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sunrizef1 · 5 months ago

Text

Lost in Japan

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Reader

Warnings: None, cursing

Authors Note: I was almost done with a max fic and this song overtook my mind until I finished this. Also trust, I will be using bear as a nickname for Oscar in every fic from now on.

Summary: Lost in Japan by Shawn Mendes

Word Count: 5.1k (this was supposed to be short)

Oscar was bored. Lando was off celebrating a successful weekend somewhere out in the city of Shanghai while Oscar was sat alone in his hotel room waiting for the flight McLaren has organized to get him back to England. He hadn’t won. He hadn’t even gotten a podium. So there wasn’t much for him to be exactly thrilled about. So instead, he was just scrolling through his phone, checking various social media apps before he finally landed on Instagram.

He clicked on the first Instagram story at the top of his page, which happened to be Lando’s. He ignored the pictures of him celebrating at some party, tapping through the various shots of him getting more and more inebriated. He was with Max and Charles at the party so Oscar wasn’t too concerned. He clicks through a few more people stories before landing on a specific one that makes him slow down.

Oscar stares at his phone screen, eyes glazing over your Instagram story. He’s clicking through passively, pausing as he gets to one of you at dinner the night before. He lets it play out but quickly clicks back when he notices the Tokyo, Japan tag that you’ve placed near the top of the screen.

As Oscar stares at the picture, trying to take in every detail, he’s struck by an idea. He clicks out of the app, opens up his messages and navigates to your contact, already standing up from his hotel room bed to grab his already packed suitcase.

It didn’t look like he’d be using that plane ticket back to England after all. He clicks the call button under your name, holding the phone between his shoulder and his cheek as he grabs his things, exiting the room after he slides his backpack on.

The phone rings for a bit too long, making Oscar slightly worried that you wouldn’t pick up but it does eventually connect and Oscar is met with the sound of your voice filtering through the phone speaker. The door shuts with a soft click behind the Aussie as he steps into the hallway.

“Hello, Oscar,” you hum through the phone. Oscar can practically hear the smirk on your lips even through the low quality iPhone speaker.

Oscar huffs a laugh at your tone, dragging his suitcase behind him as he walks down the hall, “Hi, y/n.”

"What can I do for you?” you ask and Oscar can hear shuffling from your end of the call. As the words leave your lips, he reaches the elevator, tapping the button on the wall to call it to his floor.

“Do you have plans tonight?” Oscar reaches the point quickly, trapping the phone back between his shoulder and ear as the elevator opens and he steps in, tapping the lobby button.

You pause for a second, proccessing the question and contemplating your answer, “Besides falling asleep in a few hours? Nope.”

Oscar hums, pulling the phone into his hands and typing impatiently into google as you speak. He finds the soonest, and nicest, flight to Japan he could, purchasing the ticket without a second thought.

“Why?”

Oscar freezes for a moment, looking up from the ticket he'd just bought to narrow his eyes at the elevator door, “I saw you're in Japan-”

“Oh, so you're stalking me now?” Oscar rolls his eyes as you laugh through your question, painting the image of your grinning face in the Aussies mind.

“Shut up, no, anyway-,” Oscar sighs, dragging his suitcase out of the elevator as it reaches the lobby, “Im in Shanghai, I thought I'd fly over to see you.”

Your silence on the other end of the line is deafening. Oscar even checks to make sure the call is still connected due to how quiet you were. Taking your lack of response as a bad sign, Oscar starts to ramble, hoping to do a bit of damage control, “Just because I'm only a couple hundred miles away and the race is over and I'm bored. Its just been so long since we were so close, especially during the season and I miss y-”

“When does your flight leave?”

Oscar, who’d frozen on the sidewalk outside the hotel, unfreezes to gesture for a taxi. It was only a five-minute drive to the airport from the place Mclaren had been staying so he hoped this wouldn't take too long. He mutes for a moment to tell the driver to take him to the airport. The driver nods, pulling away from the curb.

“Uhhhh-” Oscar navigates through his phone to check his flight details as he sits back in his seat, “Half an hour?”

“Ooh, you better hurry then,” You hum, a playful tone laced through your words, “Dont want to miss it.”

Oscar laughs happily, just glad to hear you joking along. He does find some reality in your words though, doing the math to see if he even had enough time to make his flight. He was honestly running on hopes and prayers at this point.

“What made you suddenly so inclined to fly to Japan on a random Sunday?” Your voice pulls Oscar out of his thoughts and he pauses, smiling abashedly as the answer comes to his head.

“Just can't get you off my mind.”

Oscar can’t see you. But if he could, he'd see a warm smile carved onto your face due to the warmth his statement had caused.

“I don't know Osc, I'm actually pretty tired. Might just head to bed,” Oscar rolls his eyes as you try and stifle your giggle.

“Do I need to convince you to stay awake, then?”

You huff a laugh, humming in affirmation, “I’d love to hear it.”

“Well,” Oscar starts, racking his mind for some suggestions of what to say to get you to agree to this, “You don't miss me?”

“I never said that,” You reply quickly. Oscar raises an eyebrow, head falling back against the seat as he trys not to groan.

“So you do miss me?”

You hum quietly, the sound almost too low for Oscar to hear it through the phone, “Maybe a little bit.”

The Aussie chuckles, “I thought so.”

“Can you blame me? It's been a while. I miss my favourite koala bear,” Oscar gets the sense that the words were meant to come out teasing but he can't help but notice how genuine they sound. He laughs nonetheless.

He's about to respond when the cab comes to a sudden stop and he looks out the window to see the airport in front of him.

“Shit, I'm here.”

Oscar swings his backpack onto his shoulders, rifling through a pocket to find enough cash to hand to the driver, not really considering an exact amount and, instead, just asking the driver if that was enough. When the driver tries to hand change back, Oscar leans away, grasping the door handle to swing the door open to get out. He grabs his suitcase as well, leaning down to shout back into the car.

“Keep the change, thanks mate!” Oscar shuts the door, dragging his suitcase behind him as the cab drives away.

“Such a gentleman, I take it you're at the airport now?” you tease him, a genuine questioning tilt laced in your words.

Oscar nods before remembering you can't see him, “Yeah, just got out of the car.”

Oscar rushes through the large door, holding it open for an older woman to walk through before he steps in past her. He glances around the room, trying to find airport security so he could get to his gate.

“You gonna make your flight?” you seem to be finding a lot of amusement in his frantic rushing.

Oscar huffs, pinning his phone between his cheek and shoulder to check his watch. He still had about twenty-five minutes to get to his plane.

“Twenty minutes,” he responds, walking quickly down the hall when he spots a sign directing him that way.

“Ooh! Ah, I have faith in you. If you're anywhere near as fast as you are on the track I'm sure you'll be fine.”

Oscars eyes trail over the hall, locking onto the security gates and causing him to walk a little quicker, “You watch the race today?”

You don't respond for a few minutes but when you do, your voice is a lot more calm than it had been a few moments before, “Mhm. You did good Os.”

Oscar lets out a sigh, shaking his head as a grin fights its way into his lips, “Thanks, I'm glad you think so.”

Oscar steps into the security line, grateful for the fact that there are only a few people in front of him. He ignores the weird glance the old lady in front of him sends his way as he rushes to a stop behind her, replying with a tight smile.

“Its not just me, Osc,” you reply, sensing his disdain for the days race through the phone, “Everyone thinks you did well.”

Oscar hums, stepping up a few steps as a couple of people pass through, leaving just the old lady in front of him. As he reaches the bag scanners, he pins his phone on his shoulder again to lift his bag up onto the conveyor belt, tossing his bag down beside it.

“One second,” Oscar responds, muting his phone to drop it into a bowl along with his airpods, sending them through along with his bags.

After he's put all his things on the belt, he steps away, walking through the metal detector when the agent signals for him to go.

It takes a few moments for the agents to check his bags but when they come through he pulls the suitcase off and sets it beside him, turning back to slide his backpack over his shoulders. He slides his AirPods into his hoodie pocket and picks up his phone, unmuting the call before walking away, his suitcase in tow.

“Im back,” Oscar clicks away from the call for a few seconds to check his flight details before putting the phone back to his ear.

“Did I just get sent through a security scanner?” you sound amused and Oscar can practically see your smirk just from the tone of your voice.

“Didnt want to hang up,” he grumbles, searching the signs above him for his gate, walking quickly when he spots it. A clock on the wall indicates that he's still got 15 minutes to get to his flight. He thinks about it for a few moments, quickly realizing that it was 15 minutes until scheduled takeoff and boarding would actually end in five minutes.

