#asofou

[k4marina]

— Prologue: Dragonstone|| Heart of the Dragon

synopsis: a trip to Dragonstone goes a little wrong, or does it?

game of thrones x modern!reader

4.5k+ word count

sereis masterlist || next part

"Why are we doing this during the hottest day of the year, again?" Daeron mutters, using the brochure that was given to us at the beginning of the tour as a fan.

If I could, I would've replied, but the heat was also getting to me, draining away my energy. And, on top of the scorching heat, I'd just finished the last of my water. I pursed my lips together, the line wasn’t that long and I’m sure I can buy another overpriced water bottle after we visited the caves.

The group tour guide turned back to us, just as exhausted, and somewhat bashful. He said something, but I couldn't be bothered with it as I was too focused to not tip over from the heat. It was probably something like “only a few more minutes and we’ll be outta the heat, folks,” with an awkward smile or something.

The line to the caves under the castles was stupidly long, but it's no surprise. So much history was in those caves and so many mysteries had come full circle there. And, the deeper they dug, the more they uncovered the history of the Targaryens that lived there from when Aenar Targaryen moved his entire family to Dragonstone after his daughter, Daenys “the Dreamer” dreamed of the Doom of Valyria. 

"Who's idea was it to come here for our research trip?" I didn't bother looking over at him, knowing that I'd be blinded by the sun that shone directly behind his big head.

“Shut up. Your voice is giving me a headache.” I quipped. “Besides, almost everything on this island is connected to the Targaryens. It might come useful when we have to write our research paper.”

The line moved up until our group was at the front of the line. A small group of students, along with Daeron and I, were on Dragonstone for our research projects. Some of the other students had decided to stay in Kings Landing or go to other parts of Westeros for their research.

Everyone was to spend a week in their respective areas and gather all the information they needed before heading back to Kings Landing to write and then later present their topics. Some chose to do it themselves whilst others, like us, decided to go with someone else.

Today was the first day of our stay on Dragonstone. Daeron and I had decided to check out the caves and the island's beaches before we would explore the labyrinth-like castle.

I rubbed the side of my head, feeling a headache approaching. My hand reached up to my necklace that rested on my chest. The chain was long enough for it to hang in the dip of my breast.

Not only did I come here for my project, but also for me. The necklace around my neck has been in my family for generations, but no one knows from where. It’s made entirely of Valyrian Steel, which was rare back in the day, and even rarer now.

As a child, I didn’t think much of it. It wasn’t until I grew older and more curious that I started asking questions. First to my family, but all I got was even more confusing answers that led me nowhere. Then I turned towards the internet, scouring for hours until I had found it.

On the official Dragonstone website, I found pictures of the caves under the castle and possibly under the entire island. On one of the walls was a crude hand drawing of my necklace. Two dragons around a sword with a ruby in the middle –though, the ruby was replaced with a red dot. Regardless, the cave painting matched. 

The line moved up and Daeron gently pushed me up while I was lost in my thoughts. “You good?” He asks. I nod, “Yeah. The heat’s just a lot.” He gives an understanding look. Once the tour guide is given the green light, he begins to lead up to the entrance of the cave.

"Ready?" Daeron asks. I nodded and we begin walking. Once we entered the cave, my jaw was on the floor. I had seen pictures of the caves, but seeing it in real life was far more beautiful.

The deeper we got we could see the cave paintings done by the Children of the Forest which Daenerys and Jon had found. As the guide droned on about the cave paintings, I could feel my headache intensify. Why was it so hot in here? 

The deeper and deeper we went into the caves, the worse it got. My chest started to feel heavy. I struggled to put one foot in front of the other. The back of my throat burned and I felt like throwing up, but I pushed forward. 

My eyes raked the the cave walls, Where was it? Finally, I was able to see it. The markings were next to a few unknown ones. A sign with some information was hung up next to it. Despite my head pounding I was still able to read the bold words. 

Unknown markings made by who researchers believe are the Targaryens. The paint used seemed to be as old as when Aenar Targaryen moved his family to Dragonstone.

By the time I finished reading, I could feel my head pounding so loudly in my ear. It felt like an ice pick was being hammered into the side of my head. I could hear muffled voices call out, but to who I didn’t know. The room started to spin and a ringing sound filled my ears.

A hand, most likely Derons, reached out and turned me around. I could see his mouth moving, but no words coming out. My chest felt like it was overheating while my head continued to throb. Everything turned blurry and then it went black.

When I woke up, I was still in the cave. The cold stone floor had helped with bringing my body temperature down. And, my head didn't hurt anymore. After getting up, I looked around the cave. It was darker, and quiet.

Where was everyone?

Carefully, I made my way out of the cave. It was harder to walk out of the cave and the spotlights that were on the walls weren’t on. Once I was outside I was met with the night sky.

All the tents and other buildings around the beach were gone, as if they'd never been there.

Okay, this is weird.

"Hello?" My voice came out horse like I hadn’t spoken in a long time. "Hello? Is anyone there? Daeron?" 

My feet moved on their own and I tried to find someone, anyone. But there was no one. How could a populated area with tents and buildings disappear within hours?

Retracing my steps, I found the stairs that would lead me back to the Help Center that were posted around for lost tourists, but like the beach, there was nothing. Matter a fact, even the lamppost that were posted into the ground, the banners, the signs –everything was gone.

"What the actual fuck?" Panic creeped up and I could feel my heart thumping in my ears. "Gods, If this is some kinda sick fucking joke..."

At this point, I was running towards the castle. For what? I didn't know, but surely there had to be something there. The grand doors seemed to be closed so I tried to find another way in. I guess you could say I found something like a side door that took a little force to open. 

The inside of the castle was grand. High walls, banners held high, candles and lamps lit all around. Truly, it was amazing. As I was gawking at the architecture I failed to notice unknown voices walking towards me. 

“Halt!” Two unknown men dressed in what looked like armor cornered me, pointing their spears at me. “State your name! Who are you?” 

I stuttered out my name, raising my hands up so they could see I wasn’t a threat. “I’m not going to do anything, I swear.” 

The two men shared a look and a few hushed words before one of them walked over to me, grabbing my arm roughly and pulling me along. 

“Ow!” I tried to pull back, but his grip was too strong. “What the fuck dude. I said I wasn’t a threat.”

“Khaleesi will decide if you are or are not a threat.” The man who wasn’t holding onto me said. 

Khaleesi? What Khaleesi?

“Oh please don’t tell me I just walked into those real-life roleplaying things.” I groaned, earning side eyes from both of the men. 

They led me down a series of hall ways, each one intricate as the other until we stood outside of a set of polished stone double doors. Another pair of men dressed just like the cosplayers that brought me here stood in front of the doors. Without having to say any words they opened the grand doors. 

Slowly, I could see the inside being revealed. 

There, on the elevated platform stood the Throne of Dragonstone, where all the Targaryen heirs of the Iron Throne sat as they took the title “Prince of Dragonstone.” A light push brought me back as I was dragged closer to the throne. 

“Khaleesi,” the guard called out. Before I could ask who they were speaking to, an unknown voice answered. 

“What is it?” 

Light footsteps were heard from behind a wall and a woman emerged from behind it. Except it wasn’t just any woman. Even a child would know who she was. Everyone around the world knows her. 

She was Daenerys Targaryen. 

Mother of Dragons. 

The Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea.

The Unburnt.

The Breaker of Chains. 

I could feel time slow down as I watched her walk over to the throne and sit down. My blood turned cold as she sat in front of me. 

No.

No.

She’s dead.

This can’t be happening.

It’s not possible.

It’s not. I have better chances of reviving dragons than traveling back in time-

“What is this?” Daenerys eyed me, confused at my appearance and why I was even here before looking at the two men. 

“We found this unknown woman wandering around the castle, Your Grace.” 

She eyed me, as if wanting me to plead my case, but the words died in my throat. Why wouldn’t they when Daenerys fucking Targaryen was right in front of me. A million thoughts ran through my head, but I couldn’t rack my brain to find one answer. 

Daenerys squinted before speaking again, this time directly towards me. “Who are you?” The High Valyrian rolled easily off of her tongue like a true Targaryen. Those three words held so much power and conviction, like a true Queen.

“Y/n Vellarys!…” I rushed to reply in Valyrian. 

“You speak good Valyrian.” She praises, but it's quickly pushed away. “But that doesn’t explain what you are doing here.”

What should I do? I bit my bottom lip as nervousness filled my body. 

Knowing that if I lie, I’ll be fileted, I took a deep breath before responding. “I don't know. I.. I,” I paused, not knowing if I should continue. If this was real then I only wanted her to know, “Can we be alone.. please?” 

The two men besides me visibly tense up, but don’t speak up. Daenerys looks down at us, seemingly in thought before she nodded. The two men bow before turning around to leave. The double doors closed with a loud thud. 

“We’re alone now, you may continue.” 

I nervously swallowed. Here we go. “This might sound weird, but.. I don’t know how I got here. I.. I woke up in the caves under the castle… alone.”

Daenerys’ face stayed neutral as I relayed the information. She seemed to take some time to process what I had just said. “Do you think I’m a fool?” 

I could feel my heart fall all the way down. Fuck.

“You woke up in the caves alone?” She repeats. “Not even a child would come up with such a stupid story like this.”

“N-n-no, Daener- I mean, Your Grace. I swear to the Gods that I’m telling the truth. I have no reason to lie to you. Especially when you could get rid of me with your dragons in a second.”

She seemed to mull over my words, as if weighing her options. “Alright, let's say you’re telling the truth. Your story still doesn’t make sense. How do you just “wake up” in a cave?” 

Now or never, I guess. 

“Actually,” I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. “I’m not from here. I come from-” The future. Fucking hell, how cliché. “-I come from a different… time.” 

Daenerys squinted and I could see the clogs in her brain moving. “You mean you’re from the future?” 

Jeez. Ripped the bandage right off. 

“Well –uh, yes,” I say. “I was touring the caves and then I –I fell unconscious or something, I still don’t know, I just know that when I woke up I ended up here.” 

