#showjumpers | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shalomniscient · 10 months ago

Note

Congratulations on having a Friesian at the stables where you work as a stablehand. I wanted to request this fluffy idea I had if you want to write it. It's about Cinnabar with a female equestrian reader who rides a Friesian horse. The reader's Friesian is super affectionate towards others, especially Cinnabar. Reader is a bit jealous of the affection Cinnabar is receiving from her Friesian at first but gets over it and is really happy that her Friesian and Cinnabar are close with each other. Cinnabar starts to ride Reader's Friesian and Reader finds out that Cinnabar is really good at horseback riding. Reader helps out her Friesian and Cinnabar perform Dressage techniques and Cinnabar teaches Reader's Friesian to rear up its hind legs while she is riding astride on its back to impress Reader. To be more specific, it's SFW Headcanons. Thank you and hope you're having fun working as a stablehand!

omg dressage !! i used to do competitive dressage as a kid so hopefully i can make this somewhat realistic, fingers crossed

EQUESTRIAN AU HEADCANONS || cinnabar x reader

cw. none

notes. heavily inspired by @ptn-imagines's own work of a similar premise. 100% worth checking out!

Owning a ranch is a lot of work. Between caring for your many, many charges (read: horses) and ensuring the ranch still has the lights on at the end of every week, things can get hectic. Of course, it's nothing you don't already know how to handle, since you've been doing this with your family's help even as a child, but sometimes the workload gets a little much.

Your family's solution? Hire some outside help. To say you were skeptical was an understatement; even more so when you discover that the hired help was a city slicker. You're sure they have some skills, but to help on a ranch? It would be quite the lifestyle change.

She proves you very wrong, though.

Cinnabar takes to the work like a duck to water. Mucking stalls? No problem. Wiping down tack? Consider it done. Mixing feed? She actually did that half an hour ago. Cinnabar blows every expectation you have out of the water and you're more than pleased--it helps that she's extremely easy on the eyes, too. Tall, with short, tousled black hair and an easy, attractive smile. She looks like she'd be more at home on the cover of some fantasy romance novel.

Though what you don't expect the most is just how well she gets along with the local darling of the stables--your Friesian horse, Prince. He's handsome and he knows it, with a long, flowing mane and a glossy black coat. He has always been somewhat of a loverboy, though it seems he's entirely enamored with Cinnabar specifically, following her around whenever he's off lead. It isn't like Cinnabar gives him any particular special treatment; she cares for all your horses with the same gentleness, her tone soft as she speaks to them, yet Prince has staked his claim on her, going so far as to insert himself between you and Cinnabar whenever he can.

The favoritism on part of your horse somewhat annoyed you, but Cinnabar's gentle laughter as Prince nuzzles at her shoulder affectionately assuages some of your irritation. In fact, it's almost... endearing. Hence why you make your offer the next day.

"You should ride him," you say casually, as you and Cinnabar clean up the stalls. Cinnabar stills, looking at you curiously, her eyes bright in the morning sun. Prince nickers in agreement, bumping his snout into her hand as she pats him.

"Are you sure?" she asks, a little hesitant. "He is yours, after all."

You snort at that, recalling the way Prince has behaved the past few weeks. "I don't think he's been mine for a while now. And besides-- I trust you, Cinna."

A slight rosy flush rises up her cheeks at the nickname. You go back and forth about it a little more with her, discussing the kind of riding she'd be doing. Eventually, you both settle on dressage riding. A very prim and proper style, highly technical, but you have faith in Cinnabar. After all, she's never let you down before.

You teach her slowly first, on a lunging line. It helps that Prince is so fond of her; he responds readily to Cinnabar's cues, entirely unlike how he was with you. You work up from a slow walk to an active one, up to a smooth trot and into a relaxed canter. Cinnabar's posture remains remarkably perfect throughout, and you praise her as much for it. Her face is cherry red, but you brush it off as nothing more than exertion.

After training, you both work together to untack Prince and close up the stables. It gets pretty late at that point, and most of the other stablehands have clocked out by then, leaving you and Cinnabar alone together. Cinnabar chats to you about her life in the city, about her uncle, and about how things were just becoming too much over there. You find that you related to her more than you thought--and that's just the thing about Cinnabar, isn't it? She's always surprising you in the best of ways, a welcome change of pace in your life that's become admittedly a little monotonous. As you walk back from the stables, the setting sun lights Cinnabar's face in hues of gold, and you have to look away before you get blinded by the sight of her, your pulse jumping.

Has she always made your heart race?

As the days progress, Cinnabar becomes more and more attuned with dressage riding. She starts learning other movements, such as serpentines and half-passes. You've taken to simply standing outside the arena, leaning on the fence as you watch her and Prince work. They make dressage seem more of an art than a sport. So of course, when a local dressage tournament rolls around, you sign Cinnabar and Prince up (with Cinnabar's permission, of course).

The test is nothing too complex, since it's only a local tournament. Regardless, Cinnabar puts her heart and soul into practicing--even going so far as to wake up a whole hour earlier to get some training in with Prince. She tells you it's to work on her extended trot; which you find odd, since her extended trot is perfectly fine, but a little perfectionism doesn't hurt when it comes to dressage so you let it slide.

Finally, the day of the competition rolls around. Cinnabar is in her room at the ranch, getting ready. For some reason, you're more anxious than the rider, pacing back and forth in front of her door and glancing at the clock. You're about to knock when the door swings open, and there she stands, dressed in typical dressage finery, and your throat dries up.

