#modern!oberyn

[absurdthirst]

A Mafia Marriage {Mafia!Oberyn Martell x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 16k

Warnings: Modern AU, Mafia AU, arranged marriage, contract marriage, harsh feelings, cancer, verbal sparring, impetuousness, Oberyn is volatile, threats, violence, rough sex, harshness, dominant sex, unprotected sex, loss, death, grief, foursomes, wlw, mlm, oral (male and female receiving), group sex

Comments: Having worked for the notorious mafia family, the Martells, your mother is very sick and you are running out of hope. Until you are summoned by Doran Martell. He will pay for the best treatments and the finest doctors in exchange for one thing. Marrying his brother, Oberyn Martell.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Oberyn Martell MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The Martells are the most powerful family in the city of Dorne. The ability to ruin lives or enhance them with the power, control and wealth they have is immense. They control everything. Nothing happens in their city that they don’t know about and most would never dream of trying to cross the mafia family. The last time that happened, Elia Martell had been killed by the Lannisters and it had sparked a rivalry war that still causes tensions to this day. 

Loyalty means everything to them. Your mother has worked for them your entire life and because of that, you were exposed to things most were not. Living in Sunspear, the large looming tower that the Martell family had built as a symbol of their status. Now, that life is in jeopardy, your mother is sick and you have been summoned by Doran Martell to discuss her condition. 

“Come in, sweet one.” Doran ushers you in with a wave of his hand and you walk in. He gestures to the large chair on the opposite side of his desk and you sit down, wringing your hands together. “How is your mother?” He asks and you bite your lip, trying to stop yourself from crying. 

“She’s good. She’s - she’s not good.” You choke out, tears stinging in your eyes. “She’s- she’s really sick. Stage four breast cancer and we - we don’t have enough money to get her treatment. She has insurance but it’s not enough. They said they’d make her comfortable but we want to fight it.” You reveal, closing your eyes in pain.

Doran knew that the prognosis isn’t good, he’s spoken with her doctors and they believe that the best course of treatment was to keep her comfortable. She has less than six months to live. He taps his desk as he watches you, leaning forward to pull his handkerchief out of his breast pocket and offers it to you. “Then you must fight it.” He decides, knowing that it will be to his advantage to offer this to you. “Your mother has been a loyal member of our household for many years. We will cover the costs of her treatment and care. Hiring the best doctors and nurses.” He pauses. “If you will do me one favor.” Your eyes open, full of hope, ready to do anything and he delivers his demand. “You must marry Oberyn.”

You stare at him in shock for several moments before you laugh, your head shaking as you think about Oberyn Martell being married. The man is infamous for his liaisons with men and women across Dorne. He doesn’t want to settle down and you certainly don’t want to marry a man who can’t keep it in his pants for more than a day. “I don’t want - no. I don’t - why me? He is with Ellaria.”

“Ellaria has no interest in taming some of Oberyn’s….wilder proclivities.” Doran hums. “My brother is quick to fight, easily goaded and offended. You…you are sweet. Gentle.” He presses his finger tips together with his elbows on his desk. “You can temper that nature, I know you can.” You look doubtful, but he knows his brother and despite his insistence that he would never settle down, he would with you. “Marry my brother and your mother will have everything she needs and more. Hopefully to live a long and healthy life. If unsuccessful, you will have the security of being a Martell. Having our family to lean on.” 

You should say no. You should storm out and tell Doran you’d never marry his brother even if your life depended on it. But it’s not your life that depends on it. It’s your mother’s. You swallow harshly and nod, “fine. I’ll marry him. Does he - does he know?” You ask, curious if the man knows about this arrangement. Doran smiles, “he’s fully on board.”

****

“What the fuck are you thinking? Marrying me to that - to that mouse.” Oberyn growls at his brother when he storms into his office. Doran sighs and taps his fingers on his desk, “Oberyn…you need to calm down.”

“Absolutely not. I told you I was never marrying.” Oberyn reminds his brother, temper flashing in his dark eyes, making his swarthy complexion even deeper. The grey that is starting to thread through his hair doesn’t distract from his attractive, yet harsh, features and Oberyn still fights and fucks like a man half his age. Doran sighs. “As head of this family, I have the right to demand you marry, anyone I choose, remember?” He shrugs slightly. “I choose her and you will do it.”

“You want me to continue doing your dirty work? My dear brother, never getting his hands bloody. I do all the hard work. Killing who you order since you cannot. Yet you sit behind that desk and order me to marry a woman I don't want. She’s a mouse. She’s - she’s boring.” Oberyn growls and Doran shakes his head, “she will calm you. She will be good for you. If you do not marry her…I will disinherit you. No properties. No cars. No money. You’ll be out in the cold. You’re volatile. We cannot afford another war with the Lannisters, yet every day you take us closer to it.”

Oberyn hisses angrily at his brother, knowing that he could call his bluff, but the risk to his daughters would be too great. The Sand Snakes do not deserve to have their lives upended. “Marriage will not change me, brother.” He snorts, waving his hand dismissively. “Arrange the affair, the poor girl will be bored out of her mind as I continue to do exactly what I wish.” He turns around and strides from the room confidently as he gets the last word.

Doran shakes his head, knowing his brother is a hard nut to crack but he will try. He wants his brother to settle down before he takes over when Doran steps down. After the car accident, Doran ended up in a wheelchair and he knows he will not be able to lead the family when his body fails him.

****

“Don’t worry, mom.” Holding her hand, you rub the back of it gently, wondering if it’s just your imagination that her skin feels brittle. “Doran has agreed to pay for all the treatments.” You smile, hiding the anguish that you are feeling. This is for your mother, no price is too high. “You are going to have the finest doctors and nurses in Dorne treating you and you will be cured in no time.” Her weak smile is worth it. Reaching out with your other hand, you pull the covers up her body, knowing that she is cold and turning up the heat by another notch. She is cold all the time and luckily you don’t live in the north, Winterfel would be miserable for her. You squeeze her hand gently. “See? I told you that we shouldn’t give up.” 

Oberyn seethes as he watches Ellaria dance with a few other women on stage. His lover doesn’t know the news that he’s getting married yet and he plans to keep it that way. The ice in his glass of whiskey clinks as he grips it in his hand and he hates that he’s being forced into marriage. He vowed to never marry after his sister was killed because she married into another mafia family. The Lannisters killed her. He just can’t prove it. He sighs and Ellaria comes over, climbing into his lap to press her lips to his, “come on lover. Watch up. You rented this private booth for your enjoyment.” She reminds him as the rest of the club goers squeeze in below. 

**** 

You feel overwhelmed. Watching the wedding planner as he pulls out the linen options and cake options and you don’t even care. You’re being bought to marry a Martell and you don’t want to pretend like this wedding is of your own volition. “Where is the groom?” The planner asks and you bite your lip, “he’s-” Oberyn cuts you off with “right here” as he strides into the room with a cigar in hand, his orange shirt half unbuttoned and you hate how attractive he looks.

Awakening before noon is a rarity for Oberyn and despite the late night, he is finding himself to be enjoying the shocked look on your face when he strolls into the room. “Apologies for being late, you know how I hate to drag myself away from my….activities.” He quirks a brow and smirks as he eyes the wedding planner. “You should know that all colors will be Martell colors.” He tuts. “No need to pick anything else. After all, she is marrying into the most powerful family around.” 

You bite your lip to smother your scoff as his cockiness. You shake your head and look down at the plans, the colors you picked are obsolete now that orange and gold have been chosen by him. “What else would you like to have, darling?” You ask sarcastically. You know Oberyn. Your mother works for them so you’ve grown up with the family, watching Doran take over, have the accident, then Oberyn whoring around, killing anyone who dares to look at him the wrong way.

“Wine, lots of wine.” He snorts, tapping his chin as he pretends to contemplate the question even though it’s obvious you would rather he leave. “Perhaps some contortionists and burlesque dancers for the reception?” He knows that will offend your prudish sensibilities and maybe even make you mad enough to call off the wedding. If you refuse to go through with it, Doran cannot complain. 

You clench your jaw, you know what he's trying to get to you to do and you won’t let him. You need to make sure your mom gets treatment. You won’t allow him to ruin this. When your mom is better, you’ll divorce him and he can have his life back. “Whatever you want.” You hum, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of you arguing. “Perhaps we can have a vanilla wedding cake?” You suggest, wanting something simple and you know that’s your mom’s favorite.

Vanilla. Boring. Just like you seem to be. Oberyn rolls his eyes but he’s nodding. “The cake can be whatever you want it to be.” He promises, making it seem like he is being generous. “I also want cupcakes of every flavor.” He smirks at the wedding planner and sends him a small wink. “I like variety.”

You can’t refrain from rolling your eyes this time. “Yeah. Cupcakes. Every flavor. Of course, vanilla isn’t enough for him.” You tell the planner who glances between the two of you. You are struggling to even get through this but you will. Oberyn looks at the table layout and quickly moves people around, a glint in his eye and he frowns after a moment, “Ellaria needs a table.” He declares and you inhale sharply, unable to believe he has the audacity to invite his lover to your wedding. “She’s - I didn’t think- it’s a family affair.” You remind him and he scoffs, “she is family.” You sigh, reminded that he cares little for loyalty and a monogamous relationship.  You remember a few years ago the Martells were throwing a party for Doran and your mother was invited and you joined her. You overheard Oberyn proudly telling his friends that he could fuck who he wanted. Marriage was a ball and chain and he refused to be tamed. He wanted freedom to fuck who he wants. He also went on to say he hated women who didn’t know what they wanted from sex. Women who were timid or shy. That made you roll your eyes and stride off to search for a glass of champagne. Since you were a little girl, all you ever wanted was a loving relationship. A man who loved you and was loyal to you, dedicated and caring. Now, you’re marrying a man who couldn’t give a shit about you.

Oberyn is surprised that you aren’t pitching a fit, sure that you would be insulted. “Fantastic.” He murmurs, leaning close to unsettle you and he’s struck by how sensual your perfume is. He is not a man who restrains himself often, so he presses his lips to your pulse in a gesture that anyone else would find loving and intimate. “You and I will get along well, my sweet little Dove.” He coos in your ear. 

You resist the urge to shiver and recoil as he backs away and you want to slap him for kissing you. You don’t know what Doran coerced him with to marry you but it’s obvious he has no plans to change his lifestyle and you don’t care. You just want to give your mother a chance, if there is any hope of her beating the cancer. You won’t let Oberyn ruin this. You need to do this for your mom’s sake. “Whatever you want, baby.” You coo, reaching up to caress his cheek and the wedding planner smiles, “you make such a beautiful couple.” You lower your hand and thank him. “Let’s discuss the outfits. I have you booked to go wedding dress shopping on Saturday. Oberyn, you will have your tailor work on your suit?”

He hums, knowing that Doran will want him to have a new suit made for the event. “Do you want something traditional or bold and daring?” He asks, arching a brow at you and smirking. 

“Traditional.” You tell him, not wanting to look like you’re in Vogue even though you literally will be in Vogue with the man beside you. He looks disappointed with your answer but you don’t care. This isn’t a runway event, it’s a wedding. “Black tie it is.” Oberyn nods, although he will sneak in some orange and gold. The wedding planner makes some notes and claps, “very well. We have everything we need to get this wedding going. T-minus twenty days. I’ve never planned a wedding so fast.” He confesses, almost wondering why he needs to plan it so fast. His eyes drop down to your stomach but there’s no indication that you are pregnant. He had been told about your mother so that could be why it’s being planned so fast.

“I want my daughters there.” Oberyn tells you. “In the wedding or not, I will dance with each one at the reception.” He has eight daughters, eight bastards that he publicly and proudly claims as his own. He is a doting father and his own wedding will be no exception. “I don’t suppose you have decided on a ring yet, have you Dove?”

You know that Oberyn has lived many lives before you met him. You sigh and shake your head, “I don’t expect a ring. You know what this is.” You murmur, not wanting to take more than what you need for your mother. You need to help her and you don’t want the Martell money to wear on your finger as a reminder of your situation.

The wedding planner is not standing next to you, but Oberyn is offended. “Whatever this might be, you will have a ring.” He will not have someone talk about his lack of care for his bride, even if he does not wish to get married. “I will have the jeweler come tonight with a selection of rings for you to choose from.” He informs you. “Pick what you will like from them.”

You scoff, "how romantic." You roll your eyes and watch the planner gather his things while Oberyn is next to you. You hate how he seems to loom over you, his aura overwhelming you. He's always been that way. You look down at your bare left hand and try to envision his ring on your finger but it feels foreign and wrong.

“It is better than picking some monstrosity you hate.” He snorts. “I don’t think that you would like my taste in jewelry, you don’t seem to like my taste in anything, Dove.” Now that he’s seen your reaction to this, he feels that you are no more happy about the situation than he is. “Or are you hoping that your innocence will intrigue me?”

You snort, "I don't want to intrigue you. You are indulgent, quick to kill, and ostentatious. I am not. I have never killed. I have never been - been promiscuous. We are worlds apart and this marriage is for us to get what we want." You declare, knowing he would never marry you if it weren't for his brother.

“What I want?” He snorts, oddly insulted by your description of him even though you aren’t wrong. “Believe me, there is nothing in this arrangement that I want.”

His words sting even though you aren't remotely interested in a relationship with him but you don't want to show him how his words hurt. You stiffen and look at him, ignoring the way his dark eyes seem to burn into you. "The only thing I want is for my mother to live. I'll do whatever it takes to save her. Even marry you." You hiss and stride off, the wedding planning finished and you want to get home and pretend for a while that this isn't happening.

Oberyn watches you go, a frown creasing his brow and he has to admit that he admires that. You don’t want him, that’s obvious. You aren’t a good actress and he wouldn’t have believed you if you tried to seduce him. He pulls out his phone and calls his brother, even if the man is still in the same house he is. “Doran….tell me about the mother.” He demands.

**** 

You stare at yourself in the mirror, almost confused by the person looking back at you, and you don't recognize the woman standing there in the white dress. A bride. You look like a bride and you glance back at the iPad where your mom is on there watching you try on dresses. She was confused when you told her you were marrying Oberyn when you had been vocally disapproving of him. "You look beautiful, baby." She coos and you smile, tears stinging in your eyes as you wish you were marrying someone you loved instead of Oberyn.

“This is a beautiful choice.” The sales woman had been very attentive when she learned whose bride you are. The announcement had been made in the papers and on all the major Dornish networks two days ago. She knows that no expense will be spared on the Martell wedding and that means a hefty commission for her. “Would you like to try the shoes you picked out?”

You nod, chest feeling tight at how real this is starting to feel. You inhale shakily, watching the associate go to fetch the shoes and you lift your dress to try on the shoes that cost more than you’d spend in shoes in a lifetime. You turn to face the iPad again and your mom grins, clapping her hands and you hate how frail she looks. “Beautiful. Beautiful.” She grins and you offer her a weak smile.

“Oh I am so happy that I will get to be there for this.” She tells you, having feared the worst when her diagnosis was terminal. “The new doctors have been wonderful, they assure me that their treatment course has a better prognosis than before.” She beams tiredly through the camera. “Perhaps there will be grandchildren soon to help bolster my strength.”

You nod, swallowing down the hope that your mom could get better. She could beat this. She doesn’t know that this is fake. You told her that you fell hard and fast for Oberyn and he wanted to marry you before anything happened to your mom. She bought the story, the drugs clouding her judgment and you are grateful you can give her this happiness. You sigh and brush down the dress, looking at yourself in the mirror. You never imagined you’d be marrying for money but here you are. If your mom lives, it’s worth every second of misery being married to a man who can’t keep it in his pants.

“This arrived to the store for you.” The assistant brings over a box that is plain and sturdy. Obviously old. You frown slightly and take the small card that is with it and flip it open. “Dove, this veil has been worn by Martell women for over two hundred years. Wear it well. Oberyn.” There is no sentiment behind the words, but the thoughtfulness of it surprises you. Opening the box to find a stunning antique place veil that has small yellow and orange suns delicately embroidered around the edges of the throat length overlay and the twenty foot train. It’s an heirloom piece and absolutely stunning.

The sales associate comes over and gasps at the veil. “The last woman to wear this was Elia.” She reminds you of the last Martell woman who was killed by the Mountain on the order of the Lannisters. A man who still walks the earth today by some miracle because Oberyn has been very vocal about killing him. She carefully removes the veil from the box and secures it on your head. It’s so delicate but combined with the dress, you look like a princess. “Oh my God.” You choke as your mother says the same words but as a tearful coo. “You look beautiful. Like a Martell.” She cries happily and you stare at yourself in the mirror. A Martell. This is real. You’re marrying a man you do not love. You carefully touch the veil and take a moment until you turn to the sales associate and tell her you’re going to take the dress. It’s ridiculously expensive but Oberyn already has told the shop to let you buy whatever you want. You say goodbye to your mom and shut the iPad after you change into your clothes and you head back to your apartment to find it being packed up. “What the hell is this?” You ask the moving man who shrugs, “moving you into your new place with your hubby to be, sweet cheeks.” He declares and you clench your jaw. You knew you’d be moving in with Oberyn to keep up appearances but not so soon.

The man watching over the packing pushes off the counter where he was leaning against it as he eats a bowl of berries from your refrigerator and saunters over towards you. “Don’t worry, they won’t break anything.” He promises. He is Oberyn’s right hand man, handsome and just as quick to violence as the man Dorne had labeled the ‘Red Viper’ and ‘the Prince of Dorne’ due to his second in command status. This made Dario third in command in his mind. “Although maybe you should invest in some lingerie to entice Oberyn.” He suggests with a smirk. “The drawer is a little….bland.”

You narrow your eyes, hating that Dario has looked through your underwear drawer. Hating that your life is being moved because of Oberyn. "I don't think I'll be enticing Oberyn at all. This is - you know what this is." You hiss at the cocky man who smirks as he stands in your kitchen. "I do. Which means you better make it worth his while since he's marrying you to save your mother." He hums, reaching out to cup your cheek and you jerk your head from his touch. "Shame as well. You're a pretty one. Stuck up but nothing a bit of anal wouldn't change." He chuckles and you wrinkle your nose, "you're disgusting." You scoff and turn to make sure the movers aren't damaging anything.

**** 

“Lover, where do you expect her to stay?” Ellaria’s body stretches out across the settee, head back as she tilts her head up to look into her lover’s eyes. Her smile is almost secretive, as if she knows something that Oberyn does not. She might, she’s been with the man for over a decade, birthed four of his children and has no issue sharing him with whomever catches his fancy. Oberyn huffs and shakes his head. “There are plenty of rooms. She can take up an entire floor for all I care, but she will live in Sunspear.” Doran had made it clear that you would be his wife and he would treat you accordingly. It was why he had sent the veil over to the dress shop. It was important you wear it. To show all of Dorne that you are his, a Martell.

You glance around the place you’ve been moved to. It’s beautiful and you look out across Dorne to the sea, blue and glistening under the hot sun. You sigh and inhale deeply now that the movers have left and unpacked. You didn’t need to lift a finger and you wonder if that is how the Martell’s live. Rich and famous for all the wrong reasons, you wonder what your life will become. Your mom is in the hospital, a private wing paid for by Doran and a reminder of your agreement. You don’t hear the door behind you open until Oberyn’s “hello” reaches your ears and you sigh, turning to look at your husband-to-be. He looks disheveled and it annoys you to no end that he looks hot yet you can tell he’s been with his lover. “I didn’t expect you to return.” You confess, “figured you’d be with your lover until the weddings

Oberyn smirks slightly at the comment. “You are not as innocent as you look.” He hums, walking farther into the room and picking up a crystal figurine that you have sitting on a table. “It is comfortable, no? You have everything you need?”

You nod, “it’s beautiful here.” You look out the window again, “I see why you are so…you. Being gifted this beautiful life.” You murmur, turning back to look at him as he sets the crystal down. “I know you are with Ellaria. I don’t - should we say I know about it or should we say it’s over?” You ask, wanting to know to react if you’re asked about it.

He arches a brow at the surprisingly mature take. He had expected you to make a snide comment about his lover of many years. “You can say what you wish. Even tell people she is your lover.” He chuckles, not even able to imagine that, although Ellaria thinks you are very appealing in a virginal way. “She would not mind.”

You roll your eyes, knowing this is a woman he has children with. “Come now, people won’t believe I am her lover. I need - I’ll tell people it’s an open relationship. Easiest way since you're unlikely to become monogamous.” You huff and walk over to the fridge to take a bottle of water out. “I don’t know what you get from this arrangement apart from annoying me at every turn.”

Oberyn snorts. “Perhaps I like to annoy you.” He muses, wondering how you are to temper his impulses when you can’t stand him. “You are free to have whatever lovers you wish.” Your mouth drops open in shock and he holds up a finger to silence you. “Two rules. No bastards and you don’t fuck my men.”

You think about Dario, how he eyed you, and you bite your lip, wondering if you can rile your fiancé up. “I can promise no bastards.” Which makes you chuckle internally considering he has eight daughters out of wedlock. “For your men…I don’t know if I can promise that.” You hum vaguely, liking the way he clenches his jaw.

Fury heats his veins and he is moving before you can react, grabbing your arms and hauling you closer, his nose nearly touching yours. “I do not hurt women, but I will kill every one of my men you touch.” He hisses. “I will not have them thinking to fight me for your cunt.”

You gulp, his fingers digging into your arms to give you a glimpse of the dangerous man he is. You nod, your nose bumping his as you say “I understand.” You don’t want anyone to die because of you. You have had boyfriends, lovers, but you refuse to have your image tarnished by taking a lover while married to Oberyn. You hope this can be annulled once enough time has passed and your mother is better.

****

“You look perfect.” The irony of having Ellaria help him get ready for a wedding to another woman is not lost on him. She smirks as she adjusts his bow tie slightly. “I will have to pick out quite a few lovers tonight to distract myself from missing out on your wedding night.” The pout she sends him is playful and he snorts. “I will be spending tonight in our bed with you and whoever catches our interests.” He captures her hands and holds them, his eyes serious and dark. “This changes nothing between us.”

You brush down your dress, your mom in a beautiful dress, sitting in her wheelchair with the IV connected to her arm. She’s so frail but her smile is beaming and your heart warms at her happiness. Even if she doesn’t quite understand this farce, she’s happy and you can give this day to her. If she doesn’t survive, you’ll know you did everything for her. “He’s going to be blown away.” She coos and you offer her a weak smile in the mirror. You have no bridesmaids, not wanting anyone else involved in this sham and your wedding planner helps you put the intricate veil on your head.

Oberyn stands next to the priest, sure that the Gods will be laughing as he professes to take this woman as his wife. The church is packed, everyone wanting to see the infamous Oberyn Martell marry. Some said it would never be done. He glances at his brother who is sitting in his chair on the front row, making sure that this marriage happens. He cuts his eyes towards the door and sighs.

The music begins to play and for a second, you want to run away and not look back. Then you remember your mother’s face and your chest tightens. You need to do this for her. You inhale deeply and nod, letting the ushers open the doors, and you grip your bouquet as you start your trip down the aisle to a man that doesn’t love you and you don’t love him.

Glancing quickly at Ellaria, Oberyn turns to watch as you start the slow, measured walk down the aisle that is covered in silk flower petals. Some might have believed that he had never married because Ellaria was deemed unsuitable to be his wife, but that was not the truth. The truth was, the part of Oberyn’s heart that loved - beyond his children - died the day his sister was savagely killed. Brutalized and cut down, the vision of her final moments and the loss of his favorite sibling had hardened his heart. Even now, he loves Ellaria in his own way, he cares for her and makes sure that she is provided for, but he does not hold her in an all consuming passion. He does not crave her like he craves air. Watching as your white clad body glides forward, he wonders if you will understand that.

You can feel his eyes on you and you force yourself to look up from the aisle to meet his dark gaze. His stare is intense and you wonder what’s going through his mind. He’s a mystery. He’s been with Ellaria for years on and off and never married her. He’s had eight daughters and never been married. Either he can’t commit or he doesn’t want to commit. You finally stand before him, handing your bouquet to the wedding planner and you take Oberyn’s outstretched hand to stand in front of the priest.

Despite your obvious dislike of the situation, you look beautiful and graceful. Your hand is soft and warm in his and your eyes meet his with a determination that pulls reluctant admiration out of you. This is for your mother, he knows that. The frail woman is here and that is a miracle because the doctors are trying every radical treatment they can to save her. He has known her most of his life and he has to respect this kind of loyalty to her. The willingness to do anything to save her. He pulls you close and starts to flip the veil over your head so he can see you clearly.

Your eyes meet his unhindered as he lifts the veil from your face and you inhale shakily as he reaches for your hands. You barely pay attention to the priest, letting him make his speech but Oberyn has to squeeze your hand to get your attention when the priest asks if you take Oberyn to be your husband. You hesitate for a moment, biting your lip and look over at your mother who is smiling with tears in her eyes. You can’t say no. She needs to have one last chance. “I do.” You declare and Oberyn’s grip on your hands loosens while he says “I do.” After your exchange rings and the priest finishes his speech, you’re in a daze until the priest declares you husband and wife. “You may now kiss your bride.”

His lips curve into a smirk. Not shy about gathering you closer to kiss you without any fear of you pushing him away or slapping him. Not that it would bother him, he doesn’t mind when a lover is rough. It’s exciting. He makes it a scene, dipping you down and kissing you thoroughly, his tongue sliding into your mouth to taste you and turning what should be a chaste kiss into something much more carnal.

Your cheeks burn when he finally sets you on your feet, lips glistening and the crowd cheers as he takes your hand and guides you down the aisle. You hate how your lips tingle and you would never admit it but he’s a good kisser. You stumble slightly but he keeps you upright and you make your way down the aisle until you’re in the hallway, your chest heaving as you let go of his hand. “Well that will certainly be in all the magazines.” You declare and Oberyn chuckles, “had to sell it, Dove. Can’t have people thinking I don’t satisfy my bride.” You scoff and make your way down the hall to the photographers that are waiting. “We both know it’s not going to be my bed you’re in tonight.”

“Disappointed?” He leans close, invading your space and to the photographers, it looks as if Oberyn is whispering sweet nothings in your ear. “You just need to invite me to your bed and I will make sure you have a wedding night you would never forget.” Despite his objections to marrying you, he has no issue fucking you. It would be interesting to aid in striping away your virginal facade and turning you into his own little whore.

You smile and turn to look at him, reaching up to cup his cheek, “I’ll never let you fuck me. You can take my hand, my life as your own, but you’ll never have my body.” You lean in to peck his lips and turn back to the cameras, almost blinded by the lights. Oberyn has had more lovers than you’ve had hot dinners and you refuse to give him that kind of power over you. You know he’d never let you forget it if you let him fuck you. Then he’d leave and go back to Ellaria’s bed. No, you’d never give him that hold over you.

Instead of being angry by your vow, Oberyn bursts out laughing, amused by the venom in your words. His cock twitches, imagining making you eat those words when you fall into his bed eventually. “Then you should not worry about who screams my name tonight.” He murmurs quietly. “Although I’m sure you will hear it.”

The irony of this situation is not lost on you. Doran picked you to calm his brother down but you seem to be riled up by his nature, leaving behind your normally gentle and agreeable personality in favor of defending yourself. His hand cups the back of your neck as per the shouted instructions from the photographer and you smile at him but say through gritted teeth, “rather them than me.”

“Temper, temper.” He muses, winking at you before he drags you closer for a kiss so the photographer can capture the moment. He finds your unrestrained hatred of him refreshing. He doesn’t like when people kiss his ass unless he is in the mood. “Then I will make sure I have a group of them.”

You let him kiss you and you wonder how you’re going to endure the reception when you’re only on the photos. After you take photos with your family, you and Oberyn enter the reception hall to applause and you let him pull you close for the first dance. You don’t say anything, leaning your head on his shoulder to make sure you look close without needing to speak to him and you close your eyes, not wanting to see the crowd watching you.

The moment would actually be considered sweet if there was some semblance of affection between the two of you. When the song comes to a close, the DJ that is setting the mood announces a dance between mother and daughter.

You are surprised but you go over to your mom who is in her wheelchair and she attempts to get up “no mom, don’t stress yourself. We can dance in the wheelchair.” Your mother shakes her head, “absolutely not. I will dance at my baby’s wedding, without being in a wheelchair.” You don’t argue with her, you just help her stand and guide her over to the dancefloor when the song begins and you gently sway with your frail Mother tears sting in your eyes when you try not show how sad you are, but she seems to be getting worse. You had hoped that the treatments at Martells would help her. You don’t see it in her eyes, but she knows that she is dying and she wants to enjoy every moment she has left.

Oberyn watches until it’s obvious that you are supporting most of your mother’s weight and he quickly steps in behind her. Shifting the weight off of you, he grins to the crowd watching. “I was jealous of two beautiful ladies dancing without me.” He jokes, making everyone laugh and making it seem like his impulsive nature is to blame instead of your mother’s frailty.

You can’t deny that Oberyn wrapping his arms around your mom’s waist makes you smile in thanks and the song plays as Oberyn sways you both. When the song ends, he playfully lifts your mom into his arms, carrying her over to her chair. “You’re supposed to carry my daughter.” She giggles and Oberyn winks after he sits her down, “that’s for later.” He presses a soft kiss to the back of your mom’s hand.

Your mother giggles again quietly, charmed by Oberyn’s flirtatious nature even though she’s aware of the man’s proclivities. Perhaps he has changed for you, the thought makes her happy to know that you will have a strong man at your side when she is gone. He winks at her before he stands straight and the DJ announces the first of eight dances with his daughters.

You settle down at your table to watch Oberyn dance with his daughters, each one getting their own dance and you watch him as he speaks softly to them, making them laugh and smile, and sends them to their table with a kiss on the cheek and a hug. It’s clear he adores them. You feel eyes watching you and you turn your head, your eyes meeting Ellaria’s as she offers you a soft smile. You’re surprised she doesn’t hate you. Isn’t glaring at you for marrying her lover.

When you don’t cut your eyes at her, Ellaria picks up her glass of champagne and stands up. Slinking across the hall in a dress that is a little too revealing to be considered proper, but she wears it well. “Dove.” She smiles, sliding into the seat where Oberyn will be sitting later to eat. “You look more beautiful than I imagined you would. You wear the Martell veil well.”

You know people are watching so you offer her a soft smile, “thank you. I was shocked when Oberyn gave it to me. I am sure he always imagined you’d be the one wearing this for his wedding day. I wondered before this charade why you never married each other.” You ponder out loud. “You know about our arrangement and why we are doing this. I have no malice towards you. You are his lover, the mother of his children. I do not know why Doran wanted me to marry his brother.”

She watches you for a moment before she laughs, a beautiful trilling sound of amusement, her head tipped back to expose her long neck. “Oh darling, I see why he wanted you to marry Oberyn.” She hums when she calms down. “And I would have never married him.” She admits causally, shrugging one elegant shoulder. “We do not have that kind of relationship.” She knows how Oberyn feels and she would have never tied herself to him with those things in mind. He was too free of a spirit and so was she, if the truth was told.

You frown, certain that Oberyn loves Ellaria more than anything, but maybe you don’t know the entire story. “I don’t expect him to stop sleeping with you. We aren’t - this isn’t a marriage of love. This is convenient.” You clarify and pick up your glass of champagne, taking a sip while Oberyn spins his daughter around.

“I don’t know if that is alllll true.” She murmurs, a small smile on her face. “And it is wise that you don’t expect him to stop being who he is.” She lifts a brow in irony. “We never want to change someone when we love them.”

You nod, “yeah. I don’t care what he does. I only want my mother to survive. Whatever Oberyn does is his business. I just don’t want him to make me look a fool.” You confess, setting your glass down and everyone claps as Oberyn finishes his last dance.

“Then don’t be surprised by anything that he does.” Ellaria leans forward seriously. “Oberyn might not love you, he doesn’t love me either. Not like you might think, but he is loyal….in his own way.” She cautions you. “You are now his and he will expect the same kind of loyalty from you that he gives you.”

Your frown deepens as she says he doesn’t love her. You’ve heard the rumors of how intense their relationship is. You assumed they were deeply in love. “I won’t make a fool of him.” You assure her, “I just want my mother to survive and after that? Well, that would be a miracle problem to have.”

The other woman glances over at the frail woman with a look of concern and presses her lips together. “I hope that you get your wish.” She murmurs, reaching out and taking your hand. “Let me know if there is anything I can do.”

You appreciate her not spitting in your face since you are stealing her lover as your husband. You squeeze her hand and she glides back to her table as Oberyn passes her. He kisses her cheek and makes his way over to your table, sitting down beside you. "Ellaria likes you." He declares and you snort, "You can tell from just one kiss?"

“My lover is not shy about things she likes.” He chuckles quietly. “Now, I am famished, and I think that we should eat.” He offers, nodding to the wedding planner to have the servers start bringing out the plates of food. The canapés had been good, but he wanted something more. “Eat up.” He winks at you. “You will need your strength.”

You refrain from rolling your eyes and reach for your glass of champagne so you can down it. It’s going to be a long night but you are prepared to endure it when your mom looks like she’s won the lottery. She looks so happy so you force a smile and sit beside Oberyn like you’ve won your own lottery.

The party is still in full swing when you and Oberyn make your exit, ducking the handfuls of birdseed and confetti that all the party goers throw. Holding tight to your hand, he rushes you out, getting to the elevators before he drops your hand and pulls out his keycard to open up the access to the floors where your and his apartments are located. “The party will go on for hours.” He predicts as the car doors slide open and you step onto the elevator. “Pity we will miss it. It was a good one. The dancers the planner found were….limber.”

You lean against the wall of the elevator car, watching the floors pass by and you inhale deeply, looking at Oberyn. “You are welcome to rejoin if you wish but I suppose we need to make people think we consummated our marriage.” You hum and you know you won’t stop him from finding someone to warm his bed.

His brow arches and he smirks, leaning closer to you and pressing you closer to the wall. “Are you going to invite me between those pretty thighs, Dove?” He coos, reaching up to caress your neck, his thumb rubbing your pulse. Your scoff grates on his ears, irritating him when he has been flirty and kind to you. He has done nothing today to humiliate you or demoralize you and yet you are pushing him away like he is the gum on the bottom of your show. Him, Oberyn Martell. His piercing hot look turns cold and he hisses. “It does not matter.” He snorts. “I have people lined up to suck my cock if you have no desire to.” He boasts. “Any one I want. Why would I want you?” It’s petty and cruel, but he can be that way when he’s insulted. “You have the demeanor of a cold fish anyway. I like my partners to enjoy themselves.”

His words shouldn’t hurt as much as they do but you stiffen and when the elevator dings to announce your arrival, you stride out of the car into the apartment without hesitation. “Then go find your pleasure anywhere but my bed. I didn’t marry you to fuck you, Oberyn. I married you to save my mother. You need to remember that.” You hiss and slam the door behind you to your bedroom, slumping down on the bed. You listen to the elevator ding again and tears sting in your eyes until they roll down your cheeks. You married a man who doesn’t love you and you hate that you had to do this to save your mother. Your sobs come when you realize you can’t get out of your dress without help so you lay down, constricted by the lace, and cry for your marriage and your mother.

“Lover…” Ellaria slumps onto the bed, worn out and exhausted. “I need rest.” Oberyn chuckles, his wedding attire strewn over the floor as his hand slides over her sweat slick hip and he slaps the ass off the man who is laying beside her. “Then you watch.” He tells her, lunging forward to slide his tongue into the man’s mouth as he tries to forget about how your eyes had flickered with hurt before you turned that tongue on him.

**** 

It’s been a few weeks since you and Oberyn married and you’ve barely seen him. You are with your mother every day as she struggles to get through treatment and you know it’s a fruitless effort. She’s withering away and even selling your soul to the Martell’s won’t save her. You arrive back at the apartment after your mom fell asleep and you’re surprised to see Dario standing in your kitchen. “What - what are you doing here?” You ask, confused and looking around for Oberyn.

Dario smirks as he pops another piece of an orange that he had stolen from your fruit bowl into his mouth. “Checking on you.” He quips and flings the rind of the fruit onto the counter as he walks towards you. “Haven’t seen you around and wanted to make sure you aren’t……lonely.” He knows that Oberyn hasn’t been spending his nights in your bed. He has men and women parading out of the floor that he shares with Ellaria. He slides his hot gaze up and down your body suggestively and licks his lips. “Perhaps you prefer someone who knows what he wants.”

Your back stiffens and you realize he is alone with you. You glance around the apartment and he reaches out to caress your cheek. You freeze, unsure of what to do when you’re alone and you know what he’s capable of. “I’m not - Oberyn is - I’m not allowed to touch any of Oberyn’s men.”

“He won’t know.” He muses. “Too busy playing with his whore and everyone else.” He snorts. “Did you reject him? He’s fucking everything that walks like you did. Proving to himself that your cunt doesn’t matter, but I think it does.” He steps closer and smirks. “I want to have something he doesn’t. For once.”

You are frozen in place, your mind skipping and you know you should push him away but he leans in to press his lips to your cheek, a chuckle breathed against your skin, and your back hits the kitchen counter as he crowds you, his other hand on your waist.

Dario takes your non-refusal as acceptance. His body pressing against yours as his mouth moves from your cheek to your lips. Mindless to anything but you letting him kiss you. Not hearing the door to the apartment open or the quick steps towards you, anger lacing each boot strike. He doesn’t even know that anyone else is in the apartment, too focused on his victory over Oberyn, until a hand grabs his shoulder and he is dragged off you like a rag doll. A fist plowing into his face before his eyes even open to see who is there. “Bastard!” Oberyn shouts, kicking the man while he is down before he backs up. “You were warned not to touch her.” He roars.

You gasp, shuffling to get out of the way as Oberyn straddles Dario and his fist comes down on his face. "Oberyn. I - he didn't - he hasn't fucked me." You yell at him but he continues to hit his second in command.

“You want what is mine?” Oberyn rages, hitting him with one fist, then the other with alternating strikes. Dario had thrown his hands up to defend himself but the force of the attack renders him helpless as his boss beats him. He gurgles out an apology, barely heard and not acknowledged. “I let you have everything - anything - you want. But not her. I told you that you are getting too comfortable.” He had known Dario was jealous, thinking himself the better man. It was why he had told him that he couldn’t have you. No one could. If the man fucked his wife, he would start thinking he could replace Oberyn, and he would never let that happen.

You scream at Oberyn to stop. Dario might have been handsy but he doesn’t deserve to die. You watch as Oberyn hits until Dario goes unconscious and your husband’s chest heaves as he looks up at you, sweat on his brow and his knuckles torn up. “Holy shit.” You gasp, kneeling down, “I can’t - why did you - why?” You ask breathlessly.

Panting, Oberyn reaches for you as he leaps to his feet. He is still agile and deadly, making you gasp with the speed at which he moves. He growls as he shakes you slightly. “I told you not to touch my men.” He hisses, right before his lips slam against yours in a bruising kiss.

When you look back on the moment you kiss him back and you realize it was adrenaline. Your hands tangle in his hair and you moan into his mouth, pressing yourself against him. He slides his tongue into your mouth and you moan, sliding yours against his and you feel his cock hardening against your hip.

Dario doesn’t groan, still unconscious on the floor as Oberyn backs you against the wall and presses you into it. Completely taking control of the kiss as his hands grab your ass and he pulls you up into his arms and presses against your core as he carries you through the apartment to your bedroom.

You don’t reject him, hyped up on adrenaline and the feelings that have been haunting you since the night you got married. His dark eyes find you everywhere - in the coffee you drink, in the chocolate you treated yourself to, and you know you need to get him out of your system. Your back hits the bedsheets and he follows, kneeling between your legs and his lips press against your jaw. “Oberyn.” You gasp, tilting your head as you close your eyes so he can destroy you like you always knew he would.

His name on your lips is all the permission he needs. Hands pulling at the clothes you are wearing. Stripping them as efficiently and and quickly as possible. Greedy for every bare inch of flesh you reveal to him and his lips travel over your neck. His teeth leaving a trail of marks behind as he claims you as his own.

You want to see all of him. To know if the rumors of his beauty are exaggerated or if they are true. You unbutton his half buttoned shirt, pushing it from his shoulders and he shrugs it off, tossing it aside, while your hands caress his chest down to his stomach.

“You do not even look at my men.” Oberyn hisses, flipping open his belt and snapping it out of the loops of his pants, the gun holster dropping to the floor and sliding away. Reminding you of how easily he could have killed Dario. He grabs your hands, thinking to tie them to the bed, but he wants you to touch him. To be just as hungry for his body as he has been for yours. He’s never been denied, and instead of it making him indifferent, it has made him crave you. Tossing the belt aside, he holds your hands above your head, making your tits stick up in their lacy bra and he ducks his head to bite down on a nipple.

You cry out, arching your back and you wrap your legs around his waist, grinding up against him. “Fuck. I- I- shit. Baby.” You cry out, “I need you inside me. Now.” You beg, cunt aching with the need to have him stretch you out.

His pants disappeared, underwear was never a thing, so it isn’t a barrier between the two of you. His fingers twist under your panties and he rips them apart at the seams. Taking you at your word that you need him.

You gasp when he rips your panties off and you spread your legs for him without hesitation. You desperately want him inside of you. The way he defended what is his even if you aren’t his in heart, you are on paper, and the way he took out Dario has you ashamedly wet. “Fuck me, Oberyn.” You whine when he grips his cock and shifts between your thighs.

He loves the way you are begging him. His smirk is self satisfied and predatory as he shuffles close and swipes his cock through your soaked folds. “Gods, Dove.” He growls. “You will remember tonight.” He vows, lining his cock up and snapping his hips forward as he covers your mouth with his own.

You cry out into his mouth, the sound smothered by his tongue, and your hands find his back, scratching your nails down the golden skin as his cock stretches you out. There’s a sting but you love it.

Oberyn would never insult you to say that you are the best cunt he’s ever been inside. You wouldn’t believe him. However you are wet and tight, fitting him like a glove. He doesn’t give you a moment to adjust, drawing his hips to plunge back into you just as fast, eagerly setting a frantic pace.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he starts to fuck you. There’s no mistaking this for love making. It’s fucking, through and through. His hips hit your ass and you feel like you can barely breathe as he grunts into your mouth. It’s been so long since you had sex, focused on your mother’s health, and it's bliss to think about nothing except how you feel.

One hand braces on the bed below you, the other squeezes your tit. Pinching your nipple harshly to make you gasp and clench around his cock before he slides his hand lower. Finding your clit with precision accuracy and starting to rub tight, perfect circles on the bundle of nerves. Very practiced in pleasuring men and women alike.

“Holy shit. Oh - oh Gods, Oberyn. Baby. Oh shit.” You pant as he rocks into you, his fingers rubbing your clit, and you whimper as you scratch your nails down his back, marking him in the only way you can. “You’re gonna - shit. I’m gonna - I’m gonna cum.” You gasp, the feeling suddenly overwhelming you.