I let out a frustrated sigh. What if this was just a dream and that all of this is just my imagination running wild. 

“That necklace.” 

Huh? What is she talking about? 

 I looked up, confused. “What?” 

She pointed towards my chest. I looked down and I could see my necklace was out. “What about it?” I asked.

“Where did you get it?” 

“It’s mine.” I replied. “It’s been in my family for generations. Why?” 

Now it was Daenerys’ turn to look a little nervous. 

“I’ve seen it in my dream.”

“Your dream? Like, one of those Dragon Dreams?” I ask. She gives a nod, “While we were sailing to Dragonstone I had a dream of a woman with silver hair and that necklace. Because I couldn’t see her face, I thought it was me. I’ve turned the treasury over looking for them; however, it seems that I dreamt of you.”

Ho-ly Fuck. Daenerys’ dreamt about me. What the hell. I’m about to throw up. 

“What?” Now it was my time to be skeptical of what was being said. “You dreamt about me and my necklace?”

She nodded. “It seems odd, but a Dragon Dream has never been wrong.”

“Ture, but that still leaves a lot of blanks.” My hand subconsciously went up to hold my necklace while I tried to think back. 

The deeper I walked into the cave the more my head started to hurt, but that was most likely because of dehydration… probably. But then there was a burning feeling on my chest when I looked at the symbol on the wall that matched my necklace and the burning feeling got even more intense and it felt like it was about to burn my skin-

“Fuck.” I groaned, letting go of the necklace. The outburst made Daenerys frown, “Are you alright?”

I looked down at my hands and at my necklace before looking into her eyes. “I think my necklace tried to burn me, like last time.” 

“Last time?” She frowned. “How can a necklace burn someone?”

“I don’t know. It happened before I passed out in the cave.” I let out a sigh. “Gods, what is going on.” 

“It seems that this was the God's doing,” Daenerys says, as if it was a fact. “They’ve brought you here.” 

“The Gods?” I repeat. Sure, in some sense they did bring me here. “But why?” 

“That may be something for you to find out.” Daenerys stood from the throne, walking down the steps until she was right in front of me. “I was lost once, but then the Gods gifted me my children to show me my true purpose.” 

“The Iron Throne.” I thought back to my history classes where I learned that for the fight for the Iron Throne, Daenerys lost her life as she fell into what historians said was “Targaryen Madness,” but I’ve always felt that there’s more to it. 

“It’s late, I’ll have the servants bring you to a spare room for you to rest in for the night.” As if on cue, the guards from before stepped up to us. “We can talk further tomorrow morning.”

Daenerys turned to leave from where she came from. The guards bowed as she left. Once she was gone they brought me to a spare room somewhere in the castle, this time without having to pull me around. 

The hallways were nearly empty, meaning there weren’t a lot of people living here or servants working in the castle. The most I’d seen was guards posted around. Once we were in front of two thick double doors the guards stepped back waiting for me to open them. 

It took a little force to open the door, but once I was inside, my jaw was on the floor. Despite everything being made of stone, the walls were covered in rich tapestry. There was a giant bed with lavish looking furs laid atop the bed and maroon bed sheets. 

Behind me, a servant walked in with a few sets of clothes and laid them on the bed. “We’ve prepared you some clothes,” she said. “Would you like to change now or take a bath?” 

As if on cue, I could feel how dirty I was since I was practically on the cave floors for Gods knows how long. 

“A bath would be fine, thank you,” I replied. It honestly felt weird watching servants work. Not that it was bad, just the fact that in the modern day you don’t have them. Sure maybe someone who cleans your home or makes you food, but servants?

Once they had pulled out the massive tub and manually poured in the hot water they led me to the tub. One of their hands went up to my shirt's edge and the other to my pants. 

“W-wait!” They all looked at me confused. 

“Is everything alright, My Lady?” One of the servants asked. 

No it’s not. You’re taking my clothes off. And sure, it’s your job to do practically everything for a highborn, but that ain’t me. 

“Uh, there’s no need for… all of this. I can do it myself.” 

“Are you sure?” Another girl asked. “It’s our duty to serve you.” 

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure.” I replied awkwardly. “Just not really used to all of… this. Um, anyways I can take it from here. You guys can go…” 

I internally cringed at my words. Gods, I sounded like an idiot, but could you blame me? 

The girls reluctantly agreed, leaving me alone in the room. Once they were gone I let out a sigh and began to undress myself. The water was hot, but it was fine since I practically liked showering in lava every morning. 

Settling into the tub I finally relaxed. This entire thing was just so… bizarre. At first, I thought it was some sort of dream, but that searing pain I felt wasn’t something I could just imagine. 

My necklace burned me. 

And it burned me when I first saw the markings on the cave walls. I looked down at my chest and hand, but saw nothing. 

Okay, weird. 

That aside, why was I even brought here? Why me? What do I have that made me so special that I had to be flung into this era of time?

“Think, y/n, think,” I muttered to myself. The dream. Daenerys’ dream about the necklace. But wait, no history books said anything about her having a dragon dream. Could this maybe be connected?  

For the next hour, I mulled over my options while I soaked in the tub that had turned lukewarm. Having enough, I got up and grabbed the towels that the servants had thankfully set close for me. 

The clothes that they had laid out for me were a bunch of nightgowns. Thankfully, they were my size. I decided to wear a simple white nightgown. 

Laying under the mountain of covers and blankets, I finally let myself completely relax, falling asleep. Hopefully tomorrow’s discussions can help this situation get better or at least easier. 

I woke up to the sun glaring down into my face. Groaning, I turned to my side, hoping to get some more sleep. But the damage was done. 

I could hear light shuffling in the room and things being moved around. When I opened my eyes, I was nearly flash-banged. All the windows (that are floor to ceiling length) were opened and the curtains were drawn back. 

A few servants from last night and a few new faces worked around the room. I sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes, catching the attention of one of the girls. 

“Good morning, My Lady. Did you sleep well?” 

“Morning,” my voice came out a little low and rough. “What’s going on?” 

“We’re getting you ready for the day,” the girl replies, matter of factly. “You will be having your morning meal with the Queen. We’ve already drawn you a fresh new bath and arranged a new set of clothes.” 

I looked at where the tub was last night, nothing that was gone, along with my clothes. 

“Where are my clothes?” I asked. 

“We’ve sent them to get washed,” the servant replied. “My Lady, if i may…” 

I nodded for her to go on. “We’ve never seen such clothes like yours before. They remind us of what the men wear however, yours are a bit more.. different.” 

“Oh, that. They’re just something that I made.” I lied. Thinking back to last night, I’m confused I didn’t get as many weird looks as I should have wearing my jeans and shirt. It's not really the typical Westerosi fashion for this time. 

“The bath is ready.” Another girl says. 

Reluctantly, I got out of bed, following them to another room adjacent to this one. The room was a massive bathroom that could function as a bathhouse. 

There was a massive tub nestled into the floor. The windows were also huge but a little higher up, letting in some natural light. I could tell the water was hot just by how much it was steaming. 

Carefully, the servants began to undress me. They led me into the water and began adding what I can only assume are oils and salts. Truthfully, it felt like I was at some fancy spa with how they washed my body and hair. 

Once that was done, they helped me into a beautiful white dress with a dark teal and gold design. I felt like a model wearing such a beautiful dress. I let my hair down, not wanting it in any style (or knowing any styles of this period). 

A servant walked me to the dining room where Daenerys was waiting for me. She wore a light blue dress with her hair braided and her three headed dragon pin.  

“Good Morning,” she greeted. 

“Morning uh, Your grace.”  I replied. “Sorry, I’ve never called anyone “your grace” before.” 

She brushed it off, motioning for me to take a seat next to her at the table where the food was already prepared. 

“How did you sleep?” She asks, beginning to eat. 

“Fine, surprisingly.” I reached down to grab a fork for my food. “How about you?” 

Was I really making small talk with Daenerys Targaryen? 

“Mine as well,” she smiled. “I was hoping we could talk a little before I had to go meet my small council.” 

“Okay, what did you want to talk about?” I wanted to smack myself. Every time I spoke it was full of nerves and anxiety. 

“Let’s start with you. Your name and where you’re from.” Daenerys says confidently. “Judging by your looks, you’re of Valyrian descent.” She says, eyeing my silver hair. 

“Yes,” I nodded. “My family moved from Volantis to the Eyrie. My family is known to be of the Old Blood in Volantis.” 

“The Old Blood?” Daenerys says, surprised. 

The Old Blood are a group of people in Volantis that have proven to be the last remaining families of Valyria. They live in a perched area of the city that only they can walk. All the families in that area still continue their Valyrian traditions and practices, just minus the dragons. 

I nodded, “My father is the youngest of four sons, so he thought ‘why not move to westeros and start something there?’ knowing that he wouldn’t have to really carry on the family name.” 

“And your family name is Vellarys?” She recalled from last night. 

“Yes. We’re known for our jewelry making in Volantis. That’s why my father moved to Westeros, to open a shop there without having to take over the business and stress like his older brother.

“As for myself, I have two older brothers. One is working to be a doctor,” Daenerys frowned at that, confused, “uh, it’s like a Maester. The other is helping my father run the shop.” 

“And what about yourself?” 

“I’m in school. I go to the University of Kings Landing.” 

“The.. University of… Kings Landing?” 

“Well, after the monarchy was sorta let go, they turned certain parts of the Red Keep and other castles into Universites -places to go for higher studies, like the.. Citadel for example.” 

Daenerys nods, understanding some of it. 

“I study the era of The Game of Thrones as well as Targaryen History.” 

“The Game of Thrones?” She repeats. “What is that?” 

“It’s, uh, what we call this time period. It ranged from the death of King Robert to,” the death of Daenerys Targaryen, “to now, and a little later. We look into how the events after Robert’s death played out and how people fought for the Iron Throne.” 

“Like a game.” She says. 

I nodded. “Yes, like a game. There’s this quote that Cersie Lannister said to Ned Stark that summed it up, “When you play the game of thrones, You win or you die,”.”

“I see,” Daenerys looks down at her plate in thought. “And what about me?” 