The white of her breeches contrasts perfectly with the regal green and gold of her shadbelly, and the white vest highlights the slim taper of her shoulders to her waist. She's somehow managed to expertly fasten her cravat, which normally is the bane of your existence to fix.

"You look... good," you say lamely, and Cinnabar's cheeks dust with pink.

"Thank you," she replies softly. "These clothes are very nice."

You're the reason why, you think to yourself. Then, you clear your throat and fish out a small, black box from your pocket. Inside is an emerald brooch, expertly crafted and lustrous. Cinnabar's eyes widen as you step forward, and work on pinning it to her cravat.

"This belonged to my mother," you explain. "It was a gift to her from my father before her big competition, and she ended up winning, so... you can consider it good luck."

Cinnabar's gloved hands gently encircle your wrists. "Then, are you certain you want me to wear it?"

"Of course," you answer immediately, without hesitation. "You-- well, I trust you."

And Cinnabar smiles, making your heart lurch in your chest. She leans in close, and for a brief second your brain short-circuits, your eyes flying down to her lips before she pulls you into a tight hug. You're stiff in her arms, and you hope she doesn't notice the way your heart hammers in your chest.

"Thank you," Cinnabar whispers, her breath warm against your ear. "I won't let you down."

You could never, you want to say, but you bite your tongue. Instead, you simply nod as she pulls back. The both of you head to the stables to fetch Prince, where he awaits Cinnabar eagerly in his stall. The both of you had spent the night before tediously braiding his thick mane, and it was well worth it. Prince nickers happily as Cinnabar leads him out of his stall to head to the competition arena.

Competitors come and go, until finally it's Cinnabar's turn. You sit on the bleachers, feeling surprisingly calm. Maybe it's because your know that Cinnabar and Prince are certain to be nothing short of perfect, or maybe it's the sight of Cinnabar so relaxed that makes you relax too. In any case, Cinnabar and Prince sweep the competition, if the approving nods from the judges were anything to go by. Then, in typical Cinnabar fashion, she surprises you again.

Your breath catches in your throat as Cinnabar encourages Prince into a delicate piaffe, and follows it up with a stunning pesade, as Prince rises onto his hind legs and tucks in his forelegs, forming a 45* degree angle with the ground. In the golden morning light, they look ethereal. It's a textbook perfect pesade that would have impressed even instructors from the Royal Schools. You nearly leap out of your seat when you see it; so this is what Cinnabar spent all those early morning practicing. Oh, you could kiss her.

You're the first to greet her when she exits the arena, unable to stop the grin pulling at your face. "Cinna, that was incredible!" you gush, holding onto Prince's reins as Cinnabar dismounts. She smiles back at you, relieved that you liked it. You lead Prince to a nearby temporary stable, and then the both of you go get refreshments. Other attendees compliment Cinnabar for her impeccable riding and that incredible finale.

Cinnabar, of course, ends up winning first place. As she stands on the podium to accept her blue ribbon, your heart can't help but swell with pride. Prince makes a loud, pleased noise, as Cinnabar walks back to meet you as you stand under the shade of an oak tree, her ribbon pinned above her heart. She hesitates for a moment, then speaks softly.

"Thank you, for this," she murmurs. "For the opportunity. I wouldn't have been able to do it without you."

You shake your head. "Don't sell yourself short, Cinna. You put in the effort, too."

"I suppose I did," she says quietly, with a smile. For a beat, an awkward silence lingers between you two. Cinnabar looks like she has more to say, but at the last second thinks better of it. She takes a step back, as if to leave--but Prince snorts and pushes her forward with his large head, right into your arms. You yelp as she stumbles against you, your back now pressed against the rough bark. Cinnabar's arm shoots out to brace herself before she topples onto you, and now, you're caged in between her and the tree.

The rest of the world drowns out, narrowing down to the bright blue of Cinnabar's eyes. The fullness of her cheeks, the arch of her cheekbones. The way her hair ruffles delicately in the breeze. And, oh God, the way Cinnabar looks at you--it feels like being laid bare. Her eyes flicker down to your lips and your breath catches in anticipation. She's close enough for you to feel the warmth of her breath spill against your lips--

The wait kills you first. You lean up and crash your lips together and Cinnabar gasps into your mouth, her other hand shooting to your waist. She tastes like peppermint and sugar, sweet and cool, somehow exactly as expected. Her lips move almost shyly, experimentally against yours, but above all it's tender. When the both of you finally break apart, your arms are looped around her neck as she rests her forehead against yours. For a while, there is a calm silence between the both of you, before Cinnabar speaks again.

"I suppose I should thank Prince," she chuckles, her lips chastely brushing yours once more. You snort at that, but you don't disagree. Maybe your casanova of a horse did have some use besides being pretty.

"I'd prefer if you kept kissing me first," you reply, and Cinnabar smiles as she presses another kiss at the corner of your lips. Of course, she, like a prince, obliges.

And to Cinnabar, it's the best victory she's ever won.

#sev.writes #ptn #cinnabar x reader #work number 347348937 that has gotten away from me #tbh this is me just infodumping dressage stuff lmao #havent done dressage since before covid #as far as equestrian sports go i'd say dressage is lowest exertion highest technicality #not that it isnt physically demanding #it very much is #but put it up against polo and showjumping and i mean you see where im going with this #anyway cinnabar would totally kill it at dressage u r so right for this one anon #hope you enjoy #and the victor hugo esque equestrian rambling doesnt ruin it LMAO #cinnabar ptn #cinnabar

34 notes · View notes