referring to the practice room. Yunjin thought for a moment and then nodded. "You're right. Let's go to our dorm instead. I'm sure we can find a way to make it work." Together, they went to their shared bedroom and entered the bathroom. Yunjin turned on the shower and adjusted the temperature until it was nice and hot. "This should help relax you," she said with a gentle smile.

As Y/n stepped into the steamy shower, Yunjin closed the shower door behind them. She wrapped her arms around Y/n and started kissing her passionately, their tongues tangling together. Y/n moaned softly into the kiss, feeling a heat building up between her legs. Yunjin could tell that Y/n was ready, so she leaned forward and began to kiss and lick along her neck and collarbone.

Y/n gasped and arched her back, her eyes fluttering shut. She could feel Yunjin's hand moving between their bodies, stroking her gently. "Are you sure you want to do this?" Yunjin asked, her voice husky with desire. "I don't want to hurt you." Y/n nodded, her breath coming in short gasps. "Yes, I trust you," she whispered.

With that, Yunjin positioned herself in front of Y/n and slowly guided her hips forward. Their bodies aligned perfectly, and Yunjin felt her own girlhood slide effortlessly inside Y/n's wetness. They groaned in unison as their hips began to move together, their bodies becoming one in the heat of passion. Yunjin's fingers dug into Y/n's hips, urging her to go deeper, harder, faster.

Y/n threw her head back, her long hair falling forward to hide her face from view. She arched her back, meeting Yunjin's thrusts with equal force. The pleasure was intense, overwhelming, but somehow, it felt like it was helping to ease the pain. The cramps that had been wracking her body seemed to fade away as the orgasm began to build inside her.

"Oh, Yunjin!" she cried out, her voice muffled by the sound of their bodies slapping together. "I'm close!" Yunjin's hips quickened, and she leaned forward, nipple brushing against Y/n's. "Cum with me, baby," she whispered, her breath hot against Y/n's ear. And with those words, Y/n's orgasm crashed over her like a wave, washing away the last vestiges of pain and leaving her spent and satisfied.

They clung to each other, their hearts racing, as they tried to catch their breath. Yunjin's chest heaved up and down, and she could feel her own juices still dripping from their entangled bodies. She smiled down at Y/n, who looked up at her with a mixture of surprise and contentment.

"That was amazing," Y/n whispered, her voice barely audible above the sound of the running water. "Thank you." Yunjin leaned down and kissed her softly. "No, thank you. I've never felt anything like that before. You're incredible." They continued to embrace, lost in the afterglow of their shared experience, until the water began to cool and reality slowly crept back in.

With a sigh, Yunjin stepped away from Y/n and turned off the shower. She grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself before wrapping another around Y/n. "Come on," she said, leading Y/n out of the shower and into the bedroom. "Let's get cleaned up and relax." They dried off, got dressed, and climbed into bed, snuggling close together under the soft sheets. Yunjin couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over her as she wrapped her arm around Y/n's waist.

They lay there for a while, just enjoying each other's company in silence. Yunjin could feel the warmth of Y/n's body against hers, and it was oddly comforting. She wondered if this was how it felt to be in love. She couldn't deny that she had been attracted to Y/n from the moment they met, but she never expected to feel this way about her. It was almost overwhelming at times, but in a good way.

As they lay there, Y/n traced idle patterns on Yunjin's arm with her finger. "Thank you for being here for me tonight," she said softly. "I don't know what I would have done without you." Yunjin smiled down at her. "You're my best friend, Y/n. Of course I'm here for you. And I'm glad we could…do this. I hope it helped." Y/n nodded, her cheeks flushing slightly. "It did. More than you'll ever know."

Their eyes met, and for a moment, Yunjin thought she saw something different in Y/n's gaze. Something that went beyond friendship. But before she could say anything, Y/n looked away, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Let's get some sleep, okay?" Yunjin nodded, feeling a pang of disappointment deep in her chest. But she knew that tonight, they had shared something special, and that was enough for now.

They settled into the bed, spooning together, and soon fell into a deep, satisfying sleep. As they drifted off, Yunjin couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over her. It was as if everything that had happened before this moment had been leading up to this night, and for the first time in a long time, she felt truly at ease.

#bangchansdirty-slut #le sserafim #le sserafim x reader #le sserafim smut #le sserafim x reader smut #huh yunjin #huh yunjin x reader #huh yunjin smut #huh yunjin x reader smut #kpop smut #reader smut #period sex

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secretly-larry-daley · 3 days ago

Text

This is for the Cars Christmas Art exchange!

My assignment was for @snazzyidiot1

I hope you enjoy! It’s got a mix of angst and fluff ^^ please enjoy

With a final heave, Lightning rested the last of the firewood into the pit. Wiping his hands on his jeans, Lightning retreats back to his lawn chair. He glances over to Mater, flashing him a grin. “Great night for a bonfire, huh? It’s… been a while.”

Mater laughed. “Ya could say that again, buddy! Shoot, with ya’s racin’ and all. ‘Bout time you took some time to relax.”

Lightning rolled his eyes in response, easing more into his chair. “You know, relaxing is not much of my speed. I live my life in the fast lane. You should know this after…” He stops for a moment. How long had they been friends? It felt like he had just met Mater in the scrap yard merely weeks ago. Embarrassment slowly crept up Lightning’s neck as he blushed pink.

“Did ya forget again?”

“No! No, it’s been uh–”

Lightning quickly looked down to his hands, muttering to himself. “So I came around to Radiator Springs in… what? 2006? So that would be 2024 minus 2006–”

“18 years.”