“Im honored-”

“Fuck!” Oscar cuts you off, too busy now sprinting down the airport corridor to think about that fact, “Shit! I'm gonna miss it!”

You don't respond for a few seconds but you eventually do, a loud laugh echoing from your throat as you take in his situation.

“Oh my god, are you late for boarding? Osc!” you laugh, the image of the driver sprinting down the hall engrained in your head.

He doesn't reply, the phone now down near his hip as he runs to his gate. The run feels like an hour but, in reality, was only actually a few minutes, the clocks on the walls ticking down as if mocking the Aussies poor planning.

He finds some kind of respite, though, as he finally gets to the gate, slowing down as he steps up to the gate agent. The lady seems surprised to see him run up but she doesn't turn away, instead glancing him up and down with a concerned look before responding.

“Hi! Do you have your ticket?” the woman is surprisingly kind about the question, especially considering she had been preparing to leave as he'd rocked up.

Oscar nods, still trying to catch his breath. He pulls his phone open to navigate to the ticket, facing the QR code forward for the agent to scan. She does so before nodding politely and leading him down the path toward the plane.

Oscar lets out a sight of relief and lifts the phone back up to his face, “I made it.”

Your laugh has calmed down but you snort at his almost war-torn sounding voice, his strife obvious due to his lack of breath, “Congrats, man.”

He gets lead onto the plane, thanking the woman who'd brought him and smiling at the flight attendants as he walks a few steps past them. He finds his seat, dropping his phone onto it to lift his phone and stow it away in the overhead bin. He grabs his phone and sits down, relaxing into the seat after setting his backpack on the ground.

“I’ll be in Japan in a few hours,” He says, running hand over his face, “See you there, yeah?”

You hum, “See you there, bear.”

Oscar ignores the nickname, pretending it didn't make him smile, “Im gonna hang up now, promise you won't be asleep when I land?”

You laugh, “I promise, Oscar. I'll even go get a red bull for some extra energ-”

“Yeah, nope. Goodbye.” Oscar interrupts before you can endorse the rival team.

“Bye koala bear,” you respond and the phone clicks softly as you hang up. Oscar sets the phone down to pull his airpods out of his pocket, connecting them in order to watch some movie for the flight.

The flights only a few hours long but it feels a lot longer than that to Oscar. It's a haze of random Netflix shows and bagged pretzels, the monotony of the flight boring Oscar out of his mind.

He's relieved when the plane touches down, his proximity to the front of the plane allowing him to stand up and grab his things fairly quickly. Its about 9 pm local time, the sky outside not shedding any light through the plane windows.

Oscar walks out into the airport, grateful to be off the cramped plane and finally move his legs again. He stops at one of the few shops still open to buy an overpriced bottle of water, pausing as he spots a bag of those haribo peach rings you like so much. He doesn't think much as he grabs the bag, throwing it onto the counter beside his bottle and offering the cashier a polite smile.

After paying, he grabs the bottle and the bag, grasping them in the same hand as he pulls his suitcase along with the other one.

He strolls through the airport, trying to rid himself of the fatigue from the race and the plane ride. The only thing keeping him from falling asleep was the thought of seeing you again.

Speaking of you, Oscar doesn't realize he has no idea where you were staying or where you were until he's stepped out of the airport doors, standing on the sidewalk with his suitcase sat next to him. He tries to recall if you'd told him anything about your Japan trip or even if he'd seen anything on your story but he comes up empty.

He clicks on your contact, pressing the phone to his ear as the call rings. He frowns as you decline, confused as to why you'd hang up.

He's just about to walk back inside to wait when a car horn honks, causing Oscar to look up in front of him.

His eyes widen as they lock onto an orange Mclaren 570s Coupe, the car shining beautifully under the street lights. As he stands and admires the car ahead of him, the window closest to him rolls down and he sees your head duck down to lock eyes with him.

“You getting in?”

He laughs incredulously, opening the passenger side door and carefully sliding his suitcase into the small storage space behind the seats.

He sets his backpack on the floor below him, flopping back into the sear and sliding his seatbelt on. He sets his water down and tosses the bag of peach rings into your lap, “Nice car.”

“Thanks,” you reply brightly, eyes widening as you observe the bag of candy before moving it into your hoodie pocket, “Thought id go all out with the rental for the few days I'm here.”

Oscar hums, glancing around the nice car, coincidentally a Papaya McLaren. He refused the urge to ask you if you'd been thinking of him when you'd picked the vehicle.

After you make sure his seatbelts on, you pull away from the airport terminal and navigate onto the main road, pressing play on your playlist to let music filter quietly through the speakers.

The car glides smoothly down the streets of Tokyo, bright lights reflecting off the sides of your face. Oscar looks your way, completely aware that your attention was locked on the road, giving him the free pass to admire you.

Your eyes dart around the road in front of you, neon lights reflected in your irises. Your teeth dig at your lower lip, chewing lightly as turn the car. You’ve got one hand on the wheel, the other one moving around between the center console and the fraying edge of your shorts. You're wearing a quadrant hoodie and Oscar can't tell if its his or if you both just owned the same hoodie. The fit didn't help, he knew you bought your hoodies oversized anyway.

You glance over as you come to a stop at a red light, grinning when you see his eyes on you.

“What?” You ask, laughing slightly as you lean back from the wheel, splitting your attention between the road and Oscars face.

Oscar shakes his head with a small smile, his own attention turning out the window as you drive through the green light.

“Have you eaten?”

Oscar shakes his head, “Nah.”

You nod, taking the next turn to pull into a parking lot, stopping the car after you find a spot. You step out and Oscar takes this as his cue to get out as well, shutting the car door gently behind him.

When Oscar gets around the car, he finds you leaning against the edge, your feet crossed as you wait for him. He steps to your side and you push off the car, the familiar beep of it locking ringing out as you walk away.

As you both walk toward the restaurant, you step into Oscar's side and he’s quick to swing an arm over your shoulder. You wrap an arm around his torso, reaching the other up to tangle your fingers with his.

He's only slightly disappointed when you have to drop his hand in order to open the door. But you keep your hand against his ribs and he keeps his arm around your shoulders, not ready to let you go yet.

The second his feet pass the threshold of the building, he's hit with some of the most delicious scents he'd smelled in his life. This late at night there isn't much action apart from a few stragglers who Oscar assumes had just gotten off work and needed a bite to eat.

An older man swings around the corner from the kitchen, faint food stains gracing his otherwise white apron. He has a huge grin on his face and it only increases when he sees you. He pushes his glasses up on his nose, wiping off the steam that had accumulated on the lenses.

“Ah! You're back again!” The man calls out to the pair of you. Although his words do make Oscar assume the man was mostly talking to you, “And you brought your boyfriend!”

You don't correct the man and after seeing the grin on your face, Oscar doesn't either.

“Yeah, he just got in from Shanghai. Haven't had dinner yet.”

“Go, go,” the man smiles, pointing toward the dining room, “Sit where you want, ill get to you in a second.”

The man waves you both toward the tables and you step out of Oscar’s grasp. He doesn't have to be disappointed for long as you wrap your hand in his to lead him through the restaurant, stopping at a booth before sliding in. Oscar slides in the seat opposite of you, his legs knocking against yours under the table.

Quickly, the man, who Oscar now assumes is the owner, comes over to the table, setting down two glasses of water and a pair of menus in front of the both of you.

“You know what you want?” The man grins as he gestures toward you, seemingly familiar to you. Oscar takes a sip of his water, letting the coop liquid run down his throat.

You nod happily, “Yeah, I think so.”

The man pulls out a small notebook to write down whatever you say and you continue by saying a few different dishes, the only one Oscar having had before being sushi. He doesn't say anything, knowing that you knew more about this place and the menu than he did.

After you're done ordering, the man walks away and strolls into the kitchen, handing the order to the woman behind the counter before placing a small kiss on her cheek.

Oscar looks back to you, a small smile on his face after seeing the couple who seemed to be running the restaurant themselves, “You’ve been here before, then?”

You nod, leaning over to take a sip from your glass, “Yeah, came here yesterday for lunch.”

Oscar hums, glancing out of the booth to look around the room. Paintings and neon signs decorate the walls and what seems to be photographs taken in the restaurant all line the wall by the entrance. Oscar can vaguely see that the photos of are different people posing, all with happy looks on their faces. He huffs a breathy laugh when he sees one of you with your friends.