He doesn’t slow his pace down. His hips slapping against your ass. “Good girl, Dove.” He groans, kissing along your jaw. “Cum on my cock. Soak me.” He orders, feeling your body clench down around him.

The wail you let out is almost inhuman and you clamp down on his cock, a cry of his name barely distinguishable as you soak his cock with your cum. Your nails digging into his back and his cock working you through your orgasm.

He’s determined to make you never forget being in bed with him, fucking him. Wanting you to crave it every time your cunt throbs with need and your thoughts stray to having someone plunge into you. His men are off limits, unable to touch you like he does. You can have him, Ellaria and anyone else, but he wants you to want him.

You moan as he works you through your orgasm and you are sure he’s punching your guts with his cock as he pushes deep on each harsh movement of his hips. “Oberyn.” You whine when he pulls out of you and he flips you onto your hands and knees. You struggle to balance as he kneels behind you and pushes into you with a speed you never expected.

The weeks that you have been married and he’s been denied your body, they are being made up for right now. Every time he’s wanted to fuck you and not been able to is being taken out on your body. He groans when you clamp down around him again.

Your fingers tangle in the sheets and you moan his name as he rocks into you. He feels even bigger in this angle and you arch your back, your tits swaying as he fucks you with his entire body. “Yes baby. Shit. That’s - keep going. Don’t you dare stop.”

He chuckles at your demands, finding your bossiness in bed charming. Digging his fingers into your hips hard enough to leave bruises under your skin, he hisses out your name as he continues to pound into you.

You whine, head dropping down as he wrecks you, and you know why the Red Viper is so well known as a voracious lover. “Fuck. Fuck. You’re - I’m gonna - oh shit. Keep going. Right there.” You cry, eyes squeezed shut as he hits something incredible and it takes two more thrusts to unravel you.

Your orgasm is beautiful, your cry loud enough that anyone near your apartments would hear his name being screamed. Hissing in pleasure while the cream from your cunt soaks his cock, making obscene sounds as he fucks you through it. “That’s right.” He groans. “Fuck, you are happy now, aren’t you? Getting fucked like you’ve dreamed of. You needed this, didn’t you?”

“Fu- fuck you. I don’t - shit. I want - want to feel you.” You choke out, chest heaving as he fucks the air from your lungs. “You - you wanted my pussy. You’re the one who - who wants to fuck anything going and I- I tried to hold out.” You confess in gasps.

His fingers wrap around the back of your neck, pulling you up and wrapping an arm around your chest. His hand cupping your tit as he pumps up into you from a new angle. “Yes, I wanted this pussy.” He growls in your ear. “Craved it, fucked anything I could to take my mind off of it, off you.” He pants out the confession. “Nothing worked until I found you kissing my lieutenant.”

You lean back against him, turning your head so you can look at him. Sweat on his brow and his jaw clenched as he thrusts up into you. “It was yours on paper. Your wife. Your pussy. I don’t make it easy. You had to show me that I wasn’t going to be thrown out of your bed after you’ve gotten what you want.”

His eyes are dark and hot, boring into yours as he thrusts into you, rocking you towards another orgasm. His other hand slides down to your clit where he starts rubbing it again. “Mine.” He agrees. “My wife, my lover, you can be in my bed whenever you want. Have your cunt licked while I have my cock sucked. Bounce on my lover’s cock while I bury mine inside him. Cum on Ellaria’s fingers while I fuck her. Nothing will be denied to you.” He groans. “Except my men.”

Dario laying on the kitchen floor is proof of that. You know now that he will kill anyone who even looks your way and you should hate that but instead it has you clenching around his cock. He hisses and you moan, “I want to try it. I want to experience your lovers and you.” You moan, covering his hand on your breast with his.

Oberyn groans in your ear, loving that you will compromise with him. Not try to change him. “You won’t regret it, Dove.” He vows, his hips still slamming into your ass he fucks you. “Now, cum for me again.” He orders. “Cum for me and I’ll fill up your cunt with my seed and be satisfied.”

His words send you over the edge and you swear you black out as you clamp down on his cock and soak him. “Oh fuck!” You squeal, shaking in his arms as you fall apart pressed against his chest.

This time Oberyn lets himself follow you. Thrusting deep two more times, he buries his cock in your womb and starts to flood it with his seed. Groaning your name in your ear as he pumps you full. “Shiiiiit.”

You pant, squeezing your eyes shut as he works you through your orgasm and you whimper when his cock twitches inside you. “Shit.” You echo, closing your eyes as you relax against him. “Don’t push me away again. I don’t want to hate you.”

“I thought that was what you wanted.” Oberyn admits. “My brother is not happy that you and I have been living separate lives.” He admits, rolling you both to your side and lying down on your bed. “I had come to ask if you would have dinner with me.”

You sigh, shifting to curl into him. “I want to get to know you. We are in this situation for a reason and I want my mother to get better and to make this marriage work for us until it doesn’t. We have to at least try. There’s a reason why Doran chose me.”

“He said you would tame me.” He doesn’t mind this version of you, the one that isn’t spewing insults. His cock is still glistening with your juices and he knows you are dripping his cum onto the bed. Maybe he just needed to fuck you. “I don’t know why he would think that.” He snorts. “I nearly killed Dario. Still might.”

You tut, caressing his chest, “no. You don’t need to kill him. He was just trying his luck. Don’t let him get into your head. We need to stand solid side by side.” You declare and sigh, resting your head on his chest, “I just want my mom to have a chance.”

Oberyn sighs. “She has the best doctors in Dorne.” He reminds you softly. “Doran has asked for a few more to come from Winterfell and King’s Landing to make sure there is nothing else to be done.” Doran always kept his word and that meant your mother would receive the best possible care.

You hum, tears stinging in your eyes, and you swallow harshly. “I don’t want to lose her.” You choke, “she’s been all I have known. My father died when I was a baby.” You confess, “I’ll be alone if she dies.”

“You won’t be alone.” He reminds you. “You have a husband. My family became your family when we married.”

You sigh, pressing a kiss to his glistening golden skin, “thank you.” You murmur, knowing he means every word. He’s your husband and he will be there for you.

He lays there for another minute before he sighs. “I need to drag Dario out of your apartment.” He huffs, reminded of the fact the man is still unconscious on your kitchen floor. “Have the cleaners come in and clean up the blood.”

You snort and shake your head, “he needs a doctor.” You tell him but he ignores you in favor of sliding out of bed and you watch his back muscles move as he heads into the bathroom. He comes back out with a wet rag to clean you up and you sigh, stretching out on the sheets.

Oberyn can be a selfish lover with some. The people who float in and out of his bed clean themselves up, but for Ellaria, for you, he will take care of your needs. You bite your lip as he carefully runs the rag over your folds and he snorts in amusement. “I just watched your asshole pulse while I fucked you.” He reminds you. “There isn’t a part of your body that does not please me.”

You chuckle and stretch out with a groan, “that’s good to know because I have never felt this good before.” You confess, “holy shit, Oberyn. I can’t - wow.” You’re a little speechless as you snuggle into your pillow.

He hums, happy that you are pleased with how he fucked you. It’s important to him that no one leaves his bed unsatisfied, but especially the woman who is his wife. Now not just in name.

**** 

Tears sting in your eyes as you watch your mom struggle to breathe. She’s gotten worse and it’s only taken days for her to be bedridden and unable to breathe properly. The treatments aren’t working and you try your best to offer her a smile but your heart is breaking. She’s dying and there’s nothing more you can do.

The door opens and Oberyn comes into the room, pausing when he sees you in the chair and clutching your mother’s hand. The prognosis isn’t good and he had just come from talking with the doctor before coming to visit with the older woman. “Dove.” He murmurs softly before he walks over to your mother and kisses her papery thin cheek. Her skin has taken on a waxy appearance and feel, the underlying smell of death clinging to her. It won’t be long now. He says your mother’s name and gives her his most charming smile. “You are as beautiful as the day you came to work for us.” He praises, kneeling down on the other side of the bed. “You will be pain free in no time.”

Your mother offers him a weak smile, her hand shaking as she lifts it to cup his cheek. “Look after her. She deserves love and to be happy.” She tells Oberyn and you bite your lip to stop the tears from sliding down your cheeks.

“Don’t worry, my desert rose.” Oberyn covers her hand with his own, pressing it against his cheek. “Your daughter will be well taken care of.” He promises. “She will have joy and love. She will know happiness and that you watch her from your perch with the Gods proudly.”

You feel the sob work its way up your throat and swallow harshly, walking over to Oberyn to rub his back in silent thanks for him reassuring your mother in her final time. You lean down beside him, looking at your mom.” “We will be happy.” You promise, “Oberyn has been incredible.” You assure her, “he will look after me.” Your mom nods, her eyes getting heavy and you bite your lip to stop your sob.

Oberyn holds her hand with his, feeling her body relax and there is one surprisingly strong inhale that rattles through her frail body. The exhale doesn’t come, making Oberyn sigh as he knows that your mother has gone to be with the gods and you will be inconsolable.

You stare at her for several moments, your hand reaching out and that’s when you realize she’s gone. You sob and lean in to kiss her cheek, silently saying goodbye to her and you close your eyes, trying to not break down.

Pushing to his feet, Oberyn places your mother’s hand on her chest and steps back to let you grieve how you need to. “Her pain is gone, Dove.” He murmurs softly. He won’t leave you, knowing what you are going through. After you have your moment with her, he will arrange for your mother’s body to be treated with the utmost care.

You nod, lip quivering, and tears stream down your cheeks as you watch him treat your mom with so much care. “I can’t - I need you to - to help me plan everything.” You request and he nods, “of course I will.” He promises, leaning in to kiss your hair. You know he will, he promised your mom to look after you.

“She was a good woman.” He tells you quietly. “I would come sit with her, every afternoon, after lunch.” He had never told you that. Or that he had asked her not to tell you. After the arrangement had been made, and she had started the treatments, he had made time no matter what else was going on. Even when you weren’t speaking with him.

Your eyes widen and you stare at him in shock. “You came - every day?” You ask and he nods. Your heart pounds in your chest and he reaches out to gently wipe the tears from your cheeks. You reach up to grip his wrist and he freezes, thinking you’re rejecting his touch. “Thank you.” You whisper, wrapping your arms around his waist after you let go of his wrist.

“You don’t need to thank me.” He promises. “At first, I came to see if I could talk her into getting you to change your mind, but when I saw her doctor, I knew I could never do that.” He explains, not wanting you to think that he was totally honorable. “But then I kept coming back for her, for myself. She had always been there in Sunspear but I had never gotten to know her.” It’s a regret he will carry, but he is happy for the time he has spent with her. “I see why you went to such lengths to save her.”

You are shocked to hear that he was visiting your mother. You never knew that and you swallow harshly, trying to stop the sob that’s working its way up your throat again. You bury your face in his chest and squeeze him, knowing that you want to make this marriage work. He’s your husband, your only family.

**** 

The funeral is a beautiful, somber affair. Oberyn had helped you through it all, guiding you through choosing a service and flowers, music and a dress for her to wear. He had insisted that she be buried in the Martell crypt, telling you that as his mother-in-law, she deserved to be there. Since it was housed in the basement of the building you lived in, you could visit anytime you wished. He had stood by your side, strong and comforting, opening up to you about his grief from losing his sister and how it had changed him.

After the funeral, you have grown closer to Oberyn and you are getting ready for dinner with him when it hits you. You love him. You have no idea when it happened because you didn’t want him, didn’t like him, but between the drama between you and the way he’s supported you during your mother’s death, you have fallen for the Red Viper. You stare at yourself in shock and Oberyn walks into your now shared bedroom with the towel around his waist, chest glistening from his shower. “I love you.” You blurt out, unable to stop yourself.

Oberyn stops, turning towards you with his brow dipping into a furrowed line. “You shouldn’t, Dove.” He tells you quietly. “I’m not a good man, a man who is content to live a quiet and simple life.” You know he still sleeps with others. Not just Ellaria. He comes back to you most nights, especially since your mother’s death, but it’s no secret that he isn’t giving up his ways. You look so crestfallen that he sighs, his hands dropping to his sides. “You know I care about you?” He asks. “Right? That you will be safe and find pleasure and comfort with me? That I will make sure you are happy?”

His answer shouldn’t surprise you. He’s made it perfectly clear that he doesn’t do commitment and love. You’d accepted that he shares his bed with others and you haven’t been in a mindset to think about trying that with him. “I do.” You promise, looking back at yourself in the mirror. “I just wanted you to know how I feel. Even if you don’t feel the same.” You assure him and he nods, stripping off his towel and you can’t help but admire his body in your reflection. “Oberyn?” You ask and he looks at you, “yes, Dove?” You bite your lip, “I want to share our bed with Ellaria and another. I want to experience more.” You announce, slightly nervous.

He’s surprised and cautious about your wants. “Are you sure?” He doesn’t care about his nudity as he strides towards you, picking up the bottle of wine that has been left by the maid and drinks straight from the neck. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to.” He reaches out and caresses your cheek. “You don’t have to change for me.”

You nod, “I’m not changing because of you. I want to try it. If I don’t like it, I’ll say so. I want to experience something different. Can you help me do that?” You ask and he nods, a smirk on his face as he brushes your cheekbone with his thumb. “It would be my pleasure.” You smirk, turning your head to kiss his palm, “our pleasure.” Oberyn chuckles and leans down to kiss you, the taste of the wine on his tongue has you moaning and he pulls back to say “fuck dinner. I want you.” You moan into the kiss and let him drag you to the bed. He tells you everything he wants to watch you do, growled in your ear while he fucks you from behind. Your dinner reservation ignored.

After you are sprawled on the bed, dripping his cum, Oberyn caresses your hip and chuckles. “Do I call Ellaria and her lover into our bed now, or would you prefer tomorrow?” He slaps a cheek of your ass playfully. “Did I wear you out?”

You chuckle, “you have enough energy for them to come over now, husband? Or are you too old to continue fucking through the night?” You tease, eyebrows raised as you look up at him from where you are laying on the bed.

He rolls his eyes slightly and sighs. “Too old?” He snorts. “You weren’t calling me too old when you were screaming my name in pleasure while you soaked my cock.”

You chuckle at his offense and you shift to curl into his chest, “call them now. I’ll clean up and we can host Ellaria and her lover. I want to experience them.” You caress Oberyn’s sternum as you look at him.

He chuckles and reaches for his phone that is lying on the bedside table. Opening it up, he selects a number from his contacts and hits call. His fingers caress your back as the phone rings and he smiles when the sultry voice of his lover is heard. “Darling.” He coos. “Are you entertaining a woman tonight, or do you have that lover who has such an impressive cock of his own?” He asks, as easily as he would ask about a dinner date.

You listen to him on the phone, lounging on the bed as he speaks to Ellaria. “The lover with the impressive cock.” Ellaria coos her answer and you smirk, “come over.” You say since he has it on speaker and Ellaria is surprised when she speaks your name. “I want to experience you and your lover with my husband.” You declare, wanting to let her know your intentions.

Ellaria hums, wondering if Oberyn has convinced you to try this, although she knows he is not one to force matters. “We will be down shortly.” The floor where his lover and his children live is above yours, he had never wanted to be too far from the Sand Snakes. Chuckling, he ends the call and smirks at you. “Will you entertain with my cum dripping from your cunt or will you clean up?” He asks. “I think I might wear your juices on my cock.”

You smirk, shifting to kneel on the bed, and you reach for him to wrap your arms around his neck. “Do you think Ellaria will wish to lick your cum from my pussy?” You hum, leaning in to kiss his jaw, “or will she want me to be clean?”

Oberyn hums, turning his head to press his lips to yours. “She knows the taste of my cum well.” He chuckles. “I know she would love to see how we taste together.”

You hum against his lips, caressing his chest, and you moan against his lips when his tongue slides into your mouth. Neither of you hear the door open but you hear Ellaria when she says “ah, what a gorgeous sight, lover.”

He smiles against your lips, his flaccid cock twitching as he thinks about what is to come. You have never had multiple partners, so it will be a treat to see if you like that.

You smirk, turning your head to look at Ellaria and gesture for her to join. “Come here.” You coo and wave her over with her lover. Ellaria kneels on the bed and you reach for her, pressing your lips to hers, your hand curling around her neck.

Oberyn groans at the beautiful sight and he feels Omar’s hand on his shoulder. Turning and pressing his lips to the other man’s easily. He has had him before and he knows you will be pleased with his cock if you take it tonight.

You moan when you pull your lips from Ellaria so you can watch Oberyn kiss the other man. His hand cupping his cheek and your stomach twists in arousal at the sight. You moan softly and watch him kiss another man. “It’s a gorgeous sight, isn’t it?” Ellaria coos in your ear and she caresses your back until she’s squeezing your ass. You nod, turning your head to press your lips back to hers, your tongue sliding against hers while you reach up to cup her breast.

Pleasure is all Oberyn ever strives for in a sexual encounter. He wants everyone to enjoy themselves. Most of all him, but right now, this is also more about you than him. To see if you are willing to slot yourself into this part of his world, to open up to the comfort that can be found in others arms and not let jealousy come between you. He breaks away from Omar’s kiss. “Ellaria.” He rasps out. “She wants you to lick my cum from her pretty little cunt.” He informs his lover.

Ellaria moans, kissing along your jaw, “you want me to lick your pussy, beautiful girl?” She coos and you nod, falling under her spell as her dark eyes burn into yours. She guides you to lay down on the bed and spreads your legs, admiring the creamy mess between your thighs, and your chest heaves in anticipation as she shifts to law down between your legs.

Omar’s hand wraps around Oberyn’s cock and he groans, making you look over at him. He flashes you a smirk and nods towards Ellaria. “She will eat your cunt while her lover sucks my cock.”

You gasp when Ellaria’s tongue slides through your folds, her moan vibrating through you and you watch Omar shift onto his knees, his hand squeezing Oberyn’s cock as he leans closer to take him into his mouth, making your husband groan. The sight has your stomach clenching and your pussy pulse against Ellaria’s tongue. “Shit.” You choke, reaching down to tangle your fingers in her hair.

Oberyn hums in pleasure and his hand cups the back of Omar’s head as he eagerly swallows down his cock. “You are a pretty sight.” He praises breathless, both to you and Ellaria and the man who is pleasuring him. “How does it feel, Dove? Knowing that a woman's tongue can know your body so well?”

You whine, tilting your head back against the mattress as Ellaria strokes your thighs, pushing them further apart. “You taste so good.” She coos and slides her tongue through your folds until she sucks your clit. You cry out and moan, back arching as you watch Oberyn take his pleasure, rocking his hips into Omar’s mouth.

Oberyn’s head tilts back, groaning loudly as he experiences the talented mouth of the other man. Only opening his eyes again so he can watch you rock your hips down onto Ellaria’s face. “You look so good like that.” He pants. “Spread out and indulgent. Both of you are so eager for more.”

Ellaria hums against your folds, moaning when you tug on her hair. She sucks on your clit a little harder and you whine, bucking your hips up into her face. She flings her arm over your stomach and Oberyn groans as he watches you. Your eyes meet his and you whimper, “so good.”

He caresses Omar’s cheek and feels where his cock makes the man’s throat bulge. “Make her cum, El.” He pants out, knowing how talented that tongue is. “Make her cum so she can taste your gorgeous cunt.”

His words send you over the edge and you cry out, thighs pressing against her head as you cum against her tongue. She moans and laps at your folds, wanting every drop, and you shake while you moan her name, your eyes closing while Oberyn watches you.

Tapping the other man’s chin, Oberyn pulls his hips back. His cock sliding out of the hot mouth that it had been buried in and he leans over to drag Ellaria up to taste you from her lips with a groan.

You watch Oberyn kiss Ellaria and you reach for Omar, pulling him close to kiss him. His hands grab your waist and he pulls you close while Ellaria and Oberyn kiss. It’s so erotic, your cunt drips despite you just orgasming from Ellaria’s tongue.

The kiss between lovers is long, easily something that could last all day. But Oberyn and Ellaria both are eager to witness the passion you share with the other man. Turning and moaning as the sight as your hand wraps around the thick cock attached to Omar’s magnificent form. “Lover, perhaps Omar should fuck her while she licks my cunt?” Ellaria moans. “I doubt you will object to filling his ass with your cock.”

Oberyn smirks, “you won’t catch me arguing about that, lover.” He coos and he reaches for you, “you want to have his cock, my wife?” He asks and you nod, “yes.” You’re breathless and you want to sample Ellaria. He chuckles and reaches out to squeeze your ass, “your wish is our command.” He winks and Ellaria shifts to lay down. You kneel on your hands and lean in to slide your tongue along Ellaria’s thigh.

Ellaria moans your name, her eyes sliding closed and there is a very pleased smirk on her face. As if this is the outcome she had been anticipating. “Gorgeous.” Oberyn coos as Omar pumps his cock and shuffles behind you. “Fill my wife with your cock and I’ll prep you to take mine.” He grunts. “She will experience the force of both of our thrusts.”

When Omar starts to enter you, you whimper against Ellaria’s skin. He’s thicker than Oberyn but not as long. You pant as he pushes into you and you let yourself stretch around him while caressing Ellaria’s thighs. When he’s fully inside you, you timidly lean down towards Ellaria’s pussy. “I, uh, haven’t done this before.” You confess and Ellaria smirks, “just do to me what you love to have done to yourself.” She instructs and you nod, leaning in to slide your tongue through her folds.

Oberyn shuffles off the bed, watching you take the other man’s cock from a different angle while he gets a bottle of lube. The sight of your tongue timidly sliding through Ellaria’s cunt is intoxicating. He grabs the bottle from the drawer and leans down, pushing his head beside yours and letting his tongue flutter alongside yours.

His tongue tangling with yours has you moaning and Ellaria pants, her fingers tangling in his hair and her hand on your neck. “Fuck.” She curses and you moan, lapping at her clit with Oberyn until he pulls away, kissing you on the cheek.

“You look so pretty like this, Dove.” Oberyn coos as he slides back behind Omar and opens the tube to squeeze some lube on his fingers. “Ellaria likes your tongue.”

Omar groans when Oberyn presses his slicked up digits against his ass and your husband chuckles at his pleasured groan when he’s not even got started yet. You lap at Ellaria’s folds, sliding down to push your tongue into her and Omar slowly rocks into you, taking one of Oberyn’s fingers inside.

Despite having fucked Omar before, Oberyn takes his time to work him open. Knowing that he needs to be stretched so he doesn’t tear. His ass is tight and he groans when the muscles clench down around his finger. Pulling back and adding more lube before working a second finger inside him. “That’s it, lover. Open up for me and you will have my cock buried in your ass soon. You’ll like that, impaled on my cock while fucking my wife. You’ll be in heaven.”

Omar moans, dropping his head as he tries to stay still. You whine against Ellaria’s folds, wanting more but he doesn’t move until Oberyn has stretched him out. You slide your tongue up to suck on Ellaria’s clit and she watches Oberyn move to lube up his cock, spreading more lube on Omar’s ass as he kneels behind him.

“Fuck.” Oberyn groans, pressing the head of his cock against the grasping ring of muscles and starts to breach the man. Sliding his hips forward until the head is inside and he hisses, sliding his hand down Omar’s back. “Start moving.” He orders the other man. “Fuck yourself back onto my cock as you fuck my Dove.”

Just his words are enough for Omar to twitch inside you but he nods, gripping your hips as he starts to move. You whine in delight, the vibrations making Ellaria moan in pleasure as you lap at her clit. It doesn’t take long for you all to have a rhythm established and you are moaning at the way Omar pushes into you.

Once Oberyn feels the way Omar is pushing back against his cock, he knows he can ramp up the pace. The man is begging for him to hammer into his pretty little ass and wreck him from the way he is squeezing his cock like a vice. Gritting his teeth, Oberyn digs his fingers into Omar’s hips and snaps his own forward harshly, making the other man cry out in pleasure as he strikes against his prostate.

Omar is pushed into you by Oberyn and in turn, you moan into Ellaria’s cunt, making her whine. The motion back and forth continues, building up as the four of you seek pleasure and pleasure from one another. It’s intoxicating and you can understand why Oberyn loves it so much.

Leaning over Omar’s shoulder to watch you and Ellaria. Loving how eagerly you are devouring his lover’s cunt. As you hear her moans, it spurs you on, wanting to hear more from her. Ellaria paws at her breasts and tugs on your hair as she rocks her hips down, greedy for your tongue. “That’s it, Dove. Devour her. Make her cum on your tongue and then that thick cock will fill your cunt. After you cream all over him.”

Oberyn’s words make you clench around Omar who hisses and bucks into you a little harder. You slide your tongue into Ellaria and you barely need to move your head, pushed into your pussy by the two men behind you.

Oberyn chuckles, continuing his harsh pace as he spears into the other man. “That’s right, fuck. All of us are going to cum. Every one of us. Ellaria is loving that tongue in her cunt, aren’t you?” He growls.

Ellaria moans and nods, tangling her fingers in your hair to push you even further into her cunt. You lap at her clit and she meets Oberyn’s eyes. “Your wife is not as innocent as she seems. She’s going to make me cum.” She confesses breathlessly and Omar feels you clench around his cock.

Oberyn’s filthy chuckle is low, heated. “Good girl, Dove.” He praises. “Make her cum. Show her how filthy you can be. Cum on Omar’s cock. Fuck, you fit in so well. We will all fuck you until you are covered in cum. Until you are full.” He rambles as he plows into Omar, so incredibly turned on by how erotic his once prudish seeming wife is being right now. “Fuuuuuck.”

Oberyn’s words have your cunt fluttering around Omar’s cock but you want Ellaria to cum first. You suck on her clit and snake your hand along her thigh until you are pushing two digits into her weeping pussy. She cries out and you moan victoriously when she clamps down on your fingers and her back arches.

Ellaria cumming is always a beautiful sight. The gorgeous woman is enthralling when she shakes in pleasure and it’s made even more intoxicating by the knowledge that you made her cum. His wife devours her cunt like you are born to do it and makes his lover cry out in bliss, making him think that this could be a regular occurrence.

You work her through it, making you moan into her folds until she’s pushing your head away. You whine but Omar’s hands grab your tits, squeezing them, and you are sent closer to your orgasm. His hips hit your ass and you whimper when he gets the angle just right. “That’s it baby. Cum for us.” Ellaria coos, watching your face.

Oberyn can tell from the way your breaths are catching in your chest that you are about to cum. You must be squeezing Omar’s cock because the other man’s ring of muscles is pulsing around his cock. “She’s close.” He bites out.

Your hands grip Ellaria’s as she coos to you, “cum for us, lover.” You whine, squeezing your eyes shut, and you gasp when you feel Oberyn’s fingers rubbing your clit. You are pushed over the edge and moan your husband’s name as you fall apart on another man’s cock.

Oberyn twitching inside you, the pressure against Omar’s prostate makes the other man cry out. His hips lurch forward and he starts to throb. Painting your walls with ropes of sticky cum while his puckered hole spasms around your husband’s cock.

You pant, collapsing forward and Omar follows you, Oberyn shifting his knees to follow and you moan when his hand squeezes your hip while he fucks Omar harder, making the man inside you twitch despite his softening cock. “Fuck. Cum for me, baby.” You demand and Ellaria smirks, “cum for your wife, lover.”

You are pressed under the weight of the other man and Oberyn doesn’t hold back. Pounding into Omar to make the man wail in pleasure as his orgasm is pushed past the point of overwhelming. Hisses out your name as he drives into the tight hole again and again. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He roars, pushing deep and flooding the man’s ass with his cum. Panting as he works himself through the intense pleasure.

You sigh, Ellaria stroking your hair as you relax under the weight of the men. It’s blissful and something you never imagined before. Omar pulls out of you as he’s soft and you shuffle up to lay beside Ellaria, turning your head to capture her lips while you spread your legs to show your husband the other man’s cum inside of you.

“Fuck.” Even though he hasn’t caught his breath, after pulling out of Omar, Oberyn ducks his head down and swipes his tongue through your cum covered folds to taste you and the other man’s combined juices.

“Fuck.” You pant, throwing your head back, and Ellaria chuckles, turning her head to pull Oberyn up so she can kiss him, wanting to sample the combination herself.

Oberyn lands next to Ellaria, tangling his tongue with hers easily and chuckling when she moans. Knowing that the other woman has become intoxicated by the taste as he has. Pulling away from his lips is a struggle but he reaches for you as well to kiss you softly, his other arm reaching for Omar to pull him closer as well. “Fuck.” He murmurs against your lips. “How do you like my way?” He asks.

You chuckle, reaching out to caress his cheek, “I love it.” You confess, “I want to do this again.” You admit and he smirks, knowing he wants to do this with you too but also keep you to himself sometimes. You know he’s going to be difficult to tame but you don’t want him to be anyone but himself, even if you were bought and paid to marry him for your mother’s sake.

[psychedelic-ink]

ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓, 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒

ㅤㅤmodern!oberyn martell x f!reader

genre: smut, minors dni, modern au

word count: 2k

summary: when you accidentally blurt out one of the fantasies that you kept locked up in your head, oberyn is more than eager to oblige to your request.

warnings: piv, anal sex, first time anal, rimming, fingering, lots of lube and praise

a/n: we did a secret santa for our server space sisters and my giftee was @iamasaddie! Happy holidays love! I hope you enjoy this little smutty fic, I definitely enjoyed writing it 🎄🎄🎄

can you guys believe i couldn't find one decent image of a peach being fingered???? a shame really

**stunning divider by the amazing @saradika <333

Everything about Oberyn drives you crazy. 

The way he dresses, the way he smells, the melodic lilt of his voice—every part of him you adore and cherish. You’re undeniably lucky to have this man in your life and not only that but to have him as a partner is something you’re in awe of every single day. He satisfies you like no man ever could. He gives you every bit of himself. His tongue, his fingers. . . it’s almost as if the man was solely created to bring pleasure to you. 

But, despite all of that, you’re still not as open as you wish to be. You can never be as blunt with him as he is with you. He needs to drag your desires out of you. Tease you until you snap and practically shout at him to make you come. Oberyn doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he’d said on multiple occasions how much he enjoyed it. 

“Look at you so wet around my cock,” he purrs, the back of his tongue hitting the roof of his mouth roughly on the word cock. Oberyn’s right. You are wet. Soaked even. Every time he rocks you forward you feel the wet fabric of the bedding scraping your outer knee. You moan loudly into the pillows, fluttering around him as he fucks, fucks, and fucks himself deeper into you. 

You’re not sure where you end and he begins. Sex with him is always like this. Mind numbingly beautiful. Satisfying. You feel the warmth of the Christmas lights framing your window kissing your sweaty skin. Your clit throbs. You don’t think you can hold on much longer. 

But just as you’re nearing the edge, Oberyn’s thumb traces the tight rim of your other hole. He slowly pushes in, only a bit, the stretch adds enough pressure for another moan to come tumbling out your lips, your upper body fully falling. Oberyn hums, his hips slowing into a sensual grind. “Does my sweet girl want me to fuck this hole next?” This is something that he teases you about more often than not. He’s never acted on it though. “So fucking tight.” 

He pushes his thumb till the first knuckle and it’s like electricity shooting down your spine. Your entire body jolts, the words leaving your throat before you even realize what you’re saying. 

“Yes,” you breathe. “Yes yes yes—please fuck me there—” 

Oberyn stops. 

So does your heart. 

Fuck fuck fuck. That was meant to be a secret. 

“What did you just say?” 

“Nothing!” you answer quickly and high-pitched. “I—I didn’t mean anything by it.” 

Oberyn dips until his lean chest is firmly pressed against the curve of your spine. His lips touch your ear, his breath warm and inviting. The hand that was teasing your hole slips to the side to cup your ass. He kneads the muscle tenderly. 

“Are you sure?” he hums. “Why would you hide this from me?”  

“I. . . wasn’t. . .” 

“Ah, so you admit it is something that you want.” 

You let out an airy chuckle, “I hate when you do that.” 

“Do what?” 

“Just trick me into admitting things.” 

“I just asked a question,” he says innocently. It’s a bit hard to focus on his words when he’s cock deep inside of you. “Now, tell me why this is the first time I’m hearing about this.” 

Oberyn drags his lips down to the base of your neck and kisses you, your body melting into the sheets instantly. You’re glad he can’t see your face right now. You don’t think you can admit this while those observant eyes are looking down at you. 

“I’ve never tried it before. And. . . I was nervous to ask about it,” you take a sharp inhale. “I did want to tell you. I just—You’re already so much better at this than I am, I didn’t want to look even more inexperienced.” 

Before you know it Obeyn has you by the shoulders, twisting your body enough so that you’re facing him instead of keeping your head buried in the pillows. You chew on the inside of your cheek. He looks serious. Did you say something wrong? 

“Better at what?” he asks even though he knows the answer. 

“At sex.” 

“Sex is not a competition, and for what it’s worth you are good at it. And I love being your first when it comes to intimacy. You have nothing to be ashamed of,” he starts moving again, the heavy drag of his cock between your legs making your eyes roll. “But, if you are still feeling anxious let me prove to you how much I love being your first—and last.” 

Your lips curl into a small smile, “Last?” 

His smile is sinister. Teeth showing as he dips to your neck, taking a slow, yet sharp, bite. A whimper rattles your throat. “Is it wrong for me to want to humor the idea that I’ll be fucking you somewhere no one has before and that no one else will ever touch you beside me?” Oberyn pulls out, your body immediately aching to be filled again. “Get on all fours.” 

You oblige eagerly. Your arms are shaking as you prop yourself up, the inside of your thighs slick. Oberyn reaches for the nightstand and pulls out the bottle of lube. When he disappears behind you again you expect the cool feel of jel, but instead, you receive his mouth—and tongue. 

“Oh fuck—” 

“Be still,” he growls, gripping your hips. “Let me feast.” 

He swirls his tongue around your asshole, hot saliva dripping right against it. You shudder as he pushes it through, teeth grazing the flesh gingerly. Oberyn parts your cheeks with both hands and pushes the wet muscle deeper. Pleasure rakes your body, your core throbbing with need. You’re close. Just a couple swipes of his tongue and you’re already there, ready to burst. 

He mouths against you and when he deems you wet enough, he slips a finger inside. Your body tenses around him, the sensation foreign but not unwanted. Oberyn’s one hand cups your sex, fingers starting to draw patterns around your throbbing clit while he thrusts the fingers in and out. Moan after moan rips from your throat. The stimulation against your clit loosens you further. He slips another finger. Both knuckle deep as he fucks you with them. 

“That’s it. You’re stunning like this. Beautiful.” 

You fist the sheets, hips sloppily grinding back to meet the fast movement of his fingers. “O–Oberyn please. . .” 

“Oh you think you’re ready?” he chuckles and for some reason, the sound urges a fresh gush of wetness to roll out of you. “Tell me how badly you want me to fuck this sweet ass and maybe. . .” he groans. “Maybe I’ll give you what you want.” 

Your breath catches in your throat, “Please fuck me with your big cock Oberyn—I need it—Need you—” 

He hums and something about the way he moves makes you think he’s not satisfied with your begging. And here you thought you’ve been doing a good job. He pulls away both hands and drags them up your back, cupping your shoulders. You’re in near tears when his cock spreads your folds and grazes against your clit. “You want me to fuck you here?” 

Oberyn’s a cruel, cruel man. 

“N—No,” you whimper, shaking your head. “Not. . . not there.” 

“Where then?” 

“My. . .” Damn it, your voice is trembling. “My ass.” 

You say it silently, barely above a whisper. He hisses through clenched teeth, pulls back his hips, and snaps forward, fucking your thighs instead of where you really need him. “Louder,” he commands. 

“Fuck me in the ass—” you practically shout. “Please please please fuck me in the ass—I want to feel you—Been wanting it for so long.” 

You sigh happily at the feeling of a generous amount of lube being poured down from the bottle and directly onto your hole. Oberyn pours some into his palm, jerking himself until he’s fully coated in lube. The bulbous head of his cock teases your hole, your back arches for him, urging him to go on. 

He fills you inch by glorious inch. The sounds he’s making behind you are downright sinful—your body reacts to his sweet moans, your name falling from his lips. You feel so full. Once again your upper body falls to the sheets, your poor arms too weak to support yourself any longer. Oberyn keeps your ass up in the air, still pushing his cock deeper. 

“So big,” you slur, your body feeling aflame. 

“Just a little more. You’re taking me so well, such a good girl.” 

Your body jerks as he buries himself a bit deeper, has he always been this thick? “Say that again. Tell me how good I am, please.” 

Oberyn blankets your shuddering body, holding himself still, he begins to whisper in your ear, “So good. You’re always my good girl, even when you do keep secrets from me. You’re the perfect glove for my cock. I am going to fuck you so good that your inside will be the shape of me.” 

Just as you get wetter and wetter at his words, Oberyn fills you to the brim. You choke around nothing, every nerve thrumming with pleasure. Your body squeezes him tight and when you finally loosen a bit, Oberyn groans. 

“Can I move?” 

“Please.” 

He squeezes your hips as he pulls out, the heavy press of his cock making you see stars. Then before you can gather yourself he’s pounding into you, stretching you to your limits. There’s a hum in your ears and vaguely you can hear him moaning your name. Your mouth floods with saliva, his teeth sinking into where your neck connects with your shoulder.  

Desperately you reach back and take a hold of his wrist. Your touch only spurs him on, hips deliciously moving in and out. The sound of skin slapping against skin becomes louder and louder. 

“Oh god,” you moan, your fingers tightening around his wrist. “I’m gonna come.”

“Can you come like this?” He asks genuinely. “With my cock in your ass?” 

You don’t think you can actually. Your close. So very close that you can taste your orgasm on your tongue, but you just need a bit more, just a little touch—

“Do not—“ Your hand stills, you weren’t even aware that you’d begun to move your arm to stroke your clit. “Tell me. Tell me why you want and I’ll give you fucking everything.”

“I—I need you to touch me.” 

Oberyn doesn’t make you say it twice. He’s stroking your clit with fast strokes, his hips in perfect rhythm with his thrusts. Hear licks you from the inside out and the pressure between your legs builds, builds and builds until you can’t take it anymore. 

It happens all at once, your body shatters into a million pieces as you shudder around him, his cock splitting you open over and over. Between your moans you can hear him groaning your name, telling you how good you are, how perfect. 

You feel the rush of wetness running down your thighs and Oberyn’s fingers that were so deftly circling your clit moves to your hip, squeezing the flesh. 

“That’s my sweet girl, coming so pretty with my cock in her ass—I’m going to come, fill you until you’re dripping—“ 

He doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. Your entire body clenches, hugging his cock tight. Oberyn comes with a shattered breath and shallow thrusts, he pushes forward, balls deep. Another orgasm washes over you, your body thrumming with pleasure.

“Fuck—“ he rasps, slowly easing himself out. A shiver crawls up your spine as come slips down between your cheeks and down your thighs. He kisses the skin between your shoulders. “You look so good like this. So full of come.” 

“Wish I could see,” you hum. 

“Next time I will bring a camera.” He collects himself on his fingers and slips them inside of you, a moan deserts your lips. “Or perhaps I should fuck you again.” 

There’s a beat of silence before he speaks again. 

“Do not ever hide anything from me again. Promise me.” 

“I promise.” 

[something-tofightfor]

Aphelion - 12

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Female Reader, Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand

*Please be sure to consider all chapter warnings before reading! Warnings will be updated for each chapter in individual posts as well as on the Masterlist.

Warnings: language, discussion of the past, mentions of violence, blood and death, mention of self-harm, NSFW, vampirism, biting. sex talk - Oberyn and Ellaria are together in this chapter, but it's offscreen.

Word Count: 14,251 (whoops.)

Summary: It's one night out - and you need it.

When Tyene and Toban take you out to give Oberyn and Ellaria the privacy they need, you're able to fill the night with something that you've been lacking for the previous weeks: non-vampire company.

While out, you spend some time talking with everyone, digging just a little deeper into how - and why - their family has lasted for so long.

Back at the apartment, the group springs something on you ... and you decide to take your chances and let Oberyn know exactly how it makes you feel.

A/N: First of all, we're very sorry that this has taken a literal year. Life happens, but we're back at it with our favorite Vampire Prince. We appreciate your patience, and we really and truly hope that this chapter is everything you've hoped for - there's not too much left to this story now, but I can tell you with certainty that this chapter contains the bulk of their last "relaxed" moments before shit hits the fan.

Thank you for reading. Happy Halloween (if you celebrate!) Questions or concerns? You know where to find us.

Catch up with the Aphelion masterlist here!

(banner by @valkblue )

You hadn’t stopped smiling since Toban handed you the phone and told you to invite a friend out for drinks. And once Nora showed up at the bar you suggested, you knew the smile wasn’t likely to fade any time soon. Oh, I really fucking needed this.  

The past two weeks had been surreal in every way. 

Just fourteen days earlier, you were at Golden Lion’s Halloween party, and the biggest shock had been the fact that Oscar - the alluring and attractive stranger you’d met in a chance encounter a few days prior - was also in attendance. 

Since then you’d watched that same attractive stranger wield what you thought had been a prop blade in an alley fight as he saved your life from a brutal attack while risking his own. You’d also learned that his name was not Oscar but Oberyn Martell - Prince of Dorne and one of the immortals known as Others that you always assumed were just the stuff of ancient folklore. 

All of that would have been enough to fill your Bingo card of things you never even dreamed were possible. But it was only the beginning. 

From the ease with which you’d accepted who and what he was, to the undeniable physical and emotional pull you felt toward him; from the paralyzing fear that filled your heart when you thought you might lose him, to the overwhelming urge to do everything in your power to help him not only survive but also conquer his enemies, you’d been on a non-stop adrenaline fueled rollercoaster. And it’s not over yet. 

Under normal circumstances, you never would have gone through so many life-changing events without opening up to Nora about it. The two of you rarely went more than a day without talking, even if it was just about the mundane details of your Thursday afternoon. The fact that you hadn’t been able to talk to her at all, let alone tell her about everything you’d been through, had made the stress of it all seem heavier. For obvious reasons you still couldn’t tell her most of what had happened since the last time you spoke, and you weren’t sure if that would ever change. 

But as she wrapped you in a tight hug and then slid into the seat across from you at one of the high-top tables, you realized that it didn’t matter. Not that night, anyway. That night, all that mattered was that for an hour or two, you got to have a normal night out with your friend.

As discussed with both Toban and Tyene prior to Nora’s arrival, you kicked off the conversation with your cover story for being MIA for the last two weeks.  You explained that immediately after the Golden Lion party, the company contracted you for another big project. This one, unlike the archival work they’d had you doing previously, dealt with much more sensitive information - and as a result, the confidentiality protocols were far more strict. 