Oh fuck. 

“What about you?” I say, acting innocent. 

“What happened to me?” 

I purse my lips together. Should I say it? I mean, it’s a good segway to what I want to really say… if this part goes well. 

“You…” I nervously swallowed. “You die… before you could even claim the throne.” 

The fork in her hand hits the ceramic plate with a loud clunk. 

“What?” 

Nervously, I looked into her. “You were killed… after you burned Kings Landing to ashes.” 

She frowned. “You're lying. I would never do such a thing. Me? Burning down Kings Landing? 

And the Red Keep, but I’ll keep that to myself. 

“I’m not lying, Daenerys. After you died, Drogon picked you up and flew you away. We still haven’t found your or his body.” 

Daenerys' hands started to shake at the information I had just thrown at her. Carefully, I placed mine over hers. 

“Daenerys,” I said softly. “Breath. You’re fine, nothing has happened so far.” 

Slowly, I could feel her hands stop shaking and her breathing seemed to steady. 

“What do you mean so far?” 

I gave her hand an encouraging squeeze although, I can’t tell if it was for me or her. 

“Meaning, I can help you.” 

She looks at me, puzzled. 

“Daenerys, I can help you take the Iron Throne.” 

okayyyy so it's finally here after many rewrites. let me know if you guys liked the first person POV. its my first time writing it like this, typically i do second POV. more to come in later chapters. also, i will be changing a few things, nothing major. one personal head cannon that i have is that jon isn't really named aegon, but jaehaerys. makes a lil more sense in my brain. also, i'll maybe be using some info from the books. and if you guys have any suggestions with y/n's character and other stuff please feel free to let me know. don't worry there will be more story and character development in the coming chapters.

[cd-rome]

autism stare

(feat. @autistic-sack-of-friends)

[churchofthesluttyknee]

A Series of Firsts: Chapter 5 - First Reversal

Author(s): A collaboration amongst smutty parishioners of The Church of the Slutty Knee

Pairing(s): Pedro x Oscar

Rating: E18+ MDNI

Word Count: pending

Series Warnings: explicit sexual content, including, but not limited to BDSM, choking, anal, oral, masturbation (self/mutual), toys, public sex

Chapter Summary: Pedro and Oscar celebrate their birthdays in Brooklyn and Los Angeles. Pedro asks permission to take control, Oscar accepts the request with a little bit of hesitation.

Notes: This chapter takes place 5 and 6 months after Chapter 1 in present day and via flashback.

Tag line: “I want to fuck you, Daddy.”

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[Oscar narrates]: “Las palabras se volvieron miradas. Las sonrisas permiso para seguir adelante y disfrutar de lo que tenemos juntos. Nuestra conexión llegó a un nivel de confianza y de total entrega. Confieso que te confío cada molécula de mi cuerpo y mi alma. Sé que no me harás daño…empiezo de cero contigo , dejando mis miedos y recuerdos atrás. Tus ojos tiernos,  y a la vez llenos de candela, guían mi corazón.  Sí, soy todo tuyo, mi Pedrito.”

(“Words became glances. Smiles permission to move forward and enjoy what we have together. Our connection reached a level of trust and total surrender. I confess I trust you with every molecule of my body and my soul. I know you won’t hurt me... I’m starting from scratch with you, leaving my fears and memories behind. Your eyes tender, yet full of fire, guide my heart. Yes, I’m all yours, my Pedro.”)

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Act I: The Admission

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<exterior: outdoor patio of a quaint coffee shop>

The sun has started to set, turning the horizon a brilliant shade of orange-red. Strings of Edison bulbs flicker to life in crisscrossing patterns above the patio while fairy lights twinkle in potted trees scattered throughout the dining area. Most of the tables are occupied as Pedro and Oscar exit the cafe. They make a bee line to an empty table near the center of the enclosed area. A few minutes later a barista leaves two cups of coffee and two pastries on the table. Pedro and Oscar are deep in conversation.

“He was being so bossy! If things weren’t going exactly his way, he’d start barking out orders left and right. You know me, I try really hard to get along with everybody, but the whole time I was sitting there thinking ‘I only take orders from one person, and it’s definitely not you, sir.’ I mean, where does he get off being so… I dunno, bitchy?”

Oscar looks at Pedro with a sly, knowing, grin when Pedro says there’s only one person he takes orders from.

“And you’re such an obedient boy, mi tigre. What did you say to him? What did you do?”

“I didn’t say, or do, anything. You know how I am about confrontation. It gives my anxiety anxiety!” Pedro sighs.

“You’ve got to work on being more assertive. I know you have it in you.”

“Speaking of being more assertive…” Pedro begins shyly.

Oscar looks at Pedro with a sideways glance, waiting for him to gather the courage to push forward.

“I… I was thinking. Maybe… if you wanted to, um… Maybe we could try something?”

“I’m listening, mi tigre,” Oscar says patiently.

Oscar already has a pretty good idea of Pedro’s train of thought, and is happy to indulge him. In fact, he’s more than willing to indulge Pedro in any of his desires, as he’s told him several times before. All Pedro has to do is ask. That was the only stipulation Oscar wasn’t willing to compromise on as they’d learned the in’s and out’s of their relationship over the past six months. 

After Pedro is quiet for a few more moments, biting his lip in that bashful way he does, Oscar leans in and whispers softly, but with a firm edge to his tone, “Mi Pedrito, you know the rules. You have to ask for it. How can you take something if you aren’t willing to ask for it?”

Taking another moment to find his courage, Pedro finally speaks.

“You know I absolutely love our dynamic. Having to ask permission, the thrill of knowing I could be refused, it turns me on so fucking much. But…” Pedro leans in close to Oscar, who is now sitting with his chin resting on his palms. “I want to fuck you, Daddy. I want to feel you clenching around my cock as I make you cum,” he says quietly, his words so soft they’re almost lost in the ambiance of the crowded patio.

Oscar reaches a hand across the table, placing it over Pedro’s. The smile that spreads across his face makes Pedro grin in turn.

“I won’t lie to you, Pedrito, I’ve not been in a submissive position in a long time. The last time I was, it wasn’t a healthy relationship, and it burned me on the idea of ever giving up control again. But for you, mi amore, I’m willing to give it another try.”

As they leave the cafe Pedro takes Oscar’s hand, fingers intertwining. They’ve been so careful not to show public displays of affection, for fear of the paparazzi seeing, but Pedro is feeling very bold tonight.

Looking at Pedro with a surprised expression Oscar asks “Are you sure?”

“Nunca he estado más seguro de nada en mi vida, mi luna y estrellas,” Pedro whispers into Oscar’s ear. (“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, my moon and stars.”)

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Act II: The Drive and the Storm That Followed

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The drive back to Pedro’s place isn’t long, but it is long enough for them to start a discussion about this new dimension of their shared journey. Oscar goes into great detail about the toxic relationship he’d been in. It was his first time being with another man, and his first experience with BDSM. Oscar explains how his naivety, and eagerness to please, was ultimately the reason the relationship failed.

“That’s why I was so upset with myself in those first few days we were together. I felt like I was being just as manipulative and uncaring as he was. I’d always told myself that, if I ever got into another serious relationship again, I’d be better than that. Yet, there I was, doing the exact same shit to you that he did to me,” Oscar says, his voice rising in his frustration.

“But Oscar, you didn’t manipulate me! Everything we did those first few nights…” Pedro sighs contentedly. “I was a very willing, and eager, participant! And you were so gentle and patient with me. Allowing me to come into this in my own time, under my own terms. Baby, don’t ever compare yourself to him. You are the most amazing, beautiful, caring person I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. And I’m so thankful to be able to share this journey with you.”

While Oscar explained to Pedro that it was a very traumatic time in his life, he assured him that it also helped him understand what not to do going forward, even if he almost messed it all up right from the start. The more in-depth the discussion became, the more Pedro realized just how lucky he was, having someone as caring and generous as Oscar to help him navigate this new path.

As Pedro parks the car, the sun sets behind the horizon, allowing the city lights to take center stage. He grins as he unlocks and opens the door, gesturing Oscar inside. It feels just like that night, oh so many eons ago, when they stumbled into this same room at one in the morning. The air crackles with the same electricity, the same feeling of anticipation. The only real difference is that this time, they are only drunk on love.

Standing in almost the exact same spot as where it all began, Oscar gazes out into the city below before finally opening the sliding glass door and stepping outside. The night is filled with the chorus of hundreds of crickets, and the air is sweetened by the delicate scent of golden currant. Pedro joins Oscar on the balcony, encircling him in a warm embrace and tenderly bestowing kisses upon the nape of Oscar’s neck. 

“God, I still can’t get over how amazing this view is babe. How are you not sitting on the balcony every night watching the city move?”

“On the nights I’m actually home I do sit out here for several hours. But my schedule has been so hectic, and it’s going to get even more so soon. But on the nights I can’t sleep, I’ll lie in bed and stare out into the night. Doesn’t happen so much anymore, because these past six months I’ve been sleeping very well,” Pedro says softly, resting his chin on Oscar’s shoulder. Their eyes reflect the sparkling lights of a city that never seems to sleep.

“I hope I’m at least partly responsible for you finally being able to get a good nights sleep.”

Kissing Oscar gently on the cheek, Pedro breathes softly in his ear, “You absolutely are, mi luna.”

Oscar takes Pedro’s hand and gently kisses the back of it several times before turning to face him. Caressing his face, Oscar pulls Pedro into a soft kiss that quickly turns fevered. Pedro strengthens his grip on Oscar’s hips, urging him closer. Obeying his unspoken command, Oscar steps into him, walking them backwards, until Pedro is flush against the glass wall and Oscar’s body.

With a firm and commanding grip, Oscar seizes Pedro’s wrists, elevating them above his head. The action radiates a sense of dominance and control. Oscar’s fingers intertwine around Pedro’s wrists, restraining any movement below. Oscar keeps his hands suspended in the air, rendering Pedro vulnerable and powerless. Oscar knows Pedro wants to take control, and he will absolutely let him. But not tonight, not yet. 