Lightning blinked. “What?”

“We’ve been friends for 18 years!”

The racer tensed in his seat, scratching the back of his neck. “R-right! 18 years. I, um, knew that.” 18, come on Lightning, you’re better than this.

Mater gave the other man a knowing look, raising his eyebrow. But, he did not press the issue. Why argue on such a lovely night? The two had a lovely fire to enjoy! Instead, leaving the two in a nice moment of silence. The sun had finally set over the horizon, leaving only the bonfire as their only source of light. Crickets hummed quietly as the fire cracked and fizzled. It relaxed Mater; oozing him into his cheaply made chair. Lightning was anything but relaxed.

He quietly fidgeted in his seat, picking at whatever dirt he could find between his nails.

18 years. Wow.

Lightning felt he should’ve remembered that. After all, that seems like an awfully important number. It was one after 17, a lucky number. And it was two counts away from 20. Shoot, had he really been in Radiator Springs for that long? It felt like just yesterday he crashed landed himself here. A washed rookie looking for stardom. Now he… can’t even remember something as basic as how long him and Mater has been friends for.

The racer stole a glance at his best friend. Completely peaceful and out of mind, probably already forgotten what they had just talked about. Lightning wished he could be like that. So care-free that you could just let your worries float away in the wind. It was wreckless, sure, but it must feel much more freeing than whatever Lightning was going through now.

It wasn’t before Mater noticed the racer staring at him.

“Something on y’er mind, bud?”

Immediately, his friend’s voice snapped him out of it. For a moment, he opened his mouth to deny the claim, but any excuse he could think of died in the back of his throat. Ultimately, Lightning sighed. “Am… am I good friend?”

Mater nearly toppled out of his chair; standing quickly to his feet. “What?! Y’er my best bud in the world!”

Lightning rubbed the back of his neck again. “Well, yeah, I know but… I don’t know, I feel like I’m not always the greatest at it.”

“What do ya mean?”

“Think about it Mater,” Lightning started, once more adjusting himself in his seat. He was practically leaning off it at this point. “I have a horrible memory. I can barely remember your birthday half the time! I couldn’t even remember how long we’ve been friends. I feel like I should know that!”

“Well Lightnin-”

It was the racer’s turn to get out of his seat, pacing back and forth in front of their bonfire. “It always feels like I come short with our friendship. Time after time it always feels like you’ve done something for me. Whenever I need you, you’re there. I just…”

Lightning trailed off, looking to his feet. He felt like a guilty child who had gotten himself caught in the cookie jar. Owning up to your own shortcomings wasn’t exactly an easy thing. Let alone admit them to your best friend.

“I want to be good enough.”

The racer didn’t dare look up. Out of shame and…hurt. He’s never admitted this anyone, let alone Mater. He couldn’t even imagine how he’d feel if someone told him any of this. God, he hadn’t met to make this such a mess.

That’s when Lightning felt a sturdy hand upon his shoulder. “Lightning, look at me.”

He did as told; now face to face with Mater. His face held an expression Lightning had been well acquainted with. One out of compassion (with a dash of silliness). Something about it always found a way to put Lightning at ease. Sometimes he wondered if it were magic.

Mater smiled, “Buddy, I– I’m not the best at words, ya know that, but I can tell ya this. I couldn’t even ask for a better friend. We have our moments, sure, yet that never stopped us. We’re still here in Radiator Springs, enjoying this fire here.” He gestured to it, taking a moment to have a tender look at the fumes floating about. “And yeah, you might not have the best memory, but ya make up for it that big heart of yours…and y’er “remember” notes.”

Lightning waved his hand. “Oh come on, I don’t have that many.”

Mater gave him a knowing look. Letting go of Lightning, he moved to his friend’s chair to tip it over. Under the chair revealed a bunch of sticky notes that had “remember the firewood” plastered all over them. Lightning gave Mater a guilty grin. “Well…maybe a couple.”

“Couple,” sure….”

“Ok, ok a lot.”

“Anywho, that ain’t the point,” Mater moved himself back to Lightning. “The point is, even with your quirks, you’re good enough. For me and for the rest of Radiator Springs.”

Lightning opened his mouth again, but he knew a hug would work much better.

18 years… wow.

Hopefully they’ll have 18 more.

#Cars Christmas exchange #pixar cars #cars pixar #lightning mcqueen #tow mater #friendship #writing

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anniesocsandgeneralstore · 1 year ago

Text

here to stay | rhett abbott x oc

Summary: Tessa and Riley go to the rodeo. Rhett invites them to go to the bonfire after. (wc: 7062)

Warnings: possible rodeo inaccuracies (im trying my best), royal abbott makes an appearance, rhett being flirty, flashbacks, alcohol mention, background ocs

✎……PREVIOUS CHAPTER || MASTERLIST || NEXT CHAPTER

The Amelia County Fairgrounds were always busy the night of a rodeo. With not much else to do, residents of Wabang paid five bucks a ticket to come watch cowboys from all over compete for the grand prize in their category — and the chance to move on to the next stage in the season.

As one of the main draws for the town, the rodeo coordinators made sure the place looked nice. Bulb lights strung up around the concessions area and outdoor riding pit. Turned on long before the sun went down and kept that way long after it set. Concessions were always well stocked with the usual fair commodities; deep fried anything and nachos mostly. Any kind of souvenir you could think of was available at what was most likely a jacked-up price. Sweatshirts and stetsons, big belt buckles and necklaces on twine for a bit of Western flair. And of course, they made sure every event was easy for those out-of-towners to find. Pole bending and barrel racing in the barn pavilions on the east side — bull riding and calf roping in the main arena.

