#white horse and you’re not sorry by Taylor swift | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lethalchiralium · 1 year

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Can you please do more Taylor Swift?? 🥰🫡

You Belong With Me | Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

a/n: THIS IS LITERALLY ONLY FOR MY FRIENDS LOL 🫶 ( @peachesofteal @as-is-above-so-below ) i love him i love him i love him

warnings: hnng bad boyfriend!

summary: It’s your 21st birthday, yet you sit in a nice restaurant in a beautiful dress and tears in your eyes - until someone comes to your rescue, like a knight on a white horse.

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The clinking of dinner plates was mocking you.

Sat in a pretty light purple dress, the one you had saved for a special birthday you were supposed to be spending at home with your friends - your 21st. But here you were, waiting in a Manchester restaurant with your phone against your ear.

It’s an hour after you had sat down for your reservations and your boyfriend hadn’t even bothered to answer your calls. It seemed it was becoming a common occurrence, the brown haired lawyer named Calvin would call in reservations, you would arrive, sit down, order a water, wait, then he wouldn’t show. It was embarrassing, humiliating - sitting alone at a fancy restaurant in a dress you were now rethinking, your fingers drummed against the side of the wine glass stem with distress.

YOU: Calvin

YOU: Please just call me

YOU: This is the last time. I mean it this time.

YOU: Calvin answer me

Ten calls down the drain, and at this point, you were ready to pay the small bill for the wine and a small plate of bread you barely ate. Your silverware sat out on the nice table cloth, the cloth napkin discarded on the table as you sent one last message.

YOU: I’m going home. Don’t text me that you’re sorry, since you’re apparently not.

How did it all go wrong so fast? You really liked Calvin, he was the right amount of quirky that made you laugh, he was a little standoffish but easy to warm up to. He was incredibly intelligent, just not emotionally connected to himself. It really felt like you were babysitting him sometimes, but other moments made you feel like you were always sitting under starlight. Always the man to bring your favorite candy but forgets to open the door for you, almost always had you cover the bill but he would pay you back by buying you little trinkets. Most were cheap little things like necklaces that broke within a week, rings that would lose their color immediately. Now it really made sense - he didn’t really care.

It seemed every romantic relationship you tried to make work ended up with you, crying alone in a room full of people. Your first boyfriend broke up with you at homecoming, your second had broken up with you two weeks before prom, your third was about ten years too old for you and always made you cry by the end of the day. Was it so bad to just talk things out? To answer phone calls, texts, to let you know that it wasn’t working out and that why it wasn’t. Not because you wanted to keep them, it was to learn how to be better for the next one.

Always the people pleaser, yet no one ever took the time to please you.

A couple tears found their new home on the tablecloth, you were quick to dab at the inner corner of your eyes with your napkin. You turned off your phone, eyes still full of tears as you raised your head to look for your waiter when someone familiar came into view.

“Hope I’m not too late.”

Shock settled into your body, eyes gazing at the beautiful bouquet of red roses, peonies, red tulips, and pink dahlias - all flowers your mother grew in her garden your whole life, but you had only told a few people that. Your eyes trailed up to a nice black three piece tux, the tie a little wonky but you knew he tried his best, then you saw his balaclava in all its glory - meeting his eyes with tears in your own.

“Mr. Riley?” You sniffled, putting your napkin down on the table. “Wh-What are you doing here? Where’s Winnie?”

He sat himself down, settling the bouquet of flowers down on the side of the table. He gently pulled out the silverware from their hold in the cloth napkin, placing the napkin on his lap and he spoke calmly, “With her uncles.” His eyes looked up from the table to meet yours. “I’m sorry it took me so long, I had saw you sitting here when I was driving earlier and I went home to get changed.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, looking out of the window you were sat next to. Of course he could’ve seen you, everyone could see you in this dress that you loved so much, ready to cry all the way home. You felt foolish, waiting for a man who made it clear that he wouldn’t play his games with a twenty year old, a girl who loved him so.

“We’re past formalities, Y/N.” Simon’s voice pulled you out of your head, tears fell down your face as you looked back at your employer - no, friend. Would it be wrong to say friend? You live in his house and take care of his daughter, it would be weird to say ‘employer’.

He had taken off his suit jacket, settled it on the back of his chair while you had stared out the window, he was now fixing his… very nice cufflinks. You looked back to his face, muttering a soft, “Huh?”

“It’s Simon.” His hands settled on the table, you noticed the bruises on his knuckles and felt a pang of sadness. He had just gotten home from deployment and came to see how miserable you were. More tears welled in your eyes, your hands grabbed your napkin and you dabbed them away.

“Well thank you, Simon, but I don’t need you to pity me. I’m just a damn fool.” You muttered, your hands settled in your lap. “A lovesick little fool who always ends up with the broken heart.”

He scoffed. Your eyes flicked upwards immediately, eyebrows furrowed. His eyes were narrowed, staring at you as he stated, “You’re everything but foolish.” He gently moved the cuff around his wrist forwards without even looking at it, he kept his gaze with you. “Kindness is taken for granted more often than not. He’s a daft cunt for standing up a kind woman like you.”

It honestly scared you just how much you began to appreciate Simon Riley in that moment. A man who you assumed always overlooked everyone else’s emotions and needs that weren’t his daughter’s, a man who you thought wouldn’t give you a second look - yet, here he is. Sitting across from you in a suit you haven’t seen, expensive cufflinks fixed and tie sort-of crooked. He took the time to get dressed in a fancy suit and sit down with you.

“Thank you, Simon.” You whispered, the shakiness of your hands on your lap almost made you want to stand. You wanted to leave, you wanted to go home and sleep away your birthday that was supposed to be fun.

Your eyes turned down to your lap, your hands pressed against each other to try and stop the shaking, you could hear Simon settle in his seat.

“We don’t have to stay here, ya know.”

Your fingers fiddled with the ring on your middle finger, twirling the little gem around as you spoke quietly, “What?” Your eyes met Simon’s again, his hands on the table.

“We don’t have to stay here. We can leave whenever.” He pulled out his wallet but your hand moved towards him.

“No no, it was just a couple glasses of wine. I’ll get it.” Your fingertips grazed the side of his wallet, but his hand plucked your touch from it. He pulled out fifty quid and placed it on the nice tablecloth.

His hand then turned upwards, a gentle glint in his eye as he whispered, “Let’s get out of here, yeah?”

Simon hadn’t driven to the restaurant, he had taken the tram like you. Sure, it was only seven stops from his home, but heels are a nuisance. Night had fallen, the street lights casted a warm glow on the sidewalk you walked on with Simon. The river was beside the walkway, a large concrete wall separated you and the flowing water but you wanted to see it. You had come to walk this road almost every day with Winnie in her little stroller, the almost two year old hated walking as much as you hated the England rain.

You were only a couple feet apart from him, his suit jacket back on his shoulders as you tried to not shiver. It was stupid not to bring a jacket, but you were expecting to have been home by now - boyfriend sent home after a nice dinner, but everything had flipped on his head. Instead of Calvin walking you home, it was Simon Riley - the Lieutenant who seemed to not know how to handle emotions, yet he still held the bouquet of flowers for you.

“Cold?”

You came to a stop and Simon followed suit. You shrugged. “I’ll be fine.” His eyes narrowed before he held out the bouquet of flowers for you, you took them in his hand before he began to peel off his suit jacket. “Simon, it’s okay-“

He moved his arms around your front to drape the jacket over your shoulders, you were suddenly enveloped with the scent of him. It smelled like bourbon, sandalwood, and the faint musk of cigarette smoke. He took the flowers from your hands so you could put your arms through the sleeves. It (fit snug / was barely oversized / was larger) on your frame compared to Simon, since it seemed tailored to fit him perfectly. His eyes were focused on the jacket, helping you tug it forwards as your eyes gazed up at his masked face. “Warm now?”

You nodded just a little, mesmerized by how beautiful his eyelashes were. His gaze met yours and you looked away to the river, hands coming to pull the jacket closed over your body. “Thank you.”

He didn’t answer, he only looked out to where he hoped you were looking too. Beautiful trees lined the cold river, warm lights hung from the branches - a brick wall he used to walk by alone, but not at that moment. You cleared your throat, causing Simon to be launched back into reality where you began to slow down.

“Are you alright?” He murmured, only taking another step forward to come stand in front of you. You had stopped between two street lamps, the smaller lights hung from the trees illuminated you like you were made of magic. Simon noted how your hair was straightened and curled, some pieces tucked into pins near your ears and the effort you must have gone through to make yourself more presentable to a man who didn’t seem to care. You had turned to the river, taking the few steps and hopping onto the wall to sit. Simon instantly darted towards you, hands out in case you toppled back into the river, but you were fine - you flashed him a smile. He let out a nervous sigh but it wouldn’t have been noticeable to you.

“Sit with me.” Patting the wall beside you, Simon merely shook his head. “Why not?”

He moved to stand a couple feet from you, close. “Easier to protect you if I’m already up.”

“Ah.” A mumble from your lipstick painted lips, head turning to look out onto the river. “It’s really beautiful here.”

“Sure.”

You laughed in response. “I like the city more than home. It got lonely in the mountains.” Tugging a neat curl behind your ear, your hands moved to settle around your middle, pulling his suit jacket tight to conserve warmth. That’s when your hand tapped against something leather - you looked into the suit, and digging out a leather flask. You laughed a little bit as you held it up for Simon to see. “Always prepared?”

Simon flushed underneath his balaclava, completely forgetting that his only suit still had the flask he had tucked in it. He goes to a few funerals every few years, the flask was either half-full or empty, but knowing that there was a formal event a few months ago he had to attend, that meant it was at least half-empty. “Uh- Yeah. Events get boring. But I wouldn’t-“

You unscrewed the flask and quickly taking a swig, only to make a sour face as you then held it out to Simon. He laughed a little, taking the flash as you sputtered, “Jesus, this shit is- God. Ew.”

“Sorry,” Pulling up his balaclava to above his lips, he took a swig himself, feeling the bitter burn of a whiskey that’s sat too long. “it’s not my best whiskey.” He tugged the balaclava back down, giving the flask a good look.

A laugh escaped your lips. “You’ll have to let me try your good stuff then.”

His eyes flickered up to you, and it was that moment where he could’ve sworn Heaven had brought you. He cleared his throat, handing it back to you. “I will, it won’t be from a flask in a suit that’s never used.” He nodded to the suit jacket before looking down the street to his right, watching the traffic pass by with a watchful eye.

The smile on your lips faded a little, seeing how easily Simon could return to Ghost. It wasn’t often you saw the façade, but it still made your heart grow cold. How could such a loving father become something so heartless?

You shook the thought away. Winnie was a wonderful girl with a father who showed no end to his love for her, making sure she had everything she needed and more. It wasn’t right to judge him because of what he does. You looked back out to waving river, feeling the inky sludge of abandonment claw its way through your chest. He shouldn’t have to be here, you should be silently crying on the tram - walking home barefoot since your feet hurt in those stupid heels. He should be at home with his daughter, the little girl who loved him so much and always waited for him to come home. “Sorry you have to babysit me.”