Continuing to hold their hands high above Pedro’s head, Oscar bites Pedro’s neck and pants into his ear, “Fuck baby, I need you so badly, need to be inside you.”

The atmosphere crackles with tension as static electricity builds. Suddenly, jagged streaks of lightning slash across the heavens, illuminating the landscape in brilliant, fleeting bursts. Thunder follows, a deafening roar that shakes the very foundations beneath their feet. Torrential rain suddenly pours down in unrelenting sheets, reducing the city to a mere blur of distorted shapes. The wind howls and screams. Like the storms sudden appearance and building intensity, Oscar can feel the passion, desire and longing igniting deep within. Their passionate kiss ends, leaving them both breathless, gasping for air. They scramble inside, closing the door behind them.

“Holy shit! Where did that st—,” Pedro begins, but is cut short when Oscar’s lips crash into his, somehow more fervent than before.

Gripping Pedro’s face in his hands once more, his touch neither delicate nor painful, Oscar kisses Pedro hard as he blindly navigates them to the bedroom. They’re both soaking wet from the sudden rain, their clothes clinging to them like a second skin. Once in the bedroom, Oscar begins to remove Pedro’s clothes, and then his own, with a palpable, frantic urgency. Sensing the desperation in Oscar’s movements Pedro yields to the whirlwind he’s found himself in. His lover has always been passionate, but this was beyond passion. This was primal, carnal. Pedro allows himself to be swept up into the storm as it reaches a feverish pitch.

Kissing him once more on the lips, Oscar grunts loudly, spins Pedro around and bites his neck again. Placing a hand between Pedro’s shoulder blades Oscar bends Pedro over the bed and grabs the lube from the nightstand. Moving with precision and speed, Oscar has them both sufficiently lubed and is ready to push forward when he hears Pedro whimper softly. He’s unsure if the sound is eager anticipation or if Pedro’s bracing himself for unwelcome pain. 

“Breathe baby, breathe,” Oscar purrs as he positions himself against Pedro and gently penetrates. “I give you my word that I won’t exceed your pain threshold… unless you want me to.”

Pedro pants heavily as Oscar moves achingly slowly within him. The feeling of chaos still hangs heavy in the air, and Pedro doesn’t want it to dissipate because Oscar is afraid of going too hard. 

Gripping the comforter, Pedro moans desperately, “Faster, Daddy! Ride me hard, and don’t you fucking dare slow down until you hear me screaming ‘nova’!“

Oscar grips Pedro’s hips, increasing his tempo, his thrusts almost in sync with the brilliant lightning that continues to illuminate the sky. Thunder crashes with every breath as rain continues to thrash the glass walls overlooking the city. Oscar leans in and kisses Pedro’s shoulder before licking a line to his neck, which he kisses and licks until he leaves a bruise. One hand firmly gripping Pedro’s hip, Oscar raises his other to Pedro’s neck, covering the fresh bluish purple spot. His fingers flex and release around Pedro’s throat.

“Fuck,” Oscar gasps as he continues to ram into Pedro. “I need you to check in, baby. Talk to me.”

Panting raggedly, Pedro responds, “Moonlight, moonlight! Don’t stop Daddy, please!”

Oscar’s hand still around Pedro’s throat, he turns Pedro’s head to the right, kissing him hungrily. Releasing his grip, Oscar slides his hand across Pedro’s shoulder and around to his chest. He applies firm pressure there, signaling Pedro to lean back, enabling them both to stand upright. His hand remains still for several moments, sensing the rhythm of Pedro’s racing heart mirroring his own. Moving slowly, Oscar's hand travels at a languid pace across Pedro's abdomen, the muscles rippling beneath his touch. His fingers continue to roam, spreading gently as they pass over Pedro’s naval, before finally wrapping themselves around his cock. Pedro covers Oscar’s hand with his own, and they move in unison up and down Pedro’s shaft.

As the storm reaches its crescendo Pedro and Oscar reach their climax. Oscar gently kisses Pedro’s neck and shoulder, murmuring terms of endearment softly against his glistening skin. Legs weak, Pedro pulls two pillows and the comforter from the bed, which they spread out on the floor. Oscar lies down on his back, and pats the spot beside him. Pedro lays down, snuggling in closely, and rests his head against Oscar’s chest. He listens to the strong beat of Oscar’s heart as it begins to slow to a steady rhythm. Oscar runs his fingers through Pedro’s wet hair, twirling little curls around them. As the rain begins to ease they fall asleep wrapped in each other’s embrace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Act III: The Dawn

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Delicate rays of sunlight filter through a heavy fog, gently illuminating the dimly lit bedroom. Oscar and Pedro nestle beneath a cozy comforter on the floor beside an unoccupied bed. Metallic surfaces catch a glint of sunlight, causing Oscar to blink rapidly as he attempts to adapt to the shifting play of shadows. Pedro lies on his back, sound asleep and snoring softly. Oscar props himself up on his left elbow and stares at his sleeping Pedrito. He lets out a profound sigh, experiencing a sense of contentment he hasn't felt in ages. Oscar gently lays his right hand upon his lover's chest, finding solace in the reassuring, unhurried rhythm of Pedro’s heartbeat.

His fingers trace delicate lines over bare chest and stomach, drawing nonsensical letters and messages in an unspoken language. Pedro shifts in his sleep, a grin stretching his lips, yet remains undisturbed in slumber. Distant thunder rumbles as rain begins to fall. Oscar gazes at Pedro with a crooked half grin of his own while he continues to draw. With careful and deliberate intent, his fingers trace a slow path down Pedro's torso before vanishing from sight. A salacious grin curves his lips as his wandering fingers are met with taut, unyielding flesh that twitches under his caress. Running his middle finger gently up and down his length Oscar inclines closer, tracing languid circles with his tongue around Pedro's aroused nipple before enveloping it with his lips. 

A gentle moan escaping Pedro’s lips, he adjusts his body slightly, but still does not wake. Oscar wraps his fingers fully around Pedro’s hard cock and begins to stroke him slowly. As Oscar ascends, his tongue charts a course towards the underside of Pedro’s chin, delicately grazing his nose against the tender skin, gently nudging upwards. Turning his focus to Pedro's exquisite neck, Oscar plants kisses and applies gentle suction until a fresh, darker bruise emerges, nearly mirroring the one he left the night before.

Pedro purrs quietly, turning his face slightly left, unconsciously allowing Oscar better access. Oscar places gentle kisses on heart shaped patches of exposed jawline before moving back down the column of his neck. Before he moves on, Oscar leaves a third love bite on Pedro’s exposed neck. Placing individual kisses, at equal intervals, his path continues down Pedro’s rising and falling chest and along the centerline of his stomach, until he reaches the edge of the comforter, which rises and falls in time with Pedro’s breathing. 

Oscar shifts his weight, moving from his elbow to his hand, before pausing briefly to pull the comforter back. He licks his lips hungrily, staring at his lover on full display. He stares for a moment, captivated, before moving back slightly to sit on his knees. Ones he’s comfortable he takes Pedro’s cock into his hand and gently kisses the tip before running his tongue along its length, from base to tip. Moaning in anticipation, Oscar takes him fully into his mouth. He proceeds deliberately, relishing each moment with an unhurried rhythm. Balancing with his left hand, Oscar delicately cradles Pedro's balls, rhythmically flexing and easing his fingers while his tongue maintains its caressing strokes along the shaft.

Pedro's passionate groan fills the air as he weaves his fingers into Oscar's hair, giving a soft, controlled tug. Encouraged by the sounds he’s eliciting, Oscar increases his pace slightly, taking him deeper with each descent. Pedro is half awake, but remains still, not wanting to accidentally startle Oscar into stopping. Feeling that marvelous tension starting to hum in his core, radiating through him like volts of electricity, Pedro begins to roll his hips in time with Oscar’s movements. Wide awake now, Pedro moans loudly as his cock twitches inside Oscar’s mouth, his orgasm rocking him so fiercely his entire body vibrates.

“Well, good morning to you too, beautiful. Wish you’d wake me up like this every morning,” he says with a satisfied smile.

‘That can definitely be arranged, mi tigre,” Oscar purrs, wiping his chin clean.

Propping himself up, Pedro takes Oscar’s fingers, glistening with his own cum, into his mouth, licking them clean.  Oscar grips Pedro’s chin gently with those same fingers and kisses him deeply.

“What time is it?”

“Just after 7:30.”

“That’s so early, mi Luna. Can we go back to sleep for a little while longer?”

Lying back down, Oscar envelops Pedro in a gentle embrace as Pedro snuggles up against Oscar’s chest, his favorite spot. They’re both asleep in minutres.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Act IV: The Assignment

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When they awake a few hours later the sun has disappeared behind a blanket of dull, gray April clouds. The heaviness of the air promises more rain. Pedro sits on an outdoor sofa with a cup of coffee. Oscar lays beside him, his head resting on Pedro’s lap. Oscar strums an unrecognizable, but hauntingly beautiful tune on his new guitar. A gift from Pedro to celebrate Oscar’s 40th birthday, they had spotted it in the window of a vintage music store in Manhattan. A 1931 Gibson L-1 Custom with gold flowers and vines, Oscar had fallen in love with it instantly, practically dragging Pedro across the busy street to look at it. They had almost been hit by no less than three cars and were cursed at in just as many languages, but they made it across in one piece. 

Oscar had protested when Pedro told the shop owner to pack it up, but Pedro had insisted, telling him he could always pay him back in moonlight serenades. And Oscar had done just that. After attending the opening night of a new off-broadway production they had returned to Oscar’s place, an old apartment building he’d completely renovated himself. On the rooftop Oscar played several songs for Pedro, some that were widely known, some he made up on the spot. The waning crescent moon and a sea of stars shone upon them as they made love on the rooftop for what seemed like an eternity, before falling asleep under the stars.

It wasn’t until the following morning that Pedro first floated the idea of experimenting with their dominant and submissive roles. Pedro explained that when he was with a woman his dominance was always assumed. While he did enjoy that assumption of power he found it wasn’t as satisfying as what he shared with Oscar. With Oscar it was the thrill of the give and take, and he found that being ‘allowed’ felt more liberating than knowing he ‘could’ just because he wanted to.