The fairgrounds were teeming with life by the time Tessa paid for her ticket and walked inside. A sea of cowboy hats and trucker caps weaving amongst themselves. Getting their popcorn and trying to decide what events to watch. Tessa smiled, taking it all in for a moment. The loud chatter and country music, smells of deep-fried Oreos and leather. It had been so long since she was able to go to a rodeo. Her work schedule was so busy and on her days off she usually had personal chores that needed taking care of.

Not tonight, though. Tonight, she was at the rodeo without a worry in her mind. And it felt relaxing in some way, despite the noise and the energy of the place. A smile overcame her as she weaved her way through the people, toward the funnel cake stand.

She knew without a doubt that she would beat Riley there. No matter what her friend did, she was always late. Didn’t matter the pre-planning or promises to be on time or even early. But she always showed up — even if it was fifteen to twenty minutes late every time. Maybe Tessa would get a funnel cake to occupy her time.

But as she walked, hands shoved in her Carhartt pockets, she bumped into someone. Her shoulder knocked into their arm, throwing off her balance. A hand shot out to steady her.

“Oh, m’sorry!” she apologized immediately, looking up into their face.

It was Royal Abbott. All hard lines and furrowed brows. His goatee beard greyed and hiding a frown. Hat pulled low over his brown eyes that looked down at her now with an expression she couldn’t quite read. She could see Rhett in him clearly, even more so now than when they were in high school. They held that same kind of quiet, that same kind of hardness. For a moment, as she looked up at him wide-eyed, all she could think about was Linda’s story — but then it quickly faded from her mind. Because that’s all it was. A story.

Royal let go of her elbow with a grunt.

“No problem. How’s your dad doin’?” he asked courteously, voice a rough gravel low in his throat.

Tessa was taken aback. She didn’t think he would remember her, much like his son. She also didn’t think he would remember her father’s surgery a few years ago. But then again, the ranchers of cattle and horses alike in Wabang were a tight-knit group. Chatting at feed stores and bars, sitting down over cups of coffee at Odessa’s with hats on the table and dirt under their fingernails. Hard-working men, each and every one.

“He’s like a new man since the knee replacement,” she replied with a small grin.

“Glad t’hear it.” Royal glanced around the rodeo grounds. “You still doin’ any racin’?”

“Nah, I quit after high school.”

“Shame, y’were good.”

Tessa didn’t know how to respond to that. And never did. Everyone in Wabang always said that. That she was good, that she shouldn’t have given it up. But just because she was talented didn’t mean she wanted to do it forever. She had other goals she wanted to achieve. And riding in rodeos every weekend, traveling all the time, would have prevented her from doing the things she really wanted to do. There were more important things than blue ribbons and curving barrels. She didn’t want that to be her life.

“Well, good t’see ya, kid. Tell y’r mom and dad I said hi.” Royal patted her on the shoulder with a closed-lip smile. “Have’a good night.”

“Thanks, you too,” she said.

Then he walked away, towards the trailers where the bull riders liked to hang out before their appointed time slots. Tessa’s heart seemed to skip a beat as she watched him for a moment. Right. Rhett would be here tonight. He might see her this time, give her a wave or even a smile. She wanted to slap herself.

Now that they what? Talked once? Jesus Christ. It was like she was suddenly fourteen again and going weak in the knees at the mere sight of him. She was better than that. Had grown past that. They were adults now. It didn’t matter that he was still cute and it didn’t matter that her stomach was no filled with the flapping of wings. She wouldn’t fall for it again. It hurt too much all those years ago to let it.

Tessa shook her head and got in line for funnel cake.

After tearing through nearly a fourth of the deep-fried fair food, fingers sticky, and lips covered in powdered sugar, Riley finally arrived. Bumping into her friend’s shoulder from behind with a grin. Riley looked as beautiful as ever. No need for makeup that she never wanted to put on anyway. Hair dark and curly, laying on her shoulders softly. She stood nearly a head taller than Tessa, confident with shoulders back and a smirk on her face. They laughed and embraced, Tessa trying not to get funnel cake everywhere as they swayed from side to side and spouted their I missed yous. It really had been too long since they were able to see each other.

“I jus’don’t see why ya recommended this whole book series t’me for her t’not end up with Dara,” Riley said as they headed east towards the barn pavilions.

Tessa held up the funnel cake between them so they could share. “Because it’s good. I like her’n Ali together.”

“It is good — but…Dara could’ve at least stayed!”

“Did ya cry?” Tessa questioned with a small smile.

Riley looked straight ahead, eyes narrowed. “Maybe a little.”

“I was ballin’ m’eyes out after I finished the last one.”

“‘Course you were.” Riley smiled as they passed by the trailers used for hauling bulls. “At three AM?”

“You know it,” Tessa laughed.

And she was about to go on, tell the story of how she sat and stared at the wall for a good ten minutes before she could go on with the book’s epilogue, when she ran directly into a solid chest. Her face smashed into their torso, now empty funnel cake plate clattering to the ground. The liquid heat of embarrassment licked at her cheeks as she stumbled back a bit.

How many people was she going to run into today?

“Sorry! I — sorry, I — I thought y’saw me,” a quiet, low voice rumbled out as a hand grabbed her elbow to steady her.

Tessa knew that voice. Had heard it only a few days before on the front porch of the Boy’s Home. That sting and that thrill ran through her like a dam was just broken — the river rushing down her spine as she looked up into his face. Rhett Abbott’s face. Eyes big and blue, darkened by the fading light. A small smile quirked the corner of his mouth. He wore green plaid and his riding vest, chaps slung low around his hips, and stetson perched on his head. He somehow looked even better like this. In his element. Rough and ready — the dirt kicked up from the pit already clinging to his sweaty face.