The time spent waiting for your food is filled with casual conversation, Oscar asking a lot of questions about how your Tokyo trip had been so far.

You don't ask about the race. There's some kind of unspoken understanding that Oscar had run to Japan to get away from racing for once. Here, with you, Oscar wasn't Mclaren racing driver, Oscar Piastri, he was just Oscar. Or “Bear”, as you called him. A nickname that you seemed unable to let go of. Oscar pretended to be annoyed every time you said it but he couldn't deny the smile that formed every time he heard the Australia-themed moniker.

“Bear?” There it is. Oscar looks up with a raised eyebrow, deducing that you'd asked a question he hadn't answered.

“I asked if you're staying with me tonight.”

Oscar snorts before smirking, shaking his head as he locks eyes with you, “Yeah, wouldn't dream of being anywhere else.”

You blush, looking down toward the table, past meals having left vague food stains on the wood.

Before you can respond, the man returns, plates and bowls balancing in his hands. You look up politely, smiling as the man starts to place the food on the table, “Thank you so much.”

The man grins as he places down the last plate, “Of course. Enjoy.”

He walks away and you turn toward Oscar who stares vaguely at the food in front of him, “Dig in.”

You make a move for your chopsticks, looking over the food before taking a bite of whatever is immediately in front of you. Oscar glances around, not sure where to start.

Noticing his hesitancy, you pick up a piece of what you'd been eating and bring it up toward his lips, pulling back after Oscar bites into it.

“What is this?” Oscar asks as he chews, covering his mouth as he speaks. Whatever it is, it's pretty good, having a light and slightly sweet flavour. Its also a bit more rubbery than chicken, but its pretty good nonetheless.

You swallow your own bite, having scooped up some rice along with it, “Unagi. Grilled eel.”

The only indication of Oscar's surprise is his widened eyes but after a few seconds, he reaches over to take another bite, humming as he chews on the eel. You smile, moving on to grab some kind of skewer.

You slowly move through the foods, explaining each one to Oscar as he tries them.

They're all good but Oscar's favourite is the yakitori, the skewers of grilled chicken. By the time you've finished the food on the table, Oscar is about ready to pass out.

So you pay as soon as you can, Oscar grumbling about his inability to pay for the meal, lacking the proper currency. He does Venmo you when you put your phone down, though.

The owner makes playful conversation with you, thanking you for coming around and telling you you're welcome back anytime. Oscar just stands with his head on top of yours, trying not to fall asleep.

You're about to leave when the man calls you back and you turn around to see him holding a camera in his hands, “For the wall? Need to remember the happy couple.”

You laugh, glancing around to see the many many photos of various friend groups on the wall behind you, turning back around with a soft look as you nod. You lean into Oscar who wraps an arm around you, tilting his head toward you. You tangle your hand with the one on your shoulder, holding up a peace sign with your other one.

The familiar click of a camera sounds and the man smiles warmly, waving you both out the door, “Have a great time! Thank you for coming!”

You wave goodbye, stepping out of the restaurant and pulling out your keys to unlock the car. Oscar untangles from you to walk to the passenger's side and step in. You drop in as well, setting your phone down in the centre console. Oscar is staring out the window when he feels something drop in his lap and he glances down to see the bag of peach rings he'd bought you.

“Can you open that?” You ask, starting the car and putting it in reverse. You glance over your shoulder as you pull backward, one arm behind Oscars seat and the other on the wheel.

Oscar, at risk of getting caught staring, turns his attention to the candy, ripping the edge and grabbing a few pieces to throw in his mouth.

Once you've got onto the main road, you hold out a hand and Oscar drops a couple pieces which you proceed to eat.

The drive is quiet, the both of you feeling the exhaustion of the day catch up to you. You eventually pull up to the hotel, stopping the car and stepping out. Not before grabbing more candy from Oscar, though.

Oscar leans over to grab his suitcase, stepping out of the car and sliding his backpack on. He grabs his water bottle from the airport, stuffing it into the bottle compartment on the side of the bag. He looks up and starts walking, stepping by your side as you enter the hotel. You stroll through the lobby, leading both of you to the elevator.

As the elevator starts moving up, you both lean against the wall, letting the quiet music be the only sound beside a couple yawns.

The elevator dings as it passes each floor. Oscar watches as you dig your key card out of your pocket, running your fingers along the edge absently.

The doors slide open, leading you to walk out, Oscar in tow. You drift down the hall, humming along to whatever song was playing in your head. Oscar vaguely recognizes it as Taylor Swift.

When you reach your room, you scan your card and push the door open, holding it to let Oscar pass through.

He does, pushing his suitcase next to the far side of the bed. He can hear you setting your things down, the familiar clink of keys on glass ringing out in the otherwise quiet room.

“I’m gonna use the bathroom,” he says lowly, sliding past you and into the attached bathroom. He can hear you hum in affirmation just before he shuts the door.

When he emerges, you're sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling off your shoes before tossing them on the floor. You’ve taken off your hoodie (or Oscars) and its not lain over the chair across the room.

You glance up, smiling as you see the Aussie walk out, “Hi.”

Oscar huffs amusedly, sliding off his own shoes as he walks toward you, “Hi.”

You hum, looking up as he walks closer to you before leaning slightly to angle his face toward yours. You both pause for a few moments, waiting to see who'd break the stand-off first.

It ends up being you, as you pull his face down towards yours, your kiss almost searing. The kiss feels like it lasts a lifetime and Oscar almost wishes it could. He does pull away, though, just to move you away from the edge of the bed, smiling when he hears your laugh ring out after he's practically tossed you onto the mattress.

He moves up as well and before he can even get his bearings, you're pulling him back down again, hands in his hair and your lips on his.

The next morning, Oscars awoken by the sound of your quiet laugh. He rolls over with a tired groan, wrapping his other arm around your torso.

“What are you laughing at?” he grumbles, tiredness clear in his voice.

You turn to face him, looking impossibly beautiful for having just woken up. You hold your phone toward him and Oscar glances down at the screen before looking back up at your face with a questioning glance.

“Lando sent me a video this morning,” you start, closing your phone and tossing it aside to grasp his tired face between your hands, “Its quite funny.”

“What was it?” Oscar mumbles, leaning to press a small kiss on your forehead.

You lean back, looking him in the eyes and seemingly trying to hide your smirk, “It's a video of his teammate sprinting through the Shanghai airport.”

Oscar groans, trying to ignore your warm laugh, “Fuck.”

He's not really mad, not when the video was the source of your happiness right now.

There were a lot worse sights to wake up to than your happy face beside him.

——————————————————

Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119

#scheduled #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #oscar piastri x fem!reader #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri fanfiction

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sanarsi · 4 months ago

Text

Goddess

husband!Oberyn Martell x f!Reader

Summary: Just you and your husband who love each other very much. Warnings: +18, MDNI, soft!dom!Oberyn, unprotected PIV, literally it’s just smut with lots of love (he’s simp) Wordcount: 1,6k An: I don't know, Oberyn is like a ray of sunshine to me. It's a very sweet smut. Lots of his love exactly how I imagine him. Music I worked with: Señorita - Shawn Mendes, Camila Cabello

Masterlist

Since you became Mrs. Martell, life had been nothing but kind to you.

Every day was better than the last.

Every day was perfect.

Your husband made sure of that.

Your every wish was fulfilled faster than you could have hoped. Any whim of yours? You didn't have to tell twice. He had already thought about it the previous day. Sometimes you had the feeling that he wasn't real. That in reality you'd wake up in the morning feeling an emptiness in your heart, that it was all a dream.

Yet it was his lips that woke you up every morning.

It was his hands that caressed your skin.

It was his voice that you heard as you began each day.

It was always him.

Oberyn surrounded you with the love he promised you when he put the ring on your finger. He took care of you as he promised when he made his vows. He was faithful to you because he didn't see the world beyond you.

For him, only you existed. Your smile. Your voice. Your laugh.

He believed that you were sent to him by the gods themselves.

That's why you were woken up every day by his whisper.

"Good morning, my queen."

"You glow more than I remember."

“Your skin is softer than yesterday.”

"Your eyes sparkle at the sight of me. Perhaps my queen loves me more than yesterday, hm?"

It was his love that made you the best version of yourself. Smile never left your face for even a second. Happiness filled your body with every little action you made. Every morning he brought you fresh oranges from the garden. Every evening he held you in his arms as you watched the sunset.