He gave you a bewildered look before answering, “I’m not babysitting you. It’s your birthday, yeah?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Babysitting makes it sound like I’m a creepy old man. I’m not that much older.” He shrugged, looking back to you.

“Oh? How old are you?”

“25.”

A noise of surprise left your lips, followed by a fit of giggles. “And I thought you were 29.”

“Ah.” He laughed a little to himself, looking up to the sky to see the small tremor of lightning in the sky. “It might start raining soon.”

Your eyes followed, seeing the darkening sky and feeling the breeze grow colder. “Yeah.”

“Sorry you have to spend your birthday with me, I’m not fun company.”

Shaking your head, you spoke softly, “Sure you are. There’s no one I’d want more to walk me home.”

He looked back down the road, but you didn’t miss the movement in his cheeks. An invisible string in your chest was plucked, humming a sweet note in your head as you looked at him - really looked at him.

“Simon.”

And even without seeing his face, you knew he was beautiful.

“Mmhmm.” He looked back to you.

“Thank you.”

He didn’t say a word, only held out his hands - helping you down from the wall. He then held out his arm, and with a smile on your face, you curled your arm around his. With the sleeves of his suit jacket hanging off your hands, you clutched to his arm as you continued the walk home.

Simon could keep his eyes on a target for hours at a time, keep his focus forward and stay on task with a clear mind - yet, while he slowly walked home in comfortable silence, all his mind was full of was how warm you were, and with every bump of your arm made electricity run through his body like he had been struck by lightning.

It had started to rain by the time you two reached the porch of his home, but before he could unlock the door, you gripped his arm. Looking down at you again, he watched you wobble as you peeled off your heels. A groan of relief left your lips as you chucked them beside the door, letting them flop onto their sides. You, now a few inches shorter, glanced at Simon.

“What?”

He didn’t even respond, seeing your pretty eyes and lips close to his face made him feel that electricity again, flowing through his chest in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time.

“Thank you again.” With a tug on his sleeve, he moved down and before he knew it, your lips pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek. Leaning back and letting him stand again, you gave him a smile before turning to the door - letting go of his arm before you entered his home, closing the door behind yourself.

Simon’s hand reached up to touch his cheek, the chill of the rain did nothing to change how warm he felt then. Something in his heart clenched, and he wanted to go inside and have you kiss his cheek again, but without the mask. Was it bad he wanted to feel your lips against his skin?

Thunder clapped, his hand still settled on his cheek as he felt the blossom of feelings he had nipped at the bud a year ago. But you were young, he was four years older than you and he was a fucked up mess. Yet, he had seen how other men had destroyed your sweet heart, something you always seemed to glue together for his daughter.

I would treat you right.

I wouldn’t ever leave you sitting in a restaurant alone.

I would never let you walk home alone.

You don’t belong with someone who wouldn’t treat you right.

You belong with me.

#lethalchiralium #lethal chiralium #simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley mw2 #simon riley call of duty #simon riley cod #simon riley x you #simon riley x f!reader #simon riley x fem!reader #simon ghost riley call of duty #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x fem!reader #simon ghost riley cod #happiness series

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lonelywriter10 · 6 months

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This isn’t a fairytale

Jake Seresin x GN!Reader

Synopsis- too many nights apart, too many cancelled dates, reservations, anniversaries and Jakes world is crumbling around him.

(GIF credits go to the owner )

Warnings- angst, break up, soulmates? (This was lowkey inspired by White horse by Taylor Swift.)

- Nat : I’ll be on standby if you need me.

You stare at the text on your phone, the weight of the world sat on your chest as you watch the front door for Jake. The calendar reminder on your phone telling you how you missed a dinner reservation with Jake an hour ago. Today had been one of many incidents of Jake missing something important and tonight was not an exception, but it was the final straw.

You hear the sound of the lock clicking as Jakes heavy boots sound through the entryway. The sound of your dog, Macy, rushing to see Jake. You can see how he’d get down and pat Macy, asking about her day, asking what she did as if she could talk back to him. The rain fell gently against the window and the warm glow of the lamp filled the living room. There was a sense of melancholy that hung in the air, you watched as Jake stepped into the living room, his gaze fell on you and you saw how relief filled his eyes.

You smiled at him as he sat on the couch, it dipped beneath his weight as he let out a sigh sinking into the cushions. “How was your day?” His baritone voice filled the silent, echoing around the room. The simple domesticity of the question seemed forced, his tone of voice didn’t meet the emotions in his eyes. The soft calm tone didn't meet the dread in his eyes, the knowing of the inevitable.

“It was good..” Your words came out quiet as silence fell between you both again. Jake could see the hints of curls peeking out of your messy bun, the discarded heels by the front door and the purse you reserved for special occasions on the dining room table.

Jake felt his heart grow heavy as he looked at you, regret filled his chest as he knew, knew you were tired of being second to his job, having to be told that he wouldn’t make your date, your anniversary dinner. Jake knew you were sick of the “Jake would miss your wedding if the army called.” Joke that his friends threw around, he knew you were dine but Jake couldn’t find it within himself to face the reality in front of him.

“Babe I-” Jake began to speak but the sound of your scoff echoed through the room, the tension thickened as your gaze finally met his.

“Jake, when will I stop being second? When will I be the first choice?” Your voice quivered as you spoke, the words felt like a stab into Jake’s chest. “I thought that stupid joke your friends made would be nothing but a joke, but I looked like such a clown sitting at the dining table waiting for you!”

Jake flinched slightly as you raised your voice. “Babe please I-” Jake felt a lump in his throat as he looked at you, he reached out for you and found swift rejection as you stood up from the couch. Jake admired you, draped in his old navy shirt and your sleep shorts, an attire Jake often found you in when he returned from work. Jake found something so plain, so simple to be so beautiful in his eyes. “Babe please I’m sorry..” Jake could no longer count how many times he had said that phrase, it left his lips too often for Jake to deny it. Jake knew he said the phrase “I’m sorry.” more than he said “I love you.”

“But that's just it Jake, you’re sorry! You’re always sorry!.” Your words came out exasperated as your breathing became ragged, the threat of tears drawing nearer as Jake stood up and stepped closer to you. “Don’t even come closer to me!”

Jake felt his heart shatter, his world crumbled as he looked at you. The words “I’m sorry, please forgive me.” Threatened to spill as he looked at you. Jake had witnessed many fights between his parents as a child, but in his head, this isn't you guys, this wasn’t what your relationship was like. Jake felt everything fall apart as you walked to the bedroom, your suitcase right on your heels as you quickly came back out. “This is it?” Jake’s lip wobbled as he slowly turned to look at you. “I’m sorry, I can’t do the missed anniversaries, the cancelled dates, I couldn’t stop imagining what it would be like if we ever had children, got married, would you miss those dates too?” Jake wanted to deny your words, he wanted to say that he wouldn’t but he knew, Jake knew that there was no guarantee.

Jake took his favourite ring on a chain off his neck, clasping the necklace around your own neck. “I can’t guarantee that I wouldn’t miss those events sweetheart, but if by some miracle you still want me one day this ring will bring you back to me..” Jake’s voice shook as he struggled to keep his composure, he placed a gentle kiss on your temples as more tears fell between you both. “I love you sweetheart, but I know I made you unhappy..” You shook your head no as you leaned into his embrace. “It was never you Jake, it was the job..” Jake nodded as he wished it was that simple, he wished it was the job and not him.

Jake knew the cost of the military.

Jake helped you take your things out to your truck, the night sky was clear. It contrasted with the blue sky during the day, the blue sky bringing a sense of promise and hope and the dark night brought a sense of dread and loneliness that Jake could only describe as haunting. Jake stood with Macy on the porch as they both watched you back out of the driveway, tears fell down both your cheeks as you got a final look at Jake and the house, and Jake got a final look at you. Taking in how the moonlight highlighted the often hidden beauty of your features, features that Jake would only see at night when he held you in his arms in bed.

He would never get that chance again.

Jake stood on the porch for a few moments, hoping you’d turn the car around, that you’d come back to him. Jake turned around and went back into the house, Macy looked between Jake and the driveway. The confusion written in the dog’s eyes. Jake curled onto the bed you two once shared, the smell of your shampoo on the pillow, the hollow feeling of the house echoed around as Jake cried.

You sat at the beach, the radio played softly as you sat there admiring the glow of the moonlight on the ocean. The events of tonight played in your head, the decision was right, thats what your head said.

But your heart disagreed.

It called for Jake, you yearned for his touch to make everything feel better in that moment. Both your worlds fell apart as tears fell almost simultaneously.

In different places you both were still in sync with one another.

The sound of your hearts breaking.

The echoes of your sobs.

Fallen tears on cheeks.

(A/N Lowkey dipped on yall, sorry :( life got rlly busy it was crazy)

#top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #jake seresin #top gun maverick fanfiction #jake hangman seresin #glen powell #glen powell x reader #angst #hangman seresin #top gun hangman #hangman top gun #hangman angst #top gun x reader #top gun movie #top gun angst

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 1 year

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Now I’m Covered In You [Chapter 1: Afternoon Light]

Series summary: Aemond is a prince of England. You are married to his brother. The Wars of the Roses are about to begin, and you have failed to fulfill your one crucial responsibility: to give the Greens a line of legitimate heirs. Will you survive the demands of your family back in Navarre, the schemes of the Duke of Hightower, the scandals of your dissolute husband, the growing animosity of Daemon Targaryen…and your own realization of a forbidden love?

Series title is a lyric from: Ivy by Taylor Swift.

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+), dubious consent, miscarriage, pregnancy, childbirth, violence, warfare, murder, alcoholism, sexism, infidelity, illness, death, only vaguely historically accurate, lots of horses!

Word count: 3.9k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

A/N: Not me pulling a Tom Brady by announcing my retirement only to immediately un-announce it. 😂😂 I regret to inform you that I am apparently incapable of not writing fanfiction. I had no ideas for a grand total of 1 week before this story showed up and possessed me entirely against my will...and then I fell in love with it. I’m still working on my book, but I had to get this out of my system too. I hope you enjoy it. 💜 I’ll tag some of my past readers, but I WILL NOT TAG YOU AGAIN unless you ask me to! 🥰

@elsolario @ladylannisterxo @doingfondue @tclegane @quartzs-posts @liathelioness @aemcndtargaryen @thelittleswanao3 @burningcoffeetimetravel @poohxlove @borikenlove @myspotofcraziness @travelingmypassion @graykageyama @skythighs @lauraneedstochill @darlingimafangirl @charenlie @thewew @eddies-bat-tattoos @minttea07 @joliettes @trifoliumviridi @flowerpotmage @thewitch-lives @tempt-ress @padfooteyes @teenagecriminalmastermind @chelsey01 @anditsmywholeheart @heliosscribbles @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @tillyt04 @cicaspair418 @fan-goddess

He’s thrusting into you, but you’re miles away: a speck of an island in the Mediterranean Sea, the glimmer of an unnamed star.