How many Abbotts was she going to run into today?

“I-I didn’t. Sorry,” she finally managed to answer, clearing her throat as she looked down at his boots.

Rhett ran his thumb over her bicep before letting go of her arm. “S’alright. How ya doin’?”

Tessa glanced over at Riley. Who stood off to the side looking between the two of them with raised, intrigued brows. She had yet to mention that she talked to Rhett a few days before. That she suddenly remembered her crush and her heartache and just how handsome he still was. That he smiled when he said her name and it made her heart race just like when she was fourteen.

That she felt her heart beating wildly at that very moment as she looked back up at Rhett. No. She wouldn’t act like she did back then. In school when it felt like if anyone even so much as looked at her she wanted to die. Retreating in on herself as self-preservation, taking no risks, staying invisible. Tessa knew intimately the kind of regret that could grow from that seed. They would talk for a few minutes and then move on with their lives. It was just like talking with anyone else.

“Good.” Lifting her head, she smiled — and he blinked at her, his own grin only growing. “Had the day off n’Riley invited me. Should be fun.”

“Good, good…” he trailed off, fingers fidgeting with the frays of his chaps.

“You? How you been?” she asked, remembering her manners.

“Fine, jus’workin’.” Rhett wiped at his mouth, as he shifted his weight. “Um, I’ride in about an hour…If ya wanna watch.”

“‘Course! Wouldn’t wanna miss local boy Rhett Abbott ride,” she laughed and he looked down at his feet. “Just gonna catch a bit’a the barrel racin’. Used to do that in — “

“I know,” Rhett said, something sincere and open in his face. “I — I remember.”

No matter how much she didn’t want to feel it, she couldn’t stop the sweet burn of being remembered in some way from piercing her heart.

“Well, uh — see ya in an hour, I guess.” Tessa grinned, inching away towards Riley so they could start walking away from him and away from the building heat in her chest.

“There’s gonna be a bonfire. After. Out in the east pasture. You — “ He glanced at Riley and blinked hard as if suddenly remembering she was even there. “You guys should come.”

The fire crackled and burned, flames licking at the inky black sky. Smoke rose in ringlets and danced up, up, up to the stars. Ashes landed on her lap — the final resting place of the logs used to fuel the flame. In the darkness just beyond the fire’s light, young people mingled and danced to the portable radio someone had brought. Drinks were passed around. Stories and laughter were shared. And Tessa stared into the flames, unable to look away even though her face felt like it was burning hot.

Really, she just didn’t want to see Rhett Abbott or the girl he had walked off into the woods with.

She knew, deep down somewhere, that there was never any chance. That he would never notice her. Who was she kidding, getting her hopes up? Why would he take any interest in the quiet girl who preferred horses to people and sat alone at bonfires — too afraid her drunk friends would get out of hand for her to even drink? But no matter how much she tried to think logically. About him being none-the-wiser and how she could barely speak two words to him anyway. Her heart still ached. Tears still built in her eyes, smearing the roaring flame into blurred shapes of orange and yellow.

What she wasn’t willing to admit to herself, however, was that she didn’t care that it was Rhett. That it was Olivia Barlow who had taken his hand with a soft giggle and a bit lip smile. That they were probably off in the woods swapping spit or more. It didn’t matter that it was Rhett and it didn’t matter that it was Olivia. It just wasn’t her.

Because really, in her heart of hearts, Tessa just wanted to be wanted.

And that was all.

“We’ll think about it,” Riley answered for them with a closed-mouth smile. “Come on, we’re gonna miss the racin’.”

Then she took Tessa’s elbow and pulled her away. Scooping up the dropped plate as she went. Tessa looked back at Rhett one more time, who had turned to watch them leave — expression unreadable. So much like his father. But his blue eyes shone like gems in the dying light of day.

“The hell was that?” Riley questioned in a harsh whisper, tossing the paper plate into the nearest trash bin.

“I don’know.” Tessa shrugged, funnel cake suddenly wanting to make a reappearance.

“Y’r face is givin’ you away. Y’re all red.”

With a groan, Tessa told her friend the whole story. About the clothing donation and Rhett not remembering her and their small conversation on the porch. How it was nice and she didn’t think much of it besides how pleased her inner fourteen-year-old self felt. And by the time her tale was finished, Tessa going over their parting words, they had entered the barn pavilion where their high school graduation was held. Only now it was filled to the brim with a captive audience, barrels set up on the show floor, and a young girl on a black mare curving around them at high speeds.

“That’s it — so, I’don’know, I’guess we’re friends now?” Tessa felt like she was shouting, struggling to be heard over the crowd as they cheered on the racer. “S’just one conversation.”

Riley took the lead in going up into the stands. They sat down at the end of a row with a good view of the show floor. The black mare and her rider had just finished, the girl waving to the crowd as she trotted off back into the stables. Her smile was small and tight. Tessa looked at the scoreboard, and it made sense. She only ever smiled like that when she didn’t do as well as she wanted, too.

“Up next, Addie Zoglmann from Deadwood, South Dakota!” the announcer spoke over the crackling speaker.

“Well, he clearly doesn’t wanna be jus’friends with ya,” Riley said, eyes focused on the barrels getting reset for the next rider.

“What?” Tessa blinked owlishly at her.

“Oh, com’on, Tess, seriously? Could literally see the hearts’n his eyes.”

“We talked once!”