Today was no exception. You were pouring two cups of herbs when strong arms wrapped around your waist. You smiled tenderly as his body pressed against yours. Warm lips began to place wet kisses on your shoulder. You sighed in contentment, tilting your head back. His nose ran down your neck, inhaling your scent until he moaned softly against your ear.

"You smell like a flower that only blooms in my garden," he murmured into your ear and placed a gentle kiss on it. He fixed his gaze on your delicate facial features and couldn't resist pulling you in by your chin. Your lips collided in a gentle kiss. His every movement was filled with love. Adoration. True worship.

He gently forced you to turn to face him and his arms immediately pulled you closer. Your hands on his cheeks elicited a groan of pleasure from him. Your lips were soft and sweet like the peaches you ate every day. He loved kissing your lips. He loved feeling your tongue respond shyly to his.

Only with you was he like this. Only you saw his tender and caring side. He was only yours. That's why he tried to be perfect for you.

Just the way you wanted and needed him.

His hands gripped your skin tighter as he held your hips tightly against his. You gasped into his mouth as he worshipped your body with his hands.

Oh he loved touching you.

Every inch of you was perfect to him. Every little imperfection you saw in yourself only made him love you more. Because in his eyes you were flawless.

"I need you closer" he whispered against your lips, tightening his fingers on the material of your dress. "Give yourself to me."

You moaned in response, feeling his hands on your thighs. In one movement, he pulled you up, encircling your hips in a tight embrace. You hugged him tightly, pressing your lips harder against his. The quiet chirping of birds faded into the background as Oberyn slowly made his way to the bedroom.

You gasped as he gently laid you down on the soft sheets. His lips trailed down to your neck, caressing every spot that made your knees go weak. He knew your body by heart. With his eyes closed, he could find every scar, every mole.

His hands slowly began to slide down your body. Oh how he loved the dresses you wore. Only you could look like a queen in rags that barely covered anything. The flowing petticoats hugged every curve of your figure perfectly. And they were even easier to take off. His hands crept under the material to squeeze your tits. Perfect for his hands. You sighed, throwing your head back, giving in to his caresses.

"The gods are crying because they gave you to me," he gasped in your ear, throwing off his shirt. Your hands were immediately on his chest, running over his heated skin. He moaned at your greedy touch. He loved feeling that you desired him.

He couldn't feel more proud than that his wife wanted him.

He bit your neck gently as you unbuttoned his pants. His hands slowly slid down your thighs, revealing more and more. Your dress slid down your hips, revealing your pussy. His fingers dug into your skin right at the junction of your thighs. You moaned and he immediately pressed his lips to yours. He began to drink in your moans as his fingers ran over your wet slit.

"She's waiting for me," he whispered into your mouth, looking with adoration at the pleasure written on your face. He loved watching you when he was giving you pleasure.

He loved watching you when you were giving yourself pleasure.

He generally loved watching you.

"Baby..." you gasped hungrily as his fingers slowly spread the moisture all over your slit. His attention focused on your clit longer each time. He slowly circled it a few times before sliding down to sink his fingers into you. And so on and so forth. Until you cried out in the way he loved. Out of need for him to enter you. A satisfied smirk appeared on his face at the desire in your eyes.

“My beautiful wife… So needy for my cock,” he purred tenderly and pressed a few kisses to your face.

“Oberyn, please…” you whispered, running your hands over his neck and shoulders. You were hungry and he fucking loved it.

He guided his cock to your entrance and ran the tip along the length of your slit a few times. You moaned, digging your fingers into the back of his neck. He watched you as he slowly pushed his cock into you. He gasped as he pushed all the way in.

He loved the way you took him in. You always squeezed against him in greeting. Always polite and gentle. And his cock always responded to her greeting.

Even they loved each other the same as you two.

His hips started working immediately. At the perfect pace. So that you wouldn't stop feeling him for even a moment. And it couldn't be any other way. Because you only felt him. Everywhere. His cock teased your sweet spot, his fingers tightened on your thigh and his mouth attacked yours again. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, but even that wasn't enough. Not just for you.

Oberyn owned you in every way known to man.

You had his last name, you woke up in his arms every day, he made love to you every day.

You were his.

All of you.

But it just wasn't enough.

He wanted to own you in a way known only to the gods. He wanted to possess you. He wanted to have your soul. He was crazy about you. As crazy as you were about him.

His body pressed against yours, leaving no space between you. You panted heavily between each kiss as his hips made perfect movements. The kind that drove you crazy. His fingers tangled in your hair, holding you rigidly to his mouth. He crushed you with his love. You couldn't and wouldn't break free.

"Nothing will take you away from me" he panted feeling his cock hit the very end of your wonderful pussy. “I will burn the whole world if anyone tries.”

You moaned louder, arching under him. You tightened your fingers in his hair, starting to move your hips with him. Closer. Deeper.

“Oberyn…” you moaned through bliss.

“Yes my goddess, worship my name” he growled, speeding up the movements of his hips. His thrusts were always precise. His every move was never accidental. That’s why his cock brushed against your sweet spot every time, forcing a cry from your chest. You locked eyes, panting heavily.

"Will you come for me, my dear?" he murmured, rubbing his nose against yours. You immediately nodded.

"Yes," you almost squealed. He smiled, connecting your lips again. His tongue found yours, and his quiet moans sent shivers down your spine. You pulled him closer by the neck, moaning louder and louder into his mouth until you could no longer return his kisses. He rested his forehead against yours, entering you without a moment's respite.

And your orgasm attacked you with an intensity that only existed because of him.

You gasped for air as you experienced each wave of fulfillment that coursed through your body. And Oberyn reveled in how wonderful you felt on his cock. He groaned at the intensity of your coming, and only a few strokes passed before he came deep inside you. He growled thrusting into you a few more times before he froze panting from exhaustion.

Your hands gently stroked his hair and neck making him purr. He looked at you and immediately stole a kiss from your sweet lips that smiled at him blissfully.

#oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x you #oberyn martell smut #Oberyn martell x y/n #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #sanarsi fic

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itoshiexx · 1 year ago

Text

wonder

synopsis: sae wondered what it was like to be loved by you.

pairing: itoshi sae x gn!reader | words: 800 | warnings: established relationship, tooth rotting fluff, sae is stupidly in love with u

notes: why hello! i'm barely alive! i know i kinda disappeared but i was struggling with personal issues and my mental health, so i didn't really have creativity to write. i'm not sure i like this either, but i couldn't let sae bae's bday go by without posting anything. also this is slightly inspired by the song "wonder - shawn mendes". thank you for your love and patience! <3

masterlist

there are certain things itoshi sae would never admit. like the way he loved calm walks at the beach or how seagulls were his favorite animal. how he secretly regret hurting his little brother’s feelings when he was a stupid teenager. how his life was way lonelier than the world could even imagine, making him hate the walls of his oh so empty apartment.

mostly, he would never admit he wondered what it was like to be loved — not just by anyone, though, but to be loved by you.

he’s not sure when it started. he can’t pinpoint the exact moment his heart began beating faster and his black and white world was filled with color, but he does know that, inevitably, it all comes back to you, like you’re some sort of big bang that created his whole existence. itoshi sae doesn’t think he was actually himself before he became yours.

if you ask him, he’d say it’s a bit pathetic, really. he was never a guy that cared about romance, and he definitely didn’t believe in the concept of a love that could sweep you off your feet, like the hollywood movies desperately tried to sell. perhaps one of the reasons he liked you so much was because you managed to prove him wrong, and not many people were able to do that.

sae was usually right. but you, in his life — that was even more right than his stupid beliefs.

“sae, i need to get up,” your voice breaks him from his stupor, and, instinctively, his hold on your waist tightens. it’s some sort of protection, he thinks. not to you, but to protect him from the pain of having you stray away.

(he never wants to let go).

the football player twists his body to trap you even further on the mattress, burying his face on your chest and tangling his legs with yours. your giggle reverberates through his whole body and brings warmth to his cheeks. his heart flutters, and he can’t even find it in him to hate it.

you must have put a spell on him, he concludes.

“i’m serious. i need to make breakfast,” you say again when he doesn’t answer.

“don’t wanna.”

“you don’t want breakfast?”

“nuh-uh.”

you giggle again, and this time, you seem to give in, relaxing your body and welcoming him in your embrace. sae can only sigh in satisfaction when you card your fingers through his reddish-brown locks, relishing in the peace only you seem to be able to give him.