His rhythm is clumsy but never rough. He smells like wine and sandalwood, lavender and bleak perspiration. You moan when he expects you to. Your body moves with his, compliant, complicit. You roll your hips and tug at his white-blond hair, corollaries of ecstasy you wish you felt. You’ve learned to feign pleasure convincingly. Aegon will stop if he thinks you’re not enjoying yourself, and you need this to be over. What do you want me to do to you? he’ll ask, cerulean eyes drunk and muddy, words slurred, body repositioning. Do you like it this way? How about this? You can’t bear his curious consideration, his invasive hands. You don’t really like it any way. You’ve grown to accept that. You’ve had time to get used to the idea.

The air is sharp with the mineral ether of sex. Spots on the sheet beneath you are wet, clinging, cold. When Aegon kisses you—sloppily, carelessly—your lips and tongue follow his, willing him to finish, your eyes squeezed shut as he gropes your face with ungainly fingers. And at last, it’s done: he shudders, groans, flops down beside you on the mattress.

“Well done, wife,” Aegon pants. He gives your disheveled hair one absentminded stroke and then gazes up at the canopy, cloth embroidered with green roses and spiraling gold dragons. He yawns, his eyes dipping closed. The rise and fall of his bare, glistening chest is slowing.

“Aegon?”

“Hm?” He is inconvenienced; he is already half-asleep.

You roll onto your side, turning towards him. Aegon feels the mattress shift. Reluctantly, he rouses himself, sighs, swallows the rest of the wine in the cup he left perched on the nightstand. “I’m so sorry,” you say softly.

“About what?” He peers at you, groggy and half-listening, stray beads of red wine like blood on his chin. “Oh, yes. That.”

That. What he means is three miscarriages in one year, all early, all excruciating beyond words, all destructive to both the body and the soul. “You have no idea how hard I’m trying.”

“Don’t worry yourself, wife,” he says, yawning again. He always calls you that—wife—with a vague, impersonal fondness. Aegon doesn’t know anything about you. He doesn’t seem interested in remedying that. He doesn’t see it as something to be remedied at all. He attempts to set his empty cup back on the nightstand and doesn’t notice when it tumbles off and clanks against the floor. He burrows beneath the blankets like a hedgehog. “We’ll get it right eventually.”

Eventually, you think with horror, as you are left alone in the candlelight; Aegon plummets into sleep and is silent except for his snoring. How long will I have to do this?

Twelve months of marriage and you are no closer to fulfilling your purpose here. You are told what to eat, when to sleep with your husband, how to lie still afterwards so his seed can take hold, which saints to pray to. You are offered tender-voiced morsels of advice until they feel more like palms cracking across your face than gifts. Every second of your existence is consumed by the desperate need for Aegon’s heir, for the Greens’ future. And each time you lose a pregnancy, the clock starts over again.

