Bellamy Blake Imagines

Princess Of The Ground

You breathed in the familiar smell of dirt mixed in with gasoline. The sound of distant, buzzing dirt bikes and loud revs made the adrenaline rush through your veins. It was motocross season and it was your time to dominate the track once again.

Arriving to the circuit with your motorbike in tow, locals waved and asked if you were ready to win the championship in passing. You simply laughed at the question and waved back to them politely.

" Are you ready to win, Y/N? " Kane asked, pushing your bike by the handlebars to the designated pit spot. You thought for a moment before turning to your father and shrugging.

" Definitely, hopefully there'll be actual competition this year. " you said, a smug smirk curving your lips. You looked up to the sky, not one cloud in the vast sky. Conditions were perfect. You were going to be the one to take the competition by storm.

" Possibly, Y/N. I heard there's a new competitor coming from Arkadia. I think he might've been in the championship out there. You know, the one you crashed out of. " Kane said, exerting a deep grunt as he lift your dirt bike onto a bike stool. He swiped some stray dirt off the seat before looking to you. You rolled your eyes in annoyance and glanced to the other riders, preparing themselves for what's to come.

" Ugh, don't even remind me about that race. I'm winning this one for sure, dad. Anyway, it's about time, I was getting bored of beating Murphy all the time. " you said, earning a chuckle out of your dad. Murphy moved to your town two years ago and the first time you met him was in the pits, since he was a neighbor to you and your father. You can recall the first conversation you both had.

" Ready to eat my dust, dirt princess? " Murphy spoke up from the side, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were ablaze with a passionate fire. He seemed so sure of himself. Yet, you had no clue who this guy was and all you were doing was casually waiting for the next race to begin.

" Dirt princess, huh? Well, peasant, get ready to kiss my fine, royal ass on the track. " you sassed back, making eye contact that could spark a fire out of thin air. You were determined to win and show this loser who was boss of the ground.

Thirty minutes later, you're in your lineup on the track, every racer anxious to pull the throttle. As soon as that light turned green, you were in your element. Pure instinct took control. It was just you, your bike, and the dirt sailing underneath. You blew the competition out by a landslide.

" You just got lucky, dirt princess! I'll get you next time. " Murphy shouted, holding onto the helmet tightly in his right hand, and quickly rubbing his nose with the other.

" Yeah, yeah, peasant. You had a good time lookin' at my ass from third, don't deny it, " you said, giving Murphy a sultry wink before extending your hand out to shake his. Murphy didn't hesitate to shake your hand firmly, a smirk forming on his face. " I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you. " you stated, maintaining the handshake.

" John Murphy. " he stated, keeping a strong grip on your small hand. You gave him a small smile before stripping your jumpsuit and leaving for home.

" You ready? " your father asked, waving a hand in front of your face, breaking you out of your daze. It was finally time to line up for the first race of the season.

" Born ready. " you said with a determined smirk on your face. You slipped on your F/C jumpsuit, splattered with logo designs and layered with body armor. You slipped on your boots and gloves tightly, making sure they couldn't come off. You fashioned your hair into a low ponytail and slipped on your custom F/C helmet. The hard plastic was decorated in colorful designs and logos. Large, reflective goggles were fit over to keep the dirt out of your eyes. You looked pretty fucking badass.