“i wonder what people would think if they knew how clingy the all mighty itoshi sae can be,” the teasing lit in your tone doesn’t go unnoticed by him, and you earn a scoff.

“shut up,” he quips, although there’s no real bite in it. “you love me.”

and you must not be from this world, because it’s easy — the way you pick up on any slight nuance of his voice or demeanor. it’s so fucking easy for you to read him like an open book and to give the reassurance he so desperately needs; albeit unaware.

your voice becomes impossibly soft, “i do, baby. i love you so much.”

you kiss his forehead, and after wandering around for so long, sae thinks he’s finally home.

for a while, you two just stay there, in bed, wrapped in each other in a way you can’t know where he starts and where you end. the thought of being one with you makes him happy, but that’s just another item in his long list of things he would never admit.

your sweet voice breaks the silence.

“we’re gonna be in bed all day?” there’s nothing but pure curiosity in your voice. no judgment — you never judge him, despite the way he deserves it sometimes. the thought makes his chest tighten with the amount of love he has harbored just for you.

sometimes he thinks he’s too small for it, and he’s scared all this love will overflow and consume him whole. though, it’s even scarier to think he wouldn’t mind: sae is yours. you can have all that he has and all that he is.

“just a little longer,” he whispers, a little more vulnerable than he would like. but it’s okay. it’s always okay when it’s you. “please?”

you hum in agreement, continuing to caress his hair.

“of course. whatever the birthday boy wants.”

sae allows himself to close his eyes and bask in your warmth, on the safety that you so effortlessly gave him. by smelling your perfume, he’s filled with gratitude for all the times he wondered what it was like to be loved by you.

“happy birthday, love.”

he’s glad he doesn’t have to wonder anymore.

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shurisgf · 6 months ago

Text

WHERE WERE YOU IN THE MORNING? — A. ARETAS ✩

🎧 for an enhanced experience , listen to Where Were You in the Morning — Shawn Mendes

9:00 AM

The warm sunlight filled the bedroom as your eyes fluttered open, your head still lying on Armando’s chest. His arms were wrapped around your torso as one of his hands rubbed your back gently, providing you comfort. You moved your head slightly, trying not to wake up your sleepy boyfriend, and placed a gentle kiss on his collarbone. You hummed softly, snuggling your head back into the place it originally was. You loved spending mornings together at your place, the two of you hardly got to wake up together anymore because of Armando’s busy schedule now that he was working alongside his dad. So you cherished every moment like this. He began to stir out of his sleep, and placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head. “Buenos días, mamá.” He mumbled in that sleepy voice of his, letting you know that he was awake. “Good morning baby, I didn’t mean to wake you.” You lovingly caressed his chest in an attempt to coax him back to sleep. He hummed quietly, still rubbing your back with his hands. The two of you stayed like this for a while, enjoying the quiet hum of the ac, the birds outside, the pure peace of it all. The two of you weren’t really morning people, so you appreciated the silence. Being in his arms was your favorite place, it made you feel content in knowing that he was yours, and you were his. “¿Cómo has dormido?” His drowsy voice filled the silent room, “The best I’ve slept in a while, actually.” He chuckled quietly, “And why’s that?” He hummed, “Because I got to sleep with you.” You smiled to yourself, getting up from the position you were lying in and moving to sit on top of him so you were now looking down at him, resting your hands on his chest. His hands paused, waiting for you to get comfortable, then placing them on your ass, rubbing it slowly. “I’m gonna go shower.” You mumbled and placed a soft peck to his lips before getting off of him and walking towards the bathroom. “Such a tease,” he mumbled staring at you as you left the room, causing a light chuckle to escape your lips.

GLOSSARY !

Buenos días, mamá. — Good morning, mama.

¿Cómo has dormido? — How’d you sleep?

TAGLIST; @ghettogirly

reblogs are greatly appreciated !

#ੈ✩‧₊˚ she was a 𝒻𝒶𝒾𝓇𝓎 #armando aretas x reader #armando armas x reader #armando x reader #armando aretas #armando armas #jacob scipio #bad boys ride or die #bad boys for life

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milliesfishes · 13 days ago

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Hi! I simply ADORE your writing and idk if you’re taking requests right now but I’d love an accidental pregnancy with Billy story (maybe even with some enemies to lovers vibes)!

౨ৎ꣑ৎStaying౨ৎ꣑ৎ

[fem reader] contains: angst, pregnancy, bullet wound pairing: billy the kid x fem reader author’s note: sorry this took forever! here's your poll winner I hope you like it hehe. thank you @phantomamor for reading through it for me mwah Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

His hair was a mess. Curly and free of his hat for once, dancing over the plane of his forehead. You could count every freckle on his cheek if you wanted to, easier than counting stars. His breathing was soft, escaping his slightly parted lips in brief little puffs. He was sunk into the mattress next to you, arm slung around your side, fingers splayed over your back. You hadn't bothered to redress and neither had he.

It must have been nearly an hour since you woke up, his heartbeat stuttering in your ears. Even when you'd shifted, he hadn't woken. It'd likely been a long time since he'd slept in a decent bed, so used to collapsing and shutting his eyes whenever he could. Although he'd been here renting this room for nearly a week, there wasn't any way he was used to it yet. Or maybe he was just relaxed. You'd slept better than expected too.

Blinking, you shook yourself out of your daze, suddenly realizing where you were. Billy Bonney's bed. Billy the Kid's bed. And he was sprawled out as if it were nothing, palm warming your side, maybe leaving a handprint with how long it'd been resting there.

Sitting up, you watched his hand drop from your waist to your thigh. He still didn't stir. Letting the sheet fall away, you stiffened upon seeing the patches of red that marked his trail of kisses down your body, the result of his stubble rubbing at your skin. It'd been deliciously satisfying at the time, but now the leftover sting only heightened your shame.

Reaching down and rubbing at the most prominent marks on each inner thigh, you squeezed your eyes shut. Your innocence had been surrendered to a man whose face was splashed all over the West with a reward over his hat. The same hat you'd knocked off his head so you could tangle your hand in his hair. It'd been softer than you remembered.

Your brother James' childhood friendship with him as well as your brief romance felt like decades ago. It ended when he'd skipped town without so much as a letter. Needless to say, it'd been a shock to see him leaning on the bar last night, sipping his drink and grinning at something another man said. And when your eyes caught his, there was nearly a string of fire stretched in the distance between you. Everything unspoken pushed you together again, until there was no separation.

He'd been so smooth last night. Gentle, touch like a butterfly as he unwrapped you from your dress and whispered things that set your heart aflame. Though there were new shadows behind his eyes, this was the same Billy who'd told you he loved you all those years ago. You knew him, but obviously you hadn't known him.

He'd filled out in the time he'd been away. Your Billy Antrim had been broad and manly, but this Billy was somehow broad-er. Pressed against you now, it was easier to tell. He wasn't at all a kid, contrary to the name he'd earned from the law. It'd been freeing to be with him. You'd felt alive. This was something you'd done for yourself, no watchful eye of a protective brother standing above you like a lighthouse.

Maybe a piece of your heart had always been with him. It was so easy to fall back into your old patterns, conversation flowing like water, his touch familiar and safe. When he'd kissed you, it was like you'd found the X on a map you didn't know you were following. Was it worth all the heartbreak you'd nursed for so long?

Billy's hand twitched on your thigh, squeezing lightly, and you decided it was.

Lying back down, you pressed your cheek to his chest, settling your hand over his heart and letting yourself relax. Subconsciously, Billy's arm tightened around you, and you felt your eyes growing heavier. In all the time you'd imagined being in love, you never thought you'd feel comfortable sleeping next to someone. Apparently, your imagination had steered you wrong. It felt so safe here, like his arms could ward off any darkness that crossed your path. Except of course, for the night, when he would make love to you and hold you until you both succumbed to your dreams.

As you drifted off again, cozy and sleepy, you could finally place the feeling that'd been knocking at your back.

Home. He made you feel like you were home.

Shielding your eyes from the sun, you peered out into the distance from the porch. James was supposed to be back by now with everything you'd sent him into town for. Normally you would've gone yourself, but today he'd insisted.

Not bothering to argue, you'd distracted yourself with chores, hoping it'd fill more hours than it had. The house was spotless now, the animals fed, dinner on the fire. The only thing missing was your brother.