How long can I do this before it breaks me, kills me, drives me mad?

~~~~~~~~~~

When a northern pike glides through cool rippling currents, yellow perch and bluegills scatter; and that’s exactly what the courtiers do to you. It’s a bit like living inside a glass bowl: people press their palms to the arched walls and stare like you’re a captive animal—a leopard or an elephant or a white bear from the Arctic—but they don’t speak to you. None of them know what to say. There are whispers flying, women in gowns and men in tunics gossiping about how last night was the first time the prince returned to your bed since your most recent miscarriage. The tentative speculation can begin again, glances at your waistline and delicate inquiries about your health. Bets are placed on whether you will at last produce an heir this time: boy, girl, white-haired or not, early, late, alive, dead. The clock has been reset.

You do not allow anyone to see your pain, your desperation. You have no true friends here. You are allied with the Greens, yes, but that does not mean they are your friends. The Duke of Hightower, chief advisor to the king, was insistent that you bring none of your ladies with you from your homeland; and so the women who attend you are English, polite but not particularly devoted, dutiful but not reliably discreet. He wanted no weak links, no chess pieces that he could not entirely control, no loyalties that ran deeper than his ambitions for Alicent and her children. Now, the Duke of Hightower is fiercely disappointed with you. He’s losing his ability to hide it.

As you traverse the Great Hall of Westminster Palace—an island, a lone cloud roaming across a clear sky—Prince Daemon, smirking and wolflike, stalks into your path.

“Hello there, Navarre,” he says, circling with one hand on the hilt of his sword, his strange deep-set eyes flicking all over you. He likes to call you this, a reminder of where you came from, of why Aegon married you: for an alliance, for advantages in the inevitable civil war when King Viserys dies, for heirs intrinsically linked with the Continent. You were one piece of a far grander design. Helaena was married off to Castile, you were brought west from Navarre, and thus the Greens gained supporters in the Iberian Peninsula. Helaena has given birth to one healthy son so far, and by all accounts has found great happiness in her new life across the Bay of Biscay. Daemon never tires of drawing attention to the fact that you have yet to fulfill your half of the bargain.

You bow your head swiftly, without conviction. “Prince Daemon.”

“My, that’s quite an extravagant gown. What have you got hidden under it? Your father’s famed archers, perhaps? Gold coins and steel daggers? I know what Prince Aegon would want under his skirts.” Daemon grins. “Lady Joanna Montford. Or is it Mountford? You must forgive me, I’m always mixing up the details.”

“I’ll defer to your better judgment, you have far more experience with whores than I do.”

He offers you a single rose, dyed black. “I regret that I did not have the opportunity to properly express my condolences after your most recent loss. It’s become difficult to keep up with them, they’ve grown so numerous. I’m sure you understand.”

You take the rose; untrimmed thorns bite into the defenseless flesh of your fingertips, but you don’t let it show on your face. “Only one from you? Your wife sent me a dozen.” They were red, the color of Navarre’s flag; though the resemblance to blood did not escape you.

“Yes, it’s true, her heart remains rather tender, much to my chagrin.”

“And yours remains nonexistent.” You pluck onyx petals from the rose one by one and toss them to the floor. Courtiers watch this, chattering spiritedly.

Daemon is still grinning. He has won. It never matters what you say, what you do; until you give Aegon a son, in every interaction Daemon walks away the victor. “I hope you enjoy the rest of this glorious July afternoon. And I hope you enjoy your evening as well. And the evening after that, and the evening after that…” He prowls closer, his voice dropping low and sinister. “And all those countless, blundering, long evenings you’ll spend under your mortifying drunk of a husband.”

You rip away from him—not his hands, no, even Daemon would not deign to touch you in front of an audience, but from his suffocating antipathy—and continue on your way to the royal stables, courtiers dispersing in your wake like startled doves. The cobblestones of the palace gardens are weather-beaten and craggy as you sail over them, warm summer wind in your hair, the hem of your gown dragging. Herbs and spices grow high and vivid green: angelica for digestion, feverfew for headaches, St. John’s wort for melancholy, betony to ward off evil spirits, chamomile to bring sleep, rosemary to quell nightmares, pennyroyal to induce a woman’s monthly blood. You have the opposite problem. All you seem to be able to do is bleed.

Inside the royal stables, the world is reduced to hushed subtleties: hooves thudding against straw, nickers and huffs, the swishing of tails, cascading sunlight dotted with whirling planets of dust. You drift by each of the stalls, inhaling the scent of horses and mid-summer. King Viserys promised you an Andalusian, brought by ship all the way from your homeland, for each child born to you and Aegon; alas, none of the animals housed here are yours yet. There’s Sunfyre, an Akhal-Teke, small-boned and shimmering gold. There’s Caraxes, a temperamental blood bay Arabian, and Syrax, a Marwari, cremello with blue eyes and delicate ears that curl in towards each other. Tessarion is a dappled blue-grey Percheron, young but gaining height and brute force each day. Jacaerys and Lucerys have Marwaris like their mother, Baela and Rhaena own volatile Arabians like their father. Joffrey is still riding a slow, potbellied pony; little Aegon III, Viserys II, and Visenya cannot ride at all yet. Every time you blink, it seems, the Blacks have added another child to their ranks, another inheritor to carry their claim forward. Your stomach sinks beneath your skin and scarlet ropes of muscle, a basket full of rocks.

You stop at the last stall, twice the size of any of the others. Vhagar towers over you. She is an English Great Horse, and the largest one that anyone can remember knowing of; her coat is a dark, lustrous brown, her massive hooves feathered, her muzzle sloped and velvety when you lay your palm against it. She lets you do this, as she always does; more than that, you think, she welcomes it.

You remove the letter from your bodice, your true purpose for coming here. You want to read it where you can be alone, where there are no prying eyes to report back to King Viserys, Queen Alicent, the Duke of Hightower, Aegon, Daemon, Rhaenyra the Crown Princess. You must keep your composure, your dignity. It’s all you have left.

You unfold the letter, your gaze skimming across your mother’s words, the slopes and summits of her letters heartbreakingly familiar, her fears loud through the ink-and-parchment silence. You expected this, and yet the weight of it stacks up in your ribcage like the splintered wreckage of a ship.

Think, my love, the Queen of Navarre writes. Think of everything you do, see, say, and feel. There is something that is poisoning the children inside of you. Do not trouble yourself with court gossip or bitter rivalries. You cannot serve your husband’s family—your family, now—if your attention is divided and your heart heavy with doubts. Shut yourself away from all things impassioned. Commit yourself to prayer and needlework. Purify yourself, dear daughter, prepare yourself in body and soul. God answers the cries of those who have won his favor.

You crumple the letter in your fists and then rip it to pieces, not out of wrath but so that nobody else might read it. The fragments flutter away like autumn leaves. You cannot resent your mother for her cushioned reprimands. She means well, but she cannot hope to understand; she bore ten children, eight of whom lived past the cradle, with no exceptional difficulty. Your father has taken mistresses on occasion, but not until years into his marriage, and regardless of his dalliances your mother remains his confidant, his greatest desire, his heart. Your life is nothing like hers. Your future has become something you didn’t know existed. You feel as if you have stumbled into a mirror, a duplicate world where everything is the same but the wrong way around. Where is your own satisfaction? Where is your soulmate?

There are footsteps, and you spin to see Prince Aemond standing in the doorway. He immediately turns to leave, and this is unsurprising; he never speaks to you, rarely looks at you, glides out of rooms as you come into them. You had once hoped to befriend him before his aversion to the notion became clear. He is palpably disinterested in you. But this afternoon as warm golden sunlight spills down on him, for reasons you cannot fathom, he hesitates; and now he’s waited too long, it would be rude for him to flee so obviously from you. Slowly, Aemond walks into the stable. He is so much like Daemon, though lighter: not in color but in gravity, his steps quieter, his hands graceful and precise. You’ve never seen him without his eyepatch. The Blacks call the cause of his maiming a sparring accident, the Greens call it an ambush, King Viserys doesn’t call it anything; perhaps he has forgotten it completely.

You expect Aemond to demand to know what you’re doing here, to scold you for jeopardizing your health with unnecessary excursions. “I’m so sorry for what you’re going through,” he says instead, his voice whisper-soft like pattering spring rain, like a leaf of lamb’s ear threaded between your fingers. “I hope my brother has been…kind about it.”

“He’s very kind. He doesn’t mention it at all.” Not once has anybody said those three words to you: I’m so sorry. They lift a million pounds from your shoulders, an eon of stones from your belly. “In fact, no one speaks of it with me. They speak in my direction, they tell me what to do differently, they assign blame…but no one has any interest in what I have to say back. No one asks me what it feels like to…to…”

It shocks you, knuckles to the gut: your breath hitches, your lips tremble, you swallow down tears like poison. It’s humiliating, this display of helplessness, this shattering of regal poise. You shield your face with both hands so Aemond cannot watch you war with yourself. And surely he is repulsed by you, this prince who has been mutilated and unavenged and overlooked since childhood. You have never known anyone as self-possessed as Aemond Targaryen. He endures all of life’s trials without emotion, without weakness. He must be appalled that you cannot do the same.

Yet when you are at last confident that you will not weep in front of him, you lower your hands to see that Aemond has silently obliterated the space between you. He is close enough to touch, his palm pressed to Vhagar’s monstrous neck. He’s looking at the horse, but he is listening to you. “She likes you,” he says gently. “She doesn’t like anyone.”

You’ve never been in such proximity to Aemond before. He’s taller than you remember; his eye is watchful and intent, a paler shade of blue than Aegon’s, more clear, a river rather than a sea riotous with storms. When you inhale, you taste pieces of him: leather, musk, the smoke of a blacksmith’s forge. There’s an abrupt weakness in your knees and ankles that you pretend not to notice. “Most of my friends have hooves these days.”

“I never see you go out riding.”

“I’m not allowed to.”

For an instant, his brow knits with confusion, and then he remembers. Horseback riding is thought to be calamitous for pregnancy, and your chances are slim enough already. “But that’s something that you once enjoyed, back in Navarre?” You flinch when you hear the name of your homeland, a reflex, Daemon’s taunts ringing in your skull like church bells. Everyone knows that’s what he calls you. “Forgive me, perhaps that word has painful connotations now.”

“It doesn’t sound so bad when you say it.” And that’s true: it’s not a dagger but a murmur, a musing, a dream. “Yes, I used to love riding horses. And dancing, attending hunting expeditions, reading poetry, plucking olives from the trees…my brothers and I would even knock swords together sometimes in the courtyard.” You smile wistfully, then lose it like a gull feather on waves. “And now I don’t do anything.”

“What brings you happiness here in England?”

“Nothing,” you reply, meeting his gaze for the first time. He studies you, his eye blue like the mid-summer afternoon sky, searching. And suddenly, you’ve never felt more interesting, you’ve never felt such raw hunger to unearth everything you’re built of. You skate your palm down Vhagar’s face and confess quietly, shakily: “I always thought I would teach my children to ride horses.”

“You will someday,” Aemond insists.

“When you’re little, five or ten years old, you dream about growing up and all the miraculous things you’ll be. And then you finally become an adult and you meet the rest of your life and…and…” You don’t like it. “It’s so different from what you imagined.”

“Yes,” Aemond agrees, soft and mournful.

“But I’ve interrupted you,” you say. “You came here to take Vhagar riding, I’m sure, and now you’re caught in my little web of nostalgia and self-pity. Please, accept my apology, and don’t let me delay you any further.”

“I was planning to go riding,” Aemond admits. He’s wearing a black leather messenger bag, you notice for the first time. He pulls at the strap that hangs from his right shoulder self-consciously. You have never seen Aemond betray any sign of self-consciousness before this moment. In many ways, you have never seen him at all. He asks you pointedly: “What if I took Vhagar out walking you accompanied me?”

“I told you. I can’t.”

“Not riding,” Aemond says. “Just walking. We’ll lead her down to the edge of the forest, let her stretch her legs a bit and eat some of the fallen apples. You’re allowed to walk, aren’t you?”