“The two other people on the team both had to travel pretty far for this job. Golden Lion put us all up temporarily in a hotel downtown so we’d be able to work together and not have to commute anywhere.” You didn’t love lying to her, but it was more like a stretched version of the truth than an outright fabrication. Plus, you had previously worked on projects that required you to relocate for the duration, so you hoped that Nora would buy your explanation without too many follow up questions. “And in the chaos of packing and all that, I lost my phone and just got a new one today, so that’s why I haven’t called or texted or anything until tonight.” 

You were met with a smirk. “Yeah, that and the fact that you hooked up with rooftop bar guy. I’d lose track of my phone, too.” You rolled your eyes as she winked. “So is this him?” Nora asked, cocking her head in the direction of the bar, where Toban stood waiting for your drinks. What? Oh, she must have seen me talking to him when she got here. “The guy you absconded with after the Halloween party for… hmm, let’s call it a -” She held up her fingers to make air quotes. “A long weekend of do-not-interrupt style sex and- ” 

Your eyes went wide as you cut her off. “Oh my god, Nora, no.” In your peripheral view you could have sworn you caught Tyene barely conceal a snort from across the room. You knew without a doubt that Toban had also heard the assumption. But while he was likely to just brush it off and never bring it up again, you could already hear Tyene teasing you about it every chance she got. Oh well, nothing I can do about that now. 

You let out a small huff of laughter and shook your head. “Toban is one of the people on my team for the new project Golden Lion has me working on. We get along well, but… no. It wasn’t him.” 

She clicked her tongue. “Here I thought I was gonna get to meet the guy that charmed you out of that costume you spent days making. What’s his name? You never told me. And where’s he tonight?” 

Oh, he’s busy fucking the side effects of an ancient immortal’s powerful blood out of his system so that he can focus on finishing a two thousand year old revenge plot. You cleared your throat. “His name is Oscar, and he already had plans for tonight.” Circling your wrist, you went on. “Some kind of family obligation I think.” 

Nora gave you a small frown. “Well that’s a bummer. But-” Her frown curved upwards, morphing into a smirk. “Since he’s not here, that means you can tell me everything. So spill.” 

You laughed, one hand coming up to cover your eyes as you shook your head. Oh, Nora, even if I could tell you everything, I’m not sure you’d believe me. Dropping your hand back to the table, you looked up at her wearing a small smirk of your own. “Okay, well, I’m not gonna tell you everything, because…” You trailed off and rolled your eyes at the ceiling. “Some things need to stay between me, Oscar and the walls, if you catch my drift.” Like the fact that I kept him alive by letting him drink my blood, or that he gave me a mark of protection that he hasn’t given anyone else in hundreds of years. 

Nora scoffed. “Fine. I’ll settle for whatever you can tell me. Like… What’s he look like? What does he do for a living? And, the most important detail -” She held up one finger and tilted her head, fixing you with a serious stare. “What’s it like to kiss him?” 

At her third question you felt your cheeks flood with warmth. Pretty sure he invented good kissing. Letting out a breathy laugh, you answered her in order. “Well, he’s so goddamn handsome that he literally called me out for staring at him when we met.” Nora snorted as you went on. “He’s got gorgeous brown eyes and an incredible smile. Dark hair, tall, strong - like, really strong.” Immortally, supernaturally strong. “He dresses really well, too. Like, he looks just as good wearing clothes as he does out of them.” Tyene is never going to let me live that one down but I don’t care. 

“Hot.” Nora’s smile widened. That doesn’t even come close to describing it.

You laughed and addressed her next question, telling her that Oscar was an art and antiquities dealer, and that he was at the party because he was doing business with Golden Lion. That was a fabrication, again one that you decided on beforehand. But it also had some anchor in the truth - between his pendant, the spear, and - you were positive - countless other items of priceless value that he likely owned and had stashed away in places around the world, he could at the very least be deemed a collector. And he definitely has business with the Lannisters, so… 

Luckily, Nora didn’t press you for more on his occupation. “Nice. So he’s hot, cultured, smart and has good taste.” She ticked those qualities off on her fingers and you nodded along with each of them. “Now what about the smooching?” 

You took a big breath, your tongue poking into your cheek as you tried and failed to contain your smile. Letting out a sigh, you looked your friend square in the eye. “Dizzyingly good. It’s hard to stop, honestly.” 

“Ah!” Nora drummed her fingers against the tabletop. “Good for you! So is this like, a thing?” She flattened her forearms in front of herself and leaned over them. “Are you guys like, seeing each other?” 

One hand came up to the side of your neck, your fingertips instinctively finding the place where you wore Oberyn’s mark on your skin. You thought about what he’d told you about why he’d stopped offering his protection, even to those he cared deeply for - and about what it meant that none of that mattered to him when he marked you. Toban’s words from the rooftop echoed through your mind - “I am glad that it will not be the same with you.” - as though he knew without a shadow of a doubt that Oberyn intended to offer you more than just his protection. 

Your chest swelled as you recalled what Oberyn had said regarding finally finding someone to make that offer to  - “I will be the luckiest man on this planet if they say yes.” Throat going dry, you heard your own voice as you almost uttered the words “I love you” to him as you were falling asleep. 

If all of that didn’t qualify as a thing, you weren’t sure what did. 

“We, um…” You swallowed, dropping your hand down to the table and letting out a nervous laugh. “I think so, Nora.” Nodding, you bit your bottom lip and shrugged. “We’re not… we haven’t really talked much about the future or anything.” Your head shook from side to side. “We’re just seeing how things go for now though.” 

That was true. 

As much as you wanted to believe that you would be in Oberyn’s plans - and in his life - after things with the Lannisters had been settled, you needed to make it to the after, first. As much as you wanted to let yourself imagine what being with him without a constant threat hanging over your heads might look like, you needed to get out from under it before anything you imagined could become possible. 

Nora reached across the table and placed her hand on your wrist, one eyebrow arched high. “But you like him?” 

At that, you couldn’t help the amused sound you made as you blew out a burst of air. “God, yeah.” You rolled your eyes at the way heat bloomed in your cheeks and in the center of your chest at the admission. “Yeah, I like him. A lot.”

“I can tell.” She beamed at you, gently shaking your arm. “This is as over the fucking moon as I’ve ever seen you, and it sounds like this Oscar feels the same.” Releasing her grip, she drew her hand back, resting that elbow on the tabletop and her chin in her palm. “I’m happy you’re happy, even if it’s new.” She wrinkled her nose. “Just be careful and all that shit I’m legally obligated to say as your friend.” 

You laughed again. “I will,” you assured her. In more ways than you mean, I will. “I promise.” 

She nodded once. “Well, if this does turn out to be a thing, I hope I get to meet him next time.” 

I want that to happen. So much. “If it does,” you winked, giving her a small grin. “You will.” 

“Good.” She narrowed her eyes before letting them dart over to the bar, catching on Toban again as he and Tyene started heading back your way, drinks in hand. You had to stop yourself from laughing as her expression turned almost comically wistful. ���So, quick question. Do you know if tall, chiseled and handsome over there is fair game? Because…” She widened her eyes, nodding as she spoke out of the corner of her mouth. “Definitely would hit.” 

At that you snorted. Partially because you’d had a sneaking suspicion that Nora would be attracted to Toban, but also because you knew that he had just heard her comment even though she thought she was being covert. You had no idea if Toban enjoyed the company of humans the same way that Oberyn did, or if he would even entertain Nora’s flirting. But what could it hurt? “Yeah,” you let out a huff of laughter. “Go for it.” 

“Go for what?” Toban asked, a grin tinting his voice and lighting up his green eyes. He set a beer down in front of Nora before taking a seat next to her. “Drinks? We already have those.” 

You pressed your lips together as you watched Nora try to look less flustered than the man’s proximity to her was causing her to be. “Yes we do, thanks to you.” She beamed at him, one hand wrapping around her pint glass. 

Beside you, Tyene plopped into her seat and slid you one of the two drinks she carried, shooting you an amused sideways glance and raising her eyebrows. Yeah, I know. You shrugged as Nora continued answering Toban’s question. 

“No, um, we-” She motioned with her pointer finger between the two of you. “We were talking about a work thing. I was asking her if I should…” Laughing at herself, she shook her head. “Nevermind that, though, we’re here to have fun.” 

“We are.” Tyene spoke up, lifting her glass. “Cheers to that.” 

For the next hour or so that was exactly what you did. 

Conversation flowed easily between the four of you, Tyene and Toban joking and engaging with Nora like they’d known her as long as you had. At one point she mentioned an upcoming trip to Lisbon for her cousin’s wedding, and Toban, laying his wide palm over her forearm and causing her eyes to dart excitedly to yours before snapping back to his, offered enthusiastic recommendations of some of his favorite places in the city. You snorted into a sip of beer at just how raptly she listened, the woman propping her elbow on the table and leaning her chin into her hand. Subtle.

When you finished the first round, Nora excused herself to the ladies’ room, Tyene popping up to tag along so she could touch up her makeup while you and Toban grabbed refills. 

“Nora seems like she’s having a good time.” He leaned against the bar rail and faced you with a smile. “I hope you are, too.” 

You grinned at him as you stepped up to the bar and waved down the bartender. “I am.” You closed your eyes, letting out a sigh. “I really am.” Opening your eyes again, you gently knocked his elbow with yours. “Thank you for this.” 

“My pleasure,” he responded with a quick wink before turning to place the drink order with the man who had just appeared in front of you. “We’ll take four more of the same, and you can put it on my tab. Thanks.” The bartender nodded and headed for the taps, Toban returning his attention to you. “I do have something to ask you, though.” 

You tilted your head, eyebrows drawn together. “What’s up?” You stood up straight and crossed your arms over your chest. Is something wrong? “Is everything okay?” 

“Everything is fine, I promise. If there was a problem, we’d already be gone. ” He placed his hand on your shoulder and you instantly relaxed, dropping your arms again. Damn, that’s useful. “I just still have to take care of finding someone to -” 

“Oh!” Your eyebrows flew up as you realized what he was getting at. He still needs to feed. “Toban, if you need to drink I’ll let you -” 

He shook his head then, cutting you off. “That’s not what I was going to ask you.” He gave you a grateful smile. “Thank you, I appreciate the offer, but you wear Oberyn’s mark.” Your eyes widened. Oh, shit, is that some kind of etiquette thing that I just fucked up? “And while I’m sure he would not be upset, that is a line I won’t cross for my own reasons.” I … don’t know what that means, but now I want to. 

You swallowed. “Okay. So what um -” The bartender showed up then, dropping off two of the four drinks you were waiting on. “Thanks,” you accepted the glasses and waited for him to step away to grab the others before finishing your question. “What did you need to ask me then?” 

Toban shot a glance in the direction that Tyene and Nora would be returning from, then settled his eyes on yours. “I was wondering if you would be okay with me drinking from Nora.” 

The shock you felt registered as a quick outburst of laughter. “What?” You blinked at him, your expression still halfway between amusement and confusion. “You’re asking me permission to…” You trailed off as the bartender set down the other two drinks. 

“Thank you,” Toban nodded to the man. “You can keep it open for now.” Once he’d walked away to take care of other patrons, Toban resumed the conversation the two of you were having. “I’m asking if you would be okay with it, or if you would rather I found someone else. But if I do that, I should start looking soon because we’re probably going to be ready to head back in another hour, give or take.” 

Even though you didn’t want to rush the night, a jolt of excitement passed through you at the prospect of getting back to Oberyn. Ugh, Nora was right, I really am over the moon. But as difficult a task as it was, you set aside your eagerness to be back in his arms and focused on Toban’s question. Because it’s important. We didn’t just come out tonight to socialize, he needs to be ready for… for what’s coming, and that means he needs to drink. 

Clearing your throat, you considered what he’d asked you. “I…” Honestly, I feel like if I say no and Nora found out, she’d be mad at me, so…  You shrugged. “I know you won’t hurt her, so I don’t see why not.” 

Toban locked his eyes with yours. “I won’t hurt her, you have my word on that.”

You nodded. “I trust you, Toban. If it feels right between you … I won’t think it’s weird or anything.” 

He grinned. “Thank you.” Wrapping his hands around two of the glasses, he jutted his chin over your shoulder. “They’re back, we should go join them.” 

Picking up the other two, you followed him back to the table. Well, Nora, you did say you were into him. Let’s see what happens. 

As though she could hear your thoughts and needed to prove them true, your friend spoke up then. “So I noticed that they have a dart board here.” She brought her free hand up and across her body to point out the black and white circular game board. Your eyes flicked in that direction and then back to her face. “Anyone feel like playing?” 

You narrowed your eyes. “You want to play darts?” 

Nora blinked twice and gave you a tiny head shake which you took to mean play along. “I think it could be fun.” Her eyes shifted in Toban’s direction and then back to meet yours. 

Deciding to give her just a little bit of shit, you scrunched your nose. “Are you any good at darts?” 

She widened her eyes at you and pressed her lips together, and you had to take a sip of your drink to keep from bursting out in laughter at the flash of mock frustration in her eyes at your question. “Well, I don’t know. But I’m sure Toban could teach me.” She turned to face him, her cheeks lifting into her eyes with a broad smile. “You look like you know what you’re doing.”  

Tyene snorted before Toban could answer. “Oh, this should be good.” She linked her arm through yours and spoke your name. “C’mon, looks like we’re teammates.” As you stood, Tyene looked over to Nora and jerked her chin in Toban’s direction. “He’s really good with pointy things. He can definitely teach you.”

With that, your group moved to a high top table near the dart boards, the four of you playing a few games. Much to your and Tyene’s - and likely Toban’s - amusement, Nora took every opportunity to ask him  for help with her aim, your friend practically swooning when the man placed his hand on her back and adjusted her stance. This is officially the strangest wingwoman situation I have ever been involved with, but it’s fine. 

Midway through the third game, during one of Nora’s shots, Tyene’s phone dinged from inside her jacket pocket. “Hey,” she flicked her eyes from the screen up to meet yours, and then turned the phone around so that you could see the screen before glancing up to catch Toban’s eye. 

Setting your mostly empty glass on the table, you looked down at the message. 

You can come back whenever you’re ready. 

The words, though simple enough, made your heart pound against the walls of your chest as soon as you’d read them. Excitement to be back in the apartment with Oberyn swirled with a sudden rush of nerves over the potential for awkwardness, knowing what went on while the three of you had been out with Nora. What if it’s weird? What if he… 

Without thinking, you lifted your fingers to brush over the invisible mark on your skin. You felt your own pulse thrum under your touch as you marveled again at the importance of the sigil you wore. No. It won’t be weird. Nothing will be different, it’s just… 

Tyene cleared her throat and slipped her phone back into her pocket. “So I’m thinking we let Bullseye McGee and Toban win this round and then head out. Thoughts?” 

The uncertainty you were feeling seconds earlier vanished as you laughed, muttering “Bullseye McGee” under your breath with a shake of your head. “I think that’s a good plan,” you responded, lifting your glass and tapping it against Tyene’s. “What about -” You tipped your head in Toban and Nora’s direction. “Doesn’t he still need to -” You widened your eyes, and then it was Tyene’s turn to laugh. 

“Yeah, he still needs to walk Nora home.” She winked exaggeratedly, and you took the hint. He’ll take care of that at her place. Got it.  

“Right.” You nodded, winking back at her, and then you finished the last of your drink. “Okay then. Let’s go lose at darts real quick.” 

You caught Toban’s grin as he listened in from a few feet away, and then you stepped up to get Nora on the same page as the rest of you. Well, close to the same page, anyway. Conjuring up a yawn, you reached over to squeeze her elbow. “I think we should probably get going soon. Tomorrow’s a big day for our project, and -” Your stomach flipped inelegantly at the truth of that statement, but you did your best to ignore it. 

“- And you need your beauty sleep.” Nora finished your sentence, pinching your cheek teasingly before rolling her eyes. “Fine, be a buzzkill.” She draped her arm around your shoulder. “But let’s finish this game first. I’m feeling a comeback.” 

You laughed. “Oh are you?” You gestured to the board, where her last dart was still stuck two wedges to the left of where she was aiming. “Alright, then. Let’s see it happen.” 

Twenty five minutes later, you’d hugged Nora goodbye before asking her to let you know when she got in, and then you watched as she and Toban headed down the street in the direction of her building. It was probably about a fifteen minute walk for them - roughly double the time it would take you and Tyene to get back to the apartment you’d been staying in. But the night air was pleasantly cool so you didn’t mind the walk and you knew Nora wouldn’t, either. Especially because it means more time with Toban. 

The thought made you laugh to yourself, prompting Tyene to ask what was so funny. 

“Oh, maybe it’s the fact that I sent my normal human best friend off to make out with an immortal she just met.” 

“An immortal who is planning to drink her blood,” she added, pointing at you with a smirk. “Don’t forget that part.” 

That drew another laugh from you, as you once again pondered how all of this was actually happening in your life right now. That train of thought brought up another question. Wait a minute…  You looked over at Tyene, curiosity cutting a crease between your eyebrows. “Actually, about that part specifically…Can I ask you something?” 

She swiveled her head in your direction, short hair bouncing with the movement, and gave you a small shrug. “Sure. Go ahead.”  

Okay, now how do I word this? “How, um -” You hesitated, clearing your throat and reaching across your body to adjust the strap of your bag. “On nights like tonight, when you go out to -”  Fuck, just ask the question. “How do you drink without the person knowing?” You dropped your arm back to your side, head shaking slightly. “Don’t they feel anything?” I definitely did. “Wouldn’t they… I don’t know, don’t they notice?” 

“Oh, simple,” she replied, facing forward and continuing to walk without missing a step. “We just hypnotize them.” 

You clicked your tongue and gave her a playful swat on the arm. “Tyene.” She laughed at the false exasperation in your tone, the sound contagious enough to make you laugh, too. “I’m being serious.” 

“And how do you know I’m not? Hmm?” She glanced over at you with one eyebrow raised. “You ask a question, I give you an answer, and you automatically assume I’m fucking with you?” Her left hand came up to her chest. “That hurts, you know?” 

“Well maybe if you don’t want to be the girl who cried Direwolf you could try - I don’t know - not fucking with me every chance you get.” 

That only made her laugh harder, her head tipping back. “Yeah, yeah,” she replied. “But where would the fun in that be?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, I’m sure you’d find ways to have fun without playing confuse-the-human.” 

She draped her arm around your shoulders and pulled you in. “Hey, I’ve gotta strike while the iron is hot. I won’t be able to play that game with you forever.” 

She winked, giving you a small squeeze before releasing you. Her words made you suck in a quick breath. She keeps… Your heart thudded hard, and you knew she could hear it. It was far from the first time that Tyene had alluded to the fact that she didn’t believe you would stay human once Oberyn finally had his revenge. You didn’t love to admit it, but you knew that there was a part of you that wanted her to be right. But I still don’t know if - 

Your thoughts were interrupted as she spoke again. “Think of it as a rite of passage.” I will absolutely not think of it that way, but okay. “And if it makes you feel any better, you’re way better at picking up on my bullshit than others have been in the past.” 

“Oh, good.” You said it sarcastically, and through a smirk. But you were aware that the ability to pick up on - and call her out on - her bullshit actually meant something to Tyene. Your smirk grew into a real smile. “I’m so glad.” I am, though. “But can I please get a real answer now?” 

She snorted. “Yeah, alright.” The two of you stopped at a corner, Tyene pressing the button on the post to change the signal. You watched as she did another quick scan of the area, her eyes darting around to make sure that you weren’t being followed or listened to. There were other people out on the street, but they were all self-contained in their own little groups and pairs, none of them paying the two of you any attention. After a few seconds, Tyene confirmed your safety by continuing the conversation. “The answer is actually a simple one, even if it doesn’t involve hypnosis.” Her shoulders lifted in a shrug. “We can control what our bite will feel like.” 

You felt your eyes widen in surprise. Oh. It wasn’t what you were expecting, but it immediately made sense - they wouldn’t want to harm or scare the humans they drank from, but when encountering an enemy, they had the ability to inflict intense pain. Like when Oberyn bit Gregor in the alley. He definitely wanted it to hurt then. 

The walk signal changed and Tyene stepped off the curb, with you following half a step behind. “So,” you took a longer stride to catch back up with her. “So to them it just feels like… nothing?” 

“Well I don’t know if I’d say it feels like nothing. I like to think that after four hundred years I’m a little bit better at making out than nothing.” 

“No, I -”  You groaned, the sound turning into a laugh as you brought one hand up to your face.   “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” 

“See?” The point of her elbow bumped your bicep. “Very good at recognizing my bullshit.” She laughed, letting her arm drop to swing naturally with her gait. “But to actually answer your question, all they feel is the rush from kissing a stranger.” She shrugged. “No one’s going to complain about a little nip on the lip or one of us paying some extra attention to their neck.” No, I guess they wouldn’t. “And we always heal them when we’re finished, so there’s no marks or cuts. No proof.” She looked over at you, pausing to look past you and into the night for another check of your surroundings, her eyes coming back to yours after a few seconds. “We only take small amounts, so they typically don’t feel any side effects. But since we almost always pick someone at a bar it's easy enough to blame any slight dizziness during or immediately after on the alcohol.”

You hummed. “That makes sense.” 

You weren’t entirely sure, because it was dark and you weren’t as familiar with the part of the city the apartment was in as you were with other areas, but you thought you were getting close to the building. Probably just a few more blocks, and then - 

“I’m guessing you’re asking because Oberyn didn’t mask it when he drank from you?” 

“Um.” You blinked, clearing your throat before responding. “No, he… I definitely felt it. I mean -” You shook your head. “I knew what he was going to do, even the first time. I told him to do it, so I guess there was no reason for him to. And he was -” You took a breath that shook as you tried not to think about how close to death he was when the poison was at its worst. “He was injured, so maybe he couldn’t control it as much because of that?”  

“From what Ellaria told me, he would have been too weak to control what you felt closer to when she arrived.” That tracked. The poison in Gregor’s blood had left him so debilitated that he hadn’t even been able to heal you after a certain point. And I was so out of it I didn’t even know it was happening towards the end. “But,” Tyene held up one finger. “Not when he first drank from you. He would have been able to make it painless then.” 

“It didn’t hurt,” you clarified, shaking your head. “I thought it would, but it didn’t.” Heat rose to your cheeks as they lifted in an involuntary smile at the memory. “It was… it felt good.”

Tyene chuckled under her breath. “Leave it to Oberyn to try to pleasure his last meal.” The words were barely out of her mouth before she swung her head in your direction. “I’m kidding, I know you mean way more to him than that. And I’m not trying to make light of how serious the situation you both were in was.” She sighed. “That is like him, though. Thinking more about the people he cares for than he does himself. He wanted you to understand what was happening, because you’re not just some random hookup from a bar.” She smirked. “But he also wanted you to like what was happening, because you’re not just some random hookup from a bar.” 

No, I guess I’m not. You thought back on everything Oberyn had told you about his past - about Isabel and Cameron, and how much they each meant to him. They both knew what he was. He trusted, respected, and loved them enough not to hide it from them. Not to hide himself from them. It was overwhelming to think that that list now included you - that he had already started to feel the same way about you that he felt about them. That’s… I shouldn’t think about that. I should focus on - 

“You know,” Tyene broke the silence, her tone more serious than usual as you turned the final corner that brought your destination into view. “I don’t think I thanked you yet, for everything you did for him.” She sighed, tipping her head back to look briefly up at the sky. “In my first life, I lost my parents when I was still young. But once I met Ellaria and Oberyn?” She paused, turning toward you and wearing as soft a smile as you’d ever seen on her sharp features. “I never felt like I didn’t have a family. They both became like parents to me.” Oberyn had told you as much about Tyene’s history. But hearing it from her - hearing the emotion in her voice - made it hit much harder. “Losing him would have been…” 

She trailed off and you understood why. There weren’t words to describe that kind of loss, especially after centuries spent together. 

Reaching over, you took her hand and squeezed it. “I hope you never have to finish that sentence, Tyene.” 

She returned your squeeze and then lifted her hand to swipe at her eye. “Me fucking too.” She laughed and then you did, too, and then you were walking through the glass lobby doors and into the building. 

The elevator ride up to your floor was quick, with no one else getting on or off. As soon as the light indicated that you’d arrived, Tyene stated that she was headed straight for a shower. “The last apartment had shitty water pressure, so I’m taking full advantage while we’re at this place.” 

“It did, and I don’t blame you,” you responded. You got the feeling that while she was at least half serious about the water pressure, her immediate plans also had to do with giving you and Oberyn some time together, and for that you were grateful. “Enjoy it.” 

She scanned the key fob against the lock, the mechanism beeping as it opened. “Thanks, I absolutely will.” 

You followed Tyene through the door, turning to close and lock it behind you. As soon as you slid the deadbolt into place, and before you could turn back around, you heard your name. “You are back.” 

A syrupy smile spread across your face at the sound of Oberyn’s voice close behind you. “We are,” you replied before you moved, his hands reaching for and landing at your waist. 

“He just means you!” Tyene called from the hallway. “He doesn’t really give a shit that I’m back!” 

That made a laugh burst out of you, your forehead leaning forward against the door as Oberyn’s fingers curled more tightly around you. 

“I do care that you are back, Tyene.” You could tell without looking that he was speaking over his shoulder to her. “But -” You closed your eyes and took a breath through your nose as you felt his lips press behind your ear. “I did mean you.” 

You turned to face him then, one of your hands landing on his shoulder, the other resting flat against the right side of his chest. “I am,” you corrected your response. “Hi, Oberyn.” 

He smiled as you said his name, his eyes shining like dark suns and making you suck in a breath. 

Oh, he’s… There was a slight change in them from earlier, a brightness you hadn’t seen since he kissed you on the balcony at the Halloween party. It hit you hard to know that in that moment he was as much himself as he had been before his encounter with Gregor in the alley. 

There had been a subtle, underlying dullness in his eyes while he was suffering the effects of the poison, and a sharpness to their glint after Ellaria had given him so much of her blood to save him. But now he’s… You lifted your hand from his shoulder, bringing it up to rake your fingers through his hair, and Oberyn’s smile grew with the contact. This is all him, and exactly as it should be. 

“Hi,” he murmured in response, his grip moving from your waist to the crooks of your elbows before sliding down your arms to take your hands in his. “Did you have a good time?” 

You nodded, letting him pull you away from the door. “I did. Seeing Nora was…” You sighed. “I really needed that.” 

Oberyn ran his hands back up your arms, giving your biceps a light squeeze. “Good. I am glad that you were able to spend some time with her.” He dropped his left arm back to his side then, but lifted his right so that he could cup your cheek. “But I am even more glad that you are back. And that you are safe.” 

Pressing into his touch, you hummed. He’s so warm. “Me too. I knew I was safe with Tyene and Toban, though.” 

“You were.” His thumb swept over the crest of your cheek, and then his eyes narrowed as they flicked to the door and back to your face. He dropped his arm, looking over your shoulder at the door, and you took the opportunity to slip your shoes off. “Where is Toban? Did something happen, or -” 

From the hallway, Tyene poked her head back into the room, answering before you had a chance to. “He walked his midnight snack home to make sure she got there in one piece.” She disappeared again, the sound of a door closing behind her telling you that she’d likely gone into one of the bedrooms. 

You snorted, leaning into Oberyn’s chest and laughing. Nora would actually love to know that she was just referred to as a midnight snack. The context isn’t even important. . 

His arms came around you then, holding you close like he wanted to absorb the feel of your laughter. It made your heart flip. Oh, Oberyn. You wound yours around his back and turned your head to fit yourself against him, feeling the vibrations of his voice as he spoke again. 

“Wait a minute. Does that mean…” He pulled back just enough to look down at you, an amused expression on his face. You peered back up at him, barely holding back another laugh as he arched one eyebrow. “He drank from Nora?”

You wrinkled your nose and nodded. “Yeah, I think that was the plan. But don’t worry, she was definitely into it.” 

Oberyn chuckled, the sound bringing a warm amber tone to his voice as a teasing smirk played on his lips. “So she met someone at a bar and she probably let them bite her?” One eyebrow formed a perfect arch. “You and your friend are a lot alike.”  

Rolling your eyes, you let out a scoff. “Yeah. We are. Apparently we’re both irresistible to men who just want to drink our -” 

He cut you off with your name, dipping his head so that he could speak low into your ear. “It is not only your blood that makes you irresistible to me, issa ōños.” 

A shiver passed through your body as that phrase rolled from his tongue, making your heart skip in a way that you knew he could feel. “Oberyn.” 

Straightening up once more, he looked directly into your eyes and released you from his embrace. “You are my light.” He skimmed the tips of his fingers over the skin at the corner of your eye, then dropped them down to the side of your throat. You kept your eyes on his as they flicked down to follow the motion of his touch. “You are the end to the darkness I have known for so long.” You sucked in a sharp breath as he traced his mark, your mouth falling open and his gaze returning to yours. “And that has nothing to do with what runs through your veins.”  

You sighed as he let both arms fall to his sides, your tongue darting out to wet your lips before you slowly nodded. How do I even respond to that? “I know.” 

It was barely a whisper, and it felt inadequate compared to what he had just said to you. But you wanted him to know that you understood how serious he was about you. Even though he just spent three hours in bed with Ellaria, it doesn’t… You swallowed. It doesn’t matter. Doesn’t change what he’s feeling or what he wants. 

“Do you?” He asked, his smile poking a dimple into his cheek. “Good.” He took your hand then, gently pulling you away from the front door. You let him lead you towards the couch, but as he did, you realized something. Wait. He hasn’t… “Now come, tell me about your night. What did -” 

“Hold on.” Stopping a few steps from the couch, you tugged his hand so he’d turn back around. There was a question in his eyes, but you didn’t let him ask it, instead reaching for his other hand. Guiding both to your waist, you let yours land on his chest and shoulder. “Aren’t you going to kiss me, Oberyn?” 

His fingers curled in the fabric of your shirt, a husky sigh coming from his throat. “Is that what you want?” You hummed, moving your head up and down. “I wasn’t sure, because of what you said before you left.” He tilted his chin downward, eyes glued to your lips. “About how you didn’t know how you’d feel after…” 

“Hey.” You shifted your hand from his shoulder to the side of his face, calling his attention back up to your eyes. “I know. And I still don’t think we should… do anything in bed tonight other than sleep.” You scrunched your nose. “Or I guess, I’ll sleep and you’ll just watch me.” That earned you a small chuckle. “But right now? I feel like I want you to kiss me, Prince - Oh!” 

He didn’t make you wait one second longer, taking the rest of his name right out of your mouth as his lips met yours, parting to take your lower one between them. 

His left hand moved from your waist to the middle of your back, fingers splayed along your spine to urge you closer, while the right came around to cradle the back of your head. You closed your eyes and let out a quiet whimper at the swipe of his tongue along the inside of your bottom lip, immediately granting him what he was asking for. He deepened the kiss with a soft stroke of his tongue along yours, taking you right to the edge of the dizziness you’d mentioned to Nora. 

Nothing about the way that he kissed you gave you any indication that he was still thinking about the things he’d done earlier that night with Ellaria. In fact, every time he kissed you, despite your knowledge of the truth, he made you feel as if yours were the only lips he’d ever kissed. And that’s after only a few weeks. Your knees shook at the thought of how it might feel to be kissed by him after a year or two. Or 10.  

You groaned as you licked into his mouth, the point of your tongue slipping over his teeth and finding that his fangs had descended. He’s not trying to hide them at all anymore. That means… Oh, fuck. You tried to keep the next thought at bay, but your defenses were useless once you felt him nip gently at your lip. 

Imagine what it would be like to kiss him after a few hundred years of it. 

Your heart thumped unevenly and you sighed into the kiss. Stop. Stop it. You needed to rein yourself back in before he noticed how carried away you were letting yourself get. But pulling away from him was difficult, especially when you heard the gravelly sound he made as your tongue slipped over the elongated points of his teeth again. Oh, fuck, Oberyn. It’s not fair.

“If you keep doing that,” he mumbled against your lips. “It will be very hard for me to stop kissing you.” Illustrating his point, he kissed you again, that time surprising you by pulling you down and onto the couch beside him. 

You hummed out a laugh, both of your hands landing on his chest and resting near his collarbone. “Would that be such a bad thing?” 

He wrapped one arm around your shoulders and used the other to drape your legs over his lap. “A bad thing? No.” His thumb swept back and forth over your leg as he said your name. “Very much the opposite. But,” he paused, leaning in to trail his lips across yours and up to the corner of your eye. “I do want to hear about your night.” Straightening up again, he loosened his hold on you. “We will have plenty of time for more of that later, if that is something that you want.” 

Of course it’s something I want. “Fine,” you agreed, pulling your legs back to your side of his body and shifting slightly on the cushion. Oberyn withdrew the arm he had around your shoulders to let you get situated. You bent one knee, leaning it against his thigh, and tucked that foot beneath yourself as you held up one finger. “But I’m gonna hold you to that.” 

Oberyn smiled, and you thought you caught a quick flash of something that almost looked like uncertainty in his eyes. But they were bright and warm again by the time he spoke, his hand coming to rest atop your bent knee. “I hope that you do.” 

You glanced down at where he touched you, letting out a sigh at the way you could feel the warmth of his palm through your jeans. “I’m sure that I will.” Bringing your focus back to his face, you leaned sideways into the couch cushions, ready to regale him with the tale of your night out. “But you want to hear about bar hopping first, right?”

“I do.” He nodded. “How was-”

Wait. Is that…

His question was cut short by the sound of your gasp, your eyes widening at the glint of gold that you saw beneath his shirt with the small movement of his head. His chain. The pendant.  “Oberyn,” you breathed out his name, lifting one hand up to run your fingers over the solid links. “You have it back.” 

Gently, almost reverently, you untucked the chain from under his shirt, exposing the ornate pendant that hung from it. When you lifted your eyes back up to his, it hit you - what it meant to see him wearing it again. It’s how it should be. Though he hadn’t complained once since Ellaria took it from him, you knew that Oberyn hated not being able to feel the sun on his face for any length of time. The brief moments that he’d been permitted to use it while moving between apartments aside, it had been a full week since he had been able to step outside in daylight. You were glad that he had that back again. 

It also meant that you were right about what you saw in his eyes - that he was back to himself, the lingering traces of Ellaria’s more potent blood all but gone from his system. You knew that she wouldn’t have given it back to him yet if that wasn’t the case. Yes, he’d need it for the engagement party the following day, since it started before sunset. But you knew that Ellaria would have waited until the last second if she thought there was even the slightest chance that Oberyn couldn’t be trusted with it. And she didn’t. You swallowed a knot. Because he really is back to himself. 

Seeing that chain around his neck meant that the nightmare that started in the alley, when Oberyn had been poisoned and so gravely injured that every second that followed made you fear his death, was finally, truly over. You didn’t let yourself think about the fact that it also meant that in less than twenty four hours, Oberyn would be face to face with Cersei and Tywin Lannister. This is just about him. Not them. 

“I do,” he responded, reaching for the hand you’d used to free the chain and bringing it up to his lips. They brushed over your knuckles, and then he lowered your hand to press it over the pendant. 

You felt the ridges of the intricate design against your palm, your fingers spreading over the soft fabric of his shirt. “How does it feel?” 

His fingers slipped between yours, curling shut around your hand and the pendant. “Right.” He spoke your name then, smiling around the syllables. “It feels right, having it back.” 

I bet. You bit down on the inside of your cheek before you nodded, giving him  a smile, too. “Good.” He released your hand, letting his own fall back to his lap. You did the same, but kept your eyes on the pendant. The sun was still out when we left, I wonder if… “Did you get to use it?” 

You looked up at him again when he answered. “No. It was already dark when Ellaria returned it to me.” That’s a shame. “But even if it was still light out I would have waited.” 

What? Why? You shook your head, confusion forming a furrow between your eyebrows. “Waited for what, Oberyn?” 

He blinked, long lashes sweeping slowly shut and then opening again to let his eyes rove over your face. “For you.” That caught you off guard, your heart skipping a beat at the adoration in his expression as he continued. “Ellaria saved my life, and that is something that I will always be beyond grateful for. But you are the reason that there was anything left for her to save. You are the reason that I will get to feel the sun again.” Using the hand that had been resting on your knee, he tucked the pendant back under his shirt, then reached for your hand. “And I want you to be there when I do.” 

Me. He wanted to wait for me.

You hadn’t realized that a tear had rolled down your cheek until you tasted salt on your lips. “Then I’ll be there.” Your voice warbled slightly, throat thick with the sudden rush of emotion that his response hit you with. “With you, right at sunrise.” 

Another stray tear slid from your eye but Oberyn didn’t let that one reach your lips. Using his knuckle and then thumb, he swiped it from your skin and gave you a smile that turned his eyes to soft leather. “Sunrise sounds perfect.” 

Any time with you sounds perfect, Oberyn. You let out a sigh. “Too bad we have to wait -” Leaning forward, you reached for the phone on the coffee table, tapping the screen so that you could read the time. “- six and a half hours.” 

The warm sound of his chuckle reached your ears as you leaned back into the couch cushions, Oberyn’s arm winding around you to pull you closer. “A handful of hours is nothing.” His lips found a spot near your temple, pressing a kiss there as he continued. “I have waited lifetimes for this. For you.” You sucked in a breath as you straightened up to look at him, the remnants of his laugh still present in his eyes. “I can wait a few more hours.” 

“Oberyn,” you whispered, unable to reply with anything else. You still felt slightly tipsy from the few drinks you’d had earlier, a pleasant buzz humming through your brain and body. But it was nothing compared to the intoxicating feeling of knowing that Oberyn Martell wanted you. Your heart skipped and you knew he heard it from the twitch of his smile. You shook your head, forcing yourself to continue. “You’re one hell of a romantic, you know that?” 

That earned you another laugh, deeper and richer in tone. “Well I have always said that I was a better lover than a fighter.” He brought the hand that was resting near your waist up to curl around your bicep as you rested your head against his shoulder. “And I am an excellent fighter.” 

You hummed out a small laugh of your own. “And so humble, too.” 

Before either of you could say anything else, the phone buzzed on the table and you sat up to grab it. That’s gotta be Nora letting me know she’s home. Opening the message, you confirmed it with a snort to yourself. 

Hot Toban got me home safe and VERY sound if you know what I mean. ;) 

You typed back a quick response, letting her know that yes, you did know what she meant, and that you were glad. You hesitated, thumbs hovering over the keyboard for a few seconds before you added one last line. 

I promise we’ll go out again soon! 

I hope. 

You knew you weren’t completely in the clear yet and that there were still things that could get in the way of you making good on that promise. But you were trying not to dwell on that fact as best you could. Because worrying won’t change anything at this point. There was a solid plan in place. All that was left to do was to enact it. And it’s going to work. You leaned forward to set the phone back on the table. It has to. 

“Everything alright?” Oberyn asked, his eyes on you as you settled into your seat again. 

You nodded, smiling. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Nora was just letting me know that she was home.”. 

His expression warmed at that, eyes lightening. “You two care about each other very much.” 

It wasn’t a question, but you answered anyway. “We do. I’m lucky to have her.” That was putting it mildly - your friendship with Nora had made your life better in just about every way. You didn’t grow up with a sister, but you’d found one in her. 

“A friendship like that is a rare thing. I’m sure she feels just as lucky to have you.” Oberyn returned his palm to the top of your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. “And I’m glad that she got home safely.” Me too. “Now, will you please tell me about your night?” 

You laughed. “I promise it was a very normal night. But, since you want to hear about it so badly…” 

You took him through the whole night out, telling him about the first place you went to with Tyene and Toban, describing the burger you ordered and the excitement you felt when Toban handed you the phone and told you to invite a friend out. You told him again how good it was to see and catch up with her, about how effortlessly she fell  into conversation with the rest of the group, about her very unsubtle crush on Toban and the rounds of darts that you all played. 

By the end of your retelling, Oberyn was grinning. “It sounds like it was a good time.” 

“It was,” you answered, reaching for the hand that he still had on your leg and lacing your fingers with his. “The only thing that would have made it better is if you were there, too.” 

The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them. Shit. That sounded desperate. But Oberyn didn’t seem to agree. Instead, he leaned in and nuzzled his nose along the side of yours. “Then we will have to make that happen soon.” He kissed the corner of your mouth, pulling away to see the smile his promise put there. 

“I’d love that.” I really would. You sighed, leaning against him as he lifted his arm to let you come closer. For a few seconds it was quiet, and you could hear the sound of water rushing through the pipes, meaning that Tyene was still in the shower. But wait… “Oberyn?” He hummed a response. “Where’s Ellaria?” 

“She is in her bedroom, making some last minute adjustments to what we are wearing tomorrow.” You felt his fingertips slip beneath the hem of your shirt so they could brush over the skin at your waist. “She will be out when she is done. Or when Toban returns, whichever happens first.” 

“Nora doesn’t live too far from here, so he should be back soon.” 

“But I finished first anyway.” You heard Ellaria speak as she entered the room. 

At the sound of her voice you sat up and turned to see her wearing the same dress she’d had on when you left, though her hair had been secured into a long braid. You wondered if she ever looked less than the dictionary definition of elegant, but as she gracefully lowered herself into the chair opposite you, you realized what a ridiculous thought that was. 

“Did you have a good time?” She asked. “Tyene said she had fun but I didn’t get much else out of her because she was hell bent on getting into the shower.” 

You laughed. “She told me how much she was looking forward to it, so that tracks. And to answer your question, I had a great time. I’m glad it was able to happen.” 

You spent the next few minutes recapping the night for Ellaria, Oberyn’s arm still around you the whole time, his fingers continuously sweeping over your skin. It struck you how normal it felt to be sitting there that way with the two of them. 

Though you knew - and accepted - what was going to happen while you and the others were out of the apartment, before you left you weren’t sure how you’d feel when you got back. And that didn’t just include Oberyn - you were unsure about what it would feel like to interact with Ellaria afterwards, too. But… Nothing is different. It was a striking difference from what you’d felt before she’d arrived for the first time, and you were unsure of how to feel about how quickly you’d started to feel comfortable with Oberyn in her presence. I’ll think about that later.

Tyene sauntered in with a towel wrapped around her hair as you finished bringing Ellaria up to speed. “Did you tell them about how we kicked ass at darts?” She perched on the armrest of Ellaria’s chair, one leg crossed over the other at the thigh. “Because we definitely did.” 

“I did! I -” 

But halfway through your response, the atmosphere of the room changed entirely. In a single second it became tense, the same way it did just before Toban and Tyrion had arrived. You took a breath and held it as the three of them exchanged pointed glances, and began to worry the longer they remained silent. What’s happening? 

You heard the faint sound of footsteps in the hallway, and then Ellaria shot to her feet, her eyes locked on the door as though she could see right through it. Is it Toban? You felt Oberyn stiffen beside you and your heart started thumping nervously behind your ribs. Or is it… Are we safe? 

Ellaria crossed the room as the door opened inward, and you finally exhaled when you saw that it was Toban. Oh, thank fuck. The relief, however, was short lived, and judging by the tightness in Oberyn’s jaw, you knew that something was off. And as soon as Toban fully entered the apartment and you got a good look at him, you realized what it was immediately. 