Maybe he'd been held up in town. You wouldn't be surprised. There wasn't a soul your brother couldn't make friends with, and he put it to the test wherever he went. Leaning on the railing, you sighed, closing your eyes and trying to ignore the growling in your stomach. You were supposed to eat regularly, and your brother was aware of that. Ordinarily you'd go ahead and serve yourself up a portion, but one of the missing ingredients happened to be on the list you'd sent him out with.

It'd been a tense few months. There'd been troubles with the ranch hands, as well as a mysterious outbreak among the horses that only allowed one person to leave at a time. Not that you minded. It wasn't like you'd want to go to town anyways, for fear of who you'd see.

The ranch was distant enough to give you some peace. And you were able to avoid prying eyes, or whatever gossip could circulate. Now more than ever, you were wary of it. Ever since that night with Billy, truthfully. Last time you'd graced the bounds of town, you'd been on edge, scanning for familiar blue eyes, or curls peeking out from under his hat. Mercifully, he was nowhere to be found.

Time had passed. Enough time to grow bitter. The feeling left a bad taste in your mouth, but you couldn't spit it out. It had grown, twisting around your bones and wrapping fingers across your throat. If James had noticed, he hadn't said anything, though he didn't have to. The way he'd handled you lately told you everything you needed to know.

You bent your head, feeling slightly faint with hunger. Hair falling in front of your eyes, you stared down at the skirt of your loose-fitting dress. Sorting through what you had in the cabinets, you wondered if you could make do without what you'd been waiting on. As soon as you began to entertain the notion, it was dismissed. You'd been craving this soup all day, even in the warm of the dying summer. August was full of endings, and you felt as though you were hurrying along its departure by making something you usually reserved for winter.

Hoofbeats. Lifting your head, you perked up as you saw a horse in the distance, heading for you fast. Now you could make out James' familiar outline, of his hat and the dark grey shirt he'd left the house wearing this morning. Folding your arms and leaning back, you were ready to give him a hunger-induced earful for being late.

Squinting as he got closer, you could see the other rider behind him. From where they'd appeared on the horizon, you hadn't been able to make out the second horse, the other person tagging along. Smoothing your hair, you pushed aside any twinges of annoyance that came with James' apparent impromptu dinner invitation. You'd made enough food, surely, but you hadn't been expecting a visitor.

Your brother and his guest stopped, tying their horses and chatting all the while, the other man saying something that made your brother erupt in deep laughter as he hoisted his full bag from his horse. You stood up straight, thankful he'd at least followed the list.

Bounding up the stairs, James greeted you with a kiss to your cheek, holding your elbow with his free hand for a second. "You okay?" When you nodded, he squeezed, nodding briefly. "Got everything you asked for. And I brought Billy 'round for dinner."

Billy-?

You whipped to see the man standing at the bottom of the porch steps, hat in his hand as he looked up at you with those blue eyes that hadn't ever failed to put stars in yours. A tightness erupted in your chest, and you felt your expression drop. For a moment you were frozen, just staring at him.

Now memories from that night were stealing your vision. Waking up alone after falling back asleep, the spot next to you cold and empty. In fact, the room had been emptied of any remnant of him. The few possessions that had been strewn across the dresser had disappeared, along with his clothes, his boots, and his gun. When you looked out the window where the horses were tied up, his hadn't been among them. The only evidence he'd been there were the marks he'd left on your body and the indent in the other pillow.

He'd left you. Again.

Of course you'd felt stupid. Just like in your early youth, you'd fallen for his charm and heartbreak ensued. You should have known he hadn't changed. While the first time you'd been sad over it, now you were angry. And the following months only added fuel to your fire.

The way he'd looked at you had pulled you in, a lifeline in your sea of content misery. You'd been so hopeful, so happy over him that you hadn't taken any of the risk in mind. You didn't know what he'd been up to in the time that had passed. Seeing him in the bar that night, you hadn't asked questions, hadn't brought up anything about him leaving. It'd been nostalgic, a trick of the light that had you falling into his bed. And now you were paying the price for it.

All of this circled you like vultures over a fresh carcass as you stood there looking at him. He didn't break your gaze.

"C'mon, you're hungry, I know it," James said, putting his hand on your back and guiding you inside. "'m sorry I took so long. Didn't know Billy was back in town."

"Who would've guessed?" you asked, side-eyeing Billy as you allowed your brother to lead you in.

When you reached for his bag to dig out the soup's missing ingredient, James swatted your hand away. "You go sit. I know you've been on your feet too long today."

Billy looked at you curiously as you sat down, tucking your feet under the chair and chewing on your bottom lip. It felt embarrassing for your brother to be doing this right now, even though he had been for months. It was more that it was in front of Billy.

James started cutting the missing carrots, and you were left in silence with your unexpected guest as the sound of chopping filled the air. Billy shuffled where he stood, then decided to go into the kitchen. "I'll see if he needs any help." Only moments later he emerged, standing uncomfortably in front of the door.

You looked away, focusing on breathing in and out. Yet another thing you were supposed to do. Breathe and do it easy. It was okay. You'd been without him for months and you'd been fine. At least, that was what you had to tell yourself.

Billy sat across from you, and you could feel his eyes on you, though you didn't lift yours. Without looking, you knew his knee was bouncing, just a little. One of his nervous tics. "Didn't know James knew how to cook."

"He didn't until a few months ago." Your response was directed at the edge of the table, where your eyes followed the wooden pattern.

"How've you been?" he asked quietly, and you blinked.

It was a loaded answer. You didn't bother playing with telling him the truth. "Fine."

"James said you've been havin' a tough time," he muttered, and your eyes snapped up.

"What'd he say?" It came out harsher than you meant, and Billy's brow knit in confusion.

"Didn't say what about." Your shoulders slumped in relief, and he watched you suspiciously.

When you'd been his girl it'd been nearly startling how well he could read you. And the night you'd seen him again three months ago, it was evident how little that had changed. The way he'd been with your body against his, anticipating your needs, what you wanted him to do. He'd been perfect. It'd only made his leaving hurt more.

Opening his mouth, Billy began to ask you something but was interrupted by James bringing in the bowls of soup. You jumped up, but he shook his head. "Stay sitting. I'll get the other one." He kept leaving you alone with Billy. He didn't have a reason not to, but it still put you on edge. When your brother returned once more, some of the tension diffused, and you all lifted your spoons.

Dinner turned out well, even with the late addition of the carrots. James told a funny story about work that day and you finally cracked a smile, the burden on your heart lightening. When Billy answered James' question about what he'd been up to, you listened carefully, trying not to look like you were too interested.

"Had a bad run-in with a few folks from the last town I was in," he said, looking between you and James. The thumb of his hand on the table next to his empty bowl was tapping lightly, and you watched it. Up. Down. Up. Down. "Was actually here for a night a while ago but I had to skip again cause they found me."

You met his eyes, something chipping at the cast you'd put around your heart. That was why he'd left? Stiffening again, you looked down. He still could have said something. He'd had enough time to clear out his things, so he could have woken you or left a note or something. And then there was the matter of the first time he'd left too. A wound that hadn't healed, no matter how much you covered it and pretended it did.

James gave a low whistle. "You've had a real adventure. We're real glad to have you back, Billy."

"I shouldn't've ever left," he said, looking squarely at you. Heart thudding at your chest, you lowered your gaze.

Standing up, you fluffed your dress away from yourself, a habit. "I'm going to sit outside for a bit before bed."

James stood almost instantly, a hint of concern in his expression. "You feelin' okay? Need anything?"

"I'm fine," you promised, giving your dress another fluff. "I just want to watch the sunset." James accepted this, but you could feel Billy watching you leave.

Nearly collapsing on the front porch chair, you tried to focus on the sunset, counting the colors. This was an activity James had done with you one night when you were panicking, and it'd worked since. This was a different sort of panic, though. This was a disease eating at your insides, threatening to tear you in half.

You wouldn't deny you'd imagined seeing him again. Pictured what you'd say, what he'd say. But this was beyond what your mind could come up with. It was too soon. Too soon after everything. However much you'd thought you could handle had been an overestimation. No amount of time could have prepared you for his arrival here, in the one place you had left as refuge.

Red, blue, pink, orange. You made a list in your head. Clouds, grass, hills, trees. Maybe if you closed your eyes, everything would disappear. Every wrong sorrowful tragic aspect of your life gone in the blink of an eye.