“I suppose so.” You stare at him, perplexed. You almost ask why he would offer to do such a thing, why he would feel inspired to raise your spirits. But you don’t want him to change his mind. You point to his messenger bag. “What do you have in there?”

“Parchment. Quills. A bottle of ink.”

“What do you write? Battle plans? Letters to marriageable foreign noblewomen?”

“Poems,” Aemond confesses in a whisper you can barely hear, not looking at you.

“Could I read some of your poems?”

“No,” he says immediately, startled.

“Never mind. It was wrong of me to ask.”

He doesn’t reply; he just fetches Vhagar’s halter from the hook on the stable wall, black leather studded with sapphires the size of ladybugs. She allows Aemond to place it on her without any resistance. He attaches the lead chain—heavy silver links—but he doesn’t need it. Vhagar follows him out of the stables, her colossal hooves drumming like distant thunder, her jet black mane whipping in the wind. Aemond matches his pace with yours as the three of you cross the emerald green field that separates Westminster Palace from the tree line of the forest.

After strolling for a while—Vhagar chomping on apples, you stepping gingerly over felled branches and gnarled roots—you and Aemond sit beneath a sprawling cedar that blots out the sun, its limbs like the wings of a dragon. He recounts myths and legends of England, things that Aegon has not thought to share with you once in the past twelve months, weeks of which you spent in bed bleeding out his would-be children: King Arthur and Beowulf, Robin Hood and the Rollright Stones, Saint George the guardian of the royal family. And as Aemond speaks, at some point you stop hearing him and start seeing him, everything that brought him here, everything that will happen next.

Once upon a time, King Viserys named his daughter Rhaenyra his successor. She was his only surviving offspring, the last vestige of his cherished wife Aemma, dead in fruitless childbirth and cold in her tomb in Windsor Castle. The king then promptly remarried and fathered four more Targaryens, closer to afterthoughts than assets in his eyes: Aegon, Helaena, Aemond, Daeron. Rhaenyra is still the king’s favorite, and is much loved in Northern England, where her mother hailed from. She has the support of Scotland as well. Her marriage to their Crown Prince Laenor Velaryon was meant to consolidate the two nations under one ruling family, one flag. To reinforce this alliance, her uncle Daemon wed Laenor’s sister Laena. But then Laena died, and Laenor did too, and all those tragic pieces fell together for Rhaenyra to get what she evidently wanted all along: Daemon in wedlock, in her confidence, in her bed. Her sons with Laenor will soon marry his daughters with Laena, and each new white-haired child she produces with her uncle gives the Blacks one more dynastic pawn to play in the game of thrones.

The merchants of Southern England—the Duke of Hightower foremost among them—are aghast at the thought of Rhaenyra’s ascension. No woman has ever successfully ruled England, and she is sure to be malevolently influenced by her uncle-husband. The Pope will not sanction their incestuous union, nor those of their children, though this does not daunt the Blacks. They will make a new order here in the British Isles; they will not play by the Continent’s rules. In reply, the kingdoms of Western Europe—to varying degrees of zealousness—support the Greens and the coronation of Aegon II upon his father’s death. King Viserys is in fine health now, but that could change at a moment’s notice: with a fall from a horse, with veins darkened by infection, with a vial of poison, with a resurgence of Plague. When the king is dead, Aegon must have every possible advantage to offer England, including a clear line of succession. This was supposed to be your role. This has become your greatest failure. Yet here under a hundred-year-old cedar tree outside Westminster Palace, Aemond makes you forget that for a while.

Hours later, you are back in your bedchamber when your husband arrives to fuck you. That’s a crude word for it, but that’s exactly what it is: something he does to you, not with you. You gulp down a cup of your apple cider, the drink you like best here in England, not as thick and bitter as ale, not a poor imposter of the Continent’s red wine. It is bright, sweet, sometimes vaguely minty. It makes you think of spring and summer, of rebirth. It fills you with the undying ambition to bear fruit of your own.

You turn to Aegon, who is yanking off his white shirt with his back to you, his hair in disarray, his pores sweating out wine and indifference. He crawls into the bed on all fours, slapping himself lightly across the face, forcing himself to stay awake until the act is done.

And you think, for the very first time: I wonder what it would have been like to marry Aemond.

#aemond targaryen #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you #hotd fanfic

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nhlclover · 1 year

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𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 | 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐑 𝐙𝐄𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐒

word count: 0.97k

summary: your first date with trevor might end up changing your life for the better

warnings: based on 'fearless' by taylor swift, making out

The lights in the theatre come on as the credits of the movie begin to roll on the screen. I stand up alongside Trevor, my legs feeling slightly wobbly after sitting for almost 3 hours.

“What’d you think of the movie?” Trevor asked me. I contemplate telling Trevor my true thoughts about the movie he picked for us to see.

A while ago, Trevor had approached me at the grocery store as I was picking out a carton of eggs. He told me he thought I was pretty and wanted to know if I would go out on a date with him. I had never seen someone so bold. So I said yes. He offered up going to the movies and I agreed. Since he was paying for my ticket, he picked the movie, which ended up being some movie starring Nicholas Cage.

“It was…” I falter.

“It was bad, right?” He asks.

“Yes, I’m sorry.” I laugh, following him out of our theatre. “It was really, really bad.”

“That’s my bad. You probably shouldn’t have let me pick the movie.” He laughs.

There's something 'bout the way The street looks when it's just rained There's a glow off the pavement, you walk me to the car And you know I wanna ask you to dance right there In the middle of the parking lot

We exit to the parking lot, the lamps causing the pavement glowing from the recent rain. Trevor slyly slips his hand into my mine as we walk to his car. I smile at the gesture. The parking lot is close to empty as we saw the movie at a late showing. I almost consider asking Trevor to dance in the middle of the parking lot but don’t. It's only our first date after all.

I get in the passenger seat while he gets in the drivers seat, starting up the car. “I have somewhere I want to take you.” Trevor tells me. “If you’re up for it.”

I don't want this date to end just yet, enjoying the presence of Trevor so much, so I agree.

We're driving down the road, I wonder if you know I'm trying so hard not to get caught up now But you're just so cool, run your hands through your hair Absentmindedly making me want you

He pulls out of the parking lot, handing me his phone and telling me to pick out the music. I put on some country music which Trevor approves of by cranking the volume and lowering the windows. We sing along to Luke Combs as we speed down the empty streets. I glance over at Trevor as he runs a hand through his dark blonde hair, tousling it. The action is innocent for him, but for me it sends a flurry of butterflies into flight, making me want him even more.

We finally come to a dead end up atop a hill, Trevor pulling onto the side. He perfectly positions the car so that we can see through a clearing of trees out into the city of Anaheim. “Wow.” I breathe out.

So, baby, drive slow 'til we run out of road In this one-horse town, I wanna stay right here In this passenger's seat You put your eyes on me In this moment now, capture it, remember it

“I know right.” He smiles. “This view never fails to take my breath away.”

“I bet you take all your girls out here.” I joke.

Trevor doesn’t laugh, but smiles softly. “No, actually. Just you.” He says as if coming to a realization. I examine his soft expression, taking a mental polaroid of him in that moment. His touseled hair falling perfectly into place, and his chain disappearing underneath his white shirt.

Trevor looks as though he wants to say something, his lips slightly parted as he looks at me. “It’s late. I should take you home.” He says finally, although not what I wanted to hear. I nod anyways as he starts back up the car.

The music starts up again, but this time we’re no longer singing. It feels as though something up on that hill was left unsaid. I spend the drive home wondering whether or not Trevor will kiss me when he drops me off. If he kisses me, then its a sign the date went well and he wants to see me again. However, if he doesn’t, it means he didn’t enjoy the date and the connection I felt the whole night was simply one-sided.

Well, you stood there with me in the doorway My hands shake, I'm not usually this way but You pull me in and I'm a little more brave It's the first kiss, it's flawless, really something It's fearless

When he pulls into my driveway, he gets out, opening the car door for me and walking me up to my door.

“Thank you for such an amazing date.” I say, genuinely to Trevor. “And thank you for showing me that amazing view.” I look down at my hands which are shaking as I anticipate his next move.

Suddenly, I feel his hand under my chin, lifting it so I’m looking into his eyes. He drops his hands to my hips, softly pulling me in. When I recognize what’s happening, I finish his actions, leaning up to him and pressing my lips to his. He is soft at first but recognizes my urgency and deepens the kiss. He hooks his fingers into my belt loops, pulling my hips into his. My arms are attached around his neck drawing him down to match my height. We both seem to gasp for air when we separate.

“I’ll call you when I get home.” He whispers to me. He presses another kiss to my lips before returning to his car, leaving me reeling from the kiss on my front porch.

#trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras imagine #nhl imagine #nhl #anaheim ducks #hockey #luvzegras

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braidlottie · 5 months

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forever is the sweetest con.

pairing: cowgirl!lottieshauna x transmasc!cowboy!reader

summary: your car breaks down on the side of the road, but luckily two friendly cowgirls help you out and give you a place to stay for the night.

tags: no smut! the wild west au :3, lottie and shauna are dating, guns, lottie smokes, lottie and shauna’s southern accent feature, transmasc!reader, top surgery, lottie asks about your scars, stupid cowboy crew names that i made up, shauna is a flirt

wc: 1.4K

a/n: i don’t know how to end fics once again im Sorry 🙁 also @antlerbf without u this would’ve never been written 😄😄

title inspired by cowboy like me by taylor swift

moodboard :3

“fuck!”

you hit your head on the steering wheel. your car picked the best time to break down on the side of the road, when you’re in the middle of nowhere, and it’s night. you decided to ditch the car and hitchhike, grabbing all your things before walking down the asphalt.

you walked for about ten minutes until you saw a ranch on a side road up ahead. there were two horses sitting down in the hay, and the small house stood alone farther down. you took the chance, hoping that whoever lived there was kind enough to let you stay, or at least fix your car.

you had to hop the fence to get in, throwing your sack over and trying not to wake up the horses. when your sack hit the dirt, the horse immediately jumped up, neighing loudly and shaking itself off. you hopped down from the fence safely and started walking towards the house, you thought you were in the clear.

until you saw a light turn on in the house. it was too late to turn back, and hopping that fence took you a while. so you just decided to hide and hope for the best. you hid behind a hay bale, peeking your head out to see who was there.

a woman in a white tank top came out with her revolver drawn, looking for any intruders. “oh, shit!” you whispered to yourself, wishing you would’ve just slept in your car. she looked your direction, making you duck your head down. you stayed like that for a while until she was gone. tiptoeing carefully now, you made your way towards the house, looking for any signs of the armed woman.

the dirt crunched under your boots with every step, making your way to the porch. “freeze.” you heard a woman’s voice behind you. “drop the sack and turn around. put your hands where i can see ‘em.”

you obeyed, putting shaky hands up in the air. you turned around to see the same woman you were hiding from, the barrel of her gun pointed straight at you. “you make one move, and i put a bullet right between those pretty eyes.”

“please-”

“what’s the name of your gang?”

you gulped, all your words leaving your brain. all you could think about if your life was going to end or not. the woman cocked the revolver back when you were silent for too long. “the razortooth snakes!” your voice echoed through the night.

“you must be lyin’. you? in the razortooth snakes?”

“i can show you my badge, i swear.”

“pull it out. slowly.”

you pulled your badge out of the back pocket of your jeans, giving it to the woman. she snatched it harshly, her cigarette almost dropping out her mouth. “well, i’ll be damned.” she dropped the badge next to your sack. “what’s a little thing like you doing in there, huh?”