When Oscar had asked Pedro what he imagined doing in a dominant role, however, Pedro had come up short. In his other relationships he was more or less there to meet his own needs for physical contact. A quick release was just a bonus. The reciprocity with Oscar was something he hadn’t realized he needed as much as he did, so he wanted to do it right, less he disrupt their delicate balance. So they spent the rest of the morning, and early afternoon, talking about what they wanted from each other and how they wanted to achieve those desires. Even then Oscar was hesitant about giving over control, but did his best to hide it. Pedro was finally growing more confident in his role and Oscar didn’t want to discourage him by telling him the loss of control scared him.

“Let’s take this one step at a time, baby steps. The first thing you need to do is to ask yourself if you want to take control. Once you’re sure that’s what you want, we can figure out the semantics. There’s nothing wrong with wanting that control, but the thing about control is you have to be willing, and able, to take it, but also be careful to wield it properly. Dominance and submission are like a symphony. They require trust, harmony, and a shared rhythm between partners. Each note, a gesture of power or surrender, creates a beautiful composition of intimacy and connection.”

Oscar pauses, searching for the words to best convey his feelings. They’re back on the rooftop and Oscar is strumming an idle tune as he speaks. Pedro sits across from him, a dreamy look in his eyes. When Oscar starts speaking again Pedro blinks rapidly, drawing his attention back to Oscar’s soothing voice.

“Communication becomes the conductor, guiding our movements and tempo. As the conductor, you listen, interpret, and respond to the cues, ensuring that we’re both attuned to each other's desires, but also each other’s limits and boundaries. As the music swells, so does the intensity of the connection. It's a dance of vulnerability and strength, where each of us finds our unique role and power within the dynamic, creating this masterpiece of intimacy that resonates long after the final note fades into the night.”

“Wow, that was beautiful. Expressing it that way makes it a lot easier to understand.”

“I wish I could say it was all me, but I read it somewhere a while back, and it just kinda stuck with me. The beauty of it all is how it ebbs and flows, ever changing and evolving. Sometimes it’s hard to remember, outside of this, that submission can be just as liberating as control is empowering.”

“I definitely think it’s something I’d like to try, if that’s ok?” Pedro asks meekly.

“Mi Pedrito, you have such baby girl energy. We’re gonna need to work on being more assertive. I’m gonna give you a homework assignment of sorts. For the rest of the time we’re in the city, I want you to assume that anything you want to do to me, with me, or have me do to, or with you, is allowed. If it’s not, I’ll tap out with a safe word.”

“Anything? Are you sure?” he asks in an uncertain tone.

“Anything darling. I might just surprise you with what I’ll let you do to me,” Oscar purrs.

For the remaining two weeks they spent in Brooklyn, Pedro started a slow, but steady, movement from asking, to telling, Oscar what he wanted. It started small, such as telling Oscar to make him breakfast, gradually progressing to telling Oscar what he wanted him to do to him during their scenes. These things included, but were not limited to, be restrained with soft ribbons and some light choking. By time they were ready to go back to LA the week before Pedro’s 44th birthday, Pedro was telling Oscar to blindfold him and have his way with him. A week after returning to LA Pedro told Oscar he wanted to use toys with him and be in charge of the remote control. Oscar eagerly agreed to all of these things when Pedro commanded them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Act V: The Reversal

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A gentle rain begins to fall as Oscar softly sings an acoustic version of ‘(I Can’t Help) Falling In Love With You’. Pedro continues to sip his coffee, running his fingers lazily through Oscar’s hair. When the song is over Oscar continues to strum idly, turning his head slightly to look up at Pedro.

“Happy birthday, mi tigre. What did you want to do today? I know we’re going out Saturday with your family and Sarah, but what about today?”

Pedro considers this for a few moments before a wicked grin curls his lips. “I want you to do a strip tease for me, baby. Then I’m gonna fuck you. And later, you’re gonna make love to me under the stars.”

Oscar rests his guitar carefully against the sofa. Propping himself up on one elbow he reaches for Pedro’s neck with his free hand, pulling him down for a tender kiss.

“Qué rico, mi Pedrito travieso (How delicious, my naughty Pedrito),” Oscar purrs softly, licking Pedro’s bottom lip before resting his head on Pedro’s lap once more.

They continue to sit outside in the gentle rain for another hour, enjoying the quietness of the day. The gentle rain eventually becomes hard and steady, resulting in a significant drop in temperature. When Oscar feels Pedro shudder beneath him, he quickly and carefully packs his guitar away, taking it, along with Pedro’s empty coffee cup, inside. When he comes back out he pulls Pedro to his feet, gripping his hips to pull him close. Burying his face into the crook of Pedro’s neck, he kisses a slow path to Pedro’s ear.

“Are you ready, mi tigre?” he whispers softly before gently biting Pedro’s earlobe.

He feels Pedro shudder against him and that deliciously familiar twitch against his lower abdomen as Pedro’s cock responds to his touch. Oscar kisses Pedro’s jaw line, pulling him tighter against his own growing erection. Standing practically nose to nose Oscar traces Pedro’s lower lip with his thumb before cupping his chin and sinking into a hungry, heated kiss. Moaning against his lips, Oscar grips the front of Pedro’s shirt and guides him inside. The steady drumming of rain through the open door sets a backdrop as he motions Pedro to sit in a chair he has turned to face the balcony. 

Pedro grins impishly as Oscar takes out his phone and queues up a song. When the synthesized intro of ‘Pony’ begins Oscar starts to roll his hips in languid circles, raising his arms above his head, crossing them at the wrist. As his hips move his entire body falls into sync. He runs his fingers through his loose curls, down his face, neck and chest. Stepping in front of Pedro’s knees, Oscar grips his legs firmly and spreads them apart. Crouching between them, he runs his fingers up and down the length of Pedro’s thighs before cupping Pedro’s straining bulge through his pants. Leaning in, Oscar kisses Pedro’s neck, nipping the bruises he left the night before. Gliding his fingers over his lovers torso, he takes Pedro’s bottom lip gently between his teeth, panting heavily into Pedro’s mouth, before rising and taking a small step back. 

Still feeling the music, Oscar undoes his belt with one hand, removing it in one quick, smooth motion. The leather snaps loudly as it coils upon itself before falling to the floor. Pedro bites his bottom lip and grips the arms of the chair, fingers flexing over the velvety surface. As Oscar untucks his shirt Pedro reaches for the waistband of Oscar’s pants. Oscar slaps his hand away playfully, shaking his head and wagging his finger.

“No, mi Pedrito! This is a tease, remember?’ Oscar laughs.

“I can’t help myself, baby. I want to touch you so badly. My body aches for the feel of your skin against mine.”

A Cheshire Cat grin slowly curves Oscar’s lips as he teasingly lifts his shirt, inch by inch, exposing his stomach, before removing it fully and tossing it onto his discarded belt. Stepping into the space between Pedro’s still spread legs, Oscar takes Pedro’s hands, placing them on his pecks. He guides them down his torso, stopping at the waistline. Hands still covered, Pedro slowly undoes the button and zipper, pulling Oscar’s pants over his hips. They fall to the floor as Pedro grips Oscar’s hips, pulling him close. Oscar steps out of his pants and hastily kicks them to the side as Pedro licks and kisses his stomach, starting to tug at the waistband of Oscar’s boxer briefs.

Stepping back just far enough to be out of Pedro’s reach, Oscar hooks his thumb into his waistband and teasingly pulls his boxers down just enough to expose the base of his cock. His other hand snakes inside, cupping his balls and giving them a light squeeze. His hand glides over his now erect cock as he pulls it out of his boxers. Taking Pedro’s hand, he places it over his throbbing member, pressing it hard against his erection.

“Baby, you make me so fucking hard,” Oscar whispers as he slowly pulls his boxers down, kicking them onto the pile of discarded clothes as Pedro starts to stroke him languidly.

Oscar straddles Pedro in the chair, kissing him with an unspoken, urgent need. He grinds his hips into Pedro as he works to remove Pedro’s shirt, breaking their kiss just long enough to pull it over Pedro’s head. Their lips reconnect instantly as Oscar’s fingers weave into Pedro’s soft, unruly hair, gripping it tightly. Pedro squeezes Oscar’s ass with one hand, while continuing to stroke his hard cock with the other. Oscar swiftly unbuttons and unzips Pedro’s pants, but when he goes to pull them down, he realizes he’ll have to stand up to remove them. Gripping the back of the chair firmly, Oscar pulls himself to a standing position, feet planted on the edges of the chair, allowing Pedro to shimmy off his remaining clothes.

As soon as Pedro’s hands are free again he possessively grips Oscar’s cock and licks the length from base to tip before swirling his tongue around the head and taking him fully. Oscar’s hips roll in small circles, the heat and texture of Pedro’s tongue eliciting deep moans.

“Fuck baby,” Oscar pants. “Oh yeah, just like that. I love it when you do that with that filthy little tongue of yours.” Gripping the back of the chair with one hand, Oscar buries his fingers in Pedro’s hair, gently guiding Pedro’s head. “I see you’re using the technique I taught you. You’ve gotten very good at it, baby,” Oscar moans softly.

Pedro continues to go down on Oscar, hollowing his cheeks to take him deeper. Still gripping the back of the chair for support, Oscar tightly grips Pedro’s throat, feeling his girth fill and expand it beneath his hand. After several minutes Oscar leans back slightly, loosening his grip on Pedro’s throat and looks down at him, cupping his face in his hands. 

“Damn baby, you’re fucking incredible. Give me a second to catch my breath, otherwise I’m gonna paint that beautiful throat of yours before you’ve had a chance to play.”

Oscar sits on Pedro’s lap and begins to stroke his cock slowly. Pedro mewls under Oscar’s touch. Grabbing the lube from the small table beside them, Oscar applies liberal amounts to Pedro’s cock as Pedro applies in kind to Oscar’s entrance.