He fought someone. 

He didn’t appear to be injured, but he looked generally disheveled - for him, anyway - his shirt bearing a small rip near one shoulder, dirt rubbed deep into the fabric there, and his hair tousled. What the fuck happened? Who did he fight? Was it Gregor again? 

You stood up, unsure which was racing faster; the beat of your heart, or the questions tumbling over in your brain. 

“Toban.” Ellaria spoke his name while she reached for his arm. Her braid fell over her shoulder as she angled her upper body to get the best view of his face. “Are you alright, my love? What happened?” 

He finished with the locks and turned so that he was looking directly at her. Lifting his hands to take her face between them, he locked his eyes with hers. For a handful of seconds it was as though you, Tyene and Oberyn weren’t even in the room with them. “I am fine.” He nodded once, then leaned down to kiss the top of her head before meeting her eyes again. “I promise.” 

You noticed the small movement of his thumb over her cheek, his touch an instant comfort to her. She visibly relaxed with his reassurance, the tension dissipating from her shoulders. You were struck, not only by the depth of the connection that was shared between Others and their Creators, but at how extremely human it was for Toban to be able to soothe her with such a gentle, innocent touch. It was equally impressive for him to want and need to give her that comfort. They love each other so much. So deeply. 

You swallowed and returned the squeeze that Oberyn had just given your hand. He does, too. Even with his and Toban’s history, he loves him.

Just as you were about to turn to look at the man whose hand you were holding, Toban surprised you completely by stepping away from Ellaria and directing his focus toward you. He spoke your name, placing one large hand on your shoulder. “I want you to know that your friend is safe.” 

Eyes widening, you gave a quick shake of your head. “Nora? Yeah, I - she -” You withdrew your hand from Oberyn’s and used it to gesture toward the coffee table, where the phone still sat. “She texted me, and -” Oh. A sudden weight dropped into your stomach as you connected the dots and realized what Toban was actually telling you. Oh, shit. You let out a burst of air, dizziness buzzing through your brain and goosebumps prickling your skin as you sucked in another breath. Oh my god. Your next words were barely above a whisper, your voice shaking slightly. “There was someone at her apartment.” You swallowed. “The Lannisters, they s-sent someone to her apartment? They-” 

They sent someone there to kill her. 

Your knees buckled then, but Oberyn didn’t let you fall, his arm swimming beneath yours to wind around your waist. “I’ve got you.” He spoke softly, lips close to your ear as you leaned your weight into him, letting him steady you. “You’re alright.” He kept his arm in place, even as you got your legs back under you and Toban continued. 

“They did.” The blond man confirmed your assumption, a chill speeding down your spine. His emerald eyes briefly flicked up to meet Oberyn’s before returning to yours as he said your name, the tone of his voice soothing. “They did, but they did not succeed. Nora is safe, I promise you.” He nodded once. “I made sure of it.” 

That means he killed them. He killed them before they could kill her. You swallowed hard, tears stinging the corners of your eyes as you tried not to think about what would have happened had Toban not decided to walk Nora home. Reaching out with one hand, you gripped his forearm and squeezed. “Thank you, Toban. That means everything.” 

His expression softened with your gratitude. “You don’t need to thank me, I would not have let anything happen to her.” 

A tear rolled down your cheek as you took a shuddering breath. “Well I’m thanking you anyway,” you managed, before your throat tightened again. 

Toban simply nodded, patting the hand you had on his arm and giving you a small smile. “Of course.” You dropped your hand when he lifted his, the man shifting his attention again, turning to Tyene. “What about you? Did you run into any trouble on your way back here?” 

Something in the way that he asked made you feel like the attempted attack on Nora wasn’t entirely a surprise. Did they expect something to happen tonight? You glanced up at Oberyn before turning towards Tyene for her answer. 

She shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest. “No, nothing. Guess Tyrion was right about them not wanting to send out too many of their fucking goons so close to the big event.” Wait, what? You stiffened, standing straighter and taking some of your weight off of Oberyn. So Tyrion tipped them off that someone might… that something might happen tonight? Why didn’t… Why didn’t Oberyn say anything about that? She rolled her eyes and examined her cuticles. “I wouldn’t have minded, actually. Fewer of them for us to take on later, and-”

“Speaking of Tyrion’s input -” You turned to look at Ellaria as she cut in, the concern on her face still present but fading. “You didn’t bite, did you my love?” 

That question struck you as strange. Why wouldn’t he? That’s the most efficient way for them to fight, isn’t it? There was something you were missing. There had to be. An uneasy feeling swam through your stomach as pieces started falling into place. 

“I did not,” Toban responded, those three words erasing the rest of the worry from Ellaria’s face. He clapped one large palm to Oberyn’s shoulder. “I think Oberyn’s experience with their poison was more than enough for all of us.”

“What?” You startled yourself by asking the question out loud, and then four pairs of eyes were on you as you shook your head. “What are you talking about? Tyrion’s input?” You looked from Ellaria to Tyene, the girl removing the towel from her hair and tossing it onto the couch with a frown. Why isn’t anyone - You looked up at Oberyn, a furrow forming in your forehead at the almost guilty expression he wore. “Oberyn…” You took a breath and let it out shakily. “What’s going on?” 

He took both of your wrists in his hands as he spoke, his eyes looking directly into yours. “I… I did not want you to be worried.” 

You felt your eyes widen as your mouth dropped open in shock. He knew. He knew that someone would be looking for us tonight. And if Tyrion told them not to bite if they were attacked, that means… You were knocked dizzy with your next thought. That means he knew that the Lannisters were using the same poison they gave to Gregor in all of their foot soldiers. It meant that your fun night out was truly anything but that. 

“Didn’t want me to be worried?” With a scoff, you withdrew your hands and crossed your arms. I’m going to be worried until this is all over. “We’re a little bit past that, aren’t we?” You shook your head. “I would have never invited Nora out if I knew she was going to be in danger because of it.” 

Out of the corner of your eye you saw the others leave the room, and as they did, something else hit you. 

“Oh my god,” you muttered, letting out a ragged breath. “She already was in danger, wasn’t she?” You blinked rapidly, licking your suddenly arid lips. “That’s why you had me call her to -” Another incredulous breath rushed from your lungs. 

Oberyn spoke your name, his tone laced with apology. You looked up at him and instantly wished you didn’t feel as angry and upset as you did. But I am. He… He should have told me. “We -” He frowned, closing his eyes and correcting himself. “I knew that there was a strong possibility that someone close to you would draw the Lannisters’ attention after you went missing,” he admitted, opening his eyes again. “But nothing was ever going to happen to you or to Nora.” 

You blew air through your lips. “You can’t say that for sure, Oberyn.” Shrugging, you shook your head. “What if Tyrion was wrong, and they sent ten men instead of one?” You cringed. “And I’m not just upset about Nora. Toban and Tyene were in danger, too, and you -” Your throat tightened as anger mixed with hurt and a touch of embarrassment. “You just had me believe that it was all fine, and-” I should have known. I should have known that a night out wasn’t just a night out. Not with everything that’s going on. 

“I am sorry.” 

You knew that those three words coming from him were a rarity. And when you searched his face you saw that they weren’t just words. It was there in his eyes, too. A part of you wanted to forgive him right there on the spot, wrap your arms around his neck and tell him it was fine. No one was hurt, and you knew that he had good intentions. Part of you wanted to just let it go, let him kiss you senseless until sunrise and chalk the deception up to him doing what was necessary to keep you from worrying. 

But it’s not just about what could have happened. It’s about the fact that he kept the truth from me. 

That was where the hurt was coming from. You weren’t one of them. You weren’t immortal, you weren’t powerful. You were, by comparison, painfully human. But you were just as much a part of what was happening as anyone else in the group. You deserved to know what they did, especially when it came to your also-human friend. 

You realized you hadn’t responded to his apology when he spoke your name. Breaking yourself free of your thoughts, you focused on Oberyn as he took a small step towards you. “Please, let me explain why I -” 

You stepped backwards, his frown deepening with the distance. “I will.” You swallowed and shook your head, the corners of your eyes starting to sting. “But I need a minute. I need… I just need to process this, Oberyn. Can you -” You blinked and a tear slipped free, his shoulders falling as he watched it roll down your cheek. “Can you just give me some time?” 

He nodded, eyes still tracing the salty track left behind on your skin. “Of course.” His hands clenched into loose fists and then fell open again at his sides, and you knew that he was resisting the urge to reach for you. You knew because you were doing the same. “Take however long you need.” 

You took an uneven breath and let it out, then returned his nod and forced yourself to turn away, leaving him standing in the living room. 

You felt slightly better after a hot shower. 

A hot shower and a good cry, to be exact. 

Standing under the steamy water, you’d let your emotions flow freely. You let yourself feel the delayed fear of finding out that you and people you cared about had been in real danger. You gave in, just for a few seconds, to thoughts of worst case scenarios - of you or Nora, killed by some Lannister lackey, of Tyene, poisoned like Oberyn, but unable to stave off death because she wasn’t as old or powerful as he was, of Ellaria losing Toban, of Oberyn losing you. You let yourself feel anger and rage towards the Lannisters and Gregor Clegane for creating the entire situation. You let yourself feel the smallness that came from being left out of the loop. 

And only when you felt that you’d emptied the tank did you get out of the shower, find a comfortable pair of sweats to put on, and climb onto the bed. Sitting back against the pillows, you brought your hands up to your face, dragging them down over your mouth. What a fucking night. 

A knock on the door startled you then, your whole upper body pivoting towards the sound. You figured that Oberyn would wait for you to go to him when you were ready to talk. Because that’s what he said. You blew out a long, slow breath, licking your lips before speaking. “I’ll be out in a minute, Oberyn.” 

If the knock hadn’t surprised you, the voice that responded would have - especially with its softness. “It isn’t Oberyn,” Ellaria said, adding your name. “Can I come in?” 

Sucking in a small gasp, you blinked at the door. “Um -” You stood from the bed and took two steps closer, heart thumping in your throat. Ellaria? Why is she… She wants to talk to me? “Yeah, h-hold on.” You let out a slow exhale and closed your eyes, trying to finish pulling yourself together before reaching for the doorknob. They opened as you opened the door, revealing the stunning woman on the other side of it. “Hi,” you muttered with a sniff, stepping aside to let her in and closing the door behind her. “Sorry, I -” 

She shook her head, cocking it to one side. “What are you apologizing for?” 

You let out a small, humorless laugh and gestured at yourself. “For…” 

“I understand why you were upset.” She crossed her arms, nodding. “Honestly, you handled it better than I would have.” Taking three long strides, she crossed to the bed, turning so that she could lean back against the mattress without actually sitting down. “More importantly, though -” She fixed her eyes on yours as she continued. “Oberyn understands.” 

Your mouth dipped in a half-frown. “Did he ask you to-”

She gave you a small smile. “No, I’m not here because he asked me to talk to you. I am here because I wanted us to have a chance to speak… without Oberyn present.” 

You felt your eyes widen at that, your mouth falling open. “Where is he?” You cleared your throat. “Won’t he be able to hear us?” 

“He is upstairs, on the roof.” She tilted her head to one side. “And technically, yes, he can hear us. But he won’t be listening.” 

You recalled what he told you about how he learned to tune things out to give others privacy. And he’d never eavesdrop on Ellaria. Clearing your throat, you nodded. “Okay. Should I sit down? I was… I was just about to go and talk to him before you -” 

“You can sit if you’d like, but what I have to say will only take a minute.” She waited to see if you would move to take a seat, and when you didn’t, she went on. “I know that he made a mistake tonight, not telling you things that you probably should have been told, and asking the rest of us not to tell you, either.” You felt your forehead wrinkle as you drew your brows together, but stayed silent while Ellaria continued. “But I also know that you mean as much to that man as finishing things with Cersei and Tywin does.” 

You sucked in a gasp, floored by what she had just said. “Ellaria, I…” 

“I also know that he has a good reason for everything that he does.” She surprised you again by lifting one side of her mouth in a smirk. “He may not always get things right, but he has his reasons.” 

When you spoke, your voice was thin, still breathless from the idea that you meant as much to him as she said you did. “I’m sure he does.” 

She stood straight then, her smirk spreading into a warm smile. “There are so many people in the world he could have chosen. But I am very glad that he waited for you.” 

Your heart slammed erratically at that. It was the first time that Ellaria had basically stated that Oberyn planned to offer to change you. That he wants to make me his first. 

“I… Ellaria, I’m not sure what to say, I -” You sputtered, mouth suddenly dry. 

“You don’t have to say anything.” She crossed the room, pausing to place her hand on your arm. “Just go listen to what he has to say.” Her fingers tightened briefly on your arm, but after she spent a few seconds letting her gaze wander over your face, she released her grip and left. 

You stood there for a solid ten seconds, one hand over your mouth, uneven breaths fanning out over your fingers. Then, without thinking twice, you grabbed the folded blanket from the foot of the bed, stuffed your feet into your shoes, and made your way out to the elevator. 

There was a slight breeze when you reached the rooftop, the cool air making you shiver as you stepped outside. 

You saw him immediately, Oberyn’s silhouette dark against the skyline as he stood near the railing, looking out over the city. He obviously knew that you were there, but you could see the moment that your presence registered with him, his shoulders lifting slightly. He turned, but even as you crossed the space he was still in shadow when he spoke. “I would not have blamed you if you did not come up here tonight.” 

There was a sadness in his tone and you briefly wondered if he was afraid that he’d gone too far, that you’d want nothing to do with him. Couldn’t be further from the truth, Oberyn. You cleared your throat, wanting your voice to sound certain. “Well, we have a sunrise date, remember?” 

He sighed out your name as you tossed the blanket onto the outdoor couch and came to stand beside him. When you finally got a good look at his face, you frowned. Oh, he looks - “I am truly sorry that I did not tell you everything you needed to know. And I am sorry that your friend was in danger because of me.” He shook his head, turning away from the view to meet your eyes. “I thought that I was protecting you both but I… I was wrong.” 

“I know, Oberyn.” You pressed your side against his and wrapped one arm around his waist, his arm winding around you so that you were both looking out at the lights. You sighed, resting your head against him. “I just… I think I’ve handled the truth pretty well so far. You have to give me credit for that. I can take the truth, even if it’s dangerous.” 

He turned to press a kiss to the top of your head. “I know,” he murmured into your hair, the strands still damp. “I know you can.” 

You tightened your hold on him then, your next words coming out just above a whisper. “You should have told me.” 

“You are right, I should have.” He turned to face you, bringing the arm that was around you up so he could cup your cheek. “I would like to explain why I didn’t, even though it was wrong, if that’s alright with you.” 

You nodded, leaning into his palm. “Okay.” 

He swallowed, letting his hand fall from your face to rest at your hip, and you realized that whatever he was about to say wasn’t going to be easy. “I was thinking about Elia.” 

That sucked the air from your lungs. Oh, Oberyn. 

“I was thinking about how when the Lannisters had my sister and her children killed, they did it to get to Ellaria. They did it because they knew that hurting me was a good way to hurt her.” You could hear the vitriol he felt for them even through the sadness in his tone. “ And I know that now they are trying to hurt me, and they know that the best way to do that would be to hurt you.” He sighed. “I know that Nora is like a sister to you.” You felt tears prick your eyes again. She is. “I know she is who you called the first night we were together, when I asked you if anyone needed to know that you wouldn’t be home. And I know that you would have been devastated if anything were to happen to her, just like I was when I lost Elia.” 

You didn’t want to interrupt, so all you did was nod, encouraging him to go on. 

“When I made my choice to become what I am, when I said yes to Ellaria’s offer, my decision was influenced by Elia’s death. With more than two thousand years of this life gone by now, I like to think that I would have made the same choice if my sister had lived.” He heaved an unnecessary breath and shook his head slowly. “But I will never know for sure.” Leaning over, he rested his forehead against yours and spoke your name. “I do not want it to be the same for you.” 

Oh my god. Holy shit. He… 

“When I gave you this…” He lifted his head and brought his hand up to your throat, thumb brushing over the invisible mark on your skin. Your eyes fell closed at his touch, a small breath escaping your lips at the way it felt. “When I gave you my protection, it was not just others of my kind that I promised to protect you from. It was all things that would cause you harm. All things that were within my power to keep from hurting you. And I foolishly thought that if I didn’t tell you about the Lannisters watching Nora, if I just had it taken care of without you knowing, that I was somehow protecting you from feeling that fear.” 

You looked up at him then, silent tears falling freely. “Oberyn…” 

He leaned forward and brushed his lips near the corner of your eye, catching a salty drop before it fell. “I am sorry.” He repeated the same action on your other cheek, kissing away another tear. “I promise it will not happen again.” 

You had no idea how to respond to what he’d said, so instead you simply wound both arms around him and buried your face in his chest. He held you like that for several minutes, until your tears stopped coming, and then, as though he knew that you were overwhelmed by the way he had all but confirmed what Ellaria had hinted at, he simply took your hands and led you over to the couch. 

“It is a good thing you brought that blanket if we are going to stay out here until sunrise.” He pulled you down with him, letting you settle against him before making sure that you were adequately covered. 

“Like I said,” you yawned. “We have a date.” 

He chuckled then, the sound welcome after all the tension of the last hour or so. “If you fall asleep before then I will not take it personally.”

You hummed a small laugh of your own. “Good, because I probably will.” Another yawn broke though. “Just wake me up if I do.” 

“I will.” 

“I bet it’ll feel nice,” you mumbled, exhaustion starting to set in. “Feeling the sun on your skin.” 

“And you in my arms,” he added, his voice like warm velvet. You nestled closer as his biceps flexed around you, and then you felt the press of his plush lips near your hairline, their contact lingering as he spoke. “The last time I felt both of those things, I was unsure that I would survive and terrified that you might not.” He dragged the tip of his nose over your forehead to drop another kiss to your temple. “This time, I know that we both will.” 

You ran your fingertip along the links in the chain around his neck before letting them slip over his skin beneath the collar of his shirt. “We will,” you mumbled. 

You felt yourself slipping under then, but you could have sworn you heard him repeat those two words, and then add a few more. “We will. And then we will have forever.” 

[berryispunk]

Happy Accidents

pairing: Oberyn Martell x trans! reader

summary: a handsome and mysterious stranger enters the coffee shop you’re working at. (modern day AU)

tags: meet-cute!!, fluff, compliments, no physical description of reader, no smut

notes: This is for the secret Santa of @pedrostories ! It was truly a challenge but I hope I did decent. My giftee is @crowandmousewritingco I hope you like it 🥹💛 this is unbeta’d. We die with the sinking ship :)

It is a crazy busy day at the cafe. Nothing unusual for this time of year. When people are so lost in the Christmas preparations, too focused on their own misery to be nice to employees, time flies. You always tell yourself you don’t care. After all it's nothing personal you try to remind yourself. But today, when the fifth person yells at you that they ordered cappuccino without caffeine and not with it something inside of you snaps. You glare at the man who’s dressed in a suit that looks like it costs more than you make in a month.

“Sir, we’re all just doing our job. I am sorry if my colleague made a mistake with your order, but this doesn’t give you any right to be so rude,” you throw at him, your voice threateningly calm causing every pair of eyes on you and for a split second you regret even bothering to open your mouth.

That’s until the man answers, a dismissive look in his eyes as he scoffs “I want to speak to your manager.”

“I am in charge today, so if there’s something you want to discuss feel free, sir, ” you triumph and for a moment it feels like winning, like you’ve got the upper hand. Not that there would be a prize for it anyway.

The man musters you for a moment longer, anger and vanity seeping out of him, tinting the whole atmosphere until suddenly another man steps in, dressed in slacks and a really deep v-neck button down in mustard yellow.

The off white winter coat just casually thrown over his right shoulder, holding it with his big left hand, on every finger a gold ring, each one of it more splendid than the other.

He’s standing really tall, his confidence overshadowing the energy of the suit guy by far. His dark hair, a stark contrast to his golden skin tone, is perfectly trimmed and styled.

You caught yourself staring at him way longer than what would be considered decent as he winks at you and turns his attention back to the suit guy.

“Sir, please step back so the rest of us can make an order as well”, he purrs in a really deep voice. His voice is calm and calculated, but something else swings in the way he talks.

Authority.

The other man frowns a bit at the dark haired man, but instead of protesting he nods, takes his allegedly wrong order and flees the cafe causing the man in front of you to smile satisfied and his attention shifting back to you.

“Sorry,” he says almost apologetically, way softer in the way he talks than moments ago. “Some people just don’t know any manners.”

His comment causes you to snort and he gives you an honest smile back, a warm one that almost makes your heart flutter.

Fuck. He’s attractive.

“Nothing new, especially not during the holidays”, you answer.

“So, what can I get you ?” you ask in trained professionalism.

“I’d like a big black coffee to go, please. And maybe…” he drifts off, taking a step closer to the cake display. “A lemon cheesecake muffin as well.”

You nod in response, packing the muffin in a small paper bag and starting to prepare his coffee.

Your back is turned to him, but you’re really aware that his eyes still are on you. Maybe even checking you out and the thought simultaneously amuses and flusters you.

You think of the way this man handles himself, the way he’s so confident but also so kind should be a paradox. Usually people this confident are cocky and don’t care the slightest about employees like you. But he seems different. In a good way.

As you’re finishing up his coffee order, you decide to ask for his name. Usually you don’t do this here, but you think it’s a sneaky way to know more about this mysterious good looking man.

“Which name can I write on your cup ?” you ask with a professional smile.

“Full name or just my first name?” he asks back while he plays with one of his rings.

“Whatever you prefer,” you reply and he smiles in response as he leans a bit more towards you above the counter.

His gaze on the coffee cup in your hand before his eyes meet yours.

His eyes are dark brown, warm and welcoming.

The smile that still decorates his face reaches his eyes and causes small wrinkles around them.

It’s an honest smile, one that is really rare especially during the holidays but also incredibly flirty.

“Oberyn Martell.” he finally replies. “That’s my name,” he adds and you scribble it onto the coffee cup.

“Okay, Oberyn Martell,” you repeat and let the name ring in your ears, tasting the way it sounds in your own voice.

“Cash or card?” you ask as you place the paper bag and coffee cup on the counter, typing his order in your cash register system.

“Card,” he replies and hands you his credit card, a black american express. You push the payment device wordlessly closer to him and wait for the confirming beeping sound.

“You know you’ve got a beautiful smile” he smirks, causing your cheeks to get hot as your eyes meet again.

“Excuse me?” you ask to reinsure you heard it right while the heat creeps further up your face.

He chuckles cockily and repeats, a bit lower this time.

“I said, you’ve got a really beautiful smile”, his eyes wandering to your lips before they find your eyes again.

You swallow for a moment before you’re able to mumble a “Thank you.”

He shakes his head slightly, clearly enjoying getting you flustered that easily. The smirk never leaving his face as he takes his order from the counter.

“So, can we quit the chit-chat and I ask you for your number instead?” he asks, like it’s the most normal thing ever and not absolutely crazy considering the fact you two just met by accident in the cafe you’re working at.

You blink in disbelief about the absurdity of the moment before your brain kicks back in action.

“My phone number?” you ask back, clearly still puzzled by his bluntness. “I–”

You try to come back with something, anything, to let him know that this is out of line. That it’s too fast, too early, too much. But you can’t.

All you can focus on is this handsome stranger in front of you and the blush on your cheeks.

You finally snap out of your trance-like state and write down your number on a sticky note.

He takes it from you, making sure his fingers brush over the back of your hand as he gives you another charming smile.

“Thank you, beautiful,” he purrs and just as you thought you’re finally able to function like a normal human again, you start giggling like a teenager.

What the hell is wrong with you.

He still holds your hand and place a soft, feathery like kiss on the back of it, his eyes locked on you as he whispers

“I’ll call you as soon as I can, that’s a promise,” he smirks and as he’s in the movement of leaving he adds

“By the way, nice pin,” pointing to the little trans flag enamel pin on your work apron.

Usually people never notice it or just don’t say anything about it. Either because they don’t know what it is or simply because they don’t care but something about the way he noticed and pointed it out makes you giddy.

“Thank you,” you retort and smile genuinely at him.

“I need one of those with the bi-flag. If you have any recommendations where to get those, let me know” he winks and suddenly this man, who’s not even way too attractive for you, is also part of the LGBTQIA+ community and it makes your heart flutter even more.

“Will do,” you snicker. “Bye, Oberyn.”

“Bye, beautiful. See you soon.” he answers with a smile so bright it’s illuminating his whole being.

And as quickly as he came in the shop, as fast he vanishes out of it and leaves you alone with blushed cheeks, a racing heart and a million questions on your mind.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Aphelion - 11

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Female Reader, Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand

*Please be sure to consider all chapter warnings before reading! Warnings will be updated for each chapter in individual posts as well as on the Masterlist.

Warnings: language, discussion of the past, mentions of violence, blood and death, mention of self-harm, NSFW, vampirism, biting

Word Count: 16,754

Summary: Oberyn has already told you that it's been 400 years since he last used his mark of protection on someone that he cared about, but when you learn why he stopped using it - and how that decision has shaped his life since then - it sheds new light on what it means that he used it on you. And so does what happens after he shares this with you.

The plan for dealing with the Lannisters is in place, and preparations continue throughout the week - until Toban and Tyene surprise you with something unexpected but extremely welcome.

A/N: HAPPY HALLOWEEN FROM @something-tofightfor & I! We hope that your spooky season is full of fun, treats, and just the right amount of scares. We also hope that you all enjoy this mega-packed chapter! This story continues to be so much fun for us to work on, and we're both really excited about this update and what's still to come. Thank you from the bottoms of our hearts to everyone who has interacted with this story - your comments and reactions make us very happy ghouls.

Also, if you have questions about details or plot points or the way that Westerosi history/world fits into the “real” world- please ask! We don’t want to confuse anyone.

Catch up with the Aphelion masterlist here!

(banner by @valkblue )

It took him more than a few seconds to gather his thoughts, but Oberyn’s hold on you never wavered. You stared out and over the city, the lights glittering in the distance, and you let yourself think again about everything that had happened in the previous hours. No, not just hours … days. 

But unlike Oberyn, you didn’t think silently. 

“I’m not sure if you know this, but …” Closing your eyes, you took a long breath. “If it wasn’t for Golden Lion and my job, I’d probably be in some shitty little apartment in the Midwest right now.” He hummed in response but didn’t speak, one of his hands moving slowly back and forth over your stomach. “I knew what I wanted to do with my life when I was a teenager, but I never really thought that I’d get hired by a company like theirs right out of college.” 

“They did something right, at least.” You snorted at his words, his irritation barely masked by amusement. “Was Golden Lion the first place you’ve worked?” 

“It was my first full time adult job, yeah. I did an internship with them my senior year of college and I guess they were impressed, but …” You shrugged. “They had more than 100 candidates apply for three open positions so I figured I’d get a “thanks but no thanks” letter after a few weeks and started applying to museums and historical programs in places like Michigan and Illinois and Ohio. But instead … I got a job offer with a relocation assistance stipend.” 

It had been one of the best days of your life, and even though you’d learned that Golden Lion - and the Lannisters especially - weren’t the people you’d thought they were, your time at the company had been worthwhile. It taught me so much and it brought me here. 

“They do have a knack for recruiting people with talent.” He sighed, lowering his lips to your shoulder again. “It is an annoying thing that has been true since … well, since the beginning.” 

You felt him smiling and you did, too, still staring out into the darkness. “I had a choice between working in New York, London, one of the Westeros office locations, or here.”

“And you chose California.” He kissed the side of your neck, breathing the next words into your ear. “The City of Angels.” You rolled your eyes every time Los Angeles was referred to that way, but when Oberyn said it, it had the opposite effect on you. I am a walking cliche when it comes to him. 

“I did. Westeros was tempting, just because of everything it would have allowed me to see, but I decided it was too far away for something that I didn’t know if I’d get to do for long. In London I would have been in a really small office and that wasn’t appealing. New York was …” You wrinkled your nose, even though he couldn’t see it. Never New York. “But California? I figured that even if the job didn’t work out, I’d have the beach. And then I met Nora and her friends and it turned out I really liked what I did for work - and most of my coworkers.” You spun to face him, finding that you were blinking back tears. 

You knew it was selfish - that after everything the Lannisters had done to the Martells and to the people Oberyn loved, you had no right to be so upset over something as trivial as your job. But it was important to me. It was a huge part of my life. Everything I worked for. 

“And I think that’s what the worst part of this is. Even though there were always ulterior motives to what they had me doing, it was … I liked it. I liked working for Golden Lion. I learned so much. I met so many people and worked on so many great projects, and …” You glanced up, lips pressed together. “And then I met you, and I realized that I knew so damn much, but I really knew nothing, even after all this time.” 

“Meeting me was the worst part?” He was teasing you, but when you met his eyes you saw concern in them, Oberyn barely concealing a frown as he watched you. “I don’t think that anyone has ever been so bold as to -” That made you laugh, both of your hands coming up to cover your face and wipe some of the tears away. 

“Yes, Oberyn. The worst. I meet an unreasonably hot man that just so happens to be the literal embodiment of every fantasy I’ve ever had in my entire life at a bar. Then two weeks later I’m standing with him on the balcony of a penthouse apartment so fucking nice that I have no business being anywhere near it. Oh, and I’m also wearing a mark of protection from him on my neck that means that he chose me, and -” 

Oberyn moved before you’d even registered it, gathering you in his arms and holding you tight against his chest, face turned down so that he could kiss the top of your head. “I do see how that might be terrible.” Inhaling deeply, you let yourself cry for a few seconds, Oberyn’s arms locked in place. “But you need to look at me.” 

You did, pulling back enough so that you could meet his gaze. The playfulness was still there, but Oberyn’s mood had shifted again, the man mostly serious. “What?” 

“You can’t blame yourself for not knowing the truth. Not many people do. Even those that are like me aren’t … they do not all come from Westeros, or have the same vendettas that we do. And even I have to admit, the things that the Lannisters have done to remain relevant throughout the years … it is impressive. It is even more impressive because like I said, they attract talented people, which means their relevancy lasts.” 

“Yeah, but it’s just … a cover. They used people like me to try and find you, Oberyn. You and your family, and -”

“But think about it.” He loosened his grip on you, taking a half step back and urging you to back up and against the low railing. “How much did you learn? How much did you archive? How much will the records you created teach others? Yes, the end goal was for Lannister benefit, but overall, you’ve done more good for Westeros than you know.” He reached up, fingers curling against your neck so that he could press his thumb to the mark he’d put there. It sent a tingle of heat through you, your lips parting and feet shuffling toward him, both hands rising so that you could grip his shirt. “You know now. And if… when this goes according to plan, I’m sure Tyrion will have no problem getting you back to your position, if that’s what you want. This plan will make him mortal, but getting rid of the rest of the Lannisters puts him at the head of the company by name and lineage, and I do not think that he will mind doing a small favor for me.” 

You hadn’t even thought of that - of the possibility that after everything was done, you could go back. But I’ll need to work. I don’t have thousands of years worth of finances saved somewhere, and I can’t pay my rent here without a job. “We’ll see. We need to get through the next …. When is the wedding again?” 

“The engagement party is next weekend. The wedding follows soon after. They are apparently following the Westerosi custom of the party being used as a lead-in to the main event, but that works in our favor.” 

“Yeah, there’s so much going on no one can have eyes everywhere.” You sighed, closing your eyes. “Thank you for talking me down, Oberyn. I’m sorry I -”

“You never need to apologize to me.” He said your name, the man’s thumb and forefinger tilting your chin up so that you could see his wink. “For anything. I understand what you are going through, and I understand how much your life has changed.” Flattening your hands against his belly, you nodded and then took a deep breath. 

“If you say so. But I need to stop getting sidetracked. We have a lot to talk about and -” You were interrupted by the rumble of your stomach, Oberyn’s eyes immediately dropping at the sound. Shit. Of course he can hear that, he -

“When was the last time you ate?” He tweaked your chin, his smile widening. “It sounds like it’s been a while.” 

“I had some fruit while we talked to Tyrion, but it’s been … hours? Lunch, maybe? I don’t…remember.” You trailed off, frowning. Since the night of the Halloween party, your dining habits had been less than regular. The fact that no one in your company  ate at typical times wasn’t helping, either. “I should have something, though. Or else I won’t be able to sleep tonight.” 

“Stay here.” He nodded twice. “I’ll get you something and then… I’ll tell you about Cameron and Toban.” 

He disappeared back into the apartment, the door closing softly behind him. Once he was gone, you turned back to the railing, gripping it with both hands. You’d wasted time complaining about your job, but not too much, and you knew that even though it was late, there were still hours before sunrise. And he’ll want to stay out here as long as possible. 

Your head swirled with bits of information - what you knew about the Lannisters and the Martells, what you knew about Oberyn and Ellaria’s bond, the vow that Oberyn had made to himself the moment he’d been turned and learned what happened when someone turned others. And you knew that no matter how much time you had to understand it, it would never be enough. Unless that eternity that Toban mentioned is possible. That might be … 

Swiping one hand over your face, you hung your head, opening your eyes so that you could watch the cars on the street far below you. Tyene had offered to change you if you wanted it. Toban’s willingness to step in when necessary had already been tested, but you had a feeling that if he attempted the same thing a second time, even Ellaria’s interference wouldn’t protect him from Oberyn. But I don’t want either of those options. If it’s not Oberyn… it’s no one. 

Linking your fingers together, you stared out and over the city, weight resting on your forearms. Four hundred years is a long time, even for him. And it sounds like Cameron was incredibly important to him but he still wouldn’t … he didn’t even use his mark, he … “It’s late, so I figured you didn’t want anything heavy.” 

Turning at the sound of his voice, you watched as he held up a plate with one hand, a bottle of water held in his curled fingers and a stainless steel bottle tucked under his other arm. “A sandwich? Did you make this? Or was it -”

“I might have been a prince in a past life, and not need to eat in this one, but I know my way around a kitchen.” He grinned as he set everything down on the small table before unfolding the blanket laying atop the outdoor couch. “Come here.” 

You did, stepping in front of him - and when Oberyn draped the material over your shoulders, he used the ends of the blanket to pull you closer, ducking his head down to press a kiss to your lips. That kiss was longer than the last one on the rooftop, but he still broke it much too quickly, stepping back and gesturing for you to sit. “Thank you for … dinner? A midnight snack? Whatever this is, I’m going to inhale it.” 

“Good.” He sat next to you, rolling the container he held between both of his hands. “I hope it is alright with you if I … also eat.” Your eyes flicked from the sandwich in your hand to the bottle in his, both brows shooting up in understanding. Blood. There’s blood in there, and he didn’t want me to see it while he drank. 

“Of course. Eat.” You took a bite, chewing to give yourself a few extra seconds before speaking again. “Oberyn, you don’t have to worry about that with me. I understand what … you are, and what you need.” Elbowing him, you turned your head to look at the man. “And I’ve already seen you at your worst with Clegane, right? So it -”

“That wasn’t anywhere near my worst.” Flipping the straw up on his bottle, Oberyn sipped from it, staring straight ahead. “But yes, you have briefly seen the worst parts of me.” Your stomach dropped at his words, but part of you wasn’t surprised. He’s been alive for 2,000 years, and he thinks… Oh, Oberyn. “I know that you are expecting to hear about Cameron. But to tell you about Cameron, I need to go back much further.” He sipped again, eyes closing as he swallowed. “To Isabel. To before Isabel. I need to tell you why I stopped offering my protection to the humans I cared for.” 

His voice changed as he spoke the woman’s name, and it only took moments for you to figure out who she was. But instead of interrupting, you continued to eat your sandwich, scooting marginally closer to him while you chewed. It took a few seconds, but Oberyn laid an arm over your shoulders, his fingers closing around the far one and squeezing. I’m listening, Oberyn. 

“When Ellaria turned me, I knew that I wouldn’t get my revenge right away. I knew that it could take time, but I never thought … I never thought thousands of years would pass.” He paused, head shaking from side to side slowly. “The longer I waited, the more I needed to do to fill my days. By the time I was given the sunlight again, Ellaria and I were far from Westeros. My immediate relatives were long gone, and there was no sign of the right Lannisters. She took me to Greece and within a year I… we met someone.” 

You weren’t surprised - Oberyn’s magnetism had been well documented in all of the ancient texts that you’d seen, and you imagined that given the opportunity to meet new people in new places, it hadn’t been any different. 

“But it was short lived, because… I wasn’t careful enough. Her association with Ellaria and I put a target on her head, and she was … she was killed because of it. She was killed and we had to leave, and it was only then that Ellaria explained the process of marking someone for safety.”

“Oh, Oberyn.” Wincing, you reached over and squeezed his knee. “I’m so sorry.” He lost someone else, almost right away. I can’t… 

“I was too. And from there …” He laughed, but the sound was sad. “From there, I admit that I treated offering my mark in the same way I lived as a man - in excess. Even Ellaria questioned me at times, but it was the way I coped. I could not have the revenge I wanted, and losing more people that I cared about was not an option. So for a few hundred years, I … marked my partners. I kept them close without thinking twice, but I never hesitated to step away from them when it became clear that Cersei and Tywin and the fucking Mountain were back, or when they demanded too much of me.” 

“Oberyn, I …” You didn’t know what else to say - especially since up until that conversation, you’d assumed he’d always been selective about who he offered protection to. But I was wrong. 

“Many of them asked to become like me, and I denied all of them - most of them without explanation.” He took another drink, pausing before he set the bottle down on the table. “Losing them of natural causes became almost routine for me. Eight. Ten. Twelve. It was not easy to say goodbye, but I was not heartbroken in the same way I was when the first was taken. Finally, Ellaria pulled me aside, and she let me know what she thought.” 

“What did she think?” Curling your legs beneath you, you leaned against Oberyn’s side. “It doesn’t seem like she would have said anything unless she felt strongly about it.”

“You are correct.” Glancing up, you saw that he was smiling - that expression a fonder one. “She told me that the mark was meant to be a symbol of honor, and an indication that the person who wore it was special. She said she’d never try to tell me how to live my second life, but that unless I used that ability with some discretion, it was … meaningless. That in our community, the mark had come to symbolize intent, and I was treating it like giving someone a worthless trinket. I hadn’t ever thought of it that way.” 

“Were you two together all that time? I know that Makers don’t always stay with their Children, but you and Ellaria are … different.” 

“No. She stayed with me for a long time, but once she was certain I would be alright on my own, we separated. We’d see each other … well, to us, it was frequently, but to you, it probably isn’t.” He started moving his hand up and down on your arm, Oberyn shifting so that you could move even closer. “She made a special trip to tell me what she thought about me using my mark, though. And afterward … I slowed down. I slowed down and I realized that there was no point in protecting people in that way. It  was only for my benefit. It didn’t offer them anything in the end.”

Unconsciously, you reached up, touching the space on your neck that bore his sigil. Something changed again. Ellaria and Tyene and Toban’s reactions were real. This isn’t just a mark, it’s… more. 

“It’s not possible for me to be emotionless; I’m sure you know that. But I … stopped letting myself get so attached. I stopped settling in places long term. I kept moving. I focused on my eventual revenge instead of on immediate pleasure, and instead of one or two people a century wearing my mark and knowing what I was, more and more time passed between each one. I kept my own secret, and didn’t linger long enough for people to start asking questions.” 

“You must have been lonely.” Swallowing hard, you closed your eyes. “Even with Ellaria and the Others that you came into contact with, it must have been so hard.” 

“It was. But it got easier each year. The difficult part came when the questions about me making a Child started coming, and I had to explain my reasoning for not turning anyone.” 

“That’s nobody’s business, though.” You rolled your eyes. “It’s like people questioning why someone like me isn’t trying to have a baby, or hinting that time is running out, or making the assumption that you can’t be happy unless you’re a parent. That’s a personal choice, Oberyn, and even though I’m kind of relieved to know it isn’t just humans who think that’s their business, it’s still awful of them to question you like that.” 

“The thing is, that my reason for not turning anyone is … hypothetical. Yes, most of us pass our strongest traits on when we change someone, but it isn’t set in stone that it happens.” He removed his arm from around you and then leaned forward, picking up the thermos  again and taking a long pull from it. You caught a whiff of copper, biting your lip at the scent, but before you could say anything, he continued. “Even Ellaria started to hint that there would be nothing wrong with me changing someone and potentially passing something along, but she never pushed. And after those conversations - after seeing her and Toban and meeting others like us and their first Children, I began to see the appeal… and I started using my mark again. Sparingly, but … just in case. Just to let everyone know that someone was off limits.” 

“But you never acted.” He flipped the straw down and let the bottle go, leaning back. “Even though you were close.” 

“I was.” He sighed. “Sort of.” Without warning, Oberyn pulled you onto his lap, strong arms holding you against his chest though you were still wrapped in the blanket. “I met Isabel while I waited for Ellaria to arrive for a visit, and there was … something about her. A connection between us that was immediate. I fell for her and offered her my protection. She accepted, and asked if … if it was possible that we could be together forever.” 

“You considered it.” You looked up at him, watching as Oberyn nodded slowly. “Because if Ellaria thought you were going to choose between Tyene and Isabel, you must have been much closer than before.” 

“I was.” He met your gaze then, the line between his brows deep as he frowned. “But I made the mistake of telling her that it was in fact a possibility, and she … assumed.” Oh, no. “And with that assumption, our relationship changed. I loved her. The idea of … forever with her was not unappealing, but …” 

“She thought a maybe was a definitely.” He nodded again and then winced when he looked away, like he was remembering actually living the experience. “Did she know about your past? About the Lannisters and your family?” 

“She did. And at first, she told me that she understood my need for vengeance, even though she hadn’t ever seen or heard of the Lannisters before me. But as more time passed, I think … it became clear to her just how focused on that goal I was. I spent as much time with her as I could, but I was also with Ellaria and Tyene, making plans. It had been a long time since Cersei and Tywin had shown their faces so we thought it was probably coming. And when I reminded Isabel that there was a chance that I would turn her and our time together would be short because I did what needed to be done and did not survive, she …” 

He lifted a hand a rubbed slowly at his jaw, still staring out at the city. You’d thought that Oberyn’s reasons for not turning the woman had been simple, but the previous few minutes had proven otherwise. And I think it’s going to get worse. 

“She did not take it well. She said that Ellaria encouraging my revenge quest for over a thousand years was not a good idea. She said that if I kept it up, I would only do more harm to myself and the people I cared about. She said that once I turned her, I would understand that there was more to my life than the need to remove the Lannisters from the world. And that was … the last thing I needed to hear. Especially since Ellaria had been the one encouraging me to make an offer to Isabel in the first place.” 

“I’ve said a lot of stupid things in my life, Oberyn, but none of them have been as stupid as telling you Ellaria was a bad influence on you.” He smiled at that but it was still sad, his hold on you tightening. “That wouldn’t have been a good start to Isabel’s new life.”