the razortooth snakes was the toughest gang in the wild west, the woman couldn’t even believe a member dared to step foot on her ranch. “i’m not sure, ma’am, i- w-what gang are you?” you sputter, her gun still raised. “the bronze serpents, ever since i can remember.” she pulled up her tank top, showing a tattoo of her gang in cursive on her stomach.

“well, that makes us rivals, don’t it?”

you nodded, sweating bullets. “please don’t shoot me.”

“explain why you’re on my ranch and maybe i won’t.”

“my-my car broke about half a mile down from here, and i’m really far from home. i just needed some tools for my car, or anything to fix it. that’s all, please ma’am-”

“don’t call me ma’am.” you flicked her cigarette on the dirt, squashing it with her boot. “it’s charlotte.”

she put the safety back on the revolver, slipping it in the back of her sleep shorts. “you got any weapons on you?”

you forgot you did have your revolver in your holster, but it wasn’t loaded. she opened up your denim vest, but you spoke before she even opened your mouth. “it’s not loaded. i used the last of my bullets today.”

“for what, exactly?”

lottie knew you couldn’t kill anyone, even if it came down to life and death. she took your gun, beginning to walk back into the house. “you coming or not?” her voice faded as she went away. you grabbed your sack and trailed behind her, your vest blowing in the desert wind.

“you woke my girl up.” charlotte closed the front door behind you. “oh, god, im so sorry-”

“don’t worry about it. gotta let her know we have company. take a seat ‘n don’t go nowhere.” she pointed, going down the dark hallway to the bedroom. you took a seat at the table, hugging your sack. you looked around at all the the decor, they even have a little fireplace. the whole house was just so cozy.

you heard another woman’s voice get closer and closer, but it was a little higher. she stopped in her tracks when she saw you. “this is shauna.” charlotte introduced and you did the same, tipping your hat to her in a polite manner. “what side of town ya from?” shauna leaned against the wall. you stared blankly, trying to think of a way to say this. lottie soon pulled her aside, walking back into the hallway.

“lottie, you brought a razortooth snake in my house?”

“keep your voice down! this one right here, wouldn’t even dare hurt a fly, shauna. i promise you.”

they talked about you like you weren’t even there, the hardwood floor slapping against shauna’s bare feet when she walked back over to you. she stared you up and down, putting her hands on her hips. “so, yous is really a razortooth.” shauna was warming up to you faster than she thought.

“is it that hard to believe?”

“oh trust me, it is.”

the woman walked closer, taking a seat in your lap. she put your hat on your head,

“what’s a hot piece of ass like you doin’ with them, darlin’?”

your mouth dropped, in shock and because of how embarrassed you got. “shauna,” lottie grabbed another cigarette out of her pocket, and her lighter as well. “let’s ask our guest something that’s a lil’ more pg rated, you got me, sugar?”

“what? it’s fine. you don’t mind, do you, punkin?”

“uh, no, it’s alright.” you smiled, telling them how you came up as a cowboy and what it’s really like as a razortooth. “it’s gettin’ late, now. time to hit the hay.” lottie looked at her watch, putting out her cigarette in the ashtray.

“y’know, you can sleep with us.”

“shauna-”

“lottie, we can’t leave him sleep on the couch out here, he’ll freeze. he can’t sleep with us for one night?”

“that’s why we have a perfectly good fireplace, hun.”

shauna just rolled her eyes, getting off your lap and leading you to the bedroom. the bed was in the middle of the room, scattered clothes and a pair of boots on the floor. “don’t listen to her. you can sleep here, darlin’. oh, you gotta take all those dirty clothes off. lottie’s not a big fan of dirty clothes in her bed.”

shauna was right about lottie’s rule, but the truth is that part of her wants to see you in you naked. “oh, yeah, no problem,” you buckled your pants and took off your vest, only leaving you in a tank top and your briefs.

“i got some tools to fix up your truck, i’ll give ‘em to you first thing in the morning.” lottie walked into the bedroom now, looking you up and down. “what’s those scars for?” she looked at your chest in curiosity, knowing she definitely meant no harm.

“bull fight.” you lied, scratching the back of your head. “must’ve been quite a fight.” she smiled, hanging her hat on the hook on the wall. “you gettin’ in or what?”

you stood at the foot of the bed, staring at the two women. “uh, yeah. yeah, i am.”

“well, what the hell are you waitin’ for?”

you crawled into the middle of the bed, sandwiched perfectly between the two. “comfortable?” charlotte turned off the lamp and you smiled, nodding in return. “thanks for this. really.”

“if this ever gets out, ya might be a dead man, mister. doesn’t that scare ya?” shauna whispered. “a little.” you were more than scared. you were petrified of your group ever finding out that you got friendly with the bronze serpents.

but you decided to enjoy this moment instead, curled up beside two (very sleepy) cowgirls.

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #lottie matthews #lottie matthews x reader #shauna shipman #shauna sadecki x reader #shauna shipman x reader #adult lottie #adult shauna #lottieshauna #lottie shauna x reader #lottieshauna x reader #lottie x shauna x reader #lottie x shauna

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thecapricunt1616 · 2 months

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Blue Lotus - SxC Fic - Chapter 2

♡ Summary: Carmy & Syd go horseback riding!!! Carmy's therapy friends push him to go for what he wants, his 'light at the end of the tunnel'

♡ W/C: 6,534

♡ Posted Date: 04/07/2024

♡ A/N: Hayoooo!!! I am too inspired... this has become a multi-chap fic hahaha I am havin' so much fun here!! Thank you @gingergofastboatsmojito for inspiring me to keep going!!! ILY! As per usual please know - this fic was inspired by THIS FIC here - Tucson by the GLORIOUS GINGER!!!! Go read that before you even THINK about reading this fic ok?! I love how I hate storer for the same reasons but im a sucker for writing a slowburn - I find myself screaming at MYSELF internally "make them kiss already!!!!" but they will KISSSS SHORTLY SO SHORTLY MY DEARSSSS !!! It will be a JUICY TAYLOR SWIFT DAYLIGHT ASS KISS OK!!!! THEY WILL ONLY SEE EACHOTHER FROM THEN ON!!!! Its gonna be a 'and I can still see it all in my mind all of you all of me intertwined I USED TO THINK LOVE WOULD BE BLACK AND WHITE BUT ITS GOLDENNNNNNN. We need Carmy to realize a few more things but then - he will be hozier level devoted to this woman even more then he already is, I hope you enjoy!!

♡ Warnings for BTC: Not really any? Like? LOL - Swearing?! Smoking cigarettes?! They just went horseback riding & carmy went to therapy- oh Ig talks of carmy getting hard LMAO but thats as crazy as we get this chapter. ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ♡

Stardust nudges his shoulder so hard he almost falls over, and he turns to look at her. His heart jumped into his throat, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. She was there, she was really there.

“Uh-” he blinked a few times, to be sure that she wouldn’t disappear. “Syd? Hey..uh-” he felt his entire body buzzing with excitement. He couldn’t help the smile that took over his features. She looked… gorgeous. Carmen wasn’t sure there actually was a word in any human language ever to exist that could describe just how wonderful she looked.

Her hair was in its natural state, she was wearing an adorable corduroy jacket, black jeans, and white sneakers. “You came to a farm…in those?” he motions to her shoes.

She laughs a bit “Wow- it’s great to see you too, Carm. Didn’t realize you were…actually like living on a farm” she approached him carefully.

“Shit- yes- fuck- It’s its so good to see you, Syd, C’mere” he pulls her into a tight, long hug. The smell of her lavender vanilla perfume nearly made him melt.

“You’re like…tan- and…muscley now” She laughs a bit, squeezing his arm lightly.

“Uh..” he pulled away, cheeks bright red. “Yeah uh.. It's like- fuckin hard t’ride a horse. And the um…” he rubbed his neck nervously “The uh cows.. They eat hay? Most the time, and so we need to move the bales during the morning for em, they’re like…. 75? 80 pounds? So moving like 10 back and forth every day helps. And I dont really.. Go inside? Here? Its like… uh.. Thats the therapy mostly, the animals- at least f’me” he said sheepishly.

She nodded, looking around the stable. “That one behind you is yours? Shes been side-eying me creepily since I started talking” she pointed to Stardust.

“Oh! Fuck sorry yea, well- no…not- not mine- I got ‘er t’trust me. But uh, yeah this is Stardust. She’s a super sweet girl” He explained. Stardust leaned in, sniffing Syds hair carefully.

“Cute- All you’re missing is a hat” She teased.

He chuckled a bit, “Ok, c’mon - why are you here, Syd” He said with a small smile, crossing his arms over his chest.

She shrugged, looking at the ground and kicking a rock out of the way with her shoe. “Cause…I was worried- I dunno…” She definitely wasn't going to get bold and tell him that she’d missed him, terribly.

“Ok…well now that y’here, and y’see i’m okay…wanna have some fun?” He asked, a small smile on his lips.

Syd looked back up at him, as if he had 3 heads. “Okay- Where is Carmen Berzatto- Not his… Weird alien clone- Camren Brazota” she said, laughing a bit “what do you mean fun?” She asked, and Carmy laughed, real, and genuine.

“Well- If I didn’t change my view a little I’d never leave. So, yes, Syd, ‘a little fun never hurt noone’ - per my therapist. Shes fuckin annoying. I much prefer the horses.” He pet Star’s mane and she leaned into his touch.

“Holy shit” Syd laughed a bit. “Wow- alright. I feel like you’re a whole new man already, what kind of fun?” she mused.

“Ever ridden a horse?” he walked over to the saddle rack, pulling off a double seated one and hanging it over the back of the stall door.

“No- Actually, Don’t I need um…like - stuff for it?” she asked.

“Oh don’t think I wont give you the full experience” he opened the riding closet, “Whats your shoe size?” he asked, crouching down and looking through the pairs of extras.

“8? Er- 9 probably 9” she said. He dug through them until he found a matching pair.

“These should do, y’stuff is cool here we can just leave it in her stall” he told her, holding out his arm for her to hold while she switched her shoes.

“You seem like…” she said as she slipped off her sneaker and put on the boot. “I dunno…chill- well- i wont go that far- but chill-er then before.” Carm snorted a laugh, holding on to her arm to steady her.

“Thanks? I guess..that’s good right?” He asked.

“Yeah! Yeah of course…I mean, it’s nice. To see you not so…anxious.” She said, slipping the other boot on.

“Yeah I um…” he cleared his throat, opening the stall door. “I uh..I’m takin meds- Now? Uh..all this shit. Y’know they have me like tranquilized more then these guys” he said and she laughs, Carmen smiled proudly at the fact, relishing in the wonderful sound.

“But yeah like Like 3 er..er 4. they say I had all this uh..mental shit. Goin’ on w’me and that’s why I was all…wound up I guess” he explained, calling Star out and getting her harness situated.

Syd caught herself staring at his arms as he worked, how the toned muscle moved beneath the fabric of the shirt.

“Aren’t you freezing?” She asked, noticing he wasn’t wearing a jacket like she was.

“Used to it now, well- I mean the moving around. It gets hot this shit is heavy. Wanna try to hold the saddle?” He asked, unhooking the saddle from the stall door where he’d left it momentarily.

“It can’t be that bad” she countered.

“I think this thing weighs probably as much as you do.” He said “hold out your arms” he smiled a bit.

She lifted her arms out in front of her and he plops the saddle down, she had to plant one of her feet forward so she didn’t fall face first due to the sudden weight and he laughed, catching the saddle quickly and baring most the weight.

“Told you” he teased.

She rolled her eyes “yeah whatever. Saddle up the horse, cowboy” she dropped the saddle back in his arms. He hurled the saddle over Stars back with a grunt.

“Fuckin hell” he huffed, realizing since the saddle was nearly double the weight as his usual, and being on the shorter end- he couldn’t just get it on her when she was standing straight. “Bow” he told the horse and she just stared at Sydney.

“Don’t embarrass me, Star. Bow” he told her and she looked the other way.

“So uhhh…this one’s trained, huh?” Sydney teased.

Carmen looked back at her “mmhmm maybe she doesn’t like strangers” he said, walking over to the other side.

“Since she’s bein difficult y’gonna have T’help. C’mere” he waved her over and she followed. “So when I push it up, just grab the saddle pad and make sure it doesn’t move, yea?” He asked.

“The fuck is a saddle pad, dude- I know my way around a kitchen not a fuckin horse stable.” She looked at the many different layers the horse was already wearing.

“Alright. So this,” he lifted the cloth, “is her blanket. Keeps her core warm. And beneath it” he pats the pad “this is her saddle pad, it makes it more comfortable. So our bones aren’t like..diggin in her back and shit. Also shock, when she jumps the foam of it helps our weight disperse. The saddle is so big and heavy I can’t keep the pad still at the same time, so just hold it f’me,” he took her hand, guiding it to where he wanted her to hold.

She felt her heartbeat quicken, his hands were so large and calloused on top of her own. She nodded wordlessly, keeping her eyes trained on where she was meant to be holding and focusing on keeping it steady as he went back around and carefully lifted up the heavy saddle with a grunt, laying it over the horses back.

“Jesus- how much can this thing carry” Syd asked.

“Well she is a mare, she weighs about…mmm- 1900? She can comfortably hold about 400 pounds for a decent distance but she can’t do that for hours and hours at a time. We together can’t be more then 300, and her gear is less then 100 pounds. Were just goin f’r a quick ride, I gotta get to therapy at 3” he explained as he buckled on her saddle.