How you wished these emotions had faded with time. If anything, the sand from the hourglass had coarsened them, created jagged shards of glass that cut you on the inside. At least nobody could see you bleeding.

When you heard boots on the floor, you stood, avoiding Billy's eyes as you watched the sun sink deeper into the earth. His scent hadn't changed- it was something distinct and all him. It permeated the air, nearly suffocating you.

"I'm sorry." He said it softly. You didn't bother looking. "I know me showin' up like this upset you-"

"I don't care what you do, Billy." Your tone was colder than you meant it to be, and beneath the shell you put around the woman you used to be, she winced.

"Sweetheart-" he paused when you winced. "I did a bad thing, I know. I hurt you-"

"You hurt me before," you whispered, looking up at him blankly. "I don't care."

Billy's face didn't change. You wished he would stop looking at you like that, like he'd stumbled on treasure in the desert. His mouth was flattened, like a ridge. Where tension had dissolved before, now it was stretched taut, ready to snap. Biting the side of your cheek, you fought the tears that threatened to make an appearance, but it was like trying to hold a bursting closet door shut.

When his hand found your face, you closed your eyes, humiliated as a tear slipped through the cracks, your facade crumbling. His course thumb caught it, and you lifted your lids, eyes hardening.

"Talk to me," he breathed, searching your eyes. You froze as two more tears slipped from your eyes and cascaded down your cheeks. The truth was at the tip of your tongue, but you kept your mouth shut. If he knew, it could ruin everything.

"I'm fine," you managed, but he held firm, shaking his head. "Billy," you started, voice firm as it could be. "Just go. It doesn't matter."

"It does matter-"

"You left me!" Taking a step back, you stared up at him, no longer caring if you cried. "You left me twice without ever saying a word and this time you left me-" Stopping short, your eyes widened slightly as you realized what you'd almost said.

"What?" Billy closed the gap between you, searching your eyes and grasping your shoulders, his touch causing you to stiffen. You hated that you wanted it, wanted him to pull you into his arms and tell you everything was okay. "I know somethin' happened, what-?"

You sniffled, smoothing a nervous hand over your midsection without thinking. His gaze dropped, and he froze. As soon as you realized what you'd done, you tried to step away but he held you firm, eyes never straying.

"You're-" Billy swallowed, growing pale at the notion. "Sweetheart, you're-"

Now your vision was blurry, hot tears springing and falling without your permission. You folded your arms over yourself, feeling your hands start to shake. Billy's hands flew to your cheeks, tilting your face up so you were looking at him, into those deep blue eyes that had gotten you into this mess to begin with. In the softest voice you could imagine, he asked, "Is it mine?" Sniffling once, you nodded. Billy exhaled, one hand sliding to your crown and pulling you into his chest. You didn't fight him.

Being back in his arms was a daydream you'd let yourself indulge in only a few times. But no amount of imagining compared to the real thing. He engulfed you, pulling you in like you'd been lost at sea,

Sinking into him, you could feel yourself breaking. This is what you had craved ever since you'd found out, the itch only he could scratch. When he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, you closed your eyes. "I needed you."

"I know." His voice was unsteady, nearly breaking as he tightened his arms around you. "I know. I'm so sorry, sweetheart." You hid your face in his chest and he smoothed your hair, voice sounding frantic. "I shouldn't've left..."

"I needed you," you repeated desperately, and you swore you felt a tear fall into your hair.

"'m sorry." The emotion in his voice had you grasping at his shirt, trembling as he lowered you both to the ground. He started to rock back and forth, rubbing a hand up and down your back. "I left you alone, I left you-" he cut himself off, burying his face in your hair. Tentatively, you lifted a hand, sinking into his dark curls. The familiarity prompted another tear or two out of you.

When you noticed it'd grown dark, you pulled yourself away, wiping your eyes and risking a look at him. He was solemn, eyes roving over you. It was a look you recognized. Checking, making sure everything was okay. You brushed away another tear, whispering, "It's okay."

"It's not." Billy reached for your hand, eyes soft.

"I've been fine without you, Billy," you snapped, pulling away before his fingers could brush yours. "You don't have to do anything for me."

"I'm not just gonna leave-"

"You had no problem doing it before," you cut him off, reaching up and gripping the porch railing to get to your feet. The sting of humiliation was already coursing through you, and your instinct was to run. "Just go. I'm fine."

Without another look, you strode into the house, making a beeline for your room and shutting the door. Not one set of footsteps, Billy's or your brother's, dared follow you.

Lifting a hand to your face, you slid against the door, body shaking again with tears.

"Outta the way!"

You nearly dropped the plate in your hands, watching your brother stumble into the room with a limp, staggering Billy supported by his shoulder. Blood soaked the blue of his shirt, and your heart gave a pang. Feeling faint, you watched in a daze as he propped him up on the kitchen table, speaking lowly. James looked up, silently shooing you from the room. Turning on your heel, you fled and shut the door behind you, heart pounding in your ears.

Billy's presence on the ranch had been nearly constant since he found out that night, acting as a shadow toward you. Your brother, ever kindhearted, had hired him on, insisting he give work to his oldest friend. You'd protested but stopped once he started to question why it bothered you so much. Catching yourself, you realized James was bound to find out sooner or later. If you kept arguing, it would be sooner.

To Billy's credit, he kept his mouth shut about the paternity of your child. But that didn't mean he kept to himself. It seemed that every second he had away from work he spent at your side, pestering and fussing over you, constantly asking if you were okay, if you needed anything and maybe you should sit down because he didn't want you to get too tired. It was overbearing, and you fought him at every turn.

"Darlin'-" he'd protest, trying to guide you to a chair. "You gotta rest, alright? For you 'n the baby. Please?" Sometimes you would sit down begrudgingly, his pleading blue eyes persuading you into his way. Others, you would push away his hands, some sharp-tongued comment leaving your mouth as you stormed away to be anywhere but near him. Your emotions were running wild, a something you attributed to the new life growing inside you. Although, the circumstances surrounding the arrival of the baby's father couldn't have helped.

Still, he persisted. It was impressive, really. The way he kept at it, never once giving up. Whenever you burst out and told him to leave you alone, he just stood there, letting you take it out on him. It always ended in tears.

You cried more now than you ever had before, in private most often. Really, your head was all muddled from everything happening all at once. Billy was trying to flow seamlessly back into your life, but you wouldn't let him. He didn't deserve to get back in so easily this time.

But now as you paced the length of the living room, anxiety squeezing your heart and hammering at your ribs, the only thing in your heart was regret. A fierce sickness that clouded your senses and brought tears to your eyes. What if he died? What if the father of your child died and you could have forgiven him and you didn't? He'd hurt you, there was no doubt about it. But he cared. He'd proved it a million times since he found out, putting down roots just in case you decided you wanted him.

Here, as you shuddered and shook over the idea of losing him, you knew it was more than that.

"Hey-" At the sound of your brother's voice, your head snapped up. James looked harried, clenching his jaw as he ran a hand over his hair. "He's askin' for you. I can't do anything 'nless he sits still-"

"I'm coming." Your feet were moving before you knew it, and you stepped past James into the kitchen, heading straight for Billy.

The moment he saw you, he reached out, motions almost drunken. "Baby..." he slurred, catching your hand. "So...so pretty. Prettiest girl in the west..."

"Billy what happened?" you asked, squeezing his hand, brow scrunched. You were trying to ignore the blood on his shirt, the red growing deeper by the second. James was fetching something in the other room, bandages most likely.

"Shoot...shootout, darlin'..." he managed, grinning up at you and wincing when he shifted. The pain must be making him woozy. "Don' worry 'bout me..."

"Why were you in a shootout?" you asked, horrified. Holding his hand close to your heart, you whispered, "You weren't on the ranch."

"Tryna make a lil' extra, honey." Billy reached out with his other hand, cupping your face. "F' the baby. 'n you." He pulled your fingers down to his lips. "Wanna marry you, pretty. Do it right..." Wincing, he tried to continue. "Didn't do right by ya the first time...wanna make it better..."

James interrupted, arriving with a messy pile of medical supplies in his arms. "Give him some laudanum." He shoved the bottle and a spoon into your hands, not seeming to notice the look on your face leftover from what Billy said. Almost stiffened by shock, you measured the amount and fed it to him, praying it would kick in sooner rather than later.

"Good. Help me get his shirt off." James nodded at Billy. In your condition, your brother wouldn't dare have you help with something like this unless it were dire.