“No. And as much as I loved her, Ellaria’s presence was … is… always going to factor into my decisions. I will never compromise on that, no matter how many years I walk this Earth, or who I choose to have beside me.” And you shouldn’t have to. Ellaria isn’t just your Maker. She’s … everything to you. “Isabel didn’t take that well, and she definitely didn’t take me telling her that I’d chosen not to turn her because of her feelings about Ellaria well, either.” 

He stopped speaking, and you watched the emotions pass across his features, his face more expressive than you’d ever seen it before. He tightened his jaw and then loosened it before finally looking down at you with another frown on his face that sent a shallow ache through your chest. “Are you -”

“Give me a second. This is not easy for me.” He closed his eyes and then turned toward you, kissing you on the forehead and lingering there. “I left her and went back to Ellaria and Tyene full time. I refused to turn Tyene because that girl deserved better than to be someone’s second choice, and Ellaria was far more equipped to handle her transformation than I was.” He spoke without pulling back, his lips brushing over your skin with each word. “But curiosity got the better of me, and after a little while, I went back to check in on Isabel, and she …” 

You felt it before you saw it - the warmth of Oberyn’s tears falling against your skin. Without thinking twice, you slipped an arm around his back and the other under his shoulder, turning your head so that you could press your cheek to his chest. Whatever he’s going to say next is going to be awful. 

“She cut my mark from her skin.”

You closed your eyes as the ache in your heart deepened. Without realizing it, you tightened your hold on him, fingers digging into his skin. You were expecting it to be bad given the way he was struggling to get through this part of the story. But that’s horrible. I can’t even imagine… 

Your thoughts trailed off as he continued. “She said if I wouldn’t choose her, she didn’t want the safety my mark brought her. Since she could not see it, she… What she did to herself, it… her arm was … mutilated. The wound … it … it became infected, and the infection spread. She refused to let me do anything about it.” He paused again, and when he spoke, you heard the tremble in his voice. “She was too weak to get out of bed, but she was strong enough to tell me that all she’d done was make sure that I didn’t have to wait around for years to watch her die of old age since I wouldn’t give her a forever.” 

“Oh, Oberyn.” Your blood ran cold at his words, and you knew that he’d heard your sharp intake of breath. “That’s… how could someone do that to you?” You knew that he’d loved the woman, but you thought she’d been selfish - especially when it came to Ellaria. And if she knew what avenging his family meant, she just tried to manipulate him. And that’s even worse. 

���I don’t know. But she did die, and despite what she’d done, it … hurt to lose her. Before you, she was the last person I placed under my protection.” He sniffed, saying your name. “For four hundred years, there hasn’t been anyone else I have wanted to protect. Not even Cameron. Not even when I knew his life was in danger. Because the memory of Isabel - and what she believed that mark would eventually mean was so strong.” 

He used one hand to ease your head away from his chest, tilting it to the side so that he could stare at the skin of your throat, leaving you to wonder at his thoughts. Do you regret it? Do you wish you’d asked? Do you wish you’d waited?

“Our marks of protection are all slightly different, but they all require …” He smiled briefly, raising his thumb so that the ring caught some of the light. “The right components.” You’d wanted to ask about the process but didn’t know how - especially since you didn’t have a clue where to start, so you were glad that he brought it up on his own. “It can be made from any metal, but most of us that are … ancient choose gold. It is melted down by an elder, and then some of our blood is added to the molten liquid. Even a few drops are powerful, which is why when I bit you, I pressed the sigil to your skin. I healed the space around it with my tongue, but… the metal itself healed that area… and since the metal bears the spear of House Martell… it remains on your skin, a visible reminder of just how important you are to me.” 

“I wish it was visible for me, especially after seeing Ellaria, Tyene and Toban’s reactions to it.” The words slipped out - and at the realization of their implication, you sat straight up, eyes wide. Oh, no. I didn’t mean to… Especially after what we just talked about. Now he’s going to think - 

“I wish you could see it too. But for right now … you can feel it.” He reached for you again, fingers trailing over your skin and sending heat throughout your body. And when he positioned his hand the same way he had the night he’d marked you, you gasped at the surge of warmth, the corners of his mouth lifting briefly as he gauged your reaction. “I’d almost forgotten what it feels like.” He leaned closer, curling his fingers slightly. “This is a good reminder.” Of what? 

There were plenty of ways to interpret his words, but you chose to take them at face value - that he was simply happy to be around someone that understood the significance of what he’d given them - and didn’t try to take things a step further or ask for clarification. Even though I want to, and he has to know it by now. “I’m glad something good came out of this mess.” Letting the blanket drop, you pulled one hand free, raking your fingers through his hair. “Even something small.” 

“It is not small, believe me.” He let go of your throat, his hand dropping to your shoulder and squeezing. “But I still have not told you about Cameron, and that’s what I promised to do.” 

“We don’t have anywhere to be tomorrow. I can sleep in.” He smiled at that, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “But yes. Tell me about him, please. And maybe something about Toban, too. Because -” 

“Toban means well. He always has. And while I wouldn’t call it jealousy, because it’s clear he would do anything for her, the connection that Ellaria has with him has … started to bother me more as the years pass.” He rolled his eyes. “Our gifts are another thing that isn’t guaranteed, but depending on your lineage, they’re more or less likely. With Ellaria, they are very likely, since she’s one of the first.” 

You’d assumed that to be the case about her age, but with the confirmation, you realized just how special your circumstances  were - and how lucky Oberyn was. Because she barely saved him. And so anyone younger might not have. 

“Ellaria can see the past via touch. Toban’s ability is to read situations and circumstances like no one I have ever met before. Tyene … well, she is able to convince anyone to do just about anything, and doesn’t hesitate to tell you what she thinks about it.” 

You grinned at the admission, lifting a brow. “I’m not surprised by that, especially after the way she greeted me for the first time.” 

He smiled, too, the man nodding. “Her treatment of you is how I knew she accepted you, but I was surprised that she did it as quickly as she did.” 

“I like her, Oberyn. I’m glad that Ellaria turned her. She fits well with the two of you…. And Toban.” Dropping your hands to settle them in your lap, you cocked your head to the side. “What is your gift, though? You must have one, if the three of them do.”

“Nothing as exciting as seeing the past or knowing the future or the power of persuasion.” He sighed, the rise and fall of his chest a strange sight. “My… gift is also somewhat of a curse. The depth of my humanity is what I carry with me, no matter how much I’ve tried to ignore it sometimes. Despite my hesitation when it comes to getting attached, when it happens … I cannot help the way it makes me feel… and act, when the situation calls for it.” 

“How is that a curse?” 

“I haven’t been a human in 2,000 years. At that age, most of us have long since forgotten what it’s like to experience things the same way humans do. But I have never been able to disassociate from that part of myself entirely. I’ve tried to, but it has never worked for long.” He closed his eyes, pausing. “And that brings me to Cameron.” 

“I’m going to stay quiet, Oberyn, and just let you talk. Because if I interrupt, I’ll -” 

“Thank you. There aren’t many that know this full story, so…” He slipped a hand under the blanket and then under your top, his large palm pressed to your side. “That will help.” 

You didn’t know what to expect when it came to the man’s story, but once he started speaking, you were enraptured - and wouldn’t have wanted to interject without his encouragement. 

“Ellaria and I have done many things throughout the years to earn a living, finding ways to adapt to the times at hand and use current events to our advantage. Some of the stories about our kind are true, but there are others that aren’t. For example, some of us are quite persuasive, like Tyene, but we can’t just … bend people’s minds to our will without a second thought. Luckily, by the time I was turned, Ellaria had already amassed quite a fortune that she kept secret. Her name may have been Sand then, yet she was anything but poor. Those funds, along with what I was able to take away from my own family’s vaults throughout the years were more than we needed.” 

He hummed, glancing down at you and then back out at the skyline, and you used the opportunity to take in his profile, parts of his face silhouetted in shadow, though it only made him more appealing. 

“At the time I met Cameron, Ellaria and I were operating a network of Speakeasies on the East Coast. It was good money, easy money. And it was simple for us to attract visitors, because almost everyone was looking for a place to drink and socialize where they could be themselves in every way.” 

You didn’t need clarification on that. When it came to Oberyn, excess was the norm, and he’d never been one to hide his true nature, or his desires. Sex and alcohol and freedom? People must have loved them back then. He stroked over your skin with his fingertips, humming low in his throat before he continued. 

“Cameron was … special. He visited one of our locations in The Bowery, and caught my eye from across the room. I had two beautiful women in my lap and he still devoured me with his gaze as though they were not there at all. His confidence was… alluring. He wasn’t shy about what he wanted, and I liked that. We began a relationship, and I quickly realized that I cared for him, despite promising myself that I would keep things … loose. I did travel a lot, between locations, and Ellaria often filled in in my absence, so he got to know her, too.” 

Oberyn lowered his head and rested it against yours, collecting himself. “Many like us came to America then, to take advantage of the rapidly expanding cities and the nightlife. There was a group - the one Toban told you about? From Braavos? They were also attempting to operate in the same market as we were, and it got … contentious.” 

You weren’t surprised because Toban had given you a heads up, but that didn’t make the story any easier to hear. He’s been through so much. He’s had to adapt over and over and it’s still happening. 

“I wanted to be sure that Cameron was safe, and since he knew what I was, it was a little easier. We trained together. He stayed close to me when I traveled. I told him what to look for when it came to potential attempts on his life. The sell swords attacked one of our clubs one night, burning it to the ground because they thought we were there … and that is when Cameron and I disappeared for a while. We needed to lay low, and it was during that time that he asked me to protect him with my mark. But I was hesitant, and you know why.” 

“I do.” You mumbled the words, agreeing. “And I know how hard it probably still was for you to tell him no.” 

“Punishing Cameron for Isabel’s behavior was unfair of me, and I know it. I knew it then, but that changed nothing. He asked me - repeatedly, why I would not protect him if I claimed to love him. All I could say was that I had never before used the mark as a last resort, and I didn’t want to start with him. There were many Others from Braavos, but they were clumsy, and I thought … I thought my presence would be enough. But Cameron got tired of me telling him no, and so he turned to Toban, who was spending a lot of time with Ellaria then, and one thing led to another.” 

“Would … would the bond he felt with Toban because of the mark have changed if you’d turned him later? How does that work?” 

“I do not know.” He shook his head, the man’s frown deepening. “For many, offering the mark is the precursor to offering them a second life. It is … I don’t think I have ever come across someone that is protected by one and a Child of another. But in Cameron’s case, it wouldn’t have mattered. He grew to resent me in the months following Toban’s decision, and his final request of me was just a last effort to make me choose.” 

“Were he and Toban -” 

“No, they were never together. Not to my knowledge, anyway. Toban marked him because time was running out, and it was either that or watch me lose someone else I cared for before I was ready, because they would have eventually killed him. It was only a matter of time. He turned him because after the mark, the two of them became close, since Cameron wanted less and less to do with me. After your first, it … I’m told that it becomes less likely that the bond is so strong between a Maker and a Child, so to Toban, it was as simple as granting a request. Cameron told me what was happening, and then the two of them left and were out of touch for twenty years.” 

You found it hard to believe that Toban had been out of touch with Ellaria for so long, but stayed quiet, thoughts buzzing in your head. Oberyn’s differing use of his mark of protection through the years was staggering - from overusing it to not using it to choosing to use it sparingly to only offering it when the possibility of forever was on the table, but denying it to someone that was in immediate danger. And then there’s me. How do I factor into this? “You never considered turning Cameron?”

“Not once. I did love him. We were close. He knew me well, and we were happy together, but it wasn’t … I never felt the same as I did with Isabel, and that was a problem for me. He’s happy now, I’ve seen him once since he became one of us, but … the bond between us does not exist anymore. And as upset as I was with Toban at the time, his … interference was for the best. It kept Cameron alive, and it kept me from being forced to make a decision that I would have regretted later.” 

You couldn’t help it - stifling a yawn in the middle of his words, one hand rising to cover your mouth and hide it. Shit. “I’m sorry, Oberyn. It’s just that it’s late, and you’re comfortable, and -”

“It is. And I am.” He laughed quietly, the sound rumbling through his chest. “I am almost done, and then I will take you to bed.” Wait, what? “To sleep,” he clarified, lips finding your temple. “I just need to explain my feelings toward Toban, and then … then you will understand more.” 

“Before you do that, I have something to ask.” Leaning back, you looked up as he stared down at you, the man nodding twice. “Tyene offered to change me if you wouldn’t. Toban said that he was glad things wouldn’t be the same with me as they were with Cameron, and that he looked forward to getting to know me when this was over … why? They’ve known me for a few days, and they’re already acting like I’m going to be around for a long time, and that they want it to happen.” 

“They’re my family. They understand that everything going on right now is … fluid. But the fact that I acted so quickly and definitively with you, despite you being in no danger from any Others … it tells them everything they need to know about my feelings.” It was an answer, but only a partial one - though it would have to be enough. Because there are more important things to worry about. 

“What if there are Others working with the Lannisters that Tyrion doesn’t know about? What if that’s a surprise? What if -”

“That is nothing to worry about. It is a rule set by our Elders that we give the Lannisters nothing. They’ve been trying to figure out how our blood works for centuries, and have offered unbelievable sums of money for assistance. But despite the fact that not all of the Others have a vendetta against them like mine or Ellaria’s, no one is willing to help them, because it means they’d be completely cut off if they lived long enough… and survived my retaliation against them.” 

Toban’s words - no one would dare cross the Red Viper - echoed in your mind, and despite yourself, you shivered. If he has that much power over the entire community, then … then the fact that I’ve been accepted by him means even more than I thought it did. “I’m glad to hear it. And soon, helping the Lannisters won’t be something any of you have to worry about.” 

“No, it won’t be.” He hummed and then squinted, though you knew that his vision was perfect. “The sun will start to rise in about 40 minutes, so I’m going to make this quick.” Quietly encouraging him to continue, you squeezed his bicep. “I have denied myself very little in my first life… or in this life. But I am consciously denying myself the connection that we have with our first. Over and over, I have had the opportunity to choose someone to fill that role, and I have walked away every time. Toban was Ellaria’s first, and the bond they have … as much as I want to experience that, it hasn’t ever felt right.  She turned him with nothing but love for him in her heart, and I … I’ve already told you what I feel. The hate. The rage. The sadness. They are not all I feel, but they are always there, like a shadow. Making someone an offer of eternal life shouldn’t come with the burden of those things.” 

No, it shouldn’t. “Only you can decide what the right time is, or who the right person is, Oberyn. And you told me the other night that once this is over? You might be able to make that offer to someone. I want that for you. And whoever it is is going to be the luckiest person in the world, because you -” 

“No.” Using one hand, he turned your face toward his, the corners of his mouth lifting in a tiny smile. “I will be the luckiest man on this planet if they say yes.” Oberyn kissed you softly, his lips parted so that your lower one fit between them. 

He didn’t say you, don’t get your hopes up. But it was impossible not to - all of Oberyn’s words and explanations aligned with his actions and your presence in his life, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe that he was referring to you when he mentioned an after for someone. 

“I do not hate Toban. I could never truly despise someone that holds such a large portion of Ellaria’s heart. But he has something I haven’t been able to seriously consider for myself, and seeing him … and them together is a reminder of that.” 

You kissed him when he was done speaking, puckered lips trailing over his and then to his cheek, pausing over the space where his dimple appeared each time he smiled and then moving back to his mouth. You lingered there, wanting to deepen it, but Oberyn decided for you, shaking his head and leaning back. “We need to go inside. If I get carried away with you out here, the sun will not be pleasant.” 

“Of course.” Pushing yourself to your feet, you kept the blanket wrapped around you, staring down at where he still sat. “Plus, unless I missed something in the last few hours, you and Ellaria haven’t had enough time to take care of what you need to, so… getting carried away isn’t an option.” 

“We have not.” He stood, too, reaching out to put an arm around your shoulders. “But there are other things that you and I could do that would make me lose track of time.”

“Yeah?” Feeling bold, you slid your arm around his back, hand landing on his hip and your fingertips slipping beneath the waistband of the pants he wore. “Are any of those possible in that bedroom with the drapes shut?” 

“If you’re not too tired, we can find out.” 

You were exhausted, but his words sent a jolt of adrenaline through you, your eyes moving to the partially open door. I’ll never be too tired to find out with you, Oberyn. What you’d discussed had likely taken a lot out of him, but you never would have known based on the way he led you back into the bedroom and then fluidly worked to secure the door and drapes - ensuring that not even a sliver of sunlight would leak through when it rose. 

You went into the bathroom while he did that, taking a few moments when you’d finished to stare at yourself in the mirror. You could feel the mark he’d given you - a dull thrum against the side of your throat, and even though you knew it wouldn’t do any good, you leaned in and squinted at your reflection. I know what it’s supposed to look like, but I really wish I could see it just once. 

And you didn’t even mean as a result of being turned - though if that were the case, you’d be able to see it any time you looked into the mirror. I just mean … Swirling your fingertips slowly over your skin, you sighed. I want to see what he sees.

A knock at the door startled you. When it pushed open a few seconds later, Oberyn peaking around the edge, you straightened up and smiled. “You can come in. I guess.” 

He stepped inside, leaving the door open behind him. Oh, he took his shirt off. “The room is ready. We will be able to rest for as long as we need to.” 

“What do you do while I… while the person you’re in bed with is sleeping?” You watched his expression in the mirror, both of Oberyn’s eyebrows shooting upward. “You don’t really sleep, so -”

“I do need rest. When it’s a human I’m with, my body just sort of goes into a … meditative state. I’m still alert and aware in case of danger, but if someone were to see me, they’d think I was asleep.” He stepped behind you, extending his arms so that he could grip the edges of the counter on either side of your body. “You have seen me actually sleep, though. After the Mountain? My body was doing everything possible to heal, and that meant being truly unconscious.” 

Oberyn pressed his chest to your back, never breaking eye contact with your reflection. “So it’s like a recharge. Even though you technically don’t need it, you still… keep up appearances.” 

“I do.” He nodded, turning his head to press his lips to the angle of your jaw. “When I have a reason to.” I’m the reason right now? “I also must admit to something.” He kissed you again, mouth moving closer to your ear. “In the last few days, I have spent more than a few hours just watching you sleep.” 

“Creep.” But you felt your entire body growing warm at his words, a sharp inhale of breath your only response when he let go of the counter and wound his arms around you to pull you even closer. “Oberyn.” 

“I have been trying to figure out what it is about you that has drawn me in so quickly.” He hummed, the man pushing your shirt up and gliding his fingers over your skin. “Why I was so … moved to do whatever it took to protect you, even when I was … impaired and hadn’t had the urge to give that gift to anyone in hundreds of years.” 

“Does the why matter?” Sighing as he stroked the skin beneath your belly button, you tipped your head back, resting it against his shoulder. “It doesn’t to me, because whatever the reason, it means … you’re in my life now, and I’m in yours. Whatever that means going forward is something that we’ll have to figure out, but …” Closing your eyes you took a deep breath, pressing your lips together. “Do you regret what you did? Do you wish you hadn’t been -”

“No.” It was almost a growl, Oberyn’s palm flattening against your belly, the other one moving up your body and sliding beneath the neckline of your shirt so that he could settle it over your heart. “I regret the timing, yes, and not being able to explain what I wanted to do beforehand… but when it comes to choosing you?” He nuzzled against the side of your face, his upper lip curling. “There is no regret.” 

It made you feel better. 

When you turned your head toward him, he was waiting, the man’s lips already parted so that he could pull yours between them, the scrape of his teeth making you groan. Reaching up, you used one hand to grip his hair, fingers twisting in the silver-streaked locks. He pressed harder on your chest, and once again, you knew he was monitoring your heartbeat. But this time, it’s not because he’s afraid it’s too slow. 

He kissed you harder, his mouth moving with yours - and the hand on your abdomen moved lower, the tips of his fingers skimming the waistband of your sweats. You whimpered then, Oberyn  swallowing the sound - but it only seemed to encourage him. Wait, though. Wait because … 

Pulling away from him with a gasp, you let out a shuddering breath, and were unsurprised to see mischief in his eyes, one of his brows raised. “Can, um…” Fighting to catch your breath, you chewed on your lower lip and wrinkled your nose. This is stupid. “Can they hear us? I know this is a big apartment, but …”

To his credit, Oberyn didn’t outright laugh at you. Instead he just murmured your name and leaned in to kiss you, his fingers curling slightly. “Our hearing is very good, yes. But with age and experience, we are able to … tune things out. It becomes like background noise for us unless we’re actively listening. I cannot say that they won’t all know that something is going on in here because of your heartbeat or any noises we make, but I can assure you that Ellaria and Toban are quite occupied themselves, and Tyene is more like a teenager than you know.” 

“Doesn’t want to hear either of her parents having sex? Got it.” You grinned at that, feeling marginally more at ease. “I just didn’t want to be rude, Oberyn. I know you’ll tell me that I’m worrying for nothing, but …” 

“I certainly haven’t been listening to them, I can promise you that.” The look in his eyes changed briefly, but then he was focused on you again, the intensity back. “If it makes you uncomfortable, I understand.” You considered his words for a few seconds, breaking eye contact and then closing both of yours. 

Everything you knew about Oberyn Martell - from Westerosi history books and actually meeting him in person - told you that while he had very few limitations when it came to his behavior, he was considerate of others when the situation called for it. 

He wouldn’t force you to do anything, and his honesty about the fact that three supernatural beings also in the apartment could probably hear everything happening was proof that you had a choice about whether or not to move forward. But they all already know how he is. They know how he feels, and how I feel, and …  

“I want this, Oberyn.” His hold on you tightened, and when you lifted your head again to lock eyes with him in the mirror, you nodded twice. “But, the first time we’re actually together? I’d prefer if it was just the two of us, you know?”

“Of course.” The hand at your chest dropped a few inches, Oberyn’s wrist caught on the neckline of your shirt as he palmed one breast. “No one to listen. No one to interrupt. No one to …” He pressed his lips to your cheek and then moved them down, kissing the space just beneath your ear and then against the column of your throat. “No one to make either of us leave that bed before we’re ready.” 

You moaned at that - the sound loud, and when he latched his lips against your skin and sucked, you did it again, not caring at all who was listening. He wasn’t biting you, but part of you wished that he would - and you didn’t know what exactly that said about you. “I can’t wait.” The thought of you and Oberyn - uninterrupted and in a bed together, the man finally able to give you what you both desperately wanted - was enough to make your knees shake. 

But he kept you upright, releasing your skin and then smiling against it as he continued to kiss his way forward. “On that night,” he whispered, lips moving over the part of your collarbone that was exposed, “on that night, I am going to kiss every single part of you that I marred when I was not well.” 

“Oberyn, you don’t have to -”

“It is not for you.” He shook his head, the hand at your waist sliding marginally lower while the one on your chest moved in a slow circle, one fingertip circling your nipple. “It is for me. And it is the only way I can begin to forgive myself.” You knew that telling him that you’d already forgiven him was unnecessary - he’d made the decision to make up for what he’d done, and you couldn’t sway him. “But for now…” He took a step forward, the small movement aligning your thighs with the edge of the counter. “This is for you.” 

He removed his hand from beneath your shirt and then used both of his to pull it upward, the man silent as he moved. Raising your arms to allow him to fully remove it, you let out a shuddering breath at the sight of your bare torso in the mirror, watching as he wrapped his arms around you again. He’s just watching me. Watching … us. 

The heat of his body was soft against your skin, the man’s palms warmer where they pressed to it - but you were focused on the intensity of his gaze, his eyes following the movement of his fingers as he touched you. “Oberyn, what are …” You gasped when his right hand slid down your stomach, fingers gliding beneath your waistband again - but instead of continuing down, he held it there, humming appreciatively. “You seem pleased with yourself, Prince Oberyn.” 

That got a laugh out of him, the smile spreading across his face as he palmed your chest with his other hand. But when Oberyn said your name next, there was no trace of laughter in his voice. Instead, it was low and full of want, his eyes blazing in the mirror’s reflection. “You’ll be pleased in a few minutes, too. That is a promise.” 

 You managed little more than a quiet sigh in response, but you nodded, never taking your eyes off of him. He was pressed against you from behind, the man’s body firm, and when he used one foot to nudge yours apart, you moved. Not much - just enough to widen your stance for him. Please touch me, Oberyn. Please, just … 

Reaching up with one hand, you dragged your fingers through the hair laying against the nape of his neck as you finally turned your head toward him, your upper body twisting slightly. It was enough to allow you to kiss him, your mouth pressed to his as your fingers curled. 

Despite his age and his circumstances - and the fact that your friends had the element of surprise, you knew that nothing was promised beyond the moments you were living in. Especially for me, you thought as you continued to kiss him, lips parting in a signal to him that you wanted more. Because out of everyone, I’m the only one without a contingency plan or immortal blood. 

He must have noticed a change in your heartbeat, because Oberyn pulled away moments later, his frown deep. “What is wrong? Do you want me to stop?” 

“No. I don’t.” Closing your eyes, you bit down on your lower lip. “I’m just … so much could go wrong, Oberyn. And I’m scared that I’ll lose you before …” You pulled your hand from his head, using it to cover your mouth. Just say it. “I’m scared that I’ll lose you before I can really get to know you. Or that something will happen to me, and then…” And then you’ll lose someone else you care about earlier than planned. 

“You will not lose me.” He leaned in, running his nose along your temple. “Not during this conflict, and definitely not tonight.” He kissed you then, lips landing on the corner of one eye. “And nothing is going to happen to you… nothing that you don’t like, anyway.” You felt his smile, the man pausing before he spoke again - that time, directly into your ear. “Let me take care of you, issa ōños.” 

You knew it was Valyrian, but you didn’t know what he’d said - and didn’t want to stop him and ask, especially when his hand moved even lower, the edges of his nails dragging against your sensitive skin and making your hips jerk backward into his. He was hard and made no effort to conceal that from you, Oberyn bending one knee and sliding that foot between both of your legs so that you could feel the length of him against the back of your hip. 

It also stabilized you, your lips curving into a tiny smile at the realization. But that was cut off when he kissed you again, Oberyn’s lips crushing yours with what you could only describe as a slight desperation. You have nothing to prove to me, Oberyn. Nothing at all. 

The hand on your chest moved upward, palm pausing over your heart for long moments as the kiss continued, desperation turning into something like need as he felt the steady - though elevated - beat of it. He nodded once without breaking the kiss, and when you circled your hips slowly, leaning the weight of your upper body into his, Oberyn was ready. 

He licked into your mouth, the drag of his tongue long and slow. It took you a few seconds to realize that he’d dropped his hand again, slipping his fingers between your legs and curving them - the breadth of them pressed against the apex of your thighs. His touch was welcome, and when he stroked you with one long finger, you moaned into his mouth, your hand rising again to let your fingers tangle in his hair. 

He continued with only one finger, though he sped up after a minute or so, the man not doing anything but touching you until he broke the kiss to let you breathe. You gasped a breath into your lungs, eyes squeezed shut, and when Oberyn’s hand moved upward from your chest and to your throat, you let it out shakily at what you knew was coming. 

He made contact with the mark on your neck at the same time one finger slipped into you, Oberyn humming as you breathed out his name, the sound so quiet that only someone with his hearing would have known. Your muscles clenched around his finger, your body accommodating him immediately - though you wanted more, and knew that he’d want you to say so. 

You opened your mouth to tell him, turning your head just enough so that you could steal a quick kiss, but when your lips met, you felt the sharp sting of his teeth - the man nicking your lip and then snapping his head back before you could even react. His fangs are out. Is that new or has it been that way every time we’ve been close like this? “I am sorry, I didn’t mean to -”

“Don’t apologize for what you are, Oberyn.” You dragged your tongue slowly over the area he’d bitten, your tongue coming away coated in the tang of copper. You met his eyes again - directly that time, and not in the mirror - and shook your head without looking away. “I can handle it, and I want to.” It was the truth - you needed him to know that no part of him or who he was or what he wanted frightened you or made  you uncomfortable in any way, and that you trusted him to toe the line of safety with you in every situation. “Can…” Swallowing, you nodded. “Can I see?” 

He hesitated but it was brief. Oberyn’s hand dropped from your neck back to your upper chest, the motion of his other hand paused, too. “Yes. You can.” He opened his mouth again, tipping his head back and baring his teeth - and you watched as his fangs descended, the sharp points coming into view with no change in his expression. Oberyn stayed still, the man’s eyes on your face as you stared at what he was showing you. 

They were beautiful - much like the rest of him was - and without thinking about it, you raised your hand slowly, fingertips caressing his cheek as your thumb hovered just in front of his open mouth. “Does it hurt?” You spoke quietly, wondering what he felt in the rhythm of your heartbeat. “When they come down?”

“No.” He prodded at one with the tip of his tongue, your eyes following the movement. “It never has.” You wanted to touch one of them - to press the pad of your thumb against the point, testing the sharpness, but had no idea if that would be crossing the line of acceptability. “People used to fear them, even after I told them what I was. I became … adept at keeping them hidden. At not letting my natural reaction to … others allow them to be visible.” 

“So they come out when you’re turned on?” Arching a brow, you grinned at him again. “Good to know.” The edge of your nail caught on his lower lip, and then Oberyn snapped his teeth at you, playfully nipping at it before turning his head to kiss the inside of your wrist with a lingering press of his lips. “Oberyn.” You got his attention with a single word, his gaze rising to lock with yours again. “You have my permission to … bite me if that’s what you want.” 

It sounded stupid coming from you - the words leaving your lips and echoing in the small space. But he probably needs to hear it, because he was so afraid I’d be mad or off-put and … I’m not. “Is it what you want?” 

He pulled you closer to his body, Oberyn’s fingers curling against your core, and you nodded in return. “Yes. I want you, and that urge is a part of who you are, so… it is.” His eyes flashed at your admission, the man’s pupils widening - and then he was kissing you again, none of the previous restraint present. 

Instead, he took the lead, his mouth pressed to yours with some force as the hand between your legs began to move again. But that time, Oberyn went with two fingers, much as he had done in the safehouse. It felt better - your body’s immediate reaction to cant your hips forward over and over into his touch, chasing the pressure of the heel of his hand on each backstroke. 

He bit your lip again before he moved his mouth to your jaw, the points of his teeth scraping over it and then dragging along your cheek, the man’s plush lips trailing a second path over your heated skin. 

Closing your eyes and breathing hard, you angled your head away and gave him a better route to your neck, knowing full well that he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the mark - but still wanting his mouth on it, wanting to feel the heat of his lips as the effect of the claim he’d made on you coursed through your body. Not a claim, you reminded yourself as he bit on your earlobe before releasing it. A promise. A reminder that he wants to keep me safe. 

And Oberyn did press his lips to your mark moments later, along with a twist of his wrist that left his fingers buried in you but also allowed him to circle his thumb over the spot just above them, your hips jerking back once more. His kiss burned, the connection between you electric in its intensity, and you forced your eyes open, watching what was going on in the mirror. 

It was a sight you’d never forget - one of his hands pressed so tightly to your chest that your flesh dimpled beneath it, the other hidden beneath the sweats you still wore, the motion of the fabric over the movement of his fingers and the flex of the muscles in his wrist and forearm something that you could have watched for hours. 

But it was his head that you focused on, the crown of dark curls streaked with silver repositioned after only a few seconds and giving you a view of his brow and nose as he moved away from your throat and back to the place where your neck met your shoulder. 

You didn’t even notice your own bare skin - chest on full display in the warm light of the vanity fixture - because you were so focused on him and what he was doing. But nothing could have prepared you for Oberyn raising his eyes and turning his head so that he could rest his chin on your shoulder. 

He curled his fingers inside of you at the same moment he smirked, and then he opened his mouth, letting you watch as his fangs descended once more. He’s going to … Oh, he’s… 

You knew it was coming and yet you were still unprepared for the way it felt the moment he sunk his teeth into your skin, the man’s low moan at the taste of you sending a shiver of pleasure throughout your entire body. Your first instinct was to close your eyes but you forced yourself to keep them open, watching as your mouth dropped open, lips forming his name though you didn’t speak it out loud. 

He didn’t actually drink from you the same way he had the first night. Instead, Oberyn sipped slowly, timing the swallows with the strokes of his fingers, your body following his lead. You lifted one hand and laid it over the one he had on your chest, using the other one to grip the edge of the counter even though it was unnecessary. 

You wanted to watch - wanted to see the exact moment you fell apart from his touch and his mouth, but instead of doing that, you closed your eyes and let yourself relax into him, the man supporting your weight, even as your hips continued to move in tandem with his hand. 

There was pressure building in your lower belly - the result of his touch and his bite, and if you could sense it, you knew that he likely could, too. But I haven’t touched him. I haven’t … he hasn’t… You groaned, forcing your eyes open and saying his name, the man looking up without pulling his mouth away from your skin. His eyes were dark - the pupils so wide that you couldn’t tell where they ended, and there was a tiny trickle of blood at one corner of his mouth that made you gasp when you saw it. That’s my … oh, shit. 

But it didn’t deter you, and when you spoke moments later, your voice was low, though you heard the certainty in your tone. “Touch yourself, Oberyn. I know you want to.” 

His eyes rolled back and then he shut them, pulling the hand on your chest out from beneath yours as he sucked on your shoulder, and then you felt that hand slide down your body before it joined the other one between your legs. What the fuck is he… 

Before you could even finish your thought, Oberyn deftly replaced his first hand with the second, never missing a beat in the rhythm of his touch. Oh, he’s … oh, shit. Humming, you watched as he removed the first hand - his fingers glistening with your slick - and drew it back between your bodies, pushing the pants he wore down so that he could do what you’d told him to.  

He grunted against your skin and then you felt him move - stroking himself slowly, the man’s knuckles brushing against your back and hip. He sped up the motion of his other hand, and you glanced down, catching a glimpse of what was going on behind you - his large hand wrapped around his length, lower body pulled away from yours enough to give him the space he needed to glide easily. 

You had no idea what a vampire’s release would be like - or if it would be anything at all - but before you could dwell on the thought, Oberyn’s thumb found a sweet spot again, the man pressing down against your skin before circling slowly, another prolonged suck on your shoulder making you gasp. 

It was almost too much - definitely more than you’d experienced with him the first time he’d touched you, but at the same time, it was nowhere close to being enough. Will it ever be? You wondered as you forced your eyes to stay open, gaze focused on the flex of the tendons in his wrist and the way the length of him looked - tip flushed, the rest of him and his hand coated in you. 

Without warning, Oberyn released your shoulder and lifted his head, and you let out a moan at what he left behind - a double set of puncture wounds on your skin, thin trails of blood oozing from them and more of the same coating his lower lip. He looked almost drunk, his eyelids heavy, and for a few seconds, you thought he was going to stay like that… but you were wrong. 

“Give me your hand.” Voice low, he made the demand, Oberyn’s tongue cleaning the blood from his mouth. “Over mine.” Ducking his head, you felt as he kissed the place he bit once more, followed by the drag of his tongue, which felt almost as good as the bite itself. But you moved your hand at the same time, making a guess that he wasn’t asking for help touching you and reaching back so that you could wrap your fingers over his mid-stroke. 

He grunted at your touch, and before you could question him further, it was your hand resting against his skin, Oberyn’s larger one securely atop yours and guiding you. He was warm against your palm, the heft of him large but not uncomfortable, and as you took over, Oberyn’s focus shifted back to the hand he had between your legs, the speed of those thrusts increasing, as did the pace of his thumb. 

It felt amazing  - better than anything that had ever been done to your body before, and Oberyn knew it, the man’s smile turning lazy as he focused on the mirror. “Normally I would prolong this,” he murmured, mouth moving along your skin. “To see how long you could remain right on the edge.” No, please. Not tonight. I just want … “But that is not what either of us needs tonight.” He sighed, mouthing at the base of your throat and then parting his lips to bite again - that time without his fangs. “Tonight you just need me.” 

It was the truth - and it didn’t matter how or why he knew it, and so you nodded, swallowing and tipping your head back as you paused your hand long enough to swirl your thumb over his head, the man twitching at the touch. Squeezing once in agreement, you then resumed your movement - and Oberyn changed his, holding his fingers still inside you while the third kept moving - the pace increasing. 

“Oberyn!” You cried out, your voice much louder than you’d anticipated, but it only encouraged him, the muscles in your abdomen tightening as your toes curled, Oberyn’s hand squeezing yours once more before releasing it. He moved that hand up to your chest again, the weight of his touch grounding you and holding you tight against his body. Even though your eyes snapped closed, you knew why he was touching you there - knew what he was searching for. And I hope he likes it, you thought even as your lips fell open in a series of pants, breath shaky. My fucking heart is racing, and … 

“There it is,” he whispered, followed by a quiet hum of approval. “There you go.” 

You fell apart moments later, your body nearly convulsing at his touch - your free hand slapping against the countertop as the one you had on him stuttered in its motion, grip tightening. Your muscles clenched around his fingers, and Oberyn kept them still, the man swearing in another language - one that you didn’t recognize before turning to kiss the underside of your jaw, the press of his lips against the pulse in your neck welcome. 

He eased you through it, his touch lengthening your orgasm, but once the haze of pleasure had begun to subside, you took a deep, shaky breath and used the hand on the counter to touch his wrist, stopping the motion. Stop. Stop, Oberyn. “Let me turn around, Oberyn.” 

He slipped his fingers from inside of you, but didn’t pull his hand free from beneath your sweats. You let him go long enough to turn and face him, knees wobbly and your chest heaving, but when you met his eyes, you saw understanding in them. “Are you -”

“Be quiet.” Wetting your lips, you shook your head. “Be quiet and let me take care of you now.” His eyes flashed but he didn’t speak, and when you touched him again, your grip was certain - your confidence growing with each passing second. 

He crowded you against the counter again, and without thinking, you maneuvered yourself so that you were sitting on the edge of it, legs spread so that Oberyn could step between them. It gave you better access, and when you reached up with your free hand, gripping the hair at the back of his neck and urging him to kiss you, Oberyn didn’t hesitate. 

It was a deep kiss, Oberyn’s  tongue seeking entrance to your mouth immediately, and as he kissed you, his hips began to rock forward, the tiny thrusts forcing more of him through your grip. He held you with both hands - one of them pressed to the center of your back, the other one gripping the back of your neck and holding you in place, but despite the power behind it, his grip was gentle. 

You felt his fangs again when he bit on your lower lip but he didn’t pierce the skin, and when you gasped, the sound turning into a moan moments later, Oberyn groaned too, his hips moving faster. He broke the kiss, humming out your name. “I am close. I… where do y-”

“Anywhere.” Pressing a kiss to his lips, you shook your head. “Anywhere, Oberyn.” He grunted at your words but didn’t speak again, and when Oberyn kissed you hard, mouth sealed over yours, you knew that close meant imminent. 

Your heart racing again, you swirled your thumb over his tip and squeezed, the speed of your hand increasing as Oberyn’s lips parted, though he didn’t pull back from you. Forcing your eyes open, you tilted your head down to stare between your bodies, twisting your wrist so that when he came, it would hit your belly - and that change was all he needed, the man pulsing in your hand as he followed you over the edge. 

It coated your skin, pearly streaks hitting your stomach, the volume increasing with each stroke of your hand until he was nearly shuddering in your grip, Oberyn’s muscles twitching though he didn’t seem to have any trouble staying on his feet. “Fuck.” He swore, the sound beautiful to your ears. “You just … you are …” 

“Hold that thought, Prince Oberyn.” With one more stroke - and a final squeeze - you released him, fingertips trailing up his stomach until you could press your hand over his heart. It was strange to feel nothing beneath your palm, but it wasn’t difficult to imagine what it would have felt like - his chest rising and falling rapidly while he struggled to catch his breath, his lips parted as he sucked air between them. But it doesn’t matter, because he’s alive in all the ways that count. Your hand moved higher, fingers curling around the side of his throat and your thumb sliding over his jawline. “Ok, now you can finish.” 

“I just did.” He raised an eyebrow. “All over your -” You laughed, eyes closing and your chin dropping, but when Oberyn said your name, you looked back up at him. “I know you heard me earlier, heard what I called you?” Oh, he’s … Nodding, you took a deep breath and held it. “Issa ōños, it means … it means my light. And that is what you are to me, because you’ve shown me something I haven’t seen in a very long time.” 

Your heart was racing, his explanation of the words much more intimate than you’d ever expected them to be. “I have?” He nodded, both of his hands slipping down toward your waist. 

“The way forward. Hope. What it means to … care for someone again. I am beginning to see an end to the darkness I have lived with for so long.” You didn’t know what to say, and any of the things that crossed your mind seemed like too little - so you just leaned forward and kissed him gently, stroking the back of his head. When the kiss ended, neither of you said anything - but you didn’t separate, either, locked in place and holding each other, his forehead pressed to yours. We can’t stay here, though. 

“We should get cleaned up, Oberyn. I need to lay down.” Sighing, you straightened up and looked into his eyes. “And I need to … figure out how to respond to what you just said, because -”

“No. You don’t. Not yet.” He smiled, the expression understanding. “I just wanted you to know.” The man backed off, though he was reluctant to let you go. “It is important that you know.”  

He stepped away, giving you the room you needed to climb off of the counter and begin to clean up, doing the same thing beside you before pulling his pants back on. Everything he says is important. But that seems … very important. And I just … I don’t know what to think. 

Luckily for you, there was plenty of time, since you had days before the engagement party and wedding, and you weren’t involved in every aspect of the attack plan. But it can wait until I wake up. You yawned, swaying on your feet as you dried your face off with a fluffy towel, but then you felt Oberyn’s arms around you again, his mouth right next to your ear. “It’s time for bed. You can barely stand.” 

You didn’t argue, and only a few seconds later, you were horizontal on the comfortable mattress, the thick blanket covering you while Oberyn pressed against you from behind.

You were drowsy, and knew that it wouldn’t take long to fall asleep, but you forced yourself to speak one final time, clearing your throat without opening your eyes. “I know you won’t sleep, but I hope you get some rest.” He chuckled, his mouth pressed to the back of your shoulder. “I’ll see you when I wake up. I lo-” 

You stopped yourself just in time, breath catching in your throat. Oh, no. Oh, I just almost… His arm tightened around you, Oberyn pulling you as close as he could. “I will be here.” I almost just fucked everything up. I almost ruined everything. 

You were exhausted, but the racing of your heart at the near admission kept you awake for a long time. And if Oberyn noticed - which you knew that he did - he didn’t comment on it, his body still behind yours.  

“You’re serious?” You looked back and forth between them, eyes wide. “Tyene? Toban? You’re telling me that -”

“Yes. We’ve all been cooped up in here for a week, and you haven’t been anywhere for almost two aside from coming here.” The girl grinned, holding out a hand. “We’re going out tonight.” 