“Baby, can I change my mind?” Oscar asks playfully.

“No,” Pedro responds in a low tone with a devilish grin. “Are you ready for me, gatito?”

Oscar nods, a half smile curling his lips. Resting his hand on Pedro’s side, Oscar caresses Pedro’s cheek.

“Slide down a little bit baby,” he whispers gently into Pedro’s ear.

Gripping Pedro’s shoulders for support he lifts himself up so Pedro can slide down in the seat. 

“Slide down a little more baby, and lay back. Yeah, just like that.” Oscar says in a soft, encouraging tone.

A look of nervousness overcomes Pedro as he grips his own cock and prepares to penetrate Oscar for the first time. 

“Relax baby, it’s ok. Just take it nice and slow. I’ll help guide you.” Pedro looks at him with concern and uncertainty. “You won’t hurt me, mi tigre, I promise. If something doesn’t feel right let me know and we’ll make adjustments.” Oscar soothes, placing a reassuring hand on Pedro’s chest, right above his rapidly beating heart.

Placing his hand over Pedro’s they move slowly, allowing Pedro time to steady his nerves. Oscar accepts him with little resistance, a shuddering moan escaping him as Pedro goes deeper. They sit in silence for several seconds as Pedro’s breath gradually returns to a calm, steady rhythm.

Resting his hands on Pedro’s shoulders, Oscar leans into him, kissing him softly on the lips. He starts to roll his hips slowly, allowing Pedro to become acclimated before he gradually increases his tempo. Pedro quickly matches Oscar’s pace, lifting his hips to penetrate deeper. 

“Fuck, mi tigre, you feel so god damn good inside me. Stroke my cock while you fuck me, baby. I wanna feel you inside and out. I want you to consume me entirely.”

Oscar moans loudly as Pedro fills him and strokes him simultaneously. Oscar’s moans and heavy breathing help Pedro find his groove.  He begins to thrust with more force, his hips slapping against Oscar’s ass.

“Daddy, can I—,” Pedro begins, but is immediately cut off by Oscar placing a finger over Pedro’s lips.

“Don’t ask, baby…,” Oscar pants heavily. He gasps when Pedro’s free hand finds his throat a few seconds later. “Harder, baby. Like you fucking mean it!”

Pedro’s grip tightens around Oscar’s throat, causing Oscar’s breath to come in hollow, gasping shudders. Pedro moans loudly, the sounds from Oscar driving his courage. Pedro’s hips keep slamming against Oscar’s ass as he ruts himself harder and deeper into Oscar, hitting his sweet spot over and over.

Breath hitching in his chest, Oscar pants eagerly, “Fuck! Right there, baby, right there!”

Slowing down, Pedro presses his hand firmly against Oscar’s chest, indicating him to lean back slightly. Pedro leans down and kisses the tip of Oscar’s cock, which is already moist with pre-cum, swirling his tongue along the slit. He licks his lips, allowing Oscar’s essence to create a slick sheen on them. 

The sight and sensation causes Oscar to jerk forward, involuntarily chasing Pedro’s lips. A feral groan escapes as Pedro finally wraps his lips around Oscar’s hard, aching cock.  As his concentration shifts Pedro’s speed falters. Oscar picks up the slack, controlling both the depth and speed of penetration. 

“I’m getting close, mi tigre. Where do you want it?” Oscar asks softly.

Pedro stops just long enough to answer, “In my mouth. Let me taste you, gatito.”

Gripping Pedro’s throat tightly Oscar releases his load, feeling his orgasm pour down Pedro’s throat, a quivering sensation rippling below his grip. Pedro gasps as he tries to catch his breath. 

As Oscar continues to rock his hips, taking Pedro as deep as he can, his breath comes in ragged gasps as he rides Pedro hard. He leans in closely, hands traveling up Pedro’s sweat slicked torso, and bites Pedro’s shoulder hard enough to elicit a gasp. 

Pedro shudders as he tries to hold off his release. Oscar gazes at him intensely, instantly knowing that he’s trained his Pedrito very well. Even taking on a dominant role, Pedro still seeks Oscar’s approval before he can find his release.

In a soft whisper, Oscar breathes against Pedro’s ear, “It’s okay, baby. Cum for me, cum inside me.”

Pedro arches his back as he cums deep inside Oscar, moaning with relief as his orgasm pulses through him in waves. Oscar sighs heavily as Pedro fills him. Cupping his chin, Oscar leans in and kisses Pedro tenderly, running his fingers through Pedro’s damp hair. As if a switch was flipped, Pedro almost immediately falls back into a submissive state. 

“Was that ok, Daddy?” Pedro asks quietly, looking down into the space between them shyly.

“You did beautifully, mi tigre,” Oscar purrs, kissing the tip of Pedro’s nose. “I enjoyed it very much. I hope you enjoyed it too?”

“Yes, Daddy, I enjoyed it very much. I would love to do it again. Soon.”

“Of course, mi Pedrito. Sabes que haría cualquier cosa por ti, mi amor (you know I would do anything for you, my love). Let’s take a quick shower, then we can snuggle a little. And you can tell me where you want to go once it’s dark. Is there anywhere you know of that has privacy and good star visibility?”

“Hmm, there’s an observatory at Mt. Wilson. I think that would be perfect. There are some trails nearby. We could take a blanket, maybe some wine?”

“That sounds perfect, darling.”

After they shower they fall asleep while snuggled up to each other in bed, satisfied and pleasantly tired. A few hours later they dress, go to Pedro’s favorite restaurant, then head out to Mt. Wilson, where they gaze at the stars through the observatory telescopes while waiting for the park to officially close. Once they’re sure they’re relatively alone they lay out a blanket and sip wine while gazing at the night sky. They make love under the stars, just like they did during the nights they’d spent in Brooklyn.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7

[asof-the-baby]

*happily playing with toys*

Mama is shak, shak go swim! Swim swim fast!

[midnightartemis]

“I know.” You whispered. You closed your eyes and imagined basking in the warmth of the sun. You pulled Oberyn close to you, wrapped his arms around you. Oberyn rested his chin on the top of your head. “I am waging a battle within my mind that I feel I am losing, Obie.”

“Then I will pick up my spear and wage it with you,” Oberyn whispered.

[exinewine]

I had a random thought today about what would happen if we put all the ACOTAR characters on Love is Blind. Who'd end up with who?!

[asof-the-baby]

Pretty doll!

A Little Sweetie is a doll I made from a secondhand porcelain jester I bought for $7 and a skull that my girlfriend found for me at an abandoned house in the woods. She is really actually alive and can move around. She is polite but mischievous. You love her now.

[reiners-milkbiddies]

Ouishi is so babygirl.

[cafecitoeddie]

Bad Bunny - WHERE SHE GOES (Official Video)

❤️

[k4marina]

heart of the dragon sneak peak :)

here's a little peak at the next chapter of heart of the dragon 🙈

On the far left, where the line of paintings began was a family portrait. There was writing engraved on a golden plaque underneath the painting. 

“Aenar Targaryen, First Lord of Dragonstone.

Gaemon Targaryen and Daenys Targaryen.”

Underneath Aenar’s and his two children's names were the names of his many wives, five to be exact. I haphazardly read through the names, most of which were of Valyrian women, a few from different areas of Essos. 

“Vellela Irnoran, that’s most likely from the Free Cities, Naqari Ghe- shit, how do I say this? Ghezihl, oof, that has to be Ghiscari. Jelaehna Vellar..ys.” 

Jelaehna Vellarys. Jelaehna Vellarys. Vel-lar-ys. 

“No fucking way.”

lmk what u guys think !

@wotcherpeak @music-luver25 @your-favorite-god @radiantdanvers @cluelessteam @ministark @laanswife

[cd-rome]

HIII!!! HI ASOF I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!

drew my friend @cd-rome !!!! hi Rome!!!!!

[churchofthesluttyknee]

A Series of Firsts: Chapter 1: First Taste

Author(s): A collaboration amongst smutty parishioners of The Church of the Slutty Knee

Pairing(s): Pedro x Oscar

Rating: E18+ MDNI

Word Count: 1,230

Series Warnings: explicit sexual content, including, but not limited to BDSM, choking, anal, oral, masturbation (self/mutual), toys, public sex

Chapter Summary: Pedro and Oscar return to Pedro’s home after an awards show after party. Emboldened by the beauty of an early morning in LA, and a little alcohol, they discover they have a mutual attraction.

Fumbling clumsily with the key, he finally manages to get it into the lock, engage the tumbler and unlock the door. It’s a few minutes after 1am, and he’s nursing a pleasant buzz. ‘They always have so much good booze at these awards after parties,’ he thinks as the door swings open into the dark space. Gesturing his guest inside, he closes the door behind himself. When Oscar enters, he’s immediately drawn to the floor to ceiling glass walls across the room. Pedro flips on the light.

“No, leave it off. The view of the city is amazing from here. Is that the Capitol Records building?” Oscar asks, gazing in awe upon the sparking lights of downtown LA. Pedro flips the light off. Walking across the room he stands beside Oscar, staring into the early morning haze.

“Yeah; there’s a castle about halfway between us, but you can’t see it when it’s dark.”

“A castle? Tell me you’re joking! You know what? Don’t. I know you’re telling the truth because this is LA, and LA can be fucking ridiculous,” Oscar says with a chuckle. Pedro laughs in response.

Oscar gazes at Pedro, taking him in from head to toe, his form backlit by the dazzling city.

“Your hair looks really nice tonight. Did you finally find a brush?”

"Oh, you know Coco won't let me leave the house without looking fabulous!" Pedro replies, growling playfully as he turns to face Oscar.

“But seriously, it looks amazing… you look amazing,” Oscar speaks softly. He runs his fingers gently through Pedro’s hair, then quickly kisses his cheek.

Pedro playfully slaps Oscar’s shoulder, the sound echoing in the quiet room. “Come on, pendejo! Deja de ser pendejo.” (Come on, asshole! Stop being an asshole.)

“Come here,” Oscar says with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Sir, I’m literally standing right beside you,” Pedro replies.