With shaky hands, you got to work, ignoring the way Billy was blatantly watching you, as if you were a saint in a storm. You didn't grimace when his blood stained your hands, peeling the shirt away from his chest and working his arm out one side while James did the other. He tossed it to the side, tearing his eyes away from Billy. "You're gonna talk to 'im okay? Distract him cause I dunno when the medicine'll kick in."

"Okay," you whispered, still staring into Billy's eyes. They were clouded over, his head lulling. When James started to dab at the affected area, Billy gritted his teeth, grunting and reaching for your hand on his uninjured side.

You remembered your job, squeezing his hand. "I..." Panic was seizing you, holding your tongue. James gave you a look, and you were kicked into action. "It's okay. You're gonna be okay. We're gonna get you fixed up, alright?" Tears pricked at your eyes. "Billy, you've gotta hang on, alright? I...we need you. Both of us." You weren't talking about you and James.

Billy's eyes went soft, and he held fast to your hand, looking up at you like a puppy. You wouldn't be surprised if he melted off the table, a snowdrift in the sun. James was hard at work, and you avoided looking. You never wanted to see this much of Billy's blood again.

A thousand questions poked at your tongue, things you wanted to ask your brother, ask the father of your child, but you held back. Later you'd interrogate them all you wanted, but for now Billy's safety was at stake.

"Need to sit him up," James finally said, sliding his arm under Billy's shoulders. "Here- get on the table and keep 'im steady." You scooted up, feeling numb as you went through the motions. Billy looked dazed, but he was still as you tucked your shoulder under his arm, back against his side. His fingers splayed out, seemingly searching for something, and you gave him your hand.

James wrapped the bandage around Billy's middle, and you shifted your body as needed, still pressed to him. It was precautionary; he wasn't nearly out of it enough that he'd have trouble staying upright. But you found yourself wanting to stay, your mind telling you that if you left for even a second, he'd collapse and never wake up.

"Alright." James stood up, nudging his chair back. "He's gonna be fine. Was just a graze, so we'll check it every little bit."

Your eyes were on the ground, Billy's hand in yours the only thing you were aware of. The pounding of your heart slowed when it was confirmed that he would be okay, but you still wanted to cry. You almost lost him today, with every unsaid thing still poking at your backs.

James managed to guide him out of the kitchen, depositing him in his own bedroom for now. You trailed in behind them, unable to tear your eyes away from Billy, shirtless and bandaged, his eyes fluttering shut as the lingering opium in his system lured sleep to him. He's safe. He's safe, you repeated to yourself. He's safe.

Turning to James, you hissed, "What the hell were you doing that ended in a gunfight?"

Swallowing, your brother shifted on his feet. "Was a job. We've done 'em before 'n everything was fine but this time..." he winced. "'nother gang showed up and they wouldn't back off. We're lucky he wasn't hurt worse."

You stood shocked, eyes wide. "A job-"

"Before you say anythin'-" James held up his hands. "Billy was stubborn 'bout it. He wanted...well..." His eyes fell to your midsection, which became more swollen by the day. "He's been lookin' for ways to make more money for you 'n..."

Your heart sank. He knew. Turning to look at the man sleeping on the bed, you felt another wave of emotion crash over you.

"He cares a lot about you," James said quietly. "He woulda done it without my help, but it's a good thing he didn't."

Silent, you fought back tears, regret welling up like a river after the first snowfall. All this time while you'd been pushing him away and insisting you didn't need him, he'd been working for you. For your future, and for the baby. You knew all too well that any other man would have run for the hills and left you with "your" problem, but not Billy.

You'd been taking him for granted. And it had almost killed him.

Looking back at your brother, you whispered, "I can watch him for awhile. You go clean up. You can use my room if you need some rest." The sun was still high in the sky, but James looked exhausted. He merely nodded, meandering away after a final glance at Billy.

James' footsteps thumped away, and you sank into a chair close to Billy, watching the rise and fall of his chest like his life depended on it.

Sliding a hand over your belly, you found yourself trying not to cry again. For months you'd had yourself convinced that you didn't need him, that you could do this on your own. Have the baby and do the best you could, all the while nursing an ache that you refused to admit was there.

A tear bubbled up, spilling from your eye, and you sniffled, looking down and swiping at it. It proved to be pointless when more sprouted, flowing down your cheeks faster than you could get rid of them. You took in a sharp breath, letting your hand drop to your lap as you cried silently, the tightness in your chest nearly suffocating.

You nearly jumped when you felt a hand on your knee, palm warm as it rested there. When you looked up at Billy, his eyes were open, brow scrunched in concern. You tried to clear your tears with your hand again, but he squeezed your thigh.

"Sweetheart..." his voice was sleepy. "What's wrong?"

"Go back to sleep, Billy," you tried, blinking rapidly, sniffling and setting your other hand on his. "You need to rest."

"Been tellin' you the same thing for weeks," he mumbled, shifting to the side and lifting his hand from your leg, effectively opening his arm. "C'mere." When you only stared at him, the corners of his lips turned up just slightly. "'s okay. We both need it."

All resolve gone, you found yourself obliging, crawling into bed with him on his uninjured side and letting him guide your head to his shoulder, body relaxing once it was against his. As you settled into him, his hand found its way around your waist, the tips of his fingers on your swollen tummy. It felt like a missing piece of you sliding into place.

"I'm sorry." The words fell out of your mouth, and Billy hummed, rubbing your side.

You couldn't see his face, but you knew the furrow in his brows hadn't unfolded. "What for?"

Everything. There were a million things you wanted to say, but they all fell short when you lifted your head to look up at him. Earnest blue eyes, hitched to you like you were the one thing keeping him from floating into the stars. Swallowing, you whispered, "You got hurt...because of me..."

"No." Billy's hand pressed at your side until you laid back down. "No, that wasn't your fault. Was a stupid thing to do."

"You were doing it for me..." you whispered, more tears blurring your vision. "And I haven't been kind to you since you came back."

"Hey-" Billy grunted as he sat up a little, bringing you with him. Leaning against the headboard, his fingers drew a soothing vertical pattern at your waist. He searched your eyes, shaking his head. "I shouldn't've left. It's the worst thing I ever did. Leavin' you alone after what we did..." he exhaled deeply, mouth flattened. "It was bad enough I did it the first time."

"But you had a reason...'n I shouldn't have been so mad..." you whispered.

He thumbed the side of your face, eyes tender. "I thought I was protecting you." His shoulders slumped. "But all I did was hurt you."

"It's okay," you breathed, holding his wrist. There was no bitterness or loathing or grudges behind it. Everything that had happened was in the past. He was here now.

"It's not," Billy mumbled, but his expression lightened. You knew your anger at him must have taken a toll, and it must have been a relief not to have it burning him anymore. He brought his hand to the back of your head, stroking your hair with his thumb. "You know I've loved you all this time? Think there's somethin' wrong with me. Like I'm cursed. Bad things happen to the ones I love and it's usually my fault."

"No, bad things happen to everyone," you corrected, heart aching. Swallowing, you softly said, "I've loved you too. All the while."

Billy paused, his eyes softening. The way he watched your expression like he was making sure it wasn't a trick broke your heart all over again. He'd been hurting just as much as you, and you'd been too caught up to notice.

You leaned forward, catching his lips in a soft kiss, careful not to lean on his injured side. He used his hand at your crown to hold you to him, mouth moving slow and steady and easy, the feeling of his mouth against yours nearly convincing you he never left. You may as well have been eighteen again, fresh in love and invincible.

Pulling back, Billy brushed a kiss to your nose, than your forehead, and you closed your eyes. His hand found your tummy again, hold protective. "I love you. You and the baby."

"I love you," you whispered, meaning every syllable. Billy relaxed back into the bed, pulling you down with him and grinning when your belly poked him in the side. You nuzzled your head into his shoulder, eyes falling shut. "I've wanted you with me but I didn't know how to say it..."

"I wanted you too." Billy smoothed your hair, kissing your head. "I wanted to be here for you."

"You have been. Over and over," you promised, hand rubbing his chest. His skin was warm, and you felt sleepy just lying against it. "Over...and over..."

As you drifted off into dreamland, a part of you panicked, remembering the last time you'd fallen asleep next to him. A voice told you to keep your eyes open, to make sure he wouldn't run.

But when he pulled you in impossibly closer, laying another kiss to your head and sleepily mumbling that he loved you, the voice disappeared. You shifted comfortably, knowing when you woke up, he would still be here.

He would stay.

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