“But shouldn’t we -” You bit your lip, shaking your head. “Shouldn’t you two be worried about preparing for the wedding instead of worrying about babysitting a human? The engagement party is tomorrow, and…” Trailing off, you looked at Toban’s face, watching as he studied you. “That’s why we’re leaving.” 

Closing your eyes, you nodded. It’s because the party is tomorrow. “After tomorrow, we lose the element of surprise.” Tyene stepped forward, glancing at Toban. “Or at least Oberyn and Ellaria do. So between then and the wedding, things will be … harder for us. Unless we go tonight, we won’t be able to until it’s all over because they might be looking.” 

“And at that point, none of us will be hiding anymore.” Toban cleared his throat, saying your name. “So tonight, the three of us are going to leave the apartment, you are going to check in with someone that you know as proof of life, and Tyene and I are going to fuel up for what is coming.” 

That was code for find someone to drink from, though he was tactful about admitting it. “That’s not the only reason we’re leaving.” You smiled at her, nodding, even though you felt a pang in your chest. “But alright. Let me get changed. I don’t think I want my first time out and around people in such a long time to be in sweatpants.” She grinned, turning and leaving the room, though Toban remained, the man eyeing you curiously. “What? What did -”

“He expects you to be upset.” Frowning, Toban shook his head. “But you aren’t… at least in the way it would make sense for you to be.” 

“Oberyn told me about your gift.” You stood, taking a deep breath. “And you’re right, I do feel … something right now, but … two thousand years of history between them? I’ve known him for fifteen seconds in comparison. And if this is what needs to happen so that he can focus on what’s coming, there’s no way I can be mad about it.” You chewed on your lip and then shook your head. “This isn’t a shock to me, Toban. I knew it was going to happen.If anything, I’m surprised it took this long.” 

He looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead closed his eyes, nodding. He doesn’t know what to say. “How long do you need to get ready?” Toban cleared his throat. “An hour?”

“No, not even close.” Glancing around the room, you shrugged. “Twenty minutes? A half hour?” He agreed and then followed Tyene out of the room, leaving you alone. There were plenty of clothes for you to choose from, and after checking the weather on one of the TV channels, you opted for a pair of jeans and a light colored tee, pulling a cardigan over it. 

From there, you moved to the vanity, sliding onto the bench seat and reaching for the small bag of toiletries that included makeup, trying to decide whether or not you wanted to put in the effort. Not like I’m trying to impress anyone. 

“I have warned them that if anything happens to you, they will answer to me.” 

Turning your head toward the voice, you rolled your eyes when you saw Oberyn leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed. “You wouldn’t have agreed to let me leave this apartment if you thought something might happen.” He pushed off of the wall and moved toward where you sat, the man settling both hands on your shoulders. “It’ll be good to get outside, Oberyn, to be around other people again.” 

“Are we not enough?” You thought about lying and then opted not to, setting the compact you held back down as you turned your head again to look up at him. 

“It’s not that you aren’t enough. I just … I went from interacting with dozens of people every day and using all kinds of technology whenever I wanted to the confines of an apartment, no phone, and the same four faces for the last two weeks.” Aside from Clegane and Tyrion, that is. “It was a big change.” 

“You’ll be back in that world full time soon enough.” He cleared his throat. “I’m … sorry that this is what your life has become. You should not have to hide here, with us. This is not your fight.” 

“It is, though.” Eyeing yourself in the mirror, you shrugged. “It became my fight the second you kissed me at that party, Oberyn. And I’ll do whatever I can to help you win it.” Even if that means going out to a bar so that you can fuck the lingering effects of Ellaria’s blood from your system. “Besides, spending time with Toban and Tyene will be … interesting. I’m sure they’ll have a ton of stories to tell me, and with you and Ellaria out of earshot, they won’t have to worry about censoring themselves.” 

He laughed at that but didn’t speak, his eyes on you as you applied mascara. You could see his reflection in the mirror, the man’s brow furrowed, and you wondered what it would actually take for him to speak up. I’ve never seen him like this. He twisted the ring on his thumb with two fingers, still silent when you picked up another brush - but Oberyn finally broke the silence a few seconds later, his tone full of confusion. 

“You are calm. Your heartbeat is … steady.” He frowned, glancing up at the ceiling. “Yet you know what is going to happen when -”

“Oberyn.” Capping your eyeliner, you spun on the bench to face him, hands in your lap. “Yes. I know that when the three of us are gone, you and Ellaria are going to fuck.” You knew it was more than that, but being blunt was the route you chose. “You need to be clearheaded for tomorrow, and even though having the extra stamina from her blood would probably be helpful if something happens, the focus is more important.” 

“Among other things.” He mumbled the words and then held a hand out, waiting for you to take it. “I wish it did not have to be this way.” 

“Why?” He pulled you to your feet, his free hand going to your waist. “You love her, Oberyn. You haven’t seen her in a while, and this is probably the longest the two of you have ever gone in each other’s presence without jumping into bed.” Settling your hand on his chest, you said his name again. “I will never be jealous of what the two of you have. She saved your life twice that I know about, and probably countless more times between, too.” He smiled at that - just a twitch of his lips but it was there, and so you continued. “Plus, if that night in the bathroom was any indication, my pelvis and ribs wouldn’t stand a chance with you until you get that out of your system.” Arching a brow, you stared at him for a few seconds, giving your words time to land. 

You hadn’t discussed what had happened between you - or what you’d almost said - after waking up, and the following few days had been filled with planning sessions, meaning that Oberyn’s attention was divided. You’d thought about it, of course, and figured that he had, too … but you knew that he had far more important things to worry about.

But those things didn’t keep him from you in the time before you went to bed each day, Oberyn taking breaks to lay with you until you’d fallen asleep, his hand stroking over the parts of your body that he could reach and the two of you trading deep, slow kisses until your eyes closed and he had the opportunity to extricate himself, heading back into the other room with Ellaria, Toban and Tyene. 

You only knew this was the case because you’d woken up to an empty bed one night, the fear that he was gone filling you for long moments and only abating when you heard his voice from the other room, Toban’s joining in moments later. He’d always been in bed again when you woke up, though, the comforting weight of him beside you and his face the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes. 

Tyrion hadn’t come back, but packages from him had arrived throughout the week - blueprints and files, a secure phone that he’d used to call your group twice - and so you knew that he was still all in. You also knew that while the actual plan was to attack just before the wedding ceremony, there were contingencies in place in case the Lannisters acted out of character and attempted anything at the party. 

“You certainly did not complain about the way I was touching you the other night.” Narrowing his eyes playfully, he cocked his head to the side. “Or the way I used my hands.” 

“And I never would, but Oberyn, I do enjoy walking and being able to comfortably sit in chairs and breathing without pain, so … yeah. Five or six thousand years is a lot more than two, so -” Leaning in, you kissed him on the mouth, nodding. “Yes. You do what you need to do and I’m going to go and convince Toban and Tyene to let me have a couple cheap beers and the greasiest -” 

“Do you want me to stay in the other room tonight?” His hands went to your waist, all traces of humor gone from his tone. “The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable.” That threw you, and you were unable to keep your expression from changing before you got yourself under control. Oh, Oberyn. 

“I’m … not sure.” Averting your eyes, you pressed your lips together. “I don’t think I’ll be able to answer that until I get back, to be honest.”  

“Thank you. Thank you for being -”

“Oberyn, will you please stop being annoying and let her leave?” Tyene popped her head into the room, a clear look of irritation on her face. “This isn’t the inquisition, and -” He stepped backwards, pulling you with him without looking away. But Oberyn used one hand to shove the girl back into the hallway, followed by closing the door before he pressed his back to it, two quick knocks from outside immediately following. “Two minutes, Martell. Or I’m breaking this door down, and -”

“I’ll be out in one, Tyene!” Raising your voice, you cut her off before turning your full attention to Oberyn. “I’ll see you when I get back.” You contemplated telling him to have fun, but decided against it, choosing instead to lean closer, winding your arms around his neck and tucking your head in. “In one piece, too. Maybe even a little tipsy. We’ll see.” 

“We will.” He kissed the top of your head, arms snaking around your waist. “Please be careful. Stay close to them. If one of them -”

“I’ll listen to them the same way I would you.” Backing off, you nodded. “I promise. Now kiss me goodbye and let me leave, alright?” He eyed you warily, but you could see that  there was pride in his eyes, too - the man staring at you in a way no one ever had before.

His kiss took you by surprise, the press of the man’s mouth gentle, even as the tips of his fingers dug into your sides. He deepened it, Oberyn swallowing your sigh as he traced his tongue along the edges of your teeth and then let it slide past them, meeting yours. 

It wasn’t a goodbye kiss, though you could have read it as one, because you were about to walk out the front door of the apartment into an uncertain world for the first time in days. Instead, it seemed to be a promise - that even though you were leaving and he’d be going to bed with another woman that he was in love with while you were gone, he was what would be waiting when you came back. “I’ll see you in a few hours.” He spoke into your ear, his voice barely above a whisper. “Enjoy yourself.” 

He took your hand and urged you away from the door, opening it and walking down the hallway to where the other three were waiting. Toban and Tyene were dressed to leave the apartment but Ellaria looked more casual - her long hair down and trailing over her shoulders, the dress she wore loose, too. She looks … beautiful. 

“Alright.” Tyene clapped her hands together when she saw the two of you and then pointed at the door. “I need a damn drink, let’s get the hell out of here.” She grabbed your free hand as she passed, tugging you away from Oberyn without breaking stride. “Toban’s buying.” 

Two hours later, you were ready to admit that getting out of the apartment and back into the real world was exactly what you needed. 

After a short Uber ride, the three of you found yourself in Culver City - not quite close enough to your apartment to make it obvious, but in a place you were much more comfortable with than you would have been at one of the upscale downtown bars. 

You’d been on edge until you finished your first drink, constantly looking around the somewhat crowded room, fingers curled protectively around the frosty glass - but when you’d seen how at ease Tyene and Toban were, you followed suit. 

Your second drink went down smoothly, too, while you focused on a story that Toban was telling about the years he’d spent in Australia. But before you could order a third, the man stopped you, his hand settling on your arm. “We’re going to walk down the street to another place before we do anything else.” 

“Why? Is it -”

“I believe you call this bar-hopping?” He lifted his glass, saluting with it before he finished the final sips of his beer. “And there are still enough people in costume that it’s good cover.” You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Plus, I think Tyene’s got her eye on someone, so we’ll have to leave once she’s done.” 

The two of you watched as the girl flirted with a man near the bar, reaching up to tousle his hair while she laughed. Good for her. “What about you?” You focused on him, taking a breath. “See anyone here that you like?” 

“I can wait.” He drummed his fingers on the table, looking around the room. “I need less and less to survive as time passes. It’ll be good to… renew myself, but my focus right now is on you.” 

“I didn’t want this.” Shifting in your seat, you shook your head. “The last thing I want is for someone else to be responsible for me because I’m just -” A human. A weak little human who wouldn’t stand a chance against the Mountain or a vampire or something as fucking simple as getting hurt. 

“I can’t speak for her,” he interrupted, gesturing to Tyene, who’d pulled the man into a kiss. “But I’m always happy to spend time with new friends.” He laid his hand atop yours, squeezing. “Especially when they’re as special as you are.” 

“I’m just -”

“You’re not just anything. Not anymore.” Toban lifted his hand and held up one finger, the man nodding - and you only realized that he was signaling Tyene when his attention was fully back on you, his expression widening into a grin. “And now I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” He nodded again, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a phone. “What is -”

“Choose someone you trust. Not family, if you can help it… but someone that you can have a conversation with. Talk for a few minutes, and then invite them out. Invite them to meet us at a random place around here. Are you familiar with the area?” 

“Yeah.” You took the phone, turning it over in your hand. “Is there anywhere I should avoid?” 

“No. Tyene can hear what you say. She’ll head to wherever you suggest next once she finishes with her friend and wait to see if anyone … else shows up before we do. Enhanced everything is an asset to us. And when we know it’s safe, you and I will head there, too.” 

“Is this dangerous? I don’t want to risk it if … This was great. I don’t need to -”

“I heard what you said to Oberyn earlier. You need the interaction. You need to see a friendly human face.” He leaned closer. “You need more than any of us can give you right now.” He was right - and you knew it, so with a tiny nod of agreement, you averted your eyes and dialed a number you knew by heart. 

It rang twice before someone picked up, and at the sound of the voice on the other end of the line, you closed your eyes, grinning. “Nora? It’s me. I’m so sorry I haven’t called you back. Want to meet for a drink?” 

Tag list reblogs coming soon! 

[sirowsky]

The Old Prince - Masterlist

Welcome to the Dragon realm, where Oberyn Martell reigns supreme!

Summary: 6000+ year old Prince Oberyn of Ancient Egypt almost kills and eats you, but something unexpected happens instead, and before long, your quiet and unassuming life has become something entirely different. This is a slow-burn romance that features both angst and sugary sweet fluff, all in a package wrapped in horror and fantasy. Unwrap and enjoy!

Notes: This story is now complete but I always welcome requests for one shots if anyone wants to know more about these two. I love to hear from you in general, so if this story speaks to you, don't hesitate to let me know, in words, gifs or just likes, and feel free to jump into my DM's or my ask box!

FYI: I never write using the y/n format. This is my first time writing Oberyn and I haven't seen season 4 of Game of Thrones since it first aired, so I'm far from an expert on him. Also, reader undergoes physical transformations in this story, so she will not be featureless.

Part 1 - The Bite Part 2 - Fear Part 3 - Home Part 4 - The Spirit Part 5 - Nightfall Part 6 - Belonging Part 7 - Uncertainty Part 8 - The Light Part 9 - Tyrannus Part 10 - Power Part 11 - The Darkness Part 12 - Collapse Part 13 - Time Part 14 - Sacrifice

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[sirowsky-stories]

The Old Prince

So, this is my entry for the Halloween themed Pedro Pascal Writing Challenge hosted by @pedrocontestsrus Thank you for organizing this! And if anyone else is interested in entering the competition, here's a link to the post with all the info.

I chose Prompt #2 Theme: A Dark and Stormy Night. However, I suck at short, so this is basically just a teaser which I'm gonna have to continue outside of the contest.

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Warnings: Monster Oberyn Martell x Female Reader, Game of Thrones AU, obviously Halloween themed, reader cusses, reader is attacked and abducted. Also, this is my first time writing Oberyn. Word Count: 4041 Author's Masterlist

   You run at full speed despite the darkness, ignoring the burning in your lungs and the furious pounding of your heart, even though you know that he’s already gone and that your running would only scare him off if he wasn’t.    The woods have always scared you and even now, in your mid-thirties, you still panic when you’re alone among the creaking old trees, spider webs and nightly active animals, all of whom seem intent on eating you. At least, to your own imagination.

   “Damned it, Casper…” you breathlessly curse the horse for leaving you, once you’ve been forced to a stop by the pain in your lungs.

   He’s normally very brave but being in the woods in the middle of a building storm is apparently too much even for his stout heart.    So, you’re left to walk the remaining four miles to your house, and not for the first time, you find yourself wondering why the hell you’d chosen to live all the way out here, surrounded by the very woods that have always been such a source of discomfort to you.

   “Because that was all you could afford, dimwit,” you chastise yourself out loud.

   The house you now live in had been put up for sale after the previous owner had been missing for a few years and was eventually declared dead, despite her body never being found.    It’s small and old, but well maintained and very charming, so you’d been surprised to be the only one interested in it.

   You’ve lived there for over six years now and while it’s a bit secluded and a little too far from town, you do love it.    The hiking trails leading up to the seven hills that make up the east boundary of the region run right by your property, and in daylight, you love to ride or just wander up to the peaks and admire the view.

   There are rarely any larger wildlife passing through so for the most part, it’s quite safe, so long as you remember to bring water and check for lose rocks on the steeper sections of the trails.    But now, in the near pitch-black darkness of night, you can’t even recognize the trail you’re on. So, why are you even out here?

   Well, that would be because you’d started out in daylight, as usual, but then gotten involved in a search for another missing person in the hills, which had left you out there until well after nightfall.    You had of course expected Casper to bring you home safe and sound, like he usually does no matter what’s going on around him. But unfortunately, on this occasion, the horse had lost its footing and fallen to the ground.

   He’d gotten up without trouble, but since you’d no longer been on his back at that point, he’d gotten spooked, probably by the reins getting caught in his legs or something, and had taken off.    You hope that he gets home without hurting himself, but you’re also quite angry with him for not recognizing your voice and staying by your side instead of running off on his own.

   But your thoughts are disrupted by a creaking sound coming from behind you, a sound definitely not created by a tree.    You stop, feeling a cold shiver move slowly down your spine, and you know that you’re in danger. You have no idea exactly what is watching you right now, but you know that something is.

   You hear that same sound again, mere moments after the first, and even as you instinctively set off running, too panicked to even know if you’re still on the trail, your mind tries to work out what the hell that sound is.    The winds are picking up, building towards the forecasted storm that has all the kids in town excited because of how perfect it is for the Halloween celebration, but it’s making it so much harder for you to hear if something’s chasing you.

   Unable to stop yourself, you throw a look over your right shoulder, and a strangled scream escapes you when you catch a glimpse of something impossibly large and strangely shiny, and then just teeth.    You try to run faster but you can’t. The dark world around you is a blur as you wait for those teeth to sink into your flesh and torture you to death. It seems to take so long.

   And then it happens.    You’re snagged to a stop so quickly that it makes your legs lift off the ground as they’re kicked forwards by the momentum.    Something has your shoulder between its jaws, but that’s as much as you’re aware of before the world fades away and nothing exists anymore.

-=¤=-

   You wake up on a bed in a room with a strange ceiling and stone walls. You’re groggy and only half awake, so it takes you a moment to realize that there are paintings covering the ceiling, making the stones look kind of fluid.    Beautiful images of stormy seas and a red sunset flow across the domed shape, bringing it to life in a way that stone shouldn’t be capable of.

   Then you remember, and bring your left hand up to examine your right shoulder, half expecting it to just not be there. But it is, and it feels fine.    You sit up, relieved but also confused that there’s no pain, and as your bare feet hit the cold floors, your eyes are drawn to the rest of the room.    It’s round and there’s a window in every direction, revealing the daylight outside, but also every detail inside.

   The bed is easily large enough for two people, and the sheets and blankets are the softest you’ve ever felt. There’s a loveseat underneath one of the windows, with plush pillows leaned against the armrests. In the middle of the room is a carpet which you can tell just by looking at it, likely costs more than your house. And the curtains, four matching pairs, all a deep red, somehow seem both heavy and feathery light.

   There’s a door to your left, and it’s standing open, so at least you’re not a prisoner. But you don’t feel like one regardless. All of this is so strange, because you’re sure that something bit you, but you can’t find any wounds in your skin.    There are holes in your shirt, though. And where’s your jacket? Why are you barefoot?

   You head for the door and find a winding staircase leading down, so this is apparently a tower.    At the foot of the stairs is a corridor and then more stairs, twirling the other way this time, so you keep heading down, passing closed doors and empty spaces until you reach a pair of large double doors that are left wide open.

   There’s a fire crackling inside and your cold feet and bare arms have left you shivering, so you head inside, finding the biggest open fireplace you’ve ever seen, in the other end of the huge room.    It must be a ballroom or excessively large dining room, but it’s completely empty, save for a padded short stool in front of the fire.

   You sit and warm yourself, trying to think back, to remember any details that might help you understand what’s happened to you, but nothing comes to mind.    And then a movement to your right startles you to your feet.

   “My apologies, miss. I have a habit of moving quietly,” a dark and low voice says, and when you locate the man who that voice belongs to, you’re momentarily stunned into silence.

   He’s tall and broad, but quite lean, with a perfectly chiseled jaw and a beard trimmed to accentuate that. He wears no jewelry, but his dark green coat has golden threads and small embroideries on the cuffs and along the collar. Shapes too small for you to make out at ten feet of distance, but which from afar remind you of snakes.    Still, it’s his eyes that rob your brain of most its function.

 �� So dark, but also incredibly expressive. He’s curious, intrigued, but wary. As though you might pose a threat to him somehow, which seems impossible to you.

   “W-… Where are my shoes?” you manage to croak, still unable to break away from his eyes.

   “I took your shoes and your jacket to encourage you not to run away once you awoke. I’m afraid I am going to need you to remain here for the time being,” the man explains, and suddenly your brain wakes up in full.

   “So, I’m your captive, is that what you’re telling me?”

   “Yes, and no. You are my captive, as much as I am yours.”

   “What’s that supposed to mean? I have no idea who you are,” you counter, getting angry because that’s all you can do to keep from panicking.

   “My name is Oberyn, and this is my home. You’re welcome to explore as much as you like, but I would recommend staying away from the basement. Especially at night.”

   “Why? Do you have more prisoners down there you don’t want me to set free?”

   “Oh, there are cages down there, and many of them are occupied,” he says, while taking a few steps closer to you. “But I doubt that you would want to release any of the creatures that are locked inside.”

   Creatures? What the hell does he mean by that?    He’s only three feet away when he stops, just as the outside light catches his eyes at a different angle, and you can swear that you see something else within them. A bright golden shine seems to illuminate them from within for just a fraction of a second, as if reacting to the sun’s rays.

   “The tower is yours. I will not venture there without your approval for the duration of your stay.    But the rest of the castle is my domain, and you move through it at your own risk. Do you understand?” he asks, to which your anger flares.

   “Understand? No… I really don’t.    Who are you?! What is this place, where the hell am I?! There aren’t any castles anywhere near the seven hills! And what the hell was it that chased me last night, and why do I have bitemarks in my shirt but not on my skin?    What the fuck is going on?!”

   He lets you scream and rant without so much as a twitch bothering his mustache, and says nothing as you begin to pace in front of the fireplace, crossing your arms in silent defiance, but also an attempt to guard yourself against all this strangeness.

   “You were bitten by a serpent,” he quietly says, just as you’re about to give up and leave the room.

   “It was a lot bigger than any snake, and it had a lot more than two fangs,” you counter, all but spitting at him now, further angered by the notion that he might be trying to convince you that you imagined the whole thing.

   “I didn’t say that it was a snake,” he replies, and you stop pacing.

   “And what is a serpent if not a damned snake?” you challenge, but he seems unbothered.

   “Is that all it can be? You must think broader than that, young one.”

   His words make no sense to you. Serpent, snake, fucking danger noodle, it’s all the same.    And “young one”? He’s at most five years older than you.

   “Please, just tell me where we are?” you finally ask, deciding that there’s probably no point in trying to argue with this mystery man.

   He looks at you for a good minute then, as if trying to decide if he should answer, and you notice that he doesn’t blink a lot, which is surprisingly unsettling.

   “We are six hundred and nine miles from your home. Give or take a few dozen feet.”

   That takes you a second to process.

   “What!?” you almost scream, unable to take any more of this incomprehensible nonsense. “Do you honestly expect me to believe that you had a fucking helicopter hidden in the woods, or something?”

   “Take a look outside the windows,” he calmly suggests. “I’m sure the snow on the ground will help you come to terms with the truth that you are no longer as far south as you think.”

   Unwilling to take his word for it, you walk over to the nearest window, where the view makes your heart sink. Because he’s right.    Not only are there several inches of snow covering everything in sight, but you also don’t recognize the landscape at all.    And that’s when the realization of just how much trouble you’re in, finally dawns on you.

   Turning away from the window, you now meet your captor’s eyes, for the first time with fear brimming within your own. Unable to stop yourself, you try to back away from him but there’s a wall in the way, so you start moving sideways instead, heading for the open double doors of the room.    He doesn’t try to stop you, but just before you turn your back to him as you’re crossing the threshold, his expression turns incredibly sad.

   You run through the halls, fully panicking now and having no idea where you’re even going. But then another set of large double doors are in front of you, so you grab the handle on one of them and pull it open.    It’s the front entrance. You’re standing on the top ledge of another staircase, this one twisting off in both directions, leading down to a massive courtyard.

   There’s a fountain in the shape of a rearing Pegasus in the middle, so big that the lilac shrubs which surrounds it barely even reach halfway up its hindlegs. And beyond that, is a giant garden of cherry trees and rhododendron hedges, in the middle of which, a wide driveway comes straight through, right up to the courtyard.    A driveway that’s so long, you can’t even see the end of it, where it disappears into the surrounding woods.

   You couldn’t run from here even with your shoes and jacket.

   The freezing wind brushes over your exposed skin, making you shiver and wrap your arms around yourself while sorrow suddenly burns through you, bringing tears to your eyes.    But then something soft and warm falls over your shoulders and you flinch, spinning on your heels and quickly backing away, further out onto the ledge to try and get away from him, which means stepping into the icy cold snow in just your skin.

   “Please…” he says, and he sounds alluringly soft and inviting now, which only adds to your suspicions. “I have no intention of harming you.”

   “Then how about you tell me what exactly your intention is?” you counter, barely able to keep your jaws from clattering with how badly you’ve started shaking.

   He takes a deep breath and then slowly releases it, somehow looking sadder and more tired with each milliliter of air that escapes him.

   “I just… I’m sorry. Please, come back inside before you get frostbite on your feet.”

   “That’s n-not an answer,” you challenge, already trembling all over now.

   “I know, this is why I’m sorry, but how is hurting yourself going to help the situation?” he wonders, and you have to concede that it doesn’t.

   You huff once in defiance, and then step forward, allowing him to wrap the blanket around you. But you hadn’t expected him to sweep you up into his arms and carry you inside.

   “Hey, I c-can still walk, p-put me down!”

   “The floors are cold here. I will put you down once you’re in a room with a rug.”

   “Or you c-could just give me b-back my shoes,” you gripe, and he hums in what sounds like a thoughtful manner to you, as if he’s conceding that maybe he was wrong to take them from you.

   But he says nothing more, and as he carries you through the empty hallways, none of which look familiar to you because this place is apparently a damned maze, you steal a few closer glances at him.    His skin is in better condition than yours ever has been, to the point where even his stubble looks soft. And his hair looks flawless. Not one strand of the curls on his head seems damaged or less bouncy than the rest. And the same goes for his beard and mustache.

   His clothes are perfectly tailored, and they look new, but they don’t smell like it. Instead, the only smell you detect seems to be his, and it’s not at all unpleasant. Contrarily, the longer you smell him, the more inviting the scent becomes.    You’re somewhat embarrassed to realize that you’ve stopped shivering with the warmth that spreads through you from within, just from that delicious scent.

   The room that he finally turns into is small and smells of paper, reminiscent of the old bookstore in the city back home, run by a sweetheart of an old lady who also happens to be the grandmother of the missing woman who’s house you live in.    She was the only one who’d come by with a housewarming gift after you’d moved in. That’s how sparsely populated your social circle is.

   It looks to be an office, of sorts. There’s a fireplace here too, already lit and crackling warmly in the far corner of the room. To the left is a desk filled with scrolls of paper and what looks like old maps of countries you don’t recognize, and to the right are shelves filled with more scrolls, books and scraps of paper.    There’s an armchair and a small sofa in front of the fire, and he sets you down on the sofa before kneeling in front of you to inspect your wet and freezing feet.

   You’re about to argue that you’re perfectly capable of tending to your own extremities, but something about his touch stops you.    His fingers seem warmer than they should be, almost feverishly so, but more than that, his skin feels like it’s giving off tiny electric impulses where it meets yours. And the feeling is highly intoxicating.

   He quickly examines your feet and then sits back and looks up at you again, where a curious expression flashes across his features as he notices that you’re suddenly a bit out of it. He seems concerned at first, and then… is he blushing?

   “If I get you your socks and your boots, will you promise me that you will not go running into the woods and getting yourself lost?” he asks, sternly holding your gaze while he looks for any traces of deception in your answer.

   Except you don’t give any. Because you can’t make that promise. Not when you still don’t know why he’s brought you here or why he intends to keep you here.

   “I don’t suppose it would make much difference if I told you that we are much too far away from any other people for you to make it there alive in winter?” he sighs, and he does seem genuinely worried that you won’t believe him.

   “Actually, I do believe you on that part. I just also believe that dying while running for your freedom might be better than living in captivity,” you explain, and once again, something terribly sad comes over him.

   “I really wish you could trust that I don’t intend to harm you, young one.”

   “Why do you call me that? I can’t be that much younger than you.”

   He chuckles drily at that, but it’s a sound of hopelessness rather than bemusement.

   “If only that were true…” he says quietly, turning his gaze to the floor for a moment before he rises and leaves the room.

   When he returns, only a few seconds later, he’s carrying your shoes and wool socks, both of which he appears to have cleaned, hands them to you and then steps back while you put them on.    For a moment, you contemplate more questions, but the more you think about the strangeness of this whole situation, the more you just want to pretend that it’s a dream and that you’re gonna wake up and laugh at yourself any second now.

   “The tower’s mine?” you find yourself asking, instead of any real questions.

   “That whole wing is yours for as long as you’re here,” he nods.

   “And how long might that be?”

   “For now, I can’t say with any certainty, but hopefully no more than a few days.”

   He does look genuinely apologetic as he says that, but you’re relieved to hear it. Somehow, you’d envisioned being a captive for years, locked away in that tower. But there’s something innately honest about this guy. You have no reason to trust anything he says, and yet you do.

   “And what determines how long my stay ends up being?” you wonder, while rising from the sofa and daring yourself to take one step towards him.

   He doesn’t react in any visible way to your truly minimal challenge, but you wonder if perhaps he likes that you don’t just accept your circumstances when they don’t feel right to you. There’s a little glimmer in his eyes that might just be a hint of awe.

   “How long it takes me to figure out how you’re still alive,” he quietly answers, bringing you back to the severity of the moment.

   Turning away from you, he reaches for an old-fashioned candlestick holder, lights the candle and then hands it to you.

   “Living light reveals the path to the tower,” he says, as if that isn’t the most useless piece of information you’ve ever gotten, and then gestures to the open door.

   Utterly confused, you step out into the dusky hallway, half expecting the wooden door to slam shut behind you, but it doesn’t.    When you turn back to ask him which direction to turn, you find him right behind you, already showing you to the right with a gentlemanly open hand aiming that way.    You nod your thanks and begin walking, still without a clue as to what the candle is meant to show you. Until it does.

   Once the dancing light hits a certain wall, a faint glow appears in a thin line running along the wall, around waist-height.    You follow it, seeing it fade away as soon as the flame isn’t directly in front of it, and before you know it, you’re back at those winding stairs.    Walking back into the chamber at the top, you find that nothing’s moved since you left.

   You walk around the room, examining everything more closely, finding two large and fully stocked bookcases hidden behind drapes on either side of the fireplace. There’s also a closet built into the wall next to the bed, and there are very old dresses hanging in there, covered with dust, making you wonder who the girl might’ve been that those clothes had originally belonged to.

   Realizing that you haven’t asked your captor how to get food or how he intends to figure out how you’ve miraculously healed, you spend a few minutes pondering on whether you’ve got the energy to make the long walk back down to look for a kitchen and ask if you’re expected to come down from your tower at any specific times.    But ultimately, you decide to leave it for now, picking out a book instead. You’re too stressed still to be able to eat anything anyway.

   The book keeps you occupied for the entire afternoon, and it isn’t until it grows dark that you eventually close it and get up, intending to go looking for that kitchen.    You’d left the candle holder in the window that faces the front of the castle, although you can’t see the courtyard from behind the main structure, but as you go to pick it up, a movement outside catches your eye.

   Peering down towards the ground, you see a door swing open, and then something runs across the section of the yard that you can see. It’s so fast that you can’t be sure, but it looks like it could be what attacked you last night.    And it looks like… a dragon.    A dragon that just ran out of the same castle where you’re trapped.

Part 2

Thank you for reading! I had so much fun with this and I'm nowhere near done with it. Huge Thanks to @joelswritingmistress for inspiring me to take on Oberyn, I didn't think I ever would.

If anyone wishes to be notified when this story is updated, follow @sirowsky-stories and turn on notifications, or just ask nicely, and I'll tag you.

[queen-morgana91]

I should have known the asoiaf fandom was beyond help when i said Rhaegar was an interesting character and book!tyrion was one of my favorite characters ever written and they were lambasted within my own circle, because "they are terrible person".

Since when a fictional character’s actions became an indicator as to whether we should find them interesting or not? some form of brain-deteriorating condition that causes people to enjoy characters based on morality and morality alone, i guess.

You'd expect fans of asoiaf would, of all people, know better. They don't.

Y'all, 90% of Game of Thrones/Asoiaf characters are terrible people or they committed atrocities. By the logic of this boring fandom, we are allowed to like only Ser Pounce, Tommen's cat.

It's funny because Tyrion and Rhaegar are not even close to be the worst characters in the series.

Jaime Lannister was happy to go to war (one he pretty much guaranteed by cucking his king for years and impregnating his royal sister three times) and kill thousands upon thousands of people to preserve his incestuous love affair with Cersei; he tries to murder a child, yet his arc becomes all about how he feels unfairly maligned.

Oberyn, an extremely popular character, beats a woman and steals her daughter, leading to said woman unaliving, and sleeps with a sixteen year old (no modern bias here? i heard that Rhaegar was a pedo). No, Oberyn is not Pedro Pascal.

Let's not talk about Robert, Gregor Clegane, Tywin, and Stannis. Meh even the Starks are not saints.

All these men… but RHAEGAR and TYRION is where you draw the line of who is acceptable to like?

If you wanna be insufferable at least be consistent.

[galaxyedging]

Modern Oberyn Martell x f!reader

Modern Oberyn Masterlist

Summary: It suddenly feels like Oberyn is the one good thing in your life. Your brain doesn't take that too well.

Warnings: Smut. Self doubt.

WC:3.4k

Partner

See, I told you he needed a dick punch. I know.

That idea sounded more and more appealing as time went on. The more time you had to think, the more livid you became. Rage rolled inside you, clenching your fists and churning your stomach. Scott, the sleazy asshole from HR had called you into the bosses office. The version of events, that you knew he would tell everyone, the one where you were a crazy bitch, was what he had told your boss. It came down to 'he said, she said' so naturally you were out on your ear.

Reaching Oberyn's place, you were still incensed. By the time you had finished your account, so was Oberyn. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the kitchen counter. "Why didn't you tell me about what he did at the bar?!"

"I handled it. He's always an asshole so there was nothing to tell."

"If someone harms you, in any way, there's something to tell. I can't look after you if you hold things back from me."

"I didn't need looking after. I handled it."

"Yeah, real well." His words slapped you in the face causing you to recoil. "I'm sorry..." he stepped towards you.

Holding a hand up, you stepped away from him. "Don't." Snatching your bag off the counter you left to the sound of him calling your name.

Look after me?! What does he think I've been doing my entire adult life, with no help from anyone? Is that what he likes? Being the together one? He likes to pity me? Was that whole understanding big brother bit just for show? Between your brain's inability to shut the hell up and Oberyn's texts and missed calls, you barely slept. Deciding to take a very long shower, you threw on a playlist before slipping under the warm spray. The wet thinking box always helps. He came to pick you up at 2am. He cooks for you. He calls you everyday to check in with you. He always asks if we have time to talk when he does, time for him. He's insatiable in bed but always follows your lead. He never gives you more that you can handle. He's watched your comfort shows and movies because he wanted to know why you loved them. For once, your brain was talking a whole lot of sense. Oberyn was nothing but caring. He spent time truly getting to know you. He noticed the little things. For your birthday, only a few weeks into your relationship, he bought you a Sarah Sanderson Funko. "I saw she was missing from your shelf." He'd been in your room once. Once. Fuck.

Wrapping a towel around your wet body, you grabbed your phone. He answered on the third ring. "Hey. I'm glad you called..."

"..I'm sorry." You both spoke at the same time. Wow, you did the whole 'miscommunication that threatens to break you guys up' bit. Now, you're blurting out apologies in unison. Very Hallmark.

A nervous laughter bounced between you.

"I'm sorry for what I said. I was just angry at the bastards you work with. I get a little overprotective. I took my frustration out on you. There's no excuse for it but I wanted you to know the reason."

"It's okay. I called to say sorry for taking it too far. I know you were angry and frustrated and being bitchy, I just happened to be the one there to take the brunt of it. I should have stayed and talked. I know we lash out at the people closest to us, the ones we feel safe with. You know the old saying, about hurting the ones you love?"

"Yeah I know that one...and I do, you know?"

"Do what?"

"Love you."

"I..."

"I just wanted you to know. I thought I might lose you and I didn't know if I'd get the chance to say it. You don't have to say it, if you're not..."

"It's not that. I just...are you sure?"

"What?!"

"Are you sure you love me?"

"Yes, I am."

"Good. I love you, too."

"Good." He laughed warmly. "Can I come over and show you how much?"

"You'd better."

The towel you wore stayed wrapped around you until Oberyn pulled it off twenty minutes later. He muttered praise and affections against your breast as his lips and hands travelled them. Arriving at your nipples, he sucked one into his mouth while his fingers teased the other. He's so good at that. I love that about him. I love him.

"Penny for them?"

"Just thinking that I love you."

It was just that simple. You love him. He loves you. If that was the only thing going on in your life things would be great. Unfortunately for you, the whole 'needing a job to live' thing was killing the vibe.

Weeks passed, you had a few interviews but they didn't progress further.

"I'm doing some laundry. You wanna bring some over?" Oberyn offered one morning.

Yes, but you've been cooking for me, driving me to interviews, I can't let you do more from me.

"I'm not keeping score you know."

Easy there, Professor X.

"How do you do that?!"

"Do what?"

"Know what am thinking."

"I know you."

Simple. Oberyn had such unwavering honesty about him. If you were gorgeous and near perfect, you supposed you wouldn't have much to lie about either.

Months passed. The job market was a nightmare. Taking temp office jobs had not gone well. Apparently, 'temp' is code for 'person I can treat like shit/attempt to sexually harass.' Oberyn was doing all that he could, well, all that your pride would allow him to, to support you. Even with his help, you didn't have enough money to stop the eviction notice being posted through your door. Shit.

Oberyn was stood at the island in his kitchen when you walked into his apartment. The setting sun highlighted his profile as he turned to acknowledge you. Man, he was beautiful, even after all this time it still struck you. His hands worked deftly, cubing the potatoes on the board in front of him. There he goes, reading your mind again. Patatas Bravas would be the perfect comfort meal right now.

"How was your day? Find any more jobs you like the look of?" Bless him for thinking you were still looking for jobs you might like. At this point you would let someone flip you upside down to use you as a mop if they paid well enough.

"No. I was a little preoccupied."

"With what?"

"Being evicted."

"What? Are you that far behind with your rent? You told me you didn't need help paying it."

"I didn't...until I did."

"Why didn't you asked me for help?"

"You're my boyfriend, not my personal ATM."

"I'd like to think I'm more than your boyfriend. We're partners. We help each other."

Easy to say when you're not the one that needs all the help. "You're right but I can't expect you to pay your mortgage and my rent."

"So move in with me." Not even a question. A suggestion, said as simply as asking for the time. Move in with him? Give me a minute, I could probably give you a long list of reasons why that idea would be a really awful, terrible...."Yes."....oh we're listen to Heart today. Fine. I'll check out. See ya.

"Yes? You don't need more time to think? The offer will still be there."

"No, no thinking. Well, no overthinking. I want to move in with you. I love you."

"I love you, too. I'm not just asking you to move in to be practical. I want you here."

He wants you here. He doesn't just want to fuck you. He wants you, your company, your life intertwined with his. Squeal.

The first week at Oberyn's was weird. The gym was closed for a week, the sprinklers had been set off by accident and the whole place was a mess. He still had a few clients he went out to train but for the most part, he was home. His home. Your home. You went to sleep, he was there. You woke up, he was there. You showered, he was there. You ate, he was there. He was everywhere. In your pussy, in your mouth, in your ass. Okay! Yes, your sex life hadn't been affected. Your relationship hadn't really changed. You spent so much time together anyway. The only thing that had changed was you. This new phase in your relationship came with new anxieties. What if this was just a new hyperfixation? What would happen once the novelty of living together wore off? He was good man, he deserved the same love that he gave you returned. What if being with him all the time with no space of your own to retreat to overwhelmed you? The tangled of thoughts weaving their way around you reminded you of something.

"I need to pick up my medication." You moved to get your purse and head out.

"Oh, I didn't know you took any." Oberyn looked up from his recipe book. He'd be busy making notes on Post Its and sticking them to the pages filled with his handwritten recipes.

"It's a pretty recent thing. I used to find working out helped but it wasn't cutting it." Are we going to tell him?

"Help with what? Is there anything you want to talk about? You know you can tell me anything." He'd moved in front of you as he spoke, his large hands wrapping around yours.

"I know I can. I'm ADHD." Fuck, here were go...

"Oh?" He doesn't know what to say. He probably either doesn't know what it is or has all these stereotypes in his head. He won't see us the same now.

You prepared for the big explanation. "It's a neurodivergent condition..."

His hand came up to cup your face, his thumb soothed the skin of your cheek bone. His hands were always warm and soft. "I know. A few of my clients and personal trainers I knew were ADHD. I studied it to help them. You want me to drive you over there? You can tell me about how your ADHD presents on the way." Again, Oberyn made everything so simple. Tears welled in your eyes. This was how love was supposed to be. Simple. Honest.

This whole job thing was so frustrating. While you were bouncing from temp job to temp job, you weren't progressing in your career. You felt stuck, not great for you or your spiralling thoughts. It just took a gentle nudge to spin them out of control. After one spectacularly annoying day, with a boss that explained their requests poorly then got pissed that things weren't done exactly how they wanted, you made yourself a nest on Oberyn's plush, definitely not from Ikea, sofa. When Oberyn came home from a training session he found you angrily scrolling for something to watch. The shows whizzed by until he took the remote from your hand. "Hey, hey, hey, Mi Cielo. What is wrong?"

"I'm just sick of feeling like I can't do anything with my life. I'm just waiting to get control of it again. It's like everything has been taken out of my hands." You groaned.

Oberyn pressed the remote back into hands, a boyish grin on his face as he did so.

"Cute." He is. At least we have him.

Coming to sit next to he moved the pile of pillows and blankets out of his way.

"You know if you need some control." His voice was low and measured, he gave nothing away in his tone. "I can give you that."

His lips pressed a single kiss to your neck. "Tell me what you want." Oh. That kind of control. This is new.

It wasn't like you didn't do your fair share of pleasure giving in this relationship. Oberyn was just more naturally in control of things no matter who was receiving the pleasure. Even when you took him in your mouth and he was totally at the mercy of the pleasure you were bring him, he'd still seem to guide you. Pulling his hips back if he thought you were going to gag yourself by being over enthusiastic. Always checking in to see if you were okay. He told you himself he could be overprotective so you put it down to that. Looking at him now, he looked tired. His gaze was wary, his shoulders looked tense. Maybe being in control all the time, especially with all his new clients, needing him to push and encourage them, was taking a toll. Feeling bold you threaded your finger in his hair, pulling gently to tilt his head your way. "Do you need me to be in control, Oberyn?"