His tone husky, Oscar responds, “I’m serious. Come here.”

Oscar places his hands on Pedro’s hips and pulls him closer. Their bodies flush, Oscar takes Pedro’s hand and guides it to his cock, which is straining against his pants.

“Can you feel that?” he breathes into Pedro’s ear.

Pedro shudders at the heat of Oscar’s breath and audibly gasps as Oscar’s lips cover his own, swallowing any objections that may have spilled over. Pedro’s breath comes in heavy gasps as their kiss breaks.

“Are we really gonna do this?” Pedro whispers, hesitation clear in his tone. Seeing Oscar’s eyebrow arch he continues, “I mean, I want to! God, I want to so much… but only if you want to,” he quickly adds, his voice lowering in embarrassment at sounding over eager.

“I’ve fantasized about this for years, you know? But I was always afraid to make the first move. But seeing you tonight? Fuck.” Pedro says in a low voice, “I want you sooo fucking badly. I wanna feel the heat of your skin searing my flesh.”

“I think you can feel how much I want you to touch me, to wrap your lips around my aching cock…” Oscar says with a wicked smile. “Don’t be nervous, Daddy’s here.”

A moan escapes Pedro’s lips, “I wanna feel your cock sliding down my throat.”

Oscar slides his hands down to his pants, unbuckling his belt. Unziping his pants, he lets them drop to his ankles. Eyes dark with desire, Oscar looks at Pedro.

“Te doy permiso para que te portes mal. Ponte de rodillas, wachito rico” (I give you permission to misbehave. Get on your knees handsome.)

Without hesitation, Pedro drops to his knees, his hands gently gripping the back of Oscar’s calves as he moves in closer. Once happy with his position, he runs his hands up the back of Oscar’s thighs, squeezing his ass briefly, before sliding his index fingers into the waistband of Oscar’s boxers. After a moment's hesitation he pulls them down. Oscar sucks in a breath and moans.

“Ahh, fuck,” Pedro says, staring at Oscar’s cock for several moments, licking his lips hungrily. Wrapping his hand around the shaft, he tentatively takes only the tip into his mouth, clearly insecure about his movements, but still eager.

Sensing Pedro’s insecurities, Oscar gently caresses Pedro’s cheek, “Is mine the first, the only, one you’ve tasted?”

“Yes,” Pedro pants heavily.

Being Pedro’s first pleases Oscar more than he expects. A smile forming on his lips, Oscar replies softly, “Good. Let’s keep it that way.”

Still panting and out of breath, Pedro replies, “Yes.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Oscar says in a tone leaving no room for argument.

“Yes, Daddy,” Pedro replies obediently.

Emboldened by Oscar's words and smile Pedro finally finds his confidence. Taking Oscar more deeply, his jaw slowly relaxes as he adjusts his speed. Oscar’s fingers clutch tightly in Pedro’s hair as he guides his lover's head forward and back on his cock.

“I’m going to mess up that beautiful fucking hair of yours to keep you exactly where I want you.” As Pedro’ finds his rhythm he reaches a hand up to cup Oscar’s balls, causing Oscar’s hips to buck. “You swear you’ve never done this before? Fuuuuck, you feel so good.”

When Pedro pulls away to answer, Oscar says, “I didn’t say you could stop.” Pedro takes Oscar’s cock into his mouth once more, sucking with greater enthusiasm. “Fuck, I’m getting close, mi tigre.” In a gasping breath Oscar asks, “Are you thirsty baby?”

A deep moan rumbles from inside Pedro’s chest, “Yes, Daddy, I’m sooo thirsty.”

Looking down into Pedro’s eyes, Oscar can see a smoldering desperation to please him there. “Do you want it all? Every last drop?”

Nodding eagerly, eyes locked on Oscar, Pedro shudders. His voice almost pleading, he answers, “Yes Daddy! All of it… in my mouth. All of it.”

The sound of need in Pedro’s voice makes Oscar buck his hips a little too enthusiastically, causing Pedro to gag and cough. Oscar pulls back, reading Pedro’s eyes for confirmation that he’s okay. “Oh shit!! I’m so sorry…but you can take it, can’t you?”

Pedro licks his lips, “Yes, god yes. I want… I want it so much.” He leans back down, his mouth back on Oscar’s cock. Sucking, hollowing out his cheeks to take Oscar deeper. His hand still on Oscar’s balls, squeezing and pulling, gently but firmly.

Oscar's body begins to tremble, his orgasm not far now. “Fuck! God, yes… I’m gonna… oh… yes.” Oscar’s hands grip tightly in Pedro’s hair as he thrusts himself into Pedro’s mouth, over and over again. With a few more thrusts, he lets go and cums, white hot spurts of his load shooting down Pedro’s throat. As Oscar’s thrusts come to an end he gently pulls out and drags a finger along Pedro’s lips to wipe away the glistening remnants of his cum.

“That was amazing. You were amazing,” Oscar says. Lifting his chin, Oscar leans down and kisses Pedro deeply, revealing in the taste of himself on his lover's lips.

Oscar offers his hand, helping Pedro to his feet. They stand silently for a few moments, smiling. Pedro gives Oscar a quick kiss on the lips. “Thank you Daddy.”

Oscar slips his arms around Pedro’s waist, pulling him closer as he links his hands behind the small of Pedro’s back. “Por supuesto, mi tigre. Haría cualquier cosa por ti.” (Of course, my tiger. I would do anything for you.)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

[asof-the-baby]

Ba badabba! Hey o!

I did not expect the baby thing to go anywhere but damn, it's cute.

So hi. This is Asof, the adopted child of @god-in-the-basement. Cute kid, right?

[midnightartemis]

A Song of Fire and Sand

Rating: E

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand x named!demisexual!reader

Word Count: 2320

Warnings: Canon typical gore and violence, language, mentions of incest (not depicted), mentions of rape (not depicted), NSFW

Masterlist

Chapter Four

What looked to others as a celebration, you saw as a battlefield. The wedding ceremony of King Joffery and Margery Tarell was built on show and spectacle. It moved forward at a tepid pace that had you itching in your seat between Ellaria and Oberyn. Sansa, who sat just in front of you, hardly looked at you but for a small nod. 

You technically weren’t even allowed a knife for the day; all weapons were banned for the festivities. It was a slap in the face to you, a reminder of what had happened at the Red Wedding. 

Your only solace was that Oberyn’s house guard was not far away, mixed in with the Royal guard. You had your exits planned. You knew already of a half dozen ways to arm yourself. You knew exactly how you would kill the blond brat standing at the altar. 

“You’re glaring again, my love,” Oberyn whispered against your ear. You sighed and adjusted your shimmering green and gold Dornish dress. You had managed to hide a small dagger in the fabric folds, so there was that at least. You schooled your face into a passive yet pleasant stare. “Better?”

“You could fool them all, my love.” Oberyn pressed a kiss to your hair. 

Not soon enough, the ceremony ended without much fuss and the festivities began. Food and wine flowed and Oberyn complained about the quality of it all (though there was a contortionist he and Ellaria loved). Still, this was nothing compared to the flavors and festivals of Dorne. 

Or the way you caught your husband staring at the Tyrell heir with Ellaria’s fingers between his lips. You raised an amused brow when Oberyn looked back at you. 

“There is that grin I have been missing.” Oberyn nuzzled against your neck. His fingers had been inching up your thigh beneath your skirt since you sat down. His other hand was busy between Ellaria’s legs. 

“How do you always know precisely who wishes to sleep with you?”

Oberyn hummed against your skin. “It is a secret. But I can teach you.”

“He teases you, my love.” Ellaria popped a piece of fruit in her mouth as she whispered conspiratorially. “His secret is he flirts with everyone and sometimes gets lucky.”

Oberyn pulled away from your neck with mock shock and pain. “My love, how you wound and betray me.”

Your giggles die quickly as you see Cersei and Tywin Lannister stand from their table to make their rounds about the party. Oberyn noticed as well, his eyes growing darker. 

“What do you say we take a walk, my loves?” It was not a question. The three of you rose from the table to walk around the party. 

You stood dutifully at Oberyn’s side, taking the snide looks from Northerners about you and Ellaria. There were few you recognized by anything other than reputation and, luckily, none recognized or knew of you. Who would remember the bastard daughter of a traitor? 

You plastered your face in false amusement as you kept your eye on the Lannisters across the room. It was a dance to make your way to them, to meet them as if by chance at a table of food. 

“Your grace. Lord Tywin.” Oberyn called in greeting. How did he do it? How did he look this monster in the eye and treat him with any courtesy?

“Prince Oberyn.” Tywin nodded to him. As if sensing your barely contained rage, Oberyn placed a hand on your side and squeezed. 

“I don’t believe you have met my paramours.” Oberyn looked between the four of you. “This is the Lord Hand Tywin Lannister and Cersei Lannister, Queen Regent. I suppose it is former Queen Regent now. Lord Hand, Lady Cersei, Ellaria Sand and Myra Snow.”

You dipped your head in acknowledgment to the two Lannisters. How Ellaria managed to smile, you had no idea. Tywin Lannister held you with a cold gaze. A freezing rush went through you. He knew who you were.

“Charmed.” Tywin looked away from you to Ellaria. 

Cersei smiled, amused. “Can’t say I’ve ever met a Sand before.”

Ellaria’s smile fell. You could feel the rage that shook through her. Oberyn’s hands tightened around both of your waists. 

Your lover's voice shook as she spoke. “We are everywhere in Dorne. I have ten thousand brothers and sisters.”

“Bastards are borne of passion, aren’t they?” Oberyn looked between you and Ellaria with a soft grin. He was much better at this game than either you or Ellaria were. “We do not despise them in Dorne.”

“Is that why you were in such a hurry to escape the North?” Cersei smirked at you. 

“No.” You held her gaze. You saw the truth there. Cersei knew as well. “I love the North. I hope to return one day. But I have found love in Dorne as well. I am lucky to be a bastard with such a large family.”

I am as much a child of the North as I am a viper of Dorne. I am not easily defeated. I have the protection of the Martells. Tread lightly. 

