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hopelesslyromanticgay · 2 years ago

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Stars Around My Scars

Tara Carpenter x Gn!Swiftie!reader

TW: references to PTSD, insecurities.

where the reader helps Tara accept her scars as part of herself

Y/N was the type of person to always be drawing while a song played in their headphones.

Today, they were sitting on their bed listening to Folklore on shuffle, their girlfriend, Tara’s, head in their lap.

They desperately wanted to grab a sharpie and write all over themself, an old habit, but didn’t want to disturb the beautiful girl in their lap. It’s hard to just do one thing, and aimlessly doodling always helped calm their nerves.

In an attempt to find something to preoccupy themselves with, they subconsciously slip their hand into Tara’s and start caressing it. Tara jerked up at the unexpected touch.

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” they apologized, “is it okay that I’m doing this?” Tara nodded slowly. Y/N looked down at her, smiling, “I’m never gonna hurt you.”

That was all of the reassurance Tara had needed. She immediately settled back into Y/N’s lap. Y/N loved when Tara wanted them to hold her in their arms. They ruffled Tara’s adorable bangs, kissing her forehead. She giggles and mumbles something unintelligible into Y/N’s chest.

It was getting late, and the temperature on the thermostat reader had gone down.

“Y/N/N, I’m cold,” Tara whined, pulling them closer, earning a warm hug from their partner.

“Do you want some hot cocoa?” they asked. Tara nodded happily.

Y/N got up, busying themself with making the best hot cocoa their girlfriend would ever have.

They got out the good cocoa powder and favorite mug, which said “it’s a love story, baby just say yes! (to this cup of coffee),”in excitement, they’d been waiting to use this flavoring, but wanted to use up their old packets first. After brewing the drink, they got out marshmallows and whipped cream. It was almost like they were a little kid again.

“Cocoa’s ready” they beamed proudly, walking into their bedroom with the cocoa. Tara’s hands trembled vigorously from the cold, so naturally when she took the drink, it tipped and spilled onto her shirt.

She winced at the pain from the hot liquid’s collision with her skin.

“Oh shit, Tara,” Y/N worried, immediately grabbing a napkin and drying her off, “are you okay? Do you want a new shirt?”

“I’m fine, honey,” she reassured them, “a new shirt might be nice, though.”

“I’m going to make sure you don’t have a burn anyway,” they said.

“Is this your well thought out plot to see me without a shirt?” Tara smirked.

Y/N blushed a bright shade of red, “I just wanna make sure you’re okay.”

They gently folded back Tara’s blouse, exposing the red, but unburnt skin. Tara immediately placed her hand over a certain area on her stomach.

“Are you in pain?” her partner asked worriedly.

“I’m fine,” Tara snapped. Y/N pulled away.

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to sound rude,” Tara clarified.

“It’s okay,” Y/N cupped her cheek, “I’ll get you a new shirt now.” They lightly kissed her nose before getting up to go to their closet and got Tara’s favorite shirt to steal. It was a soft material, very comfortable for sleeping. The shirt itself was a t-shirt from Taylor Swift’s reputation tour. It was black, with a green cartoon snake hissing at a telephone.

“Here you go Tar,” they handed it to her.

“Thanks,” she smiled, and started to lift her dirtied shirt off, exposing her scarred stomach.

This was the first time her partner had seen her scars. They knew about what happened at Woodsboro not too long ago, but had never seen the physical damages it had done to her.

“Tara,” they started to say. The smaller brunette quickly realized what was going on and covered them with her hands.

“You don’t need to cover them for me,” they said softly.

“But they’re ugly,” she cried.

“They’re hardly ugly Tara,” they reassured her, “they show how strong you are. Your scars are your history. You wouldn’t be where you are or who you are today if you hadn’t gotten them.” She burst into tears, Y/N could tell she was hurting. Maybe not physically, but she was definitely hurting.

“How does that not make them ugly.”

“Because everything about you is beautiful. Your past, your present, your future.” She blushed at the compliment.

“Can I hold you?” Tara nodded. They pushed away all of her fears and insecurities, wrapping their arms around her, peppering her face with kisses.

“You’re beautiful,” they repeated over and over, “you always will be.” They held her close and they held her tight. They racked their brain for any way to make the broken girl in their arms feel better.

An idea soon popped into their head.

“Hey Tara,” they started, “can I try something?”

“Y/N, this is hardly the time for… that.”

“No!” they realize the implications behind what they just said, “nothing sexual.” Tara gave her permission with a nod.

“Don’t put the shirt on just yet.”

“It’s not sexual but you need my shirt off?” she raises an eyebrow.

“Just trust me, please?”

Y/N got up from the bed where the two had been cuddled next to each other, already missing the warmth their girlfriend surrounded them with. They made their way over to the desk when they found it. They grabbed the pencil case and took out a sharpie.

Tara had lay down in her partner’s absence, perfect for what Y/N was planning.

“This might tickle a little,” they uncap the pen, and started to draw on her stomach.

“What are you doing, cutie?” she asked.

“Drawing stars around your scars,” they replied, innocently.

“Alright, that’s enough Taylor Swift for you!” she giggled.

“You don’t like it?”

“No! Don’t stop, it’s cute,” she smiles. Y/N presses a kiss to her nose, “don’t worry, I didn’t plan on doing anything differently.” So they went back to their work on their beautiful girlfriend.

“And done!” they finished the last stroke of the pen. They helped Tara up from her position and guide her to the mirror so she can see the constellations of her scars. The pair stand in front of it, Tara admiring her partner’s work. She nearly cried at how much attention her partner had payed to detail.

The cool hands of her partner pressed against Tara’s stomach, the sudden touch causing her to shiver and let out a gasp.

“That one is your star sign,” they traced their hands around the scars, “felt like you deserve a bit of your identity in this.” Tara giggled at the tickle their soft touch.

“Tell me about the others,” she begged, loving this artistic side of her partner.

“This one is Orion,” they continued, “I love his story. Shows how potent jealousy is.” They brought their hand up to the scar.

“This is Pegasus,” they trace their hand down to the scar right beside her belly button, “because you’re like no other, beautiful, unique and …” they racked their brain for a word, “sensational.” Tara blushed. Y/N could see a tear coming down her cheek.

“Oh no, Tara, did I do something wrong?”

“No, No No,” she stuttered, “This is just the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for me.” She wrapped her arms around her partner’s neck, getting on her toes to pull them in for a kiss.

“I’m so glad I have you, Y/N.” They cupped her cheek.

“I’m so glad I have you, Tara,” Y/N put a jacket over their girlfriend’s shoulders, “Come on, let’s get you some more Cocoa.”

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