The way his body reacted was unmissable, his eyes darkened, his lips parted, sucking in air, his hips lifted slightly, drawing your attention to bulge in his sweatpants. Oh, I like this. Do it again.

"I want to sit on your face." Your tone was firm until your nerves and not wanting to do anything he didn't want to do got to you. "Can I?"

"You don't have to ask. You are in control." When you still looked unsure he added. "My safe word is 'persimmon'. I trust you to stop if I say it. Until then take whatever you need. I'm more than willing to give it to you." He ran your hand over the bulge in his sweatpants. Damn sweatpants are going to be the death of me. "Now tell me what you want."

"I want you naked. Take off your clothes." He complied slowly sliding his t-shirt off. It glided over every inch of golden muscle. His biceps tensed as he pulled it over his head. It was amazing how quickly this man could take you from one emotion to the other. The anger melted away to be replaced by a puddle in your panties. Next, he slipped those accursed sweatpants down his long, muscular legs. His erection slaps back against him. I never get tired of that.

"Sit down." Keeping the instructions simple, you tried to hide the quiver in your voice. The gasp that left you when he instantly complied was harder to hide. A thought crept in to ask him, well tell him, to do something that you love, that he's only done a couple of times and never fully for you. You wanted to watch him touch himself. You wanted to watch him touch himself like he did when was alone. You wanted to see that private moment, all on show for you. You wanted him vulnerable and open to you.

"Touch yourself. Make yourself feel good for me. I-I want to watch." Your voice squeaked and stuttered at the last part. Your thoughts stuttered as his tongue flattened against his palm, licking a strip up it. The warmth of his eyes was eclipsed by the darkness while he locked eyes with you. Fuck. I know what I want him to lick next.

Even with you in control Oberyn was still a commanding sight. You couldn't take your eyes of him as he wrapped his spit slicked hand around his hard length, running his fist up the length to squeeze the head. Lips parted in a gasp, he twisted his thumb and forefinger over the tip before dragging his fist back down to the base. He repeated the motion a few times until his chest heaved, his head was tilted back against the back of the sofa. The motion exposed his delicious neck. His expensive aftershave burned your taste buds as his pulse quickened under your tongue, in time with his strokes.

"Let me kiss you, please?" He almost whined the request.

"No, I have a better use for your pretty mouth. Lay down."

Keeping his eyes on yours, he turned to lay flat on his back. His eyes stayed on yours as you stripped off everything below the waist. Normally his gaze would still hold an impression of control. Today, it only held want and trust.

"I want you to keep touching yourself until you come. I want to see you make a mess of yourself. All for me." As you gave him your instructions, you settled down over his face.

The words 'Anything for you' were spoken against your hot core before he tongue came out to lap at the wetness he had already created.

He's always so good at that. I hope he thinks we're as good with our tongue. I…any negativity from your brain was silenced with a sharp suck of your clit. His pillowy lips sealed around the lit up nerves and sucked steadily. His hand kept a steady rhythm on his cock, a long drawn out figure of eight, with his hand dragged over the leaking head on each pass. His rhythm only changed when he felt you needed more. His head shook violently side to side, rapidly dragging his tongue over your sensitive clit. The closer you got to coming on his tongue the harder he jerked himself. Until, just as you orgasm was building from your toes, you thighs tensing either side of his head, his hips began to chase his fist. Just before you reached your peak from his talented tongue's attention, he came. His groan was muffled against you, the vibrations of it sent another wave of pleasure through you. Streams of his creamy cum burst from his thick cockhead as he worked himself through his orgasm. It landed on his toned abs, settling in the grooves between them. After your own orgasm subsided, you made your way to his side. He shot you a questioning look as you kneel by him. "Stay still." You ordered before running your tongue through his spend.

The action made him shiver. "Fuck."

Taking your time, you swirled your tongue through the rest of it. Savouring every drop as Oberyn watched you hum and moan. He was so taking by watching you enough his seed, he didn't realise what else you were doing until your whole body shuddered. His hand quickly came up to take yours. He guided your fingers to his mouth before rolling his tongue over them to savour the sweet of your second release.

"I'm sorry. You are in charge. I should have asked." His apology was backed up with gentle kisses while you arranged yourself next to/on top of him on the sofa. "How can I make it up to you?"

When I can think straight, I'll have a list for him. "I will think of a suitable punishment later." You yawned. "After a nap."

I may be half asleep but I didn't miss how his cock twitched at 'punishment'. We'll think about that later. God, he smells good. How can he smell so sexy and like home at the same time?

The veil of sleep soon settled you and your overactive brain. It was abruptly pulled from you by a loud knock at the door twenty minutes later. Oberyn stirred beneath you but seemed content to ignore the unexpected guest, until they knocked again. With a huff, he pulled on his sweatpants. "I'll get rid of them."

While Oberyn went to shoo away your visitor, you decided to slip your own sweatpants back on. A moment later you were thankful that you did. The sound of a very tense exchange at the door had you on your feet and running to Oberyn's side.

Two men stood at the door. Both in suits but that was just about their only similarity. One was young, early thirties-ish. He was well over six feet tall and muscularly built. The other man was older, in his sixties maybe? He was just a little shorter than Oberyn. His build was board, athletic. His well rounded stomach was in contrast to that. From the look of his wardrobe, you guess that the extra weight came from years of fine living. The watch on his wrist alone would have saved you from eviction and paid your rent for a year. Who is this guy? Why does he look so familiar? Oh, shit. We're really standing here commando, covered in cum for this. Hey, they're looking this way.

"....she's a friend." You caught as Oberyn looked at you. "Excuse me, I have to go speak with my father."

With that he closed the door behind him. Leaving you with only your spiralling thoughts for company.

Tags: @kirsteng42 @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid2 @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80 @quica-quica-quica @rise-my-angel @adancedivasmom @kinda-nobody @movievillainess721 @munsonownsmyass @mandoloriancookie @faceache111 @elegantduckturtle @manazo @simpingcowboy @pedrit0-pascalit0 @yourcoolauntie @pedrostories @geekrenaissance @its-nebuleuse

[grittyknittygrrrl]

I Speak for the Flowers, and the Flowers Say “Fuck You”

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Game of Thrones (TV), A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Oberyn Martell/Sansa Stark Characters: Oberyn Martell, Sansa Stark, Harry Hardyng - Mentioned Additional Tags: Modern Era, Language of Flowers, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Mild Language, Swearing, Fluff, First Meetings, Meet-Cute, i'm still alive Summary:

In fifteen years as a florist, people do come in occasionally wanting bouquets with specific meanings. Some people even come in knowing the language of flowers. But in fifteen years, Oberyn has never received a request like this one. Certainly not from such an interesting woman.

[westerosoliviapope]

He will die with Ellaria's name on his breath, but Jolona Qo remains the most impressive lover he's ever had, an umber-toned incarnation of the Princess Nymeria herself. Intelligent. Confident. Poised and fierce. Made even more beautiful by what laid beneath her statuesque frame. When he learned that powerhouse of a woman carried his child, he was almost giddy to see what they'd made together. And Sarella, possessed of all her mother's beauty and ambition with his mind and insatiable curiosity, surpassed his wildest dreams.

***********************************************************************

If he's honest with himself, Sarella is the first child he anticipated. Obara came to him an abandoned three-year-old of a whore who drank herself to death. Nym and Tyene were welcome, of course, but unexpected.

He will die with Ellaria's name on his breath, but Jolona Qo remains the most impressive lover he's ever had, an umber-toned incarnation of the Princess Nymeria herself. Intelligent. Confident. Poised and fierce. Made even more beautiful by what laid beneath her statuesque frame. When he learned that powerhouse of a woman carried his child, he was almost giddy to see what they'd made together. And Sarella, possessed of all her mother's beauty and ambition with his mind and insatiable curiosity, surpassed his wildest dreams.

He longs for the knobby-kneed, wild-haired girl he brought to Sunspear all those years ago. The way her onyx eyes, his eyes, blew wide with wonder the first time he walked her through the royal library. His little archery champion who memorized volumes of Dornish poetry before she was 10 and ran Doran off the Cyvasse table at thirteen.

The woman before him—in bare feet and an oversized Dornish Marine Corps shirt with freshly-fucked hair—makes Oberyn's eye twitch.

His brilliant baby. His greatest creation. A disloyal little fool who turned his best weapon into a simpering pup on a leash.

Warrior in a Suit (Scandal Westeros - Finale) on AO3

[absurdthirst]

The Watcher {Modern!Oberyn Martell x F!Reader x Ellaria Sand}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: Voyeurism, exhibitionism, oral sex (male receiving), masturbation, vaginal sex, sexual invitation, alcohol, threesome, stripping, nipple play, oral sex (female receiving), wlw, vaginal sex, face sitting, cock worship

Comments: The view out the window of your apartment becomes an obsession, watching the lovers in the building across the way touch each other. Until you discover they know you are watching, and invite you to join.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Oberyn Martell MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Oberyn smirks as Ellaria straddles him, taking off his glasses and setting them down on the small side table, a cheeky grin on her face. He’s been busy reading his book about Ancient Rome, and she is tired of thinking how good he looks with those new glasses on. “You’re interrupting me, my sun.” Oberyn tuts and Ellaria chuckles, grabbing the book and closing it before she sets it down. 

“Like you were reading it anyway. Your eyes have been following me around the room.” She hums, sliding her hands along his shirt clad chest. 

“You’re eager for me. I love it.” Oberyn coos, leaning in to playfully nip his lover’s jaw, his lips pressing onto her cheek until he finds her lips, his hands squeezing her waist.

The first time you had seen the gorgeous couple, they had been directing movers into the building across from yours. The large picture windows that had cost you a fortune to have the view of the city, had also been perfect to see into the spacious apartment. You had been curious, a little envious of the willowy brunette for her exquisite taste in furniture, clothing and men. Then you had gone about your day. Until you had seen them undress each other. 

You hadn’t meant to spy, horrified that you could clearly see their activities and they did not realize it. Until you had seen how intimate they were. Their desire intrigued you and you had watched until they were done. 

Now, you are watching again. Breathless when you see the woman straddle him. You don’t know his name, never formally introducing yourself for fear of dying of shame, but you secretly call him Prince. Not after the musician, but because you would think him a King with his sharp jaw and hooked nose, but he is too carefree. He is more like a Prince, a dashing second son of royalty with all the perks and none of the responsibility.

“My sun. You are exquisite.” Oberyn murmurs, his hands gripping Ellaria’s dress and he’s quick to drag it over her head. When that hits the floor, his large hands cup her tits, grateful she’s not wearing a bra, and he leans in to take her nipple into his mouth.

They are gorgeous together, so beautiful it should piss you off and they are completely enamored with each other. You bite your lip, trying to ignore the throbbing in your pussy as you watch, getting turned on by the scene that has started playing out in front of your windows.

His hands caress her back, sliding down to her ass, and he snakes his fingers under the elastic of her panties, squeezing her ass while she starts to grind onto his hardening cock. “You are a minx, my love.” Oberyn murmurs, kissing up Ellaria’s sternum. “All for you, my prince.” Ellaria murmurs, running her hands through his hair.

Even though you aren’t being touched, your skin starts to tingle, breaths coming out in uneven pants. When they do this, which is often, you are helpless to do anything else. Drawn to them like a moth to the flame. You wish you were there, kissing her beautiful body or sinking your fingers into his short, peppered dark hair.

Oberyn chuckles as Ellaria shifts off of his lap, her fingers hooking in his sweatpants and she drags them down. His hard cock bounces as it’s released from his pants. “Mmm she’s watching again.” Ellaria observes without looking over to the window. Oberyn chuckles and strokes her cheek, “then let’s give her something to watch.”

You don’t know they are talking about you. Imagining the words exchanged between them to be the affirmations of love that you don’t have. No partner in a long time and maybe that’s why you’ve fixated on them. You don’t know who you would want more. The seductive woman, with a bewitching smile and fantastic tits; or the debonair man with a wicked smirk and huge cock. Both have their merits and if you could, in your dream, you would have both.

Ellaria leans in, “we gotta put on a good show for her, lover.” She coos, gripping Oberyn’s cock and he groans when she leans in to slide her tongue along the underside of his length. “Mierda.” He hisses, his eyes closing as she wraps her lips around the head after pushing down the foreskin.

You moan softly, alone in your apartment as you watch her take the man’s cock into her mouth. Wondering how he tastes, how he feels on her tongue. Wishing you could share with her. You shouldn’t touch yourself. Sitting down into a chair that hides all but your head as you watch, you hand slides down to cup your cunt through your leggings.

“Do you think she wants your cunt, my sun. Or my cock? Or both of us?” Oberyn muses as Ellaria starts to bob her head, taking his cock a little deeper. “We could share her. If she wants to come over here.” Oberyn smirks, his chest heaving as Ellaria wrecks him with her mouth like she always does. “Shall we give her a bigger show? Have you ride me so she can watch?” Oberyn groans, caressing Ellaria’s hair.

Over the leggings isn’t enough, making you snake your hand down the stretchy material and groan when you touch the swollen bundle of nerves. You’re already slick, so turned on it’s embarrassing and you would cringe to know if anyone discovered your secret. You’ve become a voyeur, unable to masturbate until the strangers in the building across from your apartment are fucking.

Ellaria pulls off of Oberyn’s cock, a giggle escaping her lips as she straddles him again. Reaching down to grip his cock, she notches him at her entrance and starts to slowly sink down onto him. His hands caressing her back, sliding up to squeeze her tits. “Gorgeous, my sun. She will enjoy watching you.”

Your own moan is audaciously loud, echoing through your apartment as the perfectly cast porno plays out in front of you. You wonder how they feel, her squeezing around him and the way he breaks her open. Your two fingers dip into your soaked cunt and then slide back out to rub slow circles around your aching clit, hissing because of how good it feels.

Ellaria slides her hands up his chest, caressing the sun tattoo on his peck he got in honor of his love for her. She had pulled him out of a dark place after his sister was murdered. “His burst of light in the darkness” is what he called her. “My lover, she is touching herself.” Ellaria declares as she looks in the mirror they set up to watch you without you knowing. “Good. Let her watch. Imagine herself sitting pretty on my cock. Or maybe she’s imagining lapping at where we are joined?” He ponders while she starts to rock on top of him.

If you weren’t obsessed with seeing them every second, you would close your eyes, but you have to watch them. She is so graceful as she rolls her hips and starts to ride that impressive cock. You moan again, imagining being there with them, hearing them.

Oberyn chuckles when Ellaria clenches around him at the thought of both situations. “Don’t worry, my sun. We will find out.” He promises, certain that you’d accept an invitation. He squeezes her ass and playfully slaps her cheek when she rocks faster. “That’s it. Want you to soak my cock with your cum. Take what you need.” He grunts to his lover.

You pant, watching them as they move together. Craving the closeness and the intimacy in each kiss and touch. Even the slap of her ass is one made with affection and you cunt clenches around nothing, wondering what his touch would feel like.

Ellaria rocks a little faster, her breathing starting to pick up and Oberyn leans in to take her nipple into his mouth, his large hands splayed over her back, caressing her as she seeks her orgasm from his cock. “That’s it, lover. Keep going. Want you to cum for me.”

They are so elegant, even as they engage in the most crass or carnal activities. Making you whine and your own breast tingles like his mouth is on it instead of lavishing attention on her small breasts. Your rubbing turns harder, thighs pressing and pushing apart as you grind down.

Ellaria watches you in the mirror, her fingers gripping Oberyn’s shoulders as she works herself on his cock until she’s collapsing against him, her body shaking as her orgasm rocks through her. “That’s it, my love.” He murmurs, bracing his feet on the floor so he can thrust up into her, his jaw clenched.

She came. You know it. It’s so beautiful when she stiffens in his arms and collapses against him. “Oh fuck, oh fuck.” You whine, so close to cumming yourself as you watch him take over. His cock pumping into her cunt and you imagine that it’s you for a moment. It sends you over the edge and you cry out softly.

Oberyn grunts, lost in the lust of you watching him fuck his lover. Usually he’d last a couple of rounds but today, he’s eager to cum. He pants, his cock thrusting deep and hard into his partner. He knows she can take him. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He growls, pushing deep when he stills. Cock twitching inside of her as he paints her walls with his seed.

Your eyes greedily watch as he stiffens, knowing he is cumming. Moaning softly, you can only imagine the bliss of how it feels. Relaxing and feeling guilty because of watching them again.

Oberyn groans as he relaxes beneath Ellaria, kissing along her neck until he playfully bites her chin. “You’re too good for me.” He murmurs, kissing her lips softly. “Don’t be ridiculous, my prince. That’s the sex talking.” She teases and he chuckles. “Should we let the girl know we know she’s watching us?” He asks, leaning back to raise his eyebrows. “Let’s.” Ellaria smirks, shifting off of his cock.

Now is the time that you hate yourself. Dragging your fingers out of your leggings, you vow that you won’t watch them again even though you know you will.

Neither Oberyn or Ellaria rush over to the window. They shower and redress, waiting until you’re relaxed on your sofa when Oberyn takes the notepad over to the window. He presses the pad to the glass so you can read it and smirks when he sees your eyes widen at his presence.

‘We know you’re watching’. Your face flames up and you feel like you are going to just die of embarrassment on the spot. They know! They have known…..but then again, if they have known, why didn’t they lower the automatic shades to conceal themselves. You feel bold and grab the notebook you have next to the chair to write a message back. ‘And you are good’ is what it reads as you hold it up to your own window.

Oberyn smirks at your response, glad that you’re not running away. Ellaria called it. You want them. More than anything. He chuckles and grabs his pen, scrawling out a message. ‘Do you want to join us?’ It reads and he awaits your response.

You’re dreaming. It has to be a dream. But if it’s a dream, you are damn sure you are going to have exactly what you want. You rush to pull your pen out of the sleeve in the front and write a message. ‘What apartment #?’

He quickly jots down the apartment number, showing it to you until you nod, and he writes again. ‘Come over in ten minutes.’ He writes and when you nod again, he walks off and finds Ellaria. “She is coming, my lover.” Oberyn murmurs as Ellaria exits the bedroom and he holds her waist, leaning in to kiss her shoulder.

You spend seven of the ten minutes showering. Shaving quickly and praying that you didn’t miss patches. Sliding into never used lingerie and asking yourself if you are really doing this, you let yourself out of your apartment without even looking out the window again, knowing you would lose your nerve if you did.

When the buzzer rings for the door, Oberyn walks over and lets you in. He glances over at Ellaria who has a sultry smile on her face and she watches as Oberyn opens the door after you ring the doorbell. “Hello.” Oberyn greets you, realizing how pretty you are up close.

“Hello.” He has a slight accent you cannot place and even more striking in person. His dark eyes are filled with amusement and intrigue, drawing you closer to him. You introduce yourself, not sure if they want to know your name honestly.

You’re nervous. Oberyn and Ellaria have shared partners before but it seems you haven’t if your nervous look is anything to go by. “Come in. I’m Oberyn and this gorgeous creature is my partner, Ellaria.” He gestures to the woman waiting at the end of the hall.

“Yes, she is.” You blurt out and then bite your lip. “You are, too. Gorgeous, I mean. Both of you are.” You laugh at yourself. “God, I can’t believe you caught me. I’m sorry- or I should be sorry. But I’m really not.”

Oberyn chuckles and shuts the door behind you after you walk over to Ellaria. “You’re not.” The woman declares, “but we love that. My lover and I…we have shared partners before. We are comfortable with you watching. Shit, my prince nearly came too fast when I told him you were watching us.” She winks at you, “you are welcome in our bed if you wish. Only if you wish.” She emphasizes, wanting you to be comfortable.

“Prince?” Your brow shoots up, surprised that she uses the same nickname you do. “Are you his Princess?”

“No. That’s reserved for his daughters.” Ellaria chuckles, “he has eight of them.” Your eyes widen and you glance back at Oberyn, and he grins. “I was wild in my younger days.” Ellaria tuts, “he still is.” Oberyn winks at her and walks down the hall to his partner. “We are being rude hosts. What would you like to drink, sweet girl?” He asks, “we have wine, whiskey, coffee, tea, water?”

“I’ll have what you will have.” You decide as you follow behind him like a lost puppy. “What do you like to drink before sex, during sex, after sex?”

Oberyn nods, “I have a beautiful red wine. My family…they are wine makers. I have a bottle of Dornish red. How does that sound?” He asks, walking over to the wine fridge while Ellaria gets the glasses.

You nod and watch them. “When you did know I was watching?” You ask curiously. “I had hoped I was more discreet. Obviously not, since I’m here.” You can’t be upset about that. Not when you will soon see how they both feel.

“We realized you were watching a few weeks ago. We have been trying to figure out if you wanted us or just wanted to watch us. Decided to take the chance today.” Ellaria confesses, handing you a glass of wine after Oberyn pours three. “What have you been thinking about while watching us?” Ellaria asks, reaching up to caress your cheek.

“How you taste.” You answer honestly, nearly moaning at the first touch of her skin shading yours. “How he feels. Being between you.”

Oberyn smirks as he takes a sip of his drink. "You want to taste her?" He asks and you nod, "yes." Your breathless response makes him chuckle. "Do you have any limits? We aren't dominating but I can manhandle sometimes." He murmurs, watching Ellaria step back from you so you can think.

“I don’t like waste play.” You murmur. “I don’t mind manhandling.” You admit. “I want to know what you sound like, I imagine how you would moan and grunt. You fuck gracefully.”

Oberyn smirks, watching Ellaria step closer to you. Your wine glass is still in your hand and she leans in, cupping your cheek. "You will find out." She promises, leaning in to softly press her lips to yours while Oberyn sips his wine.

The first kiss is making you sigh. The hand not holding the glass of wine quickly finds her narrow waist and holds onto it. In disbelief that you are here and getting to touch them, your tongue slides out to touch hers.

Ellaria slides her tongue against yours, her hand sliding around to cup the back of your head. Oberyn is happy to watch for now, enjoying the view of two beautiful women kissing. "How does she taste?" Oberyn asks you, "do you want to taste more?"

You honestly don’t want to break away, but you need to answer him. Pressing your lips to hers a few more times, you finally pull away. “Delicious.” You hum. “I want more. I’m greedy for everything you will give me, my prince.”

Oberyn chuckles at your eagerness, setting his glass of wine down, he makes his way over to you and Ellaria. Standing behind you, his hands find your waist and he grinds his hardening cock against your ass while he leans in to press kisses to your shoulder. “Keep kissing her.” Oberyn orders, “then I want to watch her take off her clothes.” He murmurs into your skin.

You whine quietly, nodding as you drag Ellaria’s lips back to yours. Needing the pressure of them against your own. You push back against his cock, loving how you’ve ended up sandwiched between the two gorgeous creatures. The strength in his touch is tempered by the softness of hers, Complimenting and balancing each other out.

Ellaria reaches for the hem of the pretty sundress you are wearing, breaking the kiss so she can reveal your body underneath. "Look, lover. She is a pretty little package." Ellaria coos when the dress hits the floor and your lingerie is exposed. Oberyn smirks, "what a divine set. Shame it is going to join your dress." He hums, his hands sliding along your back and he hooks his fingers in your bra straps, dragging them down your shoulders while leaning in to kiss the nape of your neck.

“Yesssss” you moan, tilting your head forward to let him kiss you however he wants. “It’s- whatever you want. I just want you to touch me.” You beg softly.

Oberyn slides his hands lower to unclasp your bra and Ellaria drags it down your arms, letting it drop to the floor and her eyes darken at the sight of your breasts. "Gorgeous." She exhales and leans in to kiss along your sternum and across the top of your breast until she is taking your nipple into her mouth.

“Oh god.” You pant out, leaning back against Oberyn who lifts your breast up so Ellaria can suckle. Feeling like you are in the middle of the most erotic dream you have ever had. “I- fuck, I knew you both would be amazing.” You praise.

Ellaria bites down your nipple before she switches over, making you whimper, and she smirks against your skin. "She's a good lover." Oberyn compliments Ellaria, "and she loves feasting on a delicious pussy." His hand slides lower to cup you through your lace panties.

His hands are fucking massive. You had assumed so because of how he looked with his hand on his lover, but there was no account for how he cups you. Covering the swollen lips of your cunt completely and it makes you whine loudly, a wordless cry of pleasure. Letting both of them touch and tease you as they want.

Oberyn slides his hand under the elastic of your panties, finding your clit, and he chuckles at your whimper as he starts to rub. “She’s so wet, my sun.” Oberyn coos to Ellaria who kisses down your stomach. Her fingers hook in your panties and she drags them down, exposing Oberyn’s hand rubbing your bundle of nerves.

They have done this before, it’s obvious in the silent coordination. They move together to strip you down and expose your body to their gazes. “Oh fuck.” You whisper, looking down to find her smirking up at you. Kneeling and lifting your leg onto her shoulder before she slides her tongue along Oberyn’s finger and your clit.

Oberyn smirks at your reaction, kissing along your neck as you lean back against him. Ellaria’s tongue slides around your clit, Oberyn’s hand shifting to squeeze your breast so his lover can properly taste you.

Your fingers slide along her jaw and your other hand reaches back to sink into Oberyn’s hair. Using them to anchor yourself so you don’t float away. The irony of being in front of the same windows that you were watching them through isn’t lost on you and it just makes your cunt clench even more. Turning your head, you kiss Oberyn jaw. “Kiss me.” You demand.

He doesn’t deny you. He presses his lips to yours, his tongue immediately sliding into your mouth. Ellaria continues to lap at your clit and you gasp into Oberyn’s mouth, his tongue dominating as he slides it against yours. His fingers pinch your nipples and he groans when you reach behind you to squeeze his cock through his pants.

His cock is large. You already knew that, but the distance had minimized how thick he is. Making you moan into his mouth when you squeeze him again and he twitches against your palm. Ellaria’s tongue is magic, flicking and licking like you have never been licked before. She’s obviously practiced and you can’t find yourself anything but envious of the other lovers for having her attention before now.

Ellaria closes her eyes as she laps at you, reaching around to unbutton Oberyn’s pants, allowing you to pull his cock out. “Shit.” He hisses at the way you immediately squeeze him. He grunts as you start to pump him and Ellaria hums around your clit.

You need more, greedy for it. Your hips push down, begging for more as you pump Oberyn’s cock. His mouth covers yours again, swallowing your moans as the two of them work to tear you apart at the very seam.

Oberyn groans into your mouth when you pump him a little faster. Ellaria laps at your clit and you whine into Oberyn’s mouth until he pulls away. “That’s it, baby. Cum for her. Cum for us.” He demands, pinching your nipples again.

You’re already teetering on the edge. You have been since Ellaria began her gentle and skilled assault on your clit. Building you up so quickly that you didn’t even realize how long you’ve been edged. How your body screams for release. Permission granted, you fall over the edge as he twists your nipples sharply, screaming out in their arms.

Oberyn chuckles against your jaw as you cum, slumping slightly against him. “That’s it, baby. That’s it. Mierda. So pretty when she cums.” He says to Ellaria as she laps at your clit, sliding her tongue between your folds to taste you. “She’s delicious.” She coos, letting your leg down and she stands up, pressing her lips to Oberyn’s so he can taste your tangy cum on her lips. He groans, cupping the back of her neck to taste you from her mouth.

“Let me-“ you pant breathless, watching them kiss and despite the fact that you just came, you want more. Your hands reach out to cup her small breasts and you squeeze them. “Fuck you are so beautiful.”

“Do you want to taste her?” Oberyn asks after pulling his lips away from Ellaria. “Do you wish to lick her cunt while I fuck yours?” He hums, sliding his hands down to squeeze both yours and Ellaria’s ass cheeks in each hand.

“Oh shit.” You whine, cunt clenching desperately at the idea. “I think- that’s- yessssss.” You can’t even articulate how badly you want that. How you want to be completely surrounded by them and lost in their world of pleasure. “I’m clean.” You pant. “I want- cum inside me.”

Oberyn chuckles at your eagerness. “We are clean too.” Oberyn trusts you. He’s had enough experience to know when someone is lying. “You are on birth control?” Oberyn asks, kissing your shoulder up to your neck. “I-IUD.” You manage to choke out and Oberyn bites down on your pulse. “Ellaria, my love, strip and go lay down on the bed. This one wants to taste your sweet nectar.” Oberyn reaches around to playfully smack the ass of his partner. “And you, lay next to her while I strip. I want you to kneel.”

​​You watch Ellaria while she untangles herself from the two of you and saunters into the bedroom. “She is gorgeous, is she not?” Oberyn whispers in your ear. “I can tell, you do not know who you are more interested in. Myself or my lover.” He slides his hand down to rub your clit again. “So you will have both of us. We will take every drop of pleasure you will give us.” You whine breathlessly and nod, closing your eyes.

Ellaria lays down on the bed, now naked and you moan at the sight of her golden glowing skin on display like a goddess. One you want to worship. She crooks her finger at you, beckoning you over, and you waste no time shifting to lay beside her after Oberyn releases you from his grip. You whimper as Ellaria kisses you and Oberyn starts to unbutton his half buttoned shirt, exposing the rest of his chest.

They are so gorgeous. Beautiful in masculine and feminine forms, and so incredibly erotic that it makes your skin tingle. Your hands drift over Ellaria’s body, caressing in and squeezing while you watch Oberyn undress from the corner of your eye.

Oberyn pushes his pants down, feet bare as he steps out of them, and he smirks when your eyes widen as you get a good look at his hard cock. “Kneel on the bed. I want to fuck you.” He orders, his voice demanding yet sensual. Ellaria kisses you one last time and playfully smacks your thigh to silently demand you kneel.

Completely naked, he still looks regal and imposing. Making you feel as if you are kneeling before royalty, although you doubt you would be displaying your wet cunt to a king. You shift your thighs apart, arching your back slightly to make sure he can see how you are dripping as you kneel between Ellaria’s gracefully long legs.

Oberyn caresses your ass as he kneels on the bed behind you. "Too fucking beautiful." He murmurs, "going to see how tight that pussy is." He chuckles, gripping his cock as he shuffles closer.

“Been a long time.” You admit quietly, drinking in the sight of Ellaria’s wet folds. “But I want to make sure your lover enjoys herself too.” You lean in and dive into her cunt with enthusiasm.

Ellaria moans as you slide your tongue through her folds. Oberyn watches her face and his cock twitches in his grip as he slides the head through your wet folds. You’re soaking wet. He pushes into you, slowly, and your moan vibrates against Ellaria’s clit.

He stretches you out, making you gasp in pleasure as you lurch forward. His hips flat against your ass when he’s buried deep. Your tongue flicks over Ellaria’s clit, curling up and then pressing against the bundle of nerves while you push back against the feeling of being impaled.

Oberyn groans as you clench around him. “She’s so tight, my love.” Oberyn coos to his partner. “Tighter than we thought she would be.” He confesses as he starts to move inside of you. Ellaria watches as her lover takes you from behind, her eyes flicking down to watch you as you lap at her clit.

You moan, clenching around him at the idea they had talked about you, wondering about you. Perhaps while Ellaria was sitting on his cock. They had been watching you as well. You suck on her clit and squeeze her thighs. Loving how she rolls her hips down and watches as Oberyn starts to rock into you.

Ellaria moans when you push your tongue inside of her and Oberyn smirks at the look on her face. “She’s done this before. She’s a good girl, isn’t she, my sun? Sucking on your perfect little clit like the voyeuristic whore she is.” He hums playfully, gripping your hips as he starts to rock a little faster.

You whimper and take every thrust of his hips, pushing you into Ellaria. You love it, holding onto her hip and devouring her as you clench around her lover's cock. You are a voyeuristic whore, their whore. You will do anything for them and they’ve barely touched you. Already marking you as theirs while you share their bed.

“She’s enjoying this, lover.” Ellaria purrs as you lap at her clit, making her chest heave with pleasure. “She is. She’s clenching around me.” Oberyn coos, caressing your hips. “She’s greedy. I love it.” He chuckles and thrusts a little harder, pushing you more into his partner’s cunt and you moan into her folds.

She tastes wonderful, tangy and musky. Making you addicted to the slick arousal that seeps from her like honey, thick and luscious on your tongue. His cock shreds up inside you, searching with small adjustments, for that perfect spot until you are crying out when he finds it.

“That’s it.” Oberyn grins victoriously. “Take what I give you, baby.” He grunts, rocking against that spot over and over. “El, I want you to cum for us.” He demands, looking over at his lover. “Cum on her pretty tongue.”

Your nipples harden at the intensity in his tone, eyes watching her and you can see that she's responding to his commands. Her body priming itself to cum just like he wants her to and you double down on the flicks of your tongue, wanting to make her fall apart.

It takes a few more seconds before Ellaria falls over the edge. Her moan echoing in the bedroom and she tilts her head back as she cums. Oberyn smirks as he watches her, loving seeing her pleasure. “You did a good job, baby.” Oberyn compliments you as you work her through it. “She loves it. Look at her face.” He says, grabbing the back of your neck to bring your head up to watch her.

He’s pulsing inside if you, not cumming, just throbbing as he holds you so you can watch Ellaria. Obviously enjoying the sight of his lover’s pleasure himself. Holding still inside you until she is slumped down onto the bed in a pool of limbs and moans.

Oberyn wants you to cum too. He pulls out of you and flips you over, Ellaria’s arms opening to pull you into her lap as Oberyn lifts your legs up onto his forearms. “Want to see your face when you cum.” He smirks, pumping his cock until he’s pushing back inside of you. Ellaria’s hands find your tits, squeezing them and her lips press against your neck while Oberyn watches.

They are completely overwhelming you in the best possible ways. Oberyn’s cock is thick and heavy inside you, starting to move again. “Oh fuck.” You might like looking up at him more than the way his cock feels when he has you from behind. “So good.”

“He’s like a prince. So regal.” Ellaria hums as she kisses your ear while her eyes focus on Oberyn. His jaw is clenched and he squeezes your thighs as he pushes into you, adjusting the angle on each thrust until you cry out. “There it is, lover.” Ellaria coos, her hand snaking down to rub your clit.

“He is.” You pant, nodding agreement as your nipples harden even more. His cock rocking into you and her delicate fingers on your clit is proving to be the most delicious form of torture. “I’m gonna cum.” You gasp out, feeling your body starting to tighten in anticipation.

“Do it. Cum for us.” Ellaria hums, pinching your clit and that sends you over the edge. You clamp down on Oberyn’s cock and he hisses in delight, loving the way you moan his name followed by Ellaria’s. “Mierda. She’s so tight.” Oberyn grunts as your walls flutter around him while you soak him with your orgasm.

The praise makes you keen, the words sounds of pleasure ripping out of your throat as you nearly black out. Feeling him start to slow down his thrusts, you open your eyes in confusion.

He pulls out of you when you relax against Ellaria. “I don’t want to cum yet.” He explains, his cock shiny with your cream and he smirks, shifting to lay down beside you and Ellaria who wastes no time pressing her lips to his. You whimper and Ellaria chuckles as she pulls back from Oberyn, grabbing your neck to push you towards him and his tongue immediately slides into your mouth, his hand squeezing your thigh. “I want you to ride my face while Ellaria rides my cock.” He demands, his cock still hard against his belly.

You moan into his mouth, nodding eagerly. They have completely taken over your senses and you will do anything they want. Sliding back so you can let Oberyn lay back. Leaning over to kiss Ellaria before she straddles his hips.

Oberyn groans as Ellaria sinks down on his cock and he desperately wants you to sit on his face. You don’t deny him as you shift to straddle his chest, shuffling back so you can hover over his face and he quickly pulls you down so your weight is on his mouth.

Oberyn is just as eager of a lover as Ellaria is. His fingers dig into your hips and his tongue is immediately pushing into your soaked walls. Making you cry out in his eagerness to devour you. Blowing past all your imagined scenarios and ideas of what would happen if you were ever with the two of them.

Ellaria reaches out to squeeze your tits as she bounces on Oberyn’s cock like she’s done many times. Oberyn twitches inside of her as she clenches around him and his tongue flicks over your clit, wanting you to grind down on him. His hands squeeze your hips to encourage you to move.

You lean forward, cupping her tits as well, tangling your tongue with hers in a frantic kiss. Your hips start to roll as you ride his tongue, the whiskers of his neat thin beard and mustache rubbing against you wonderfully.

He laps at your clit, loving the way you grind down onto him and Ellaria slides her tongue with yours, her moans smothered by your lips as she rides her partner in a well practiced dance. “Fuck.” Ellaria pants as she pulls back from your lips, her back arching as she grips your shoulders to work herself harder on Oberyn’s cock.

You whine, watching up close and in person the scene that had you in a chokehold since they have moved in. Watching as she rides him and now, you feel his tongue flicking against your clit as he pleasures you at the same time as his lover. It’s everything decadent and wicked, making you wish they had signaled you earlier.

Oberyn groans when he feels how close Ellaria is, his cock twitching inside of her, and he hisses when she starts to cum, clamping down on his cock. His fingers dig into your flesh as he works his jaw wider, tongue lapping at more of you. He’s desperate for you to cum and Ellaria slumps forward against you as she shakes on his cock.

You almost pull away from his tongue, nearly overstimulated by the way his mouth works over your cunt. The pure bliss on Ellaria’s face nearly makes you cum again, and it only takes a few more flicks of Oberyn’s tongue before you are crying out a garbled combination of their names.

Oberyn works you through it, Ellaria caressing your back and kissing along your neck as she shudders through the aftermath of her pleasure. Oberyn groans when Ellaria pulls off of his cock and kneels beside his body, “want us to suck your cock?” She hums, “my lover adores his cock being sucked.” She coos and trails her finger along the slick and creamy velvet of Oberyn’s length. He groans when you lift off of his face and kneel on the other side of his body.

“He deserves to have his cock sucked.” You agree, reaching out to swipe your finger through the juices that are gathered on the tip. Thrilled that all three of you are combined so beautifully. “He has made us cum so thoroughly on it, it deserves to be worshiped.”

Ellaria nods, gripping the base of Oberyn’s cock and he shifts to his elbows to watch two beautiful women work to make him cum. “Suck on the tip. He loves that.” She orders and you do as she says, leaning in to take the tip into your mouth. He groans and Ellaria leans in, her tongue sliding down the length until she is taking his balls into her mouth and rolling them with her tongue. “Fuckkkk.” Oberyn groans, his eyes closing for a second before he opens them.

It’s hedonistic, the way both of you are showering him in pleasure. Like you are whores in a brothel focused on his pleasure alone and it makes you want to make this the best experience he has ever had. Moaning around the tip as you suck greedily.

Oberyn reaches down to caress your cheek before he strokes Ellaria’s head. “Fuck. You two - so cock hungry. My little cock drunk whores.” He chuckles and his stomach clenches as you suck him a little deeper.

Your cunt bottoms out around nothing, aching despite the fact that you’ve already cum three times. Feeling like you might never get enough of these two. Your hand pumps what you aren’t sucking on until Ellaria’s clever mouth starts to work back up from his balls.

Oberyn hisses when Ellaria mouths the side of his cock while you work the tip. His dark eyes taking in the sight of both beautiful women and he hisses when you hollow your cheeks. “That’s it. Shit.” He groans when Ellaria slides her tongue higher to tangle with yours as she laps at the slit.

You’ve never kissed someone with a cock in your mouth but now you love it. Enjoying the way he hisses and his hips buck up to thrust into the space that your tongues are twirling around him. Moaning at the lewdness of the moment and wishing you have a video of this incredible night.

"Fuck. You're going to make me cum." Oberyn warns as you and Ellaria push him further to the edge. Your tongue tangles around the head and your hand rolls his balls while Ellaria pumps the rest of his length. "Mierda. I'm going to - fuckkkkk." He groans as he starts to cum, his hot seed hitting yours and Ellaria's lips.

You don’t try to take his cock down your throat, enjoying the way he spurts his seed over both of your faces and chins. Leaning forward when he’s finally done to kick it from Ellaria’s face with a pleased hum while a breathless Oberyn watches.

Oberyn slumps against the bed for a moment, closing his eyes as he relishes in his orgasm, loving the way you and Ellaria lick his cum off each other’s faces. “So fucking pretty.” He coos, reaching out to caress your lips before he caresses Ellaria’s.

You like his praises, smiling at them both while your body just hums at the satisfying thrill of your orgasms. “That was incredible.” You whisper, knowing that you should probably dress and go back to your apartment.

“It was. We would love to have you here again…if you wish.” Ellaria says, stroking your back. You both shift to lay on either side of Oberyn as he holds his arms out for you both to curl into. “My lover wants more of you.” Oberyn chuckles, “so do I.” He leans in to nudge his nose against yours, “join us again.” He murmurs his request.

It will be the easiest request you’ve ever agreed to. Reaching across him to caress Ellaria’s side as you kiss Oberyn’s chest. “As often as you wish.” You promise. No longer just a voyeur, you will be the one to be envied when someone else watches through the windows.

[madamebaggio]

Notes: Previously....

I got a wind here... I'm not really sure what's going on, but hopefully it'll sitck around for a while. lol

***

Chapter 6

Willas loved Oberyn, very much so.

They’d met very young, since affluent families tended to stick together in a way. Martells and Tyrells were just like that; their parents pushing them to get involved with the ‘right’ type of people.

They became actual friends some years later, once they were in middle school. Oberyn was already a hellion and Willas liked being with someone who didn’t expect him to be perfect.

As they both came from old money, there were expectations all around them. However, they both dealt with them differently. Willas accepted and embraced the responsibilities of being the eldest son of the Tyrells. Oberyn was the second son and could hardly give a fuck about reputation.

That wasn’t to say that Oberyn was irresponsible, because nothing could be further from the truth. He just didn’t feel the need to act the way the ‘polite society’ around them expected him to act. Oberyn wasn’t the type to hide what he felt or wanted, and Willas had always admired that in him. 

Once they got into University together, Willas felt freer to try things he’d never tried before. And at first, those things weren’t even that daring -miss a class, go out partying in the middle of the week.

The first time he kissed a man, it was one of Oberyn’s friends. It had been interesting to find out he was attracted to men, but he also figured out he wasn’t attracted to that man in particular -even though he was really handsome.

So Oberyn asked Willas if he wanted to try kissing him. Willas wasn’t sure why he said ‘yes’, but he did.

They had a kind-of relationship for a bit over two years. Oberyn was the one who assured him that it wouldn’t change their friendship, even if Willas wanted to stop everything. So they’d be together, kiss, fuck, cuddle, and then sometimes Willas would want to date someone else seriously, or Oberyn would skip town with a model, or a dancer or a photographer…

Most of their friends couldn’t understand how this worked so well for them, but it did. Willas didn’t feel entitled to Oberyn’s time and attention, he didn’t need him to be monogamous or faithfull, because that wasn’t what their relationship was about. They were friends and they occasionaly -or not so occasionaly -liked to fuck.

It worked for them.

Until the accident.