“Yeah, n’ he finally realized y’re beautiful n’ kind n’ smart an’ve been here the whole time.”

Heat pooled in Tessa’s cheeks at the compliments, barely believing them. “Shut up. Y’ve been readin’ too many romance books.”

“At the very least he wants in y’r pants,” she muttered.

“Riley, oh, my God! He does not!”

“He does too. Could see it clear as day. ‘Cause, ya know, I had’a front row seat t’that — “ She gestured in front of herself. “Whole interaction.”

The heat only grew, spilling down her neck as she hid her face in her hands. The announcer called the next rider’s number and she blasted out of the chute, hunched low over her horse’s neck and spurring her on even faster. Rounding the first barrel with ease.

“Was it really that bad?” Tessa finally mumbled quietly through her fingers.

“S’like a fuckin’ train wreck. Couldn’t stop watchin’.”

“Oh, God.”

“And Jesus Christ, too,” Riley added.

They both laughed, Tessa drawing her hands away from her face. She didn’t know if she fully believed what Riley said. That Rhett looked…Interested in her. To her, it just felt like a slightly awkward conversation between acquaintances. Not even friends.

Did she want him to be interested? Did she want him to look at her with hearts in his eyes and like he wanted to get in her pants? If anything, it was most likely the latter. She knew about his reputation. Mostly from the rumors that Laney liked to gossip about. The buckle bunnies and the drinking. But Tessa knew to take any story that Laney brought up with a grain of salt. Or a lot of salt really. The grapevine in Wabang did wonders or criminal offenses to a person’s reputation. And sure, maybe he did sleep around and maybe he did drink a little too much, but she could see good in him. Something quiet but earnest. So different from the boy she was infatuated with in high school. Now he was a man she barely knew and had spoken with twice. How could she possibly know if she would want his attention?

But the attention he had given her so far felt nice. Felt like she was special. An anomaly he couldn’t quite figure out but was determined to do so. It felt something like being wanted.

What she still so desperately craved. Even after all these years, even after so much growth. She still looked at her sister’s relationship with a pang of envy. She still looked at her coworker, alone and bitter, and feared it was her fate.

She still yearned to be wanted — and to want in return.

A few more riders shot across the show floor. An impressive display of power and speed as they turned sharply around the barrels, trying to do it faster than everyone before them. The energy of the pavilion, the crowd, the event on the floor — it was electric. Everyone cheered loudest for the local girls. All of whom Tessa knew, some even from her days on the rodeo team. Screaming their names and stamping their feet on the metal stands.

But Tessa and Riley couldn’t stay to watch first place get her ribbon. Addie Zoglmann from South Dakota. They had to start making their way over to the main, outdoor arena in order to catch Rhett Abbott’s ride. She said she wasn’t going to miss it. And Tessa liked to keep her word.

“You think we should go t’the bonfire?” Tessa questioned as they walked, paying extra-close attention so she wouldn’t run into anyone else.

“I don’know. Wadda you wanna do?” Riley asked back as she popped a piece of gum in her mouth.

“Not make a decision right now.” Her answer was honest, delivered with a sighing laugh that made her friend affectionately roll her dark eyes.

“Yeah, alright.” Riley added another piece of gum to her mouth. “We’ll go f’r a minute, check it out, at least. Please y’r lil’ lover boy.”

Tessa made a face. “Ugh, don’call him my lover boy.”

“Jus’ callin’ it as I see it,” she laughed.

“Yeah, well, he’s not so…” Tessa trailed off, looking south to the riding pit and the rodeo clowns herding the bull back into the pen.

It was just a joke. Tessa knew that. But it didn’t stop something from aching deep in her chest.

“But he could be,” Riley pointed out gently, “If ya’d jus’loosen up and stop thinkin’ so negative about y’rself.”

That was another thing about Riley Lopez. She always told the people she cared about the truth. Even if they didn’t want to hear it. Tessa glared up at her, though there was no real bite behind it, as they ascended the stairs up into the stands. Riley only grinned down at her before taking the lead to find them a seat.

“Alright folks, here’s number three-one-six — Rhett Abbott — on Bones!” the announcer called.

Tessa and Riley stood up as they cheered, along with a few others in the crowd. Including Rhett’s family. His mom and dad, his older brother Perry and his wife, Tessa couldn’t remember her name, and their daughter. A little blonde girl Tessa saw getting picked up from school from time to time when she was there to get one of the boys. They cheered for Rhett loudly with thunderous claps. That little girl screaming loudest of all for her uncle. It made Tessa smile.

The gate burst open as the timer buzzed its starting and the bull jumped into the riding pit. Dust went flying into the air as the great hooves stomped into the earth. The Abbott family continued to cheer and encourage. Tessa waited on bated breath. She always hated watching the bull riding. During one high school rodeo, some poor Nebraska boy got his chest stomped in. She could still hear the collective gasp, the crunching of bone, the parents’ screams. The boy lived, with a metal plate in his chest and a hobble for the rest of his life, but the memory wasn’t something that Tessa could shake herself of easily. Saw it flash before her eyes even then as the bull groaned furiously and did everything it could to shake Rhett off. But he was glued to the bull’s back with his hand raised high above his head. Rocking with each movement, with each spin. His face turned down, focused on the bull's neck.

But it wasn’t enough. With only five seconds on the clock, Rhett was thrown from the bull. Tumbling off the back and landing on his spine with a great cloud of dust.

“Yikes, bet that hurt,” Riley muttered.