“Ah. So you’ve been memorizing horse information instead of creating recipes? I figured when I got here you’d have gone nuts by now without being in a kitchen so long” she gently touched the horses mane as she spoke.

“Maybe. Well…I am kinda goin crazy? But I can’t…let it out?” He chuckled a bit “does that make sense? Nights are a little hard before my sleep meds kick in but that just says I haven’t done enough that day” he got up. “So y’gettin up first since I’m sittin in back” he explained.

“Oh…uh- ok how do I?” She asked looking up at the at least 7 foot tall animal.

“Y’not gonna be able to do it alone. C’mere” he told her. She comes over and looks at him.

“How the fuck do you do this?” She looked up at the saddle that was at the top of her head before looking back at him.

“So-“ he snorts a laugh at her wide confused expression. “She’s not gonna like you trying to roll up on her back, and I don’t want you t’get thrown off, she can be moody with new people. I almost broke my shoulder my first time trying to ride her” he said and she crossed her arms slightly.

“So how. How do I get up there?” She asked. He pulled out a step stool, setting it next to the horse and getting up on the third step.

“I’m giving you a lift. Arms up” he said with a playful smirk.

“No- no way- Carmen that’s too high. You’ll drop me!!” She took a step back, feeling slightly nervous.

“I won’t because I’ll bribe her Syd. C’mere” he pulled a pack of peep marshmallows out of his pocket and the horse nearly starts dancing.

“Carm- what the fuck is happening?” She asked and Carmy chuckled.

“Bow. Cmon Syd wants t’ride. Bow and you’ll get y’treat star.” He told the horse.

It obediently bowed down and before Syd could process what was happening, Carm was scooping her up beneath her arms Syd squealed in surprise. “Oh my GOD WHY ARE YOU PICKING ME UP!” She shrieked, wiggling in his arms.

“open y’legs! Cmon! she’s gonna get up!!!” Carmen laughed holding her up higher. Syd finally obeyed and he gently plopped her on the first saddle. “Good girl” he told the horse, feeding her the marshmallow and putting the packet in his pocket again before swiftly getting on behind Syd.

“Alright. Hard part done.” He reached around her waist, and she lifted her arms slightly.

“What- can you tell me what’s going on? I’m a horse virgin!” She said, and they both went quiet for a moment, before cracking up laughing. Syd leaned to her left slightly as she tried catching her breath, grabbing the rein for stability and tugging.

Star took off sprinting, Syd screamed in surprise, her body going tight with fear. Carmen quickly wrapped his arms around Syds waist protectively, tugging on the reigns “WOOOOAH!” He called to Star and she quickly came to a stop.

“Stand.” He told the horse firmly.

“What the fuck Carm I thought she was trained!” Syd exclaimed, gripping onto his forearms for dear life.

“I gotchu, you think I’d let her kick you off?” He tightened his arms around her. Carmen swore his heart was thumping so hard that she felt it on her shoulder blade.

“Also when she moves it’s hard to keep still.” She said nervously.

“Don’t worry, I gotchu, Syd. Lean into me, if our weight is centered then it’ll be easier for all 3 of us” he gently pushed at her stomach.

She leaned back into his broad chest, “see” he said softly. He was lucky the angle didn’t allow for her to see him, because his face was bright red, And having her body pressed against his…was making him flush somewhere else too.

He clicked his tongue and Stardust started walking again, at an easy comfortable trot. “This…is ok.” She said, much more comfortable now.

“I’m gonna take you t’one of my favorite spots.” He said, pulling on the reins to the left lightly so she would follow the left trail.

“Wow, already sharing secret spots huh? I think this therapist may just be Doctor of the year I don’t even think I’ve seen your favorite Chicago spots” she teased.

Carm laughed a bit, he felt so much lighter with Syd around. And life had been lighter ever since he got here.

“How is…uh- how is it back home?” He cleared his throat lightly. It was something that had being weighing on him. Yes, he was here, he was doing the thing. He was making Sugar happy. He was making Syd happy…but he would go back, at some point.

And his biggest fear was things will just go right back. He won’t have this outlet, he won’t have sunset rides with Stardust to ease his mind. He won’t have the cows happily running up to him and greeting him when he was the first one to bring out a bale of hay. He felt like if he was here, he may have the confidence to tell Syd how he feels. But back home? It was another life.

“Fine..things are..y’know. The usual shit. But nothing bad, no one’s getting locked in any freezers if that’s what you mean” she said playfully.

Carm rolled his eyes with a light smile. “Mmhmm. So the restaurant is-“

“Is fine.” She said. “I’d have told you. You know that.” She said and he nodded a bit.

“I know she scared you back there…but it’s pretty fun to go fast. You wanna try?” He asked.

She shifted a bit uncomfortably, her hands tightening around his arms that were holding the reins around her waist. “Uhh…maybe? Are you sure we won’t fall off?” She questioned.

“I’m sure. Here you can be the one to control it. Start light ok? With your legs.” He gently ran his hands down her thighs to right below her knees “here” he said softly, squeezing the flesh gently so she wouldn’t have to lean and look. “With that part of your legs, give her a little squeeze. But really light, or we’ll take out of here like a bat out of hell” he held around her waist again, securely holding the reins.

“Mmhmm” she said, she was beginning to feel hot- and not because she’d done any hard work in regards to getting the horse ready.

“Alright. Whenever you’re ready, you’re the boss” he said the last part softly in her ear. If it wasn’t for her jacket, he would see the goosebumps that had risen on her arms. She nodded quickly, staring straight ahead and trying to maintain her composure.

“So I just?” She squeezed gently and the horse picks up her speed slightly. “Oh…ok” she said.

“Told y’she was trained” Carmy teased and she rolls her eyes.

“Mmm you’ve done a very good job, bribing this horse with peeps. The staff know you do this?” She asked. Carmy snorted a laugh

“No. But she’s healthy. Made sure. She only gets one or 2 if she doesn’t listen.” He admitted.

She shook her head with a smile. “And how’d you find this out, Carm?” She leaned into him once more.

“I…” he laughed a bit, his chest vibrating with the movement and it made her heart warm.

“I uh…spent a few days in the library here. Reading up. After she threw me off. It’s all about trust with em. So I never lied to ‘er and I’ve never done something she didn’t expect because I always try to warn her.” He said, pulling her reigns a bit tighter.

“This is like a joyride Syd cmon, I said fast not an evening stroll.” He teased.

“Fine. Mister horse master- show me what Miss Stardust can do.” She said.

With 2 kisses and a quick tap of his heel, they were off like a rocket. He held Syd steady, being sure she wouldn’t have to do most the work of holding herself center as he gripped each reign with the opposite hand, holding them taught so Star knew to keep going.

Syd laughed, the wind flicking her dark curls all around. He wished she could see her amused expression. “Holy shit this is the best!” She shouted over the loud thuds of Stars hoofbeats.

“I know right! Can you believe she can go faster?” He said, holding his knees taut around her hips to keep her from sliding.

“Okay we are not! This is fine!” She said and sat up a bit “are we going into the-” She asks as Star begins to barrel through a creek, the freezing water spraying up and around them getting them slightly wet, the freezing water splashing from their calves up to their cheeks.. “CARMY!” She screams through laughter.

He could barely catch his breath as he laughed so hard his stomach and ribs ached. “I’m sorry!! Syd! Oh god-“ he chuckled “woah girl- woah” he called to the course and she slowed down once again to a stop.

“Fuck-“ Carmen chuckled “you okay?” He asked, picking a wet leaf from her jacket and throwing it to the forest floor.

“Yeah- I’m.. I’m fine. That was really fun actually. C’mon I wanna see the spot” she said and took it upon herself to tug the reins so Star would take off again

“Shi-it!” He quickly finds his balance, “warn me!! Oh god I almost flew off!!” He told her.

“You think I’d let her throw you off?” She mimics him from earlier and he takes the chance to playfully pinch her waist

“Yes because who’s in back and who’s in front?” He wrapped his arms around her again, taking the reins from her grasp. “Your reign privileges have been revoked for this riding lesson, Ms.Adamu”

She laughed a bit “I’ll earn them back. Don’t worry” she mused.

“Mmm we need to talk about more shit before I just literally hand the reins over. Coulda spooked her and we’d be fuckin dead.” he angled the outside reigns so she’d slow down as they came to the clearing.

“Here we are” he hopped off, raising his arms to help her down.

She carefully reached out for him and he lifted her off, gently setting her down. “Holy fuck Carmy” she turned around, watching the waterfall cascade down over the rocks.

“Right! Told you. It’s a fire spot” he went over to one of the rocks he usually sat at, plopping down and taking out a cigarette. “Oh- shit- can’t have y’running off” he told Stardust and chuckled, leaving the cigarette between his lips as he walked over to her, guiding her over to the tree, and hooking her right rein around a branch before sitting back down.

“Yeah…I can’t remember the last time I went somewhere so…” she trailed off, looking at all the trees and running water.

“Green?” Carmy lit his cigarette, taking a drag. “Not packed with smog? Somewhere that doesn’t smell like shit.” He said as he exhaled.

“…yeah” she said and laughed a bit. “Yeah. Guess that’s it.” She came and sat next to him. “What did you mean about her getting scared?” She asked curiously.

“Oh- a scared horse will fucking kill you. Not on purpose, but they’re big and pure muscle, and will do anything to get away from danger. I scared the shit out of her one time, that was it. Dislocated my shoulder 8th day here. Doing that hurts like a bitch by the way.” He rolled his shoulder gently.

“How’d you manage that? God I knew you were shit at chatting up girls but she dislocated your shoulder?” She teased.

He rolled his eyes with a playful smile, taking another drag. “Yes, I was fuckin around on the trail, dunno why- but there was this branch sticking out so I grabbed it, it snapped, she fuckin reeeared dude. I flew back so hard. My back might still be bruised I’m not sure. Still hurts a little to laugh” he said.

“You better have seen a doctor” she said.

“Ohhh silly Syd.” He sighed, a puff of smoke filling the air in front of him. “We aren’t allowed to refuse treatment here. If you get hurt, and you refuse to get help, it’s considered self harm, which leads to them believing you have suicidal ideation, which leads to you being locked in the actual nuthouse. So yes. I willingly went to the doctor daily for a week. And now, I’m being checked on once a week. So yeah. Oh and therapy daily. And every day I’m given my meds and someone checks over ‘pre-existing injuries’ which that is now considered. So yeah. I’m good. I’m fuckin fine as fine can be.” He said.

“Awww poor little chef, being taken care of so well that’s so hard isn’t it?” She teased and he gives her a playful glare, but couldn’t help but crack a smile when he realized she was smiling too.

“I was being taken care of fine at home by myself but you and my sister just had to ship me off after one tiny accident” he leaned back on his hand, taking another drag of his cigarette.

“It stops becoming an accident when you didn’t care, Carm. You didn’t care. It didn’t phase you. You weren’t even…you weren’t even scared. Just because you didn’t do it on purpose doesn’t mean you did the sane thing which would have been doing everything you could to not let something like that happen.” She said, her tone suddenly serious.

He looked down at his lap, swallowing thickly. He suddenly felt all of the armor he’d spent the last 31 days chipping at, slowly start to meld back together and shell him back in at the shame the whole situation was making him feel.

“I have nightmares…you know. About it. What happened” she said quietly, and he could physically feel his heart ripping open.

The only sound between them was the bubbling stream, and the sounds of their even breaths.

“I’m sorry.” He said quietly, gaze fixed on his lap knowing he would burst into tears at the admission she’d been so deeply plagued by something he’d done, if he had looked at her.

“I know” was all she said, gently resting her hand on top of his. He felt the same fireworks exploding in his chest that he only ever felt when she was around.

“Do you um…” he clears his throat and shook his head, embarrassed by the question plaguing his mind. “Never mind it’s..it’s stupid.” He removed his hand, putting his cigarette in it and resting the hand opposite of her on the rock.

“That usually means it’s not stupid. What?” She coaxed, bumping his knee with hers gently.

“It’s stupid” he said again, shrugging his shoulders.

“It can’t be stupider then asking me what UPS means” She said playfully. He rolled his eyes, smiling and looking over at her.

“And what if it is?” He questioned.

“I would be..worried they’re giving you a bad concoction of meds that’s turning your glorious chef brain in to Swiss cheese” she teased

He snorts a laugh. “I was gonna ask..if you wanted to cook..t’night. My cabin…it uh- has a kitchen? I haven’t cooked in a month. They give us food so I haven’t really bothered but…seeing you makes me miss it more, I guess” he blushed, looking back down at his lap.