The point was… Willas loved Oberyn (not like a brother, because that’d be weird), and he knew the other man loved him too. It didn’t make him any less fucking furious.

Oberyn had no right to get Sansa Stark involved in this mess. She was young, bright and intelligent, and she deserved much better. She was also obviously the kind of girl that one dated, introduced to one’s family, held her hand…

She wasn’t made for illicit love affairs with two degenerates.

“Lord, help me, Willas.” Oberyn groaned dramatically. “Why are you acting like such a fucking martyr? Degenerates? Illicit affair?”

Willas glared at his friend. “Then what is this? A relationship? Should we visit Ned Stark and introduce ourselves?”

Oberyn snorted. “No, I’m scared of him.” He rolled his eyes when he saw Willas’ face. “Willas, stop acting like you’re throwing a virgin over your shoulder and carrying her to a tower.”

He was not acting dramatically.

Fine. Perhaps he was.

But! He was only doing that because of Oberyn. He didn’t believe -for a fucking second -that the other man wasn’t planning something. Oberyn had accepted a long time ago that Willas was a different person now. He’d never pressured Willas into rekindling their affair, and it seemed like he even understood why Willas broke it off completely.

He didn’t normally get involved in Willas’ love life, so this was something else. Oberyn was up to something.

“You know what I think?”

Willas scoffed. “Please, tell me.”

“I think you’re more bothered by the fact you do want this.” Oberyn threw at him.

“Oh please.”

“You like Sansa, you’re attracted to her, but you’re rather comfortable doing nothing about it.” Oberyn pressed. “And now I did something, and if she comes to us, you’ll be out of excuses.”

Willas glared at his friend. “I will throw my cane at you, Oberyn.”

Oberyn’s phone started ringing. “Hold that thought, love.” He winked at Willas, before pulling the phone out. He didn’t recognize the number, but answered it anyway. “Yes?” He opened a huge smile. “Sansa darling.”

Willas’ glare became even more intense.

Oberyn just smirked at him. “Of course I can talk to you now. It’s so good to hear your voice. How are you?” Silence as she replied. Oberyn chuckled. “I’ve been thinking about you too.” He paused to listen, then laughed again. “Oh, you didn’t mean it like that?” He teased her. “I did.”

Willas rolled his eyes and once again considered throwing his cane at his (former) friend.

“Willas?” Oberyn was looking at him. “I’ve talked to him about it. I know you’re concerned about him, love.”

Now Willas was frowning. Concerned about him? Why?

“I told you he finds you beautiful.” Oberyn was saying. “I’m not pressuring him or anything. I’d never.” He threw a wink at his friend. “Oh.” He became silent again, this time his eyes getting brighter and brighter. “Really? That’s a lovely idea, Sansa. Yes, we can discuss things during dinner.”

Finally hitting the limit of his patience, Willas shook his hands to get Oberyn’s attention and demand answers.

“I’ll discuss the best place to meet with Willas, right?” Oberyn ignored him. “We’ll have dinner, and talk, and maybe just that. Or maybe we’ll get you properly kissed.” He laughed again. “I’ll let you know when and where, okay? Take care, love. Bye.”

Oberyn was unbearably smug when he looked back at Willas. “She wants to meet and discuss things. She wants to know how it’d work and what we’d expect from each other.”

Willas pressed his lips together.

“She’s concerned about whether you’re really interested.” Oberyn pressed. “She doesn’t want to pressure you. Should I tell her I’ll meet her alone?”

“No.” Willas hissed. “Tell Sansa we’ll have dinner at my place.”

***

Sansa had agonized for way too long over lingerie for this dinner. She didn’t expect anything to happen that night -and wasn’t sure if she even wanted anything to happen so soon -but at the same time…

Margaery had once said to her that some things just have the power to make you feel more confident; like a new lipstick, those killer heels, and even sexy underwear that no one knew you were even wearing.

Sansa did need to feel a bit more confident, so she considered her sexiest lingerie set -Agent Provocateur, bought while she dated Harry and never used.

She’d seen their website and this was quite tame compared to some of the things there, but she loved the color and she felt sexy wearing it. It was exactly what she needed.

So she put on her sexy lingerie, a nice dress, nice heels and went to Willas’ house.

Oberyn had said it was the best place to meet, since they could talk freely and not worry about people overhearing them. He also made it quite clear that it didn’t mean anything other than that. They were not bringing her to Willas’ apartment waiting for something to happen.

She believed Oberyn.

Well, she believed him on that, because she still wasn’t so sure about Willas and his desire to be part of this.

She also wasn’t so sure if she wanted to be part of all of this, but she spent three weeks thinking about it, and she finally realized she needed to talk to them before coming to some sort of decision.

Yes, the idea was exciting and titillating. Yes, they were attractive and -hopefully -knew what they were doing. But Sansa wasn’t the girl who had one-night stands. She wasn’t daring and adventurous or even sexy, really…

She needed to know. She needed to ask her questions and see where it led her. She didn’t want to regret this.

Although then, knocking on Willas’ door, she felt like she just might regret it anyway.

“Sansa.” Willas smiled at her when he opened the door. “You look absolutely lovely.”

Oh… Maybe she wouldn’t regret this after all.

[toshidou]

I feel like there are not enough oberyn martel fics on this website. perhaps i should do something about that.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

A message from modern Oberyn? 🤣🫐

Omg Jules I have been laughing to myself about this since you sent it and I think it's time to let everyone else have a chuckle, don't you?

(read: I'm sorry it took me four score and seven years to answer this.)

He would absolutely send this text. From the other side of the couch while you're sitting right there with him, probably. It might even be his way to initiate make up sex if you're annoyed with him for whatever reason. (Looking better than me in yellow and not being more aware of his surroundings when taunting his victims are literally his only crimes though so I have no idea what he could possibly do to need to initiate make up sex because the man is perfection on legs.) But I digress.

So you get this text from Oberyn. And you can feel his eyes on you while you're opening it and reading it. You can feel his smirk and the arch of his eyebrow and the little purse of his lips so you already know what you're gonna see when you look over at him (and you like it, duh.) But you *try* to stay annoyed or unaffected because gods (old and new of course) damn it, you can't just let him win every time simply because he's perfect! (Yes you can and you know this. The acting unaffected is fun for you. And for him.)

You look over at him and you raise your own eyebrow and give him your own little lip quirk and say "I didn't get a picture" with a shrug because you didn't get a picture. He didn't send it. Yet.

The man just tilts his head and puts on a faux-confused pout, looks down at his phone and says "No? Hmm..." And then your phone dings again and there it is. THERE IT ALL IS. Your façade doesn't shatter it implodes and you can't even try to keep it together and all that perfect bastard says is "How about now?"

It takes you like 12 seconds just to remember how to breathe (which obviously you've been doing your whole life and it's quite rude/sexy of him to make you forget how so often) even though there's nothing in the photo you haven't seen with your own eyes (and hands and mouth, too, I mean let's face it). But when you do remember how to supply your brain with oxygen it comes up with the best response.

You just look at him and silently get up and start walking to the bedroom and then you look back over your shoulder to where he's still lounging on the couch with a grin like a cat who got the cream, you just say "Lest..." and then you take off your shirt and toss it at him and BY GODS (Again the old the new the drowned ones, all of those fuckers) he is up and after you in nothing flat.

And this is just a regular Wednesday night occurrence. Don't even get me started on the weekends. (or do)

Thank you so much for sending this and brightening my day and my thoughts by dropping Oberyn into them. I hope you're laughing as much as I am over this scenario!! <3

[sirowsky-stories]

The Old Prince

Part 10

Author's Note: I had hoped to post this on Friday, but a pesky work-weekend got in the way. Also, this was one of those chapters that never wanted to end! Which is why it's easily the biggest one yet.

Description: Your confrontation with Simon reveals some very big obstacles. (Sorry, it's a bit short, I don't wanna spoil anything.)

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Warnings: Monster Oberyn Martell x Female Reader, AU fic, obviously Halloween themed, reader cusses. Smut. And a kinda weird situation occurring in relation to the smut. Word Count: 9862 Author's Masterlist

   He reacts to the name as if he too remembers it, and somewhere deep within him, a rumbling which could rival even the toughest thunder starts to build.    It’s so immense that the very air vibrates with it, and when he opens his jaws to release it, you can hardly believe what you’re seeing when actual lightning accompanies the flame of magmatic intensity, destroying trees and unnatural creatures alike everywhere it goes.

   Then, just as your hope rekindles with the apparent shift of odds into your favor, the dying flames reveal that the spirits have finally arrived. But the reason for their tardiness becomes painfully obvious when you realize they’ve all been corrupted.    No longer the lightly glowing figures of mystical energies, they now appear to be solid, straining under their own weight, looking as though something’s tried to rip them apart, leaving strangely thick black smoke pluming out of their open wounds.

   Positioning themselves in a circle around the two of you, their new master commands them to destroy, and as if they’ve become puppets on strings, they obey without hesitation.    The polar bear, Ursa, is supposed to be able to freeze things at will, but her powers have also been mutated, so when she tries to create frozen spikes, like spears out of the ground, what happens instead is that she cleaves the ground, creating massive crevasses from which more roots and evil beings spring.

   Lupus normally channels the power of the earth to make things grow, and she still does, except there’s only darkness to feed. Only the destructive and malicious beings brought to life by the Darkling are aided by her efforts, doubling in size in mere seconds.    Meanwhile, Caelum is generating multiple twisters where she would ordinarily only manage to spark sudden microbursts for a few minutes at a time. The butterfly is somehow creating toxic spores where she would usually just be able to pollinate anything that grows.

   How Octopus is managing on land you have no idea, but she’s covering everything she touches with some kind of corrosive grey slime, which is especially bad considering the area she can affect with her size and the reach of her tentacles.    The bat’s normal power is giving sight to those who wander in the dark, but she’s now creating clouds made of soot, removing all visibility wherever she flies. Although she’s struggling so badly against the forces of gravity, usually not able to affect her much at all, that she’s barely able to get off the ground.

   Scarabaeus is supposed to be able to move through any solid structures, but her corrupted form is instead incapable of remaining solid at all, changing from liquid to gaseous form at random, which also has the very disturbing effect of leaving anything she passes through, completely disemboweled.    As for the deer, Cervus, who’s original power is the absorption of both energy and matter, she seems to be in a state of continuous implosion, like a star perpetually about to collapse, sucking everything into its core to be crushed.

   In your human form, you’ve never met the spirit of summer before, although you do know her from your other life. She’s easily the largest of the land-living spirits, rivalling Oberyn’s green dragon, although her current mass is much more concentrated than his was.    Also, she wouldn’t normally have much mass at all. But tonight, her might has been transformed from a benign gigantic horse, capable of bringing warmth even to the coldest of places, into a burning demon, seemingly made of oil.

   They attack without any coordination, or pre-determined plan of any kind, it seems, coming at Tyrannus from all angles at once. His size puts them at a disadvantage since only the flying ones can reach further up his body than his legs, but they’re unfortunately also highly tolerant to his flame, even with the lightning.    His scales are thick, though, shielding him from their mutated powers, leaving him mostly concerned with keeping you out of their reach.

   You know that even Lux has never witnessed all the spirits succumb to the dark one’s power before, because it’s never been allowed to get this far. But Simon’s clever deceit must’ve blinded them until it was already too late. Which begs the question:    Why are you not turning dark as well?    If the Darkling can have such a crippling effect on all the others, how is it you’re not feeling so much as a tingle in your fingertips?

   It could be your connection to Oberyn, since love is still more powerful than anything, but the more you think about it, the more it seems like it’s your human form which shields you from his influence.    Strangely, it makes a lot of sense. Because ordinary humans can’t see or be directly harmed by spirits, so logically, your alter ego should be impervious to his manipulation.

   However, your body might not be safe from his powers or the spirits’ ability to cause you serious physical harm.    You have demonstrated that you’re capable of incredible healing, but you don’t know how far that reaches. Even Oberyn isn’t completely immortal, so it stands to reason you might have a few limitations as well.

   He moves incredibly fast despite his size, having lost none of his usual agility since his body is still the same snakelike shape. So, even though his enemies are repeatedly attacking him from all sides, he manages to evade them while striking both punches and flames at them, slowing them down if not seriously damaging them.    Until Caelum manages to slip past his limbs and teeth, using one of her twisters as camouflage.

   Staying in your blind spot, she sinks her claws into your back before you’ve had a chance to notice her, and aside from the fact that having your skin ripped open is always terribly painful, it seems that the black oily stuff which covers them all is also either poisonous or acidic when it enters your blood. Because holy fuck, does it sting.    You’re already laying down as flat over the base of the dragon’s neck as you can manage, but the sharp, lasting pain makes you lose your grip just as Oberyn turns sharply to the left.

   “Kaivalya!” you hear a thunderous roar exclaim while you’re falling through the air, which confuses you.

   He can’t speak. Not as himself or as Tyrannus, his mouth and throat are incapable of forming words, so how did that just happen?

   It doesn’t matter much anymore when you realize you’re falling much further than what should be ground level, which must mean you’re careering into one of the many crevasses Ursa’s made in her attempts to unbalance the dragon.    Your front is facing up, so you can see the darkened sky as you continue to fall, until you drop far enough that the edges of the abyss come into view, crawling with roots and other malicious things, feeding off the conflict and the violence above.

   Then suddenly, a bright white tail is breaking through the increasing darkness around you. It effortlessly breaks through the meager defenses put up by the wormlike appendages of this evil Earth, reaching you with such speed and forcefulness that it sends you hurtling upwards instead, as though you were a tennis ball and his tail the racket.    And once you’re back above ground, easily reaching a thousand feet height at the crescent before you begin to fall back down, all three of the flying spirits are converging on you.

   A twister forms right beside you, sucking you in and then spitting you out even higher up, before Vespertilio sends a cloud of absolute darkness around you.    You know you’re far enough up that Oberyn has to fly to reach you, and if he was, his wings would create a thunderous sound as they beat against the air and the atmosphere, and you can’t hear anything like that.    But you can hear the rapid, strained flaps of the bat’s wings as it struggles to get to you.

   The darkness is so thick you can’t see your hands in front of your face, but you can feel that you’re once again falling and without seeing, you have no way of knowing how long it’ll take before you hit the ground.    Can you survive a broken neck? You don’t know. Just like you don’t know what happens if you get torn to pieces by the spirits. You might simply revert to your spirit form, but then that would likely make you corruptible again.    And maybe that’s exactly what Simon is after. Maybe all this is just about darkening you, because if he can do that, then there won’t be any more hope for the world.

   A sound reaches you from somewhere below, and then a strong huff of warm air disperses the cloud underneath you, letting you see that you’re still hundreds of feet from the ground. But you also see a pair of bright blue eyes, which then quickly disappear from your view when the largest jaws ever to exist on this planet are opened wide, right beneath you.

   “Trust me,” the same rumbling voice as before sounds, even though his mouth hasn’t moved.

   But it’s him. Either inside your head or somehow speaking to you through the ether, but you know without a doubt it’s your Oberyn.    And you do trust him. Which is why you let yourself fall forwards, straightening your arms out in front of you, turning your body into a spear so you’ll fall quicker.    It’s not without fear you pass his rows of giant teeth, falling paralleled to his tongue and heading right for his throat, held perfectly straight to facilitate your journey into his stomach, but he must have a plan.

   He closes his jaws in the same moment you reach the bottom of his mouth, and everything becomes pitch black.    You can feel your body continue to fall, even as the walls of his throat begin to close around you, slowing your descent surprisingly gently. And before you know it, you’re at the bottom. Although, it’s not how you might’ve imagined a dragon’s stomach might look, if you’d ever had the crazy idea to imagine being swallowed by one.

   There’s no fluid in there at all, to help break down your components and extract the nutrients from your body. And it’s anything but dark.    Just like with humans, his stomach sits adjacent to his lungs, so when the fire is sparked, his entire torso is lit up internally.    You can only see the shine, nothing of what else is actually inside of him, but it’s kinda beautiful.

   There’s an intricate and very symmetrical network of veins within the lining of the stomach, and when the fire illuminates them, the heat within his blood makes them glow. And yet, the temperature inside remains unchanged. Probably around forty degrees Celsius, feverishly warm for a human, which is how Oberyn has always seemed to you.    However, the sounds he makes are even louder in here, so when he suddenly roars, you’re instantly on your knees and doing your best to cover your ears, hoping your eardrums haven’t already burst.

   “Stop!” you try to yell when it never seems to end, but you can’t even hear yourself over the deafening vibrations.

   Apparently though, he can, because he immediately goes quiet, and then that deep voice finds you again.

   “Are you alright, my lady?”

   You must be hearing him inside your mind somehow, because even if you haven’t already gone deaf, your ears can’t possibly have recovered enough for you to hear normally yet.

   “No!” you half-shriek, confirming at least partial damage to your auditory system because you can hardly hear your own voice. “Keep it down, you just blew my ears out!”

   “Oh… My apologies. In my defense, I have never done this before.”

   “No shit…”

-=<>=-=<>=-=<>=-

   He knows you will be safe within him as this much older dragon ate only stone and magma to support his being when there was no other life on this world yet. It has no means of digesting human tissues and bones, nor the need for it.    From the beginning of this battle, the spirits have aimed almost exclusively at you, leading him to the conclusion that Simon has no interest in him, merely in acquiring the last free spirit and completing the Darkling curse.

   If this happens, the entire planet will become as the North American continent in a matter of minutes. All of it consumed by death, darkness and despair, with no hope or end in sight. And without Lux to bring back the sun, it will likely remain so for thousands of years.    Tyrannus is too powerful even for all of them combined to vanquish, but Oberyn is equally unable to annihilate Simon while the spirits fight for him, so until the two of you can discover how to liberate The Decem from the dark one’s sickening grasp, the best he can do is keep you safe.

   Gambling on the notion that these debased beings all seem unwilling to stray too far away from the group, he remains airborne after swallowing you, intent on leaving the scene as quickly as he can.    Of course, Caelum, Vespertilio and Papilio do not approve of this plan, and follow as he departs due east, back towards the coast.

   Their perverted powers are thrown recklessly in his path, the desperation to not disappoint their master now the single goal of their altered reality.    But their quarry is not only much larger than before. He is also armored with scales so thick not even the pressure and heat of the planet’s core could undo him, leaving their mediocre displays of strength little more than an irritation to his ascent.

   His theory about their tendency to remain with the group prove accurate when the three flying spirits veer off and return to the blackened landscape before he’s even left the American continent. This thought, however, offers him no peace. For they are stronger as a group, and the longer they remain so, they will fuel and feed the growing energies of hate and depravity until it eventually transforms them completely.

   They are still only darkened versions of their original selves, but if Simon has his claws embedded within them for long enough, he will turn their hearts to stone, and then they shall truly become the monstrosities of men’s most feared nightmares.    If this comes to pass, they will never again be returned to their former glory, no matter how much light you might shine upon them. And without them, the world will never truly recover.

   He heads northeast across the Atlantic, flying fast and very high now that you are travelling safely hidden from the extreme temperatures and lack of oxygen. The sky is remarkably clear once he leaves the ashes and unnatural darkness of America behind, and he wishes that you could see the beauty of the world from the thermosphere, nine kilometers above the surface.    As Lux, you probably have, but as a human, you never could.

   And there is something truly beautiful within such fragility.

   It doesn’t take long once he returns to the more familiar troposphere, before he is joined by yet more man-made flying machines, although this time, they wisely keep their distance and merely follow his journey, rather than attempt another confrontation.    Oberyn is glad for this, because aside from the fact that he does not wish to harm them, they may also become most important to the survival of the world, as even their relatively small firepower could prove crucial within the larger picture of this war.

   So, he makes no attempt to frighten them, flying calmly even as they dare a closer look.    Despite their oxygen masks, he can see their eyes quite clearly, and when one of the pilots pulls up alongside him, he can see how she tries to measure him from nose-tip to tail-end, raising her eyebrows in disbelief at whatever number she settles on.    He estimates roughly five hundred yards himself.

   These are British RAF fighters, which must mean that word of his existence has spread since his latest encounter with such crafts. Although, they all probably think there are two dragons at this point, as there is little resemblance between Tyrannus and his comparably puny longtime green alter ego.

   Whatever they believe is irrelevant. So long as he must not fight both humans and dark souls the world’s armies may create their own explanations for his presence. He requires only that they act to protect their lands, as even a small grenade lobbed at the spreading weeds of death will slow their advancement somewhat.    For now, the darkness is contained on the North American continent, unable to spread further until the air and the oceans have also been sufficiently infected. But it is only a matter of time.

   As he crosses over the British Isles, a warm updraft fills his wings, allowing him to soar effortlessly. Which is good since just one flap of his enormous wings will displace enough air to potentially create massive wind-shifts on the ground below.    The warm air sits lower in the atmosphere, however, leaving him quite visible to anyone who happens to look high enough, and given the sudden changes in the sounds he can hear from down there, at least some people do spot him.

   To that end, the fighter planes are no help, as their noisy engines easily draw people’s eyes upwards, but again, this is largely irrelevant.    Unless the two of you can discover how to defeat Simon, these people will know of worse things than dragons soon enough.    Dodging numerous commercial jets at various altitudes as he crosses directly above Manchester, Oberyn then leaves Great Britain behind, heading for the quieter skies of the Nordic countries.

   The RAF apparently are not cleared to continue following him into Norwegian airspace, veering off well before he crosses over land again.    For a moment, he amuses himself by imagining the communication between these pilots and Norwegian air traffic control, because he could picture how it must have sounded if they requested permission to continue following a dragon into Norway’s domain.

   Once certain he is alone, he finds a nice large mountaintop with a solid flat surface and sets down as gently as he can to avoid kicking off a rockslide.    You have been quiet since he accidentally broke your eardrums, and he hopes you will have healed already, but he worries that the injury might have nothing to do with your lack of interaction.

   “Valya?” he prods, keeping his volume low, and he can feel how you begin to move inside of him.

   “Yeah?” you reply, and you sound mostly tired.

   “We are safe for now. Would you like to come out?”

   “That depends… Would I be going back up, or continuing further down?”

   “Up, of course, my dear.”

   “Okay, just tell me what to do,” you sigh, but it is clear from your tone that you were only asking about the direction as a way of relieving tension.

   “I would prefer not to regurgitate you, but if I lay my head down and keep my body standing, you should be able to crawl out on your own.”

   “Alright, give it a try.”

   He does as he has suggested, and then experience the peculiar sensation of what a human might compare to an ant trying to crawl out of their throat.    It tickles, but not enough to cause him discomfort, and before long he can feel your footsteps pattering over his tongue and then climbing past the row of teeth on his lower jaw, before a muted thud lets him know you have hit the ground.    Closing his mouth and raising his head enough that he can see the ground directly before him, he finds you brushing snow off your pants, and you appear unharmed.

   “How are your ears?” he asks, and you stop moving to meet his eyes.

   “Better. But how am I hearing you? Is this some kind of telepathy?”

   “No, not quite. As I understand it, this is only possible between the two of us, and only because of the unique bond we now share.”

   “Right. Which bond, though? I can think of at least two.”

   “Love and Tyrannus?” he guesses, to which you nod, so he elaborates. “All these years, you’ve carried the white dragon within you, unknowingly becoming one with it, so familiar with its energy that you didn’t even realize it when you began to feed it to me. Because to your heart, there is no distinction. We are the beings you love, and we love you equally.”

   “Do you feel different? I mean, like there’s two of you in there?”

   “Tyrannus has not been alive for eons. He is only energy now. But I do feel some things so deeply engraved into his soul they cannot be erased. His anger… and his hope. Mere echoes now, and yet, so undeniably clear.    He was truly mighty.”

   “So are you, Oberyn,” you say softly, smiling slightly as you admire his new form, before you seem to will yourself to return to darker matters. “Unfortunately, we have less pleasant things to talk about, starting with where we are.”

   “I believe it’s called the Scandes. The mountain range between Norway and Sweden.”

   “Okay. And why are we here?”

   “Because we need to think, and this place is quiet. This far north there’s hardly any air traffic and aside from the occasional hiker, not a lot of people. This time of year, it is a bit cold, but nothing I cannot shield you from.    I have wandered these hills and mountains many times in my life, and they have always helped to soothe my worries.”

   “I believe you. I feel calmer already. And it does seem prudent to steer clear of the States until we at least have a plan.”

   You cross your arms over your waist but then remember that you are still wearing the same torn clothes as before, and this seems to deflate your energy somehow.

   “So, can you still change back, or will all that,” you gesture to his general enormity, “not fit within the human form anymore?”

   “It will. Although I am hesitant to leave us so vulnerable. My human form is still the weakest part of me.”

   “And who’s gonna come after us here?”

   “It is the threats one doesn’t see coming that are the most dangerous.    But I see your point.”

   Strangely, it feels exactly the same to return to this shape despite the extreme change he has undergone. The dragon folds away as fluently and easily as it always has.    But it does throw him for a moment, to suddenly lose the higher perspective, and he hadn’t considered just how much better Tyrannus’ senses are. He feels almost blind at first, even though his own senses are still far superior to ordinary humans.

   “Are you alright?” you ask, noticing his disorientation.

   “Yes. Just slightly jarred. The difference in size is a bit befuddling at first.”

   “I’m sure it is, but at least I can hug you now,” you say while closing the distance between you and wrapping your arms around him in a firm embrace.

   “Oh, I have missed this,” he admits while he mirrors you, breathing in your scent once more and relishing in the feeling of your body pressed against his.

   In that regard, there is no comparison. Nothing ever feels as good as your skin against his own, no matter how incredible the dragon’s senses are.

   “It’s hard to believe it was still just this morning that we woke up together in your bed. I mean, we’ve been jumping between time zones, so the actual hours might be more, but it’s still the same date.”

   “Indeed. How strange that everything seemed so simple then,” he observes, recalling the hours he spent watching you sleep, thinking of nothing but you and how you make him feel.

   His entire world had fit into that bed in those precious, serene hours.

   “Fucking Simon…” you growl after a minute, pulling away from him as your stress once again increases. “I can’t believe he manipulated all the spirits. I mean, I know they’re emotionally driven, but aren’t they supposed to have better instincts than to be fooled by a Darkling?”

   “Well, no, actually,” he replies simply, to which you seem quite perplexed, so he continues. “The only way for any spirit to discern the presence of a Darkling is by the effect it has on the world. To find the being itself, only its capacity to see and interact with them is what provides them a definitive answer.    They can immediately sense if darkness is tainting the world, and where, but they rely on evil to reveal itself, as it always does.”

   “Wait… that would mean Simon must’ve understood more about them from the start than any other dark one before him, to let him use their blind spots against them like that.    But I don’t get it. He said he’d been practicing, using his powers, honing them for a long time. How could he do that without them reacting to it, at some point?”

   “How he knew about his powers I cannot fathom. No Darkling is born with this understanding. However, if he discovered a way to use them without allowing them to infect anything, then it is possible The Decem were unable to detect it.”

   “Not even Caelum? She can’t just sense darkness in the air somehow?” you wonder, getting frustrated enough to start pacing around him, but remaining close since his warmth is all that shields you from the Nordic winter chill.

   “No. Only if that power manages to dilute the air, as it now has over the American continent,” he answers, and you throw your arms out to the sides in a gesture which he interprets to be burgeoning anger at Simon’s apparent advantages.

   He understands your feelings, especially since you cannot recall any of the details surrounding the spirits and their capabilities, but unfortunately, your foe is the very worst this world has to offer.    As much as he wishes to shield you, he must also make sure you realize exactly what it is you are up against.

   “I don’t know if you noticed, but the clouds there are no longer clouds, just dead spores and ashes, remnants of nature now reduced to particles of death. And once he gathers enough of them, he can send those clouds across the seas to infect other parts of the world.    In time, his evil will turn all oceans into vast fields of mud and oil, impossible to travel over or through, filled with the same mutated monstrosities we saw over there. And eventually, the air will be so thick with these ashes that no sunlight will reach us anymore, at which point… salvation will no longer be possible.”

   You stop pacing then, once more wrapping your arms around yourself as if the winds have sent a chill through you, despite the heat he radiates towards you.    There is fear in your eyes as you are probably imagining the world his words are painting for you, but you bite it back, determined to find a solution.

   “So, what can we do? How do we stop him? Because I doubt we can save the spirits without first freeing them from his darkness.”

   “You are correct. Only the destruction of the Darkling will end his reign.    Unfortunately, aside from the spirits, I know of nothing which can kill him,” he admits, but you are undeterred by this.

   “You were there when they killed the last one, right?” you recall, to which he merely nods since he can guess where you are going with this. “So, how did they do it?”

   Oberyn has avoided visiting the details of this memory for a very long time, but you are right to ask this question, as even though the spirits are not going to be able to help you this time, their methods might reveal some useful information.

   “It happened nearly four millennia ago. He was a simple farmer, a good man by all accounts. Until a conflict in their settlement broke out and his wife and two children became the victims of circumstance.”

   “The Darkling had a family?” you skeptically question.

   “Unlike Simon, they are usually unaware of the evil within until something happens to them which is so painful that their souls are torn apart. This unleashes the darkness and forever destroys the person they once were.    This man went from a loving husband and father to a vicious beast, holding nothing back and sparing no one from his rage. He turned the lands upon which he had lived from a jungle teeming with life, into a pit of death into which countless thousands of people and animals were pulled and tortured to death. He had no wish to corrupt them or turn them into evil beings, he merely wished for all things to die as painfully as anything can.    Today, the place is known as the Lonar crater of southern India, but it was neither made by a meteor strike, nor as long ago as science estimates.”

   “His evil created a crater?”

   “When living things rooted to the ground are tainted with darkness, they spread it through the bedrock in search of other things to infect, which can lead to the collapse of entire mountains, given enough time.”

   “How much time?” you ask, and he can see in your eyes that you are worried about how long it might take before Simon’s evil will create eternal scars upon the Earth.

   “This Darkling reigned for three centuries before The Decem was able to stop him. And at that point, the entire European, Asian and African continents were covered in darkness.”

   He gives you a minute with that, because it seems to affect you most severely, but the story is not yet over.

   “I had no intention of joining the fight, as I could simply fly away from it, not wanting to realize that as it continued to spread, there would eventually be nowhere left to go.    But in the end, it was not the understanding that the world was ending which convinced me to go back, but simply the thought that I would not be the worst monster among such things. That in their midst, I might actually appear… beautiful.”

   You step closer to him then, unfolding your arms to place a gentle hand over his cheek. A silent reminder of how you see him, regardless of his form, and he takes a moment to lean into your touch.

   “I was late to the party, however,” he continues then. “For a mere fortnight I battled the darkened vegetation at the heart of its outbreak, trying to carve a path to the man responsible, unaware that I was closely monitored by the spirits.    At this point, only four of them had avoided getting caught by the darkness. Ursa, Papilio, Cervus and Equus.”

   “The elements,” you observe. “Are they somehow stronger than the others?”

   “Not stronger, but perhaps more resilient against corruption. Although, I don’t know why.    In any case, my efforts eventually led them to the Darkling, and once they had access to him, he never stood a chance.    He couldn’t see them coming, so when they all charged him together, he was immediately overpowered.    Ursa impaled him with her icicles, and then each of them took one limb and one direction, pulling him apart, not at the joints, but at the weakened area at the center of his chest where the spears of ice had already broken his spine and sternum.”

   “And that was it?”

   “No, he was still alive afterwards, bleeding black goop into the soil which seemed to superpower the mutated vegetation. Roots the size of redwoods erupted from the ground, all aiming for the spirits, because so long as he was still alive, the Darkling could reassemble himself.    But the elementals knew better. They had already abandoned the severed pieces, locating his heart instead. Not a lump of red flesh, but rather a small grey stone covered in coiled up vines.”

   “So, his heart has to be destroyed before he’ll ever really be dead? How predictable.”

   “Indeed. Had Scarabaeus been able to, she would’ve been the one to do it by simply passing through the stone, turning solid in the middle of it. But as she was already dead, Equus was the one who delivered the final blow,” Oberyn finishes, recalling the quaking bedrock in the aftermath of the horse’s powerful stomp.

   He closes his eyes for a few seconds then, hoping you have not detected the sorrow which plagues him at the memory, for he knows not how to explain it.    As much as he wishes to ensure you will be well informed of all aspects of your foe, he is leaving out one detail of this gruesome story. Which is that the man, the grieving human, had reemerged once his body had been broken and the darkness within him begun to pour out.    In those final moments before his life had truly been ended, he was just a devastated father, as tortured and tormented as those whom he had killed.

   Simon might be different, but he was not born with malicious intent. At some point, something must have happened to him to make him aware of his own darkness, and rather than fear it, he chose to embrace it. But before this, he was likely a normal human boy, with normal human feelings.    Which means if you succeed in stopping him, he might revert to that being in the moments before his end, and if this should happen, you will be forced to watch that boy die in agony.

   “Okay, dumb question maybe, but it still needs to be asked,” you sigh, while attempting to massage your own neck. “Can’t we just drop a small mountain on top of him, then? I mean, if all we need to do is crack his dead heart to pieces.”

   “Unfortunately, that won’t work, because even if his body is damaged, he can heal it so long as his heart is intact.”

   “And, let me guess: because it’s made of stone, the vines around it are enough to make it nearly indestructible from the outside?”

   You read the answer in his eyes without him even changing his expression, and you let your head hang low for a minute while you try to think.

   “You said that the other Darkling couldn’t detect the spirits. Is the same true for Simon?”

   “Yes. But since you’re human, he will be able to detect you.”

   “God damned it. Can’t we just catch one fucking break!” you end on a scream, turned away from him, sending your voice out over the mountain range where it echoes around for much longer than your ears can hear.

   He steps closer and wraps his arms around your waist from behind, feeling you relax into his chest almost as if unaware of it yourself.

   “How do we stand a chance without the spirits?” you ask, and in your voice, he can hear such pain.

   Not for fear that you will suffer, if he knows you as well as he believes to, but for fear of how much the world will suffer in each moment you stand idle, unable to act because of the staggering lack of options.

   “As Oberyn, I was able to carve a path for them through the death-lands. As Tyrannus, I am certain I can do the same for you, however powerful our foe might be.    The question we face is not how to reach him, but how to get close enough to rip his heart out when he is protected by the mighty nine.”

   For a long while, you stand silent within his embrace, although he feels certain he might be able to hear how hard you are thinking if he should focus well enough.    Then, something moves through you. He can feel it, not because you actually move, but through a sudden and very distinct shift in your energy.    No longer somber and despondent, you whirl around and take his hands, abruptly confident, as you appear to have uncovered something workable.

   “I might be human, but I’m also light itself. And if there’s any reason I can think of to keep me separate from the other spirits, it must be because I’m their protector.    My place in all this isn’t to fight the Darkling, it’s just to save them. That’s my purpose,” you animatedly explain, your eyes alight with understanding, while he remains uncertain.

   “But… how can you? They are no longer spirits at all; their very essences have been destroyed.”

   “No, I don’t believe that. Because if it was true, their mystical powers would’ve disappeared completely, but they haven’t, they’re just corrupted. I can bring them back, Oberyn.    Don’t you see? My light heals me because that’s what it was always meant to do: heal spirits.”

   Suddenly your confidence becomes infectious, as he realizes how much this all sounds true and right.    There must be a reason for your detachment to the others, a reason behind the fact that not even the protectors of this world can recognize you, and this might well be it.    But his hope is still stunted by one stubbornly persistent problem.

   “Alright. Then I suppose all you need to do is figure out how to use it,” he says, and sees the optimism disappear from your frame as if an arctic wind has swept by and stolen it.

   He takes a deep breath to re-center himself, reaching the conclusion that none of this is going to be solved right here and now. The world suffers while solutions evade you, but there is nothing to be done about that. If you rush in without a plan, one that actually has a fighting chance, you may well doom the earth to eternal darkness.

   “Come, my love. You need new clothes, food and a night’s rest. There’s a village close by; we will go there to recover for now.”

   You are not happy with this suggestion. He can see protests wanting to escape your mouth in the way you repeatedly search for the right words to voice your complaints. But in the end, you find none, allowing his reasoning to stand unchallenged.    Backing away, he brings forth the ancient beast, once again slightly offset by the extreme shifts in perspectives and sensory input. You look so small as he offers you his front paw and then lifts you up to his shoulder.

   Not wanting to scare people with a dramatic entrance, he decides to walk down the mountain, surprisingly well camouflaged against the snow and protruding rocks in the dark. But this does not prevent him from being spotted by a couple apparently living on the damned mountainside, where no one should have been able to build anything.    Slightly shocked to suddenly hear voices beneath him, he stops, finding their house perched on an outcrop, seemingly without any road or lift leading up to it.    How do they even get to the village for supplies?

   They are understandably equally shocked to see him, merely standing paralyzed as he observes them for a few moments.

   “Norwegians are unusual people,” he says to you in his mind, to which you chuckle.

   “The Vikings wouldn’t have been nearly as successful in their conquests if they’d allowed terrain to stand in their way.”

   He does not argue this point, as he has seen Vikings for himself and knows firsthand just how hardy and resilient they were.    You are still several miles from the village at this point, so the couple will likely not cause any widespread panic. He leaves their home untouched, walking carefully past it so as not to trigger any avalanches, and when he reaches the little town down by the fjord, it looks perfectly calm and still.

   Creeping as close as he dares, he doesn’t change back until he is just a few hundred yards from the closest houses, to keep the distance you will have to walk as short as possible since it takes so much more time. But no one seems to notice.    It’s late, but the tourist center should still be open, and they often have emergency supplies for unfortunate travelers, such as clothes, in the event someone’s luggage is lost, and stores are closed.    It is easy to find, sporting large flags on top of the single-story building, and it is still open.

   “Hei, vhordan kan jeg hjelpe deg?” a tall blonde woman behind the reception greets when you approach her desk.

   “Hi, we’re American,” you start, and the woman immediately repeats her greeting in English, which you politely thank her for before continuing. “As you can see, I’m in dire need of some new clothes. You wouldn’t happen to have some sweaters and jackets for sale, would you?”

   “Certainly, follow me and I’ll show you where,” the receptionist smiles while getting up to assist you. “May I ask what happened?”

   “Oh, that’s a long story and I’m very tired. Do you know if any hotel in town might have a room available?”

   “There’s only one hotel here, but last I heard they weren’t fully booked for this week. It’s easy to find, just head down to the water and follow the road, you’ll see the signs.”

   “Thank you,” you reply as you arrive in the gift shop area of the center, where there is an entire section devoted to equipping both humans and common pets to survive arctic weather.

   You know your size and pick a thinner sweater along with a thicker jacket, to give you more options based on where in the world you and Oberyn might end up next. But as you are beginning to move back towards the receptionist’s desk, where the items must be paid, you lean closer to him and whisper.

   “Uh, I’m assuming you have some way of paying for this, because I don’t.”

   “Not to worry, darling. I never go anywhere without this,” he says, while pulling out a blank card from a concealed pocket in the side of his coat.

   It connects to a bank account in the name of one Christopher Wilkins, who does not exist except on paper, but has a few million dollars all the same. Oberyn has twenty of these identities, all of which have similar accounts at dozens of different banks around the world, which all together adds up to over one billion dollars.    He offers the card for payment and the purchase goes through without difficulty.    You get changed in the bathroom before you leave the tourist center, walking towards the hotel hand in hand, when northern lights suddenly appear above you.

   “Are you doing this, Valya?” he asks with a smile, knowing he is probably wrong but wanting to believe it could be true.

   “If I am, it’s not by choice,” you sigh, looking up at the dancing green spectacle with awe. “I wish it were, though.”

   The hotel is as easy to locate as the receptionist suggested, and you arrive to find the doors open despite the clock on the wall next to it reading nearly 11 pm.    Only half of the thirty rooms are occupied, so he pays for a night in a larger suite even though the two of you do not require so much space. He just wants you to be comfortable, and the suite has a bathtub, which he feels might be needed to get you to relax.

   The hotel uses old-fashioned keys for the rooms, so once inside, he drops them into a plastic bowl on a sideboard in the hall, and then immediately begins to work on the buttons of his coat.    You hang up your new jacket, kick off your snowy wet boots, and head straight for the double bed to lay down.

   “I feel like I could sleep for a week. But you’re probably not even tired.”

   “Not like you, but I could do with a few hours. Adjusting to Tyrannus has taken a bit more effort than my usual transformation. Plus, we don’t know when we might get the chance to rest again.”

   Shrugging off the coat, he hangs it up in the hallway closet and sits down on a stool helpfully placed beside the closet, to unlace his shoes.

   “And what about food?” you inquire, turning your head towards him as you have undoubtedly not forgotten the green dragon’s appetite and likely draw the conclusion that the much larger white one must require much more.

   “Strange though it may seem, aside from a rather unusual craving for pistachios, both my alter ego and I are perfectly fine,” he explains, momentarily wondering if the hotel restaurant might be open, and if he should go in search of some nuts.

   However, once the moment passes, he feels only confused by his own hankering.

   “But you haven’t eaten anything all day, and you’ve been fighting a lot.”

   “Actually, I did eat some unfortunate bystanders in Detroit,” he recalls, which prompts you to sit up on the edge of the bed.

   “Detroit was horrible. In every way. All those emergency responders… they died horrifically, and I just stood there,” you remember, and tears form in your eyes at the images which must be burning the insides of them. “I couldn’t do anything.”

   “No, you could not have helped them. Those creatures may have been alone, untethered to the greater darkness, but that is also what made them so erratic and unpredictable, though still just as deadly.”

   “Yeah…” you agree, turning your gaze down to your own hands, but then something seems to occur to you, as a crease bothers your brows. “But I made one of them stop.”

   This surprises Oberyn, who is just about to stand having finished with his shoes, and instead remain still as he waits for you to elaborate.

   “I yelled at it to stop, and it did. Just for a moment, and right before you came barreling onto the same street, but it stopped. And it looked angry about it.”

   “As if it had been halted against its will?”

   “That’s what it felt like, but I can’t be sure. Do you think I could’ve managed to command it somehow? Is that something Lux could do?”

   “Possibly. The true power of Day is her ability to spread hope. If you were desperate enough, it is conceivable that you could have forced this creature to stop by using the sunlight as a physical barrier.”

   “I can do that?”

   “I should think so. You created an entire human being with it, I’d say you could definitely stop one little monster if you set your mind to it,” he winks at you, before getting up and moving towards the bathroom.

   “If only I knew how the hell I do these things,” you say as he disappears into the tiled space and turns on the tap for the tub.

   “You’ll figure it out, I have no doubts about that,” he replies while checking the temperature of the water, returning to the bedroom before he continues. “On a more positive note, the innocents I killed in Detroit will be the last innocents ever to fall victim to my beast. Nothing like that will ever happen again, because this dragon doesn’t need food of any kind.”

   You have your head resting in your hands when he emerges from the bathroom, but you straighten out as you hear his words, and quietly trace his path over to the bed where he takes a