Tessa didn’t reply. Too focused on Rhett still laying in the dirt. His hat had been thrown off. Laid several feet away from him as he stared up at the sky. No doubt the wind had been knocked out of him. His lungs struggling from the shock. Bones had already stamped away and was now being herded back into the chute for Rhett’s second ride. Then he slammed his fist into the ground — frustrated — and he sat up. The crowd cheered quietly at the fact he was alright. He rose to his feet and nodded at the crowd with a closed-mouth smile, something similar to the one Tessa would give when she knew she didn’t do well, then picked up his hat.

“Nothin’ he’s not used to, I’guess,” Tessa sighed, feeling like her heart was trying to beat right out of her chest.

They sat back down as the next rider was announced. Rhett wouldn’t go again until the other ten riders before him had gone. Out of the corner of her eye, Tessa saw Royal Abbott heading down from the stands and towards the pen where the bull riders were held in waiting.

So far, Rhett wasn’t even on the leaderboard. And Tessa remembered all too well that, despite his father’s encouragement and applause, his boy was never doing enough.

She walked proudly through the rodeo grounds with that first-place ribbon pinned to her shirt. It was big and blue and glossy, shining underneath the lights. She was just glad her whole family could make it to this one. Even Rachel got to see her ride, though she seemed a little less than impressed and could really only comment on how dirty her pants had gotten.

The grounds were quiet, the animals all rounded up and put in their trailers for the drive home, and only a few other contestants milled around. But she forgot her bag in the stables again, and she didn’t want to leave everyone waiting. Shiloh had a baby on her hip after all, one that was downright exhausted and whiney.

Passing by the riding pit on her way, she saw Rhett Abbott standing at the metal fence with his head down — hands shoved into his jean pockets like he was trying to hide as much of himself as possible. And from the way his father was looming over him, she could understand why. Royal had his hat in his hand, gesturing out into the riding pit and talking in a low quiet voice. Worse than getting yelled at. Getting talked to.

Rhett glanced at her as she walked past. A red ribbon stood out in stark contrast to his black riding vest. She only caught a fragment of what Royal was saying.

“Are ya even takin’ this seriously? By the time I was y’r age I was placin’ first every time…”

Disappointment disguised as encouragement. Harsh words spoken by a well-intended father.

Tessa kept on walking.

Bones was back in the chute and Rhett was slowly lowering himself onto his wide back. The bull screamed and jerked within the metal bars. Rhett slipped his gloved hand around the handle, wrapped the rope tight around his knuckles and pounded his hand into a fist around it all. A tight grip, sealing him to the bull completely. Tessa and Riley got back to their feet.

“Rhett Abbott, number three-one-six, with his second ride of the evening.”

The timer buzzed and the gate flung open just as the bull leaped into the air. Bones spun in circles, kicking his back legs, tilting himself nearly vertically to try and get Rhett off. And for a moment, hand clutching at Riley’s jacket sleeve, she thought it was enough. That he was going to stay on just long enough and get onto the leaderboard.

At seven seconds, however, Rhett fell. Caught himself on his right wrist as Bones stamped dangerously close to his head. Tessa gasped. That was so close. Billy from Nebraska all over again only ten times worse.

“That sucks. Wh’t’s that mean, Tess?” Riley questioned as she sat back down.

But Tessa waited until Rhett got back to his feet. Until he was being herded away by the rodeo guys, shaking out his wrist. He didn’t smile at the crowd. Kept his head down and the brim of his stetson covering his face.

Only then did she sit back down on the cold metal stands. “Means his season’s over. He’s not advancin’.”

“Oh, that really sucks.”

“Yeah. I’does.”

Rhett hiked his leg over the metal fence and swung over to the other side. He didn’t walk back to the holding pen. Instead, he headed straight for the medical tent. Not giving anyone a second glance.

The pasture east just beyond the Amelia County Fairgrounds was a dark sea of freshly cut forage. Cast in shades of blue by the moon hung waxing high in the sky. The stars bright and bountiful, like an audience gathered to watch the show going ever on and on upon the earth so far below.

All was quiet now that the rodeo was over. The hanging bulb lights had been turned off and the animals were all asleep in their pens, waiting to be transported home. Only a few vehicles remained in the lot. Scattered about the edges. The show was winding down.

Until a bright orange light sparked to life in the east pasture. Warm and intriguing. Just beyond the windrows and back by the edge of the forest. A whoop and a holler echoed through the empty blue as the light expanded. Illuminating all the cars and trucks that had driven through the field to get close.

Soon enough, music kicked up with a round of applause. Luke Bryan and Kenny Chesney — stuff good for dancing close and singing along to while drinking too much.

A classic Dirty Bang Bonfire was starting up. The stars settled in for the show — shown just that bit brighter in the infinite Wyoming sky. This was going to be fun.

Tessa couldn’t help but have dissimilar thoughts as she got out of her car and approached the already roaring flames. Stuck close to Riley’s side, who seemed calm and self-assured, Tessa wished she felt the same. Instead, her insides rolled with nerves and her palms accumulated a layer of sweat she kept having to wipe off. Parties like this were never her style.

“Maybe we shouldn’t’ve come,” she spoke quietly as they hovered on the edge of the gathering.

She knew every face cast in orange light. All of them people they went to high school with and had stuck around their little town. Talking in their little groups with drinks in hand. Groups that didn’t intermingle with theirs in high school. It just seemed like everyone had their place. Everyone knew where they fit — except for Tessa and Riley.

Except Tessa in truth. Riley was good in a crowd. Always had been. While Tessa stayed glued to the background. Set decoration. Preferring to observe rather than participate out of fear. Fear of what she wasn’t quite sure of anymore. Did she really care all that much about what these people thought of her anymore? She supposed she didn’t. But old habits died hard it seemed as her heart pounded in her chest at the thought of just mere mingling.