You met Ellaria’s loving eyes and brought her hand to your lips. 

“I expect it is a relief, Lady Cersei, giving up your regal responsibilities.” Oberyn broke the tense silence. “Wearing the crown for so many years must have left your neck a bit crooked.”

You wanted to laugh at Cersei’s strained face. She was trying so terribly hard to be cordial. “I suppose you’ll never know, Prince Oberyn. It is a shame your brother could not attend the wedding.”

“Please give him my regards.” Tywin agreed. “With any luck, the gout will abate and with time he will be able to walk again.”

“They call it the rich man’s disease. A wonder you don’t have it.” Oberyn chuckled. With every comment, his hand on your waist grew a little tighter.

“Noblemen in my part of the country don’t enjoy the same lifestyle as our counterparts in Dorne.”

“People everywhere have their differences. In some places the High Born frown upon those of lower birth. In other places, the rape and murder of women and children is considered distasteful.” Oberyn’s dark gaze turned from Tywin to Cersei. “What a fortunate thing for you, former Queen Regent, that your daughter Marcella has been sent to live in the latter sort of place.”

Cersei paled and pressed her lips into a thin line. “Fortunate, indeed, that my daughter is in your care.” She turned her gaze to you. “It is fortunate that your half-sister has stayed in comfort as well. We must always protect that which is most precious to us.”

Lady Cersei’s cold eyes flicked to you. It was a warning and a threat. Oberyn’s jaw twitched as his hand on your side became almost painful. “If you will excuse me. The feast will begin soon.”

Oberyn bowed his head as Lady Cersei left. Tywin followed in her footsteps. Oberyn's gaze did not leave them until they had gone. “Ellaria, my love, we will meet you in a moment at the table.”

Heat clenched your core at Oberyn’s words. He was filled with rage and the only place he could put it was inside you. Ellaria gave you a knowing look and left the two of you for the table. Oberyn released your side to grab your wrist and pull you through the crowd to a secluded spot against a wall, away from the party and hidden by trees. 

He pushed you against the cool stone, caging you with his body, and pressing his thigh between your legs. You whimpered at the sudden friction, cunt already dripping. 

“Who do you belong to?” Oberyn growled. 

You whined as Oberyn found your cunt under your dress. “You, my love.”

“Who else makes you sing like I do, little bird?”

“No one, no one, my prince.” You ground down on his hand. The force of Oberyn’s kiss bruised your lips. His movements became desperate as he hitched your skirts up over your hips and dipped his fingers between your folds. You tore at his pants, freeing his cock. 

“Need to be inside of you, little one. Need to mark you. Need to make you scream so that all of Westeros knows who you belong to.” Oberyn pressed his cock into your cunt, sliding in completely in one motion. He groaned as you squeezed around him. He drew out almost completely before slamming back into you. You yelped as he set a brutal pace and ran a finger over your clit. 

It wasn’t always like this. In the beginning, you hated each other. Two fires competing for the same fuel, stoking each other til you learned… Together you burned the hottest. 

The Water Gardens at Sunspear, Dorne

One year prior…

You had not slept the rest of the night. Your hands shook and drinking did not help. You had nearly ended an innocent girl’s life, no matter her family, Princess Myrcella did not deserve that. 

Oberyn’s words spun a tangled web in your mind. He wished for the death of the Lannisters as much as you did. He held his blade to your throat and yet he did not kill you. You had betrayed his trust, and yet no guards came to your rooms. 

It was Ellaria who came through your door in the morning, anger in her features. Oberyn had told her then. 

“I will leave.”

Ellaria stared you down coldly. You could see she was swimming with words to say to you, ones you likely deserved. Instead, she clenched her jaw. “Oberyn requires your presence.”

She swept out of the room in a fiery trail of skirts leaving you to catch up to her. You followed her through the halls of the palace and out into the heat of the morning. There was an open earthen courtyard just off the castle. And standing at the center of it were Oberyn and three women in armor. The eldest of which was nearly your age. 

Oberyn held a staff as did one of the others. The second woman held a whip and the third, the youngest, played with her two short blades. 

“Myra Snow. My daughters.” Oberyn nodded to each of them starting with the eldest. “Obara. Nymeria. Tyene.”

Obara twirled her spear with a bloodthirsty look to you. Nymeria followed your every breath. Tyene was the only one to give you a small smile in greeting, but you were not foolish enough to think she was any less deadly than her sisters. You looked at Oberyn and found him smirking. 

It seemed to you that you had just set foot in a den of vipers, woefully unprepared. 

Where was he going with this? 

Oberyn stalked closer to you. With every step, your heart pounded a little faster. He lifted your chin and you met his gaze as fiercely as you could. Oberyn chuckled. “For one called Snow, you are fiery, little one.”

“If you are planning to kill me, just say so.”

Oberyn raised a brow. “Did you not hear me, little one? We will have our revenge against the Lannisters. For what they did to my sister. Your father. Why would I kill you when our desires are the same, hmm?”

“Then what is this?”

“This is training. You know much, but you are sloppy. When you are backed into a corner, you revert to your Northern ways. Waving swords around at each other. I have trained my daughters since they were children. You will fight them. You will lose. And you will learn.” Oberyn looked over your shoulder to where Ellaria stood. “And perhaps watching you get a few bruises will soothe Ellaria’s temper.”

You looked back at her and frowned. “Does that work?”

Oberyn shrugged. “It does not hurt to try.”

You stared at him. By all accounts, you should be dead by now. “And if I wish to fight you?”

The prince studied you with dark eyes before a smile and a laugh crossed his lips. He leaned closer to you, close enough you could feel the scratch of his beard against your skin. You couldn’t help but shiver, despite the desert heat that cooked the air. “For that, little one, we should be alone. We both know it will only end one way.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“What makes you so unsure?” Oberyn pulled away from you and turned back to his daughters. “Who wishes to spar first?”

Present…

You came with a cry on Oberyn’s cock and he followed a second later. His warm seed flooded your cunt. He stayed in you as you held him close. Your fingers wound through his dark curls. 

“They threatened Sansa.”

“They threatened you,” Oberyn growled. “In threatening you, they threaten me. In insulting Ellaria, they insult Dorne.”

“Cersei wants her daughter back.”

“Doran wants peace.” 

“Doran will not go to war for me, even if he is my friend. I do not want you to go to war for me.”

Oberyn lifted his head from your shoulder to look you in the eyes. “You cannot stop me from burning cities for you, my love.”

“And you cannot stop me from trying to stop you.” You cupped his cheeks in your hands and kissed him gently. “We should return to the party. Ellaria will want her fill as well.” 

Oberyn slid from your cunt with a groan. “I cannot argue with that logic.”

You returned together to the pavilion where the King and Queen’s table sat- only to stop at the scene before you. Five dwarves ran around the stage that sat before the high table. Each of them was costumed as one of the kings from the War of Five Kings- King Joffrey, Stannis and Renly Baratheon, Greyjoy, and Robb Stark. The real King Joffrey watched from his seat at the table, cackling gleefully. Your eyes darted to Sansa, at the end of the same table seated next to Tyrion. Her pale face was drawn and pained. 

Oberyn gripped your wrist as you went for the dagger in your skirts. You tugged against him, but you were helpless to do anything to stop the horrid play of your brother’s death in front of you. The ending– dwarf Joffrey fucking a decapitated wolf’s head– was met with thunderous applause. Oberyn pulled you back to your table where Ellaria sat. You turned your eyes to the bitch king Joffrey, praying for the chance to make him suffer. Make him pay. 

You watched as he mocked Tyrion. 

Watched as he drank from his goblet.

Watched as it fell from his hands as he began to choke. 

Watched as the goblet rolled away and your sister picked it up. 

No. Death was too easy, too merciful. You would keep him alive, torture him until he begged for mercy. You’d watch as life slowly, painfully left his body. You’d–

You watched as Joffrey stumbled from the dais where the High Table sat. Watched as the poison slowly killed him. Watched as his mother screamed. 

Oberyn shook you. “Sansa. Where’s Sansa?” 

You looked to the last place you saw her. The table was empty now. Sansa was nowhere in sight. 

Tyrion. The man looked as lost as you felt. He looked around and met your eye. You moved towards him, breaking from Oberyn’s grip. You were halfway to the man when Joffrey took his final breath, hand pointed at your sister’s husband. 

You stopped in your tracks. 

“He did this. He poisoned my son- your king. Take him. Take him! Take him! Take him!” Cersei screamed. The guards rushed forward to take Tyrion into their hold. Cersei’s wild eyes dashed from her son to the crowd to Tyrion. “Where’s his bitch wife? Where is she?”

Tyrion raised his eyes to look at you and Cersei’s head whipped to face you. 

“Traitor! I’ll have your head. I’ll have both your heads.”

Distantly, you heard Oberyn roar. You felt the grip of guards grabbing you, pulling you away. And all you could stare at was the dead boy on the ground and the clean blade you held in your hand.

[asof-the-baby]

Shark! Mamma said okay! Shark safe! Only when mamma say so!

hey you know the baby sophie adopted that's also apparently odin's kid? so, u, the kid's walking on water

you've got experience with that

what's up with that?

are we getting another Christ child?

Listen, if this kid is willing to be the Savior of all Humanity?

I'm behind that. I have another job running Hell now. I'm happy to train a replacement.

Frankly, even though She's kinda nuts, I trust @god-in-the-basement to not sacrifice Her only child for the sake of the sins of humanity. I know She doesn't want the same lousy relationship with Her kid that I have with @the-almighty-god , right, Sophia?

I don't trust Her not to *scrolls back through Tumblr* feed Her child to a shark???

... but it turned out okay, so...?

This is gonna be one weird kid.

And @asof-the-baby will have Me as a big cousin who's Been There, should they choose to become a Christos.

[absentwriterdoll]

Humming Along

A doll listening to a song on repeat.

Its witch has been taken with the song asof late.

The doll can understand why.

The song is quiet. Calming. Beautiful.

The doll finds itself humming along.

And so too does its witch.

=====

Inspired by https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=INGVryoBxKA