“Well obviously. Not gonna let you eat whatever bullshit they’ve been giving you while I’m around.” She said and he shook his head, meeting her gaze once more with a playful smirk.

“Maybe you should check in. My therapist says it’s bad apparently to feel ‘responsible for others’ - says it’s a ‘subconscious self harming behavior’ “ he teased.

She smiled a bit. “Okay- say I do. How about, I check in now, we shoot the shit for what- eleven more days- then, you go back home- and see how stressful it is in that restaurant when one of your hands is basically missing” she plucked the cigarette bud he’d forgotten about from between his fingers before it burnt him, flicking it into the creek.

“You know that’s the first time I’ve seen you smoke- other then…me like checking on you when you were about to explode at work. But you’ve never…pulled one out and smoked it I guess” she said, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her cheek on her forearm as she looked at him.

“Oh…” he said, pulling one of his legs up and resting his arm on it. “Didn’t realize you noticed” he said, brushing some dirt off his jeans.

“I notice a lot of stupid shit about you, it’s kinda annoying honestly.” She said without thinking, her eyes widening when she realized and she looked the other way, resting her other cheek on her knee and squeezing her eyes shut.

Why would you ever say that?! She asked herself internally.

“Oh?” He said again, smiling a bit. “You do?” He questions, but that was as far as he’d push.

“Mhm” was all she responded. Carmys phone started buzzing in his pocket and he pulled it out in case it was one of the ‘base keepers’ they called them. Carmy rather call them babysitters. He knew what they were for, being sure if they were out of sight too long they were making sure they could still get ahold of them.

He sighed in relief when he saw it was just his 2:40 alarm. “Gotta go” he stood up, offering his hand to Syd. “Like- now. Or my ass is getting chewed out.”

The ride back to the cabins was mostly silent. He had no stool this time, so he had to pick up Syd essentially by the ass and gently place her on Stars back so she didn’t get spooked.

He was embarassed as fuck that the tiny action had the crotch region of his jeans tightening more then was casually explainable. Thank god no one was around to see him awkwardly hop in the way of his semi hard third leg down his left pant leg, grunting but covering it with a dry cough when she settled her ass back into him to ‘center their gravity’

Syd absolutely felt the firmness pressing into her ass. She thought it was a bit funny, but also brushed it off to the strange friction that came with riding a horse. She couldn’t allow herself to fully believe his teenage like excitement was due to her, or she’d go insane.

Carmy dropped Syd off at his cabin, giving her the key and telling her he’d put up Stardust and be back by 5, she would be blushing if it weren’t for her mahogany complexion at the domesticity of it all - er what she could imagine domesticity with Carmy would feel like.

Her panties were also soaked through from the feeling of his enormous length pressed into the curve of her ass - the entire way back - but she just chalked that up to not getting laid for a few months, and misreading his natural arousal for him being horny- she quickly pushed the thought down and just chalked it up to the horse. Because guys get hard when they ride horses…right? Right?!

Carmen arrived to therapy extremely frustrated, and extremely ready to talk. He sat down in his regular spot in the back, tapping his knee nervously and covering his crotch with his hands. Luckily, thinking about his mother was enough to make him soft nearly instantly so he had that to thank her for at least.

“Alright guys!” Julienne, the usual Friday therapist came in, sitting in her spot in the circle. “Who is up today! We are-“ she looks at her iPad “oh! Yes this is another OP class, so- no pressure but, I wanna hear what’s goin on!” She crossed her legs.

Julie was far from his favorite therapist, at Blue Lotus. But he wasn’t his least favorite. So he would still talk. He cleared his throat, raising his hand slightly.

“Carmy?! What a treat! Okay what’s up” she grabbed her little stylus pencil. He bit the inside of his lip nervously. He despised how casual she tried to make this all feel.

“Uh…so- my um…business partner, she came to see me. I guess I haven’t been…keeping touch? Enough? She just said she was worried…” he cleared his throat again, gaze fixed on his lap. “And uh…I’m startin’ t’-t’realize stuff?” He sniffled nervously, rubbing his mouth with slightly clammy, nervous hands.

“She uh..” he chuckled a bit. “She…she just…showed up. Didn’t hear shit from ‘er. She probably knew that I’d uh…I’d tell ‘er no?” He finally meets the gaze of Julie.

“Okay. You know guests are allowed right? Like- during the visiting hours, 6am to 11pm, no fraternizing between patients but-“ Carmen cuts her off

“We aren’t - no. Not fraternizing” He shook his head. “But uh…today? We were- we were sitting. This spot, near uh, Jupiter point? On the north side. And I had this- this urge T-to tell her…everything.” He shook his head, looking at the floor again.

“So…you wanted to tell her you love her?” Jesse, one of the guys he’d had lunch with a few times piped up.

“T’be honest, I don’t know.” Carmen said honestly, looking at him.

“Well what does it feel like?” Jesse asked, sitting up a bit.

“What? Like- what does what feel like?” Carmen asked curiously.

“Her. Being with her. Talking to her? Inside. Like. Your chest. Your skin?” He questioned.

“Uh…” Carmen sat back, swallowing thickly and crossing his arms over his chest. He thought for a moment.

“Hot. I get hot. All over. My chest feels tight but - but good? Like- a hug almost. And then…when she…” he blushed, looking down with a shy smile. “When she touches me” he shook his head slightly. “When she touches me it’s like um.. fireworks? Like fireworks beneath my skin.” He chuckled a bit at how cheesy it sounded.

“And you haven’t fucking nailed her?” Jessie asked plainly.

Carmen furrowed his brows, glaring at him. “No” he clenched his jaw “I haven’t.” He snips.

“Dude- you are- pussy whipped with no pussy?! You- you love her, Carmen. You love this chick. I feel like I’m looking in a weird straight mirror - the first time-“ he laughed a bit “the first time I kissed a guy- god. He was so hot. But I had no idea! I had no idea. I really thought that I was just-“ he shook his head “that I was just wanting to befriend him? Or something? But like- I wanted to fuck him. And when I did kiss him? Something unlocked in my brain dude. It was like…like a whole new world. I felt like I knew - I knew what love could feel like? Just ‘cause of that one kiss “ he shrugged.

Carmen looked at him, arms crossed, trying to absorb everything he was saying even though every fiber of his former self was screaming to take it with nothing more than a grain of salt.

“Kiss her dude. Kiss her.” Jesse said and sat back in his chair.

“Well. Although, consensual sexual instances are against the code of conduct to discuss - I am very proud to see you two coming out of your shells. Has anyone else felt… confused in their romantic endeavors and would like to share?” Julie asked.

Carmen crossed his arms tighter, looking down at his lap. This was quite unusual for him, he was one of the patients to only add what he had to to be credited during inpatient, and during outpatient - only spoke when he really and honestly had to.

“Uh-“ the super tall girl, Shayna sits up. Carmen was never really sure why she was here. She looked…perfect by all means. Perfect skin, perfect nails, pretty face, long blonde hair, a perfect body by girl standards. Or at least what Carmen had understood of them.

“Not really the same.. but before I came out? I like…I would uh buy…girl clothes. That I liked. For my girlfriends at the time…” she blushed “and um.. I realized after a while that I liked them. And I wasn’t just..wanting to see my girlfriend in them. And like- it’s not the exact same, but when he said… about how Jesse realized he wanted the guy. That’s how I felt when I finally tried the clothes on” she shrugged.

Carmen was…aghast. He just simply stared at her. He’d never met- or thought- he’d ever met a trans person before today. But…Shayna?

Well- he was wrong because he had met her, they actually knew each other fairly well as far as patients go, she joined the program when he did. When they first met, she’d made a joke about how they were the tallest girl and shortest guy in the class, so that meant they were bound to be friends, since opposites attract - and that earned a chuckle out of him before his meds had even fully evened out.

“I love the cis-and-confused look- it’s cute” she said and laughed a bit. Carmen blushed, smiling a bit.

“Not confused- well, maybe. Maybe a little. Y’Just so…dainty? I dunno..” he shrugged.

“In case you haven’t noticed- mr.little man syndrome- you’re only one out with the cows doing the hay on time in the morning. Ninty percent of the group is your version of dainty ” Jesse teased.

“Jesse” Julie gives him the look. “I’d assume that means- the rest of you that aren’t out helping with the bales- are scraping out the cow pens? Since Carmen is doing all the hard work according to you.”

“I’m not girl- fuck no! The second I got out of inpatient house arrest? I walked my happy ass down to Walmart and bought me some blackout curtains. I recommend those to all of you! Oh my god and some ear plugs!! The stupid fucking roosters! Worst 15 days of my lifeee! I’m never coming back here peace and love to you all though. Truly. Can’t stand this cow shit stank ass place.” Shayna said dramatically, causing Carmen to chuckle a bit.

He had loved her boldness since they’d met. If Shayna didn’t want to do something- she wasn’t doing it. He learned that the day the staff tried to force her on anti-depressants. One of the main therapists got a Wellbutrin straight to the eye, they never attempted that battle the same way again.

“We know Shayna you aren’t shoveling scat, princesses don’t do that” Jesse mocked her valley girl tone.

“Okay! Okay. Alriiiight! Back on track- done with the bickering!” Julie said. “Now that open call is over let’s move on to breakthroughs. This issss-“ she looks at her iPad “ah- yes! D group. So. That makes it-“ he checks her watch “ah- right. 11 days! How are your light tunnel projects going?” She questioned.

Carmen’s chest tightened, but not in the Syd is smiling or he made Syd laugh way- in the - I haven't done something I was meant to do way.

The Light Tunnel project wasn’t hard. It was simply one thing you have done that you had wanted to do when you came into the program. And Carmy knew what his answer was,

Admit how he felt to Sydney.

Or, as his Therapist- Mandy told him ‘become more truthful with yourself and those you know about how you feel’ because “counting on someone to like him back would put him at square one” he had pretended to understand, but knew that he had to tell her and soon - or he was going to really go insane.

“ my light tunnel was to talk to my asshole father- but lucky for me I just caught wind the motherfucker finally died thank god. So by default I win and don’t have to be here anymore cause his abandonment was what fucked me up anyhow“ Shayna said jokingly, causing Carm to snort a laugh. He knew she was only joking about the leaving early part, not the father part. Her father was an even bigger piece of shit then Carmen’s was, he had come to learn.

“Mmm that isn’t how it works we know that Shayna. We’ll talk more about this in one to one “ Julie told her and Shayna crossed her long legs, looking out the window.

The last 20 minutes of the session Carmen sat silently, looking out the opposite window to Shayna, watching the horses running around in the field before they got called in for dinner and just spacing out, thinking about what he may say to Syd.

“Yo - Carm space cadet” Shayna said before kicking his boot he jumped a bit, looking up at them both and had realized the room since had cleared and Julie was preparing for her next session.

“Shit.” He said “how long have I been like…like that?” He asked, his cheeks feeling hot.

“It’s the OCD meds. They get you stuck in a happy thought loop sometimes. Are you just gonna sit here? You wanna do another hour of this with sniveling group a? They got here three days ago.” Jesse said. Carm shook his head, getting up.

“No- no sorry” he said starting with them outside. Shayna laughed a bit

“You were thinking of screwing that business partner aren’t you. “ she said, causing Carmys cheeks to go pinker.

“Shayna shut up!” Jesse scolded, pushing her shoulder lightly.

“Awwww carmyyy are your feelings hurt little buddy? Do you need a hug? Jesus men are such pussys” she pushed open the doors of the therapy cabin for them.

“Let me see pictures of this hot chick. If you don’t fuck her I will and I bet I’d do a better job” Shayna teased as they started heading back towards the cabins.

Carmen couldn’t even process what she said as he felt his breath get caught in his chest, he saw her. She was sitting on the porch of his cabin, criss-cross in one of the rocking chairs as she writes in her notebook. He couldn’t help but stop and stare at the way the setting sun hit her bronze skin, her curls casting intricate patterned shadows on the wood. He felt his heart pick up, his chest squeezing in that way, the way that only happened when he saw her.

Shayna and Jesse stopped after a few moments when they realized Carm had gotten stuck behind. They both follow his gaze carefully to see what he was so fixed on, like a trance.

“Holy fuuuck!!! Holy fuck how did I get this lucky!! She’s here? She’s here still?!” Shana asked excitedly, “oh my god- you’re getting laid- tonight” she excitedly skips up to the cabin and Syd looks up, locking eyes with her before seeing Carmen just a few paces behind. “I’m Shayna! Do you and Carm wanna hang out with us tonight?”

➵ 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ♡♡♡

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