“Just a few minutes,” Riley said with a shrug, hands shoved in her jacket pockets. “We’ll grab’a drink from one’a the coolers layin’ around. Talk some shit. Then we’ll leave. Easy.”

“Easy,” Tessa hummed in reply as she looked around.

The Tillersons were there. All grouped up by the fire with a girl under each of their arms. They were all laughing about some story that Billy was telling. Everyone except the girl with Trevor, who just looked uncomfortable. And Tessa couldn’t blame her. A shiver, sharp as ice, went down her spine at the thought of being under that arm. Of remembering what that felt like. Being so important but so worthless at the same time.

Shania Lovegrove was there. She was pregnant again, sipping what Tessa really hoped was a juice. Her fourth at twenty-three with her third baby daddy. Tessa understood why her parents spoke so sadly about her now. She hoped that those kids were okay.

Walker Browning was sitting on the tailgate of his truck, beer in hand. Laney nowhere in sight. Right. They broke up again recently. Some squabble about when they were finally going to get married. Laney wanted it now. Walker wanted it in a few years. But Tessa and really everyone else in town knew that it was inevitable they would get back together. Again. It was a never-ending cycle with those two.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Riley’s lips stretch into a smile, her dark eyes focused on something over Tessa’s shoulder. Tessa opened her mouth to question such a wicked grin, but then Riley took hold of her shoulder and turned her to face the other direction.

Rhett Abbott was approaching them. He was no longer wearing his riding vest or chaps, but a brace now adorned his right wrist. A big silver buckle shown in the firelight at the top of his jeans. His smile was small and shy as he walked up to her, face still ruddy and dirty from his ride.

“You see me this time?” he joked quietly as he came to a stop in front of her.

She laughed, genuine, with her hands in her pockets. “Yeah, I do. Promise I’won’t slam inta’ya this time, either.”

“Okay,” he chuckled lightly, then he gestured in the direction he came from. “Wanna drink?”

“Yeah, we — “

Tessa looked behind her to loop Riley in, only Riley was nowhere to be found. Her heart dropped into her stomach. Of course. Time alone with her lover boy. With the hearts in his eyes, just now noticing her. Tessa really had been hoping, if they were to run into each other at the bonfire, that Riley could act as a buffer. An escape plan. But there she was. Alone with Rhett Abbott of all people. Who only a few days ago didn’t even know she was still in town. Who forgot her first name. That still left a sting, something sharp and bitter on her tongue. Something clarifying.

She turned back to Rhett with a closed mouth smile. Her cheeks burning and praying he wouldn’t notice.

“A drink sounds nice.”

They both turned and started walking together at the very edge of the bonfire’s light.

“How was uh — how’s the barrel racin’?” he asked.

“I’s’fun! Haven’t gotten’ta watch any racin’ in a long time, so…” she trailed off and smiled up at him.

Rhett smirked back for a second then looked away, down at the ground. “Ya miss it?”

“Sometimes,” she replied, “But anytime I get a hankerin’ I jus’run a demo at my parent’s ranch.”

“Get all those tourists gawkin’ at ya,” he chuckled.

“I mean, little girls starin’ at me like m’Wonder Woman or somethin’ is pretty good f’r my ego,” she said with a joking lilt and they both laughed.

His hand brushed against her arm and she tried not to notice.

In the back of some dirty blue GMC was a case of Heinekens. Rhett took one out of the case and opened it on the tailgate, handing it to her with foam still running down the side. He took out another and opened it for himself. Taking a long pull of it as she licked the neck of her bottle clean. Beer was never her drink of choice, but there were no other options. The alcohol may just give her enough confidence to stay with Rhett. Not sprint back to her safe space at Riley’s side — or in her car headed home.

She could do this. They were just…friends.

Right?

“Glad ya got t’see somethin’ good,” Rhett spoke around the lip of his beer before taking another sip, he was nearly halfway done already. “Before seein’ me ride like shit.”

“Hey, don’t talk like that. Bones hasn’t been good ridin’ n’years. Y’got screwed over.” Tessa hid her grin by taking a drink of her beer as he narrowed his eyes unbelievingly at her, smile ticking up the corner of his mouth. “I don’know — that’s just what the old guy behind me’s sayin’.”

He laughed with a shake of his head — and a foreign sense of pride filled up her chest, like a balloon with air, at getting him to do so. His laugh was soft, quiet. Like most of it got lost in him on its way out. He tried to hide that accompanying smile that showed all his teeth by ducking his head. But she saw it. And it was beautiful on him. Lit up his whole face from something unreadable and stoic to sincerity and joy.

Tessa liked it on him better than anything she’d seen.

“But seriously,” she went on, taking another sip of her beer and leaning her side against the tailgate of the blue truck. “You were good’n high school and y’r standin’s the last few years’ve always been great. Y’re better than that.”

There was a certain glint in his eye as he gazed down at her. “You kept up with m’standin’s?”

“Sometimes,” she mumbled, a heat in her cheeks at him catching on to a part of herself she didn’t mean to reveal.

He was the local boy, a legacy — son of a Wabang bull rider. Sometimes, it was her father or Slick sitting around the kitchen table asking about him and how he had been riding recently. Other times, it was of her own volition. Sitting in the dim light of her room at the Boy’s Home, just wondering. Just curious. She didn’t care much for bull riding. But maybe somewhere deep down, even after all these years, she still cared a little too much about Rhett Abbott.

A great gust of wind blew through the pasture, carrying the windrows in its ghostly hands. It sent a chill through Tessa, the cold beer in her grip only making it worse. Rhett perked up from where he had been leaning against the tailgate.

“Shit, c’m’on — “ He reached out for her and she took a step closer. “Le’s get ya over t’the fire.”

She switched her beer to the other hand. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

His left hand ghosted over her spine as she fell into step beside him. Fingers long and spread wide on her lower back, they walked closer to the bonfire. She was sure she imagined it, but his skin felt warm, even through her clothes. As if he would leave a handprint through the layers. His touch, light as it was and heavy as it felt, kindled something hot deep in her belly. Like the first sparks forged by flint to dry leaves. It urged her to walk closer to his side — and he let her in willingly.

“How — How’s the wrist?” she asked, needing something to fill the spaces between, as she nodded her head towards his braced hand.

He lifted his beer with that hand, almost like he forgot it was hurt at all. “S’fine. ‘Ve’had worse.”

“Like what?”

There were more people around the bonfire. Some were even dancing to music playing from somebody’s truck. But it was certainly warmer closer to the golden flames. Rhett dropped his hand, shoved it in his jeans pocket, once they were near enough. But she still felt his fingers burning at her skin.

“Uh, got bucked off inta the fence couple years’go — Montana,” he said, “Took’a post right t’the face.”

Tessa hissed through her teeth. “Ouch.”

“Y’can still feel where m’cheek got broken,” he chuckled, took a sip of his beer — nearly empty.

“Really?” she questioned, cocking her head to one side with a smile.

“Yeah, here — “

Rhett took her hand and brought it up to his face. That warm pit in her belly only grew, the leaves finally catching flame. His skin was warm. The flesh of his palm calloused and rough. His hand engulfed her own, eclipsed it like the sun to the moon. Tessa knew she was short, always had been, but never before had she felt so small as she did then. With her fingers pressed into Rhett’s cheek, his thumb to her palm, and his eyes trained on the ground as he blindly searched for something.

Then her fingers caught on it, a slight dip in his left cheek where the bone healed back together — up by his eye socket. His blue eyes slid up to look into her face expectantly.

“Feel that?” he asked.

“Uh-huh,” she replied, running her finger over the dent again. “Ya must’ve been a sight.”

“Eye swelled shut for a week,” he chuckled.

He pulled her fingers away from his face, but didn’t let go. Did she want him to? Using that hand, that feather-light hold on her she could so easily slip out of, he tugged her closer. The corner of his mouth was ticked up in a smirk, his cheeks slightly flushed. She couldn’t tell if that was from the alcohol, the adrenaline, or her. Did she want it to be her? When they were nearly chest to chest, he released her. Lifted his long, thick fingers to her chest.

Her heart was pounding. Beating like a drum in her ears as her breathing picked up. Rhett reached for her necklace, an antique locket passed down by her grandmother, and adjusted the way the pendant lay on her crewneck. She swallowed something thick as his fingertips traced up the chain.

She could feel his breath against her ear as he leaned in and muttered, “D’you wanna go f’r’a walk?”

Leaning back, fingers still lazily drifting around her necklace, thumbing at the pendant again, he flicked his eyes over to the woods just beyond the light of the bonfire.

She knew what that meant.

Alone. Secluded. Pushing her up against a tree somewhere in the dark. His lips on hers and hands touching everywhere. Just like Olivia Barlow. It was everything she wanted when she was fifteen. He wanted her. Looked down at her now with blue eyes so soft and wondering, mouth ticked up in some smirk only slightly cocky. He pulled in closer to her, towered over her, made it feel like he was the only other person there. The music was drowned out by the rushing sound in her ears. The pit in her stomach burst into flames, roaring and all-consuming as she felt the heat coming off of Rhett’s body. So close. So wanting.

He wanted her. She wanted him back. With his laugh so soft and busted cheekbone and open sincerity. And wasn’t that everything she desired? To want and be wanted in return?

But there was this fear. Creeping in with freezing winds to snuff out the flames.

Because what if he just wanted to use her to get off — a convenient body he hadn’t used before? What if he didn’t want anything more once they were done and he was satisfied? She didn’t want to be just another notch in Rhett Abbott’s bedpost. She didn’t want a one-time thing. She wanted to be wanted completely. Every day.

And right now, with Rhett, it didn’t feel complete. It felt fleeting, in the moment. That he would forget come morning and never talk to her again.

Tessa couldn’t risk her own heart — knowing that sorrow was inevitable.

So she took a step back.

Rhett’s eyes widened, his smile fading, as he withdrew his hand. Then his brow furrowed low, confusion evident.

“M’sorry, but, I — I gotta head on home,” she spoke quietly.

“Why?” he asked, arms now limp at his sides, shoulders hunched.

She bit her lip, fighting every urge to just turn around and walk away. “Early day tomorrow — back at work, so…”

“D’you…Wan’me t’walk ya t’y’re car?”

“No,” she responded quickly, then sighed, wringing the still half-full bottle of beer in her hands. “No, m’fine. Thanks.”

“‘Kay.” He gulped down the last of his Heineken.

“See ya around, Rhett.”

“Yeah, see ya.”

Her eyes stung with unshed tears as she turned and walked away from him. Away from the warm glow of the bonfire and towards her car. The warmth in her belly had been put out. Replaced with some nauseating weight.

Once at her car, she texted Riley she was leaving and poured out the rest of the beer she was still holding. Tossing the bottle into her front seat.

Turns out, she may just end up alone and bitter forever. She couldn’t just loosen up and stop thinking so negatively — about everything. Including Rhett, including herself. A tragedy, creator of her own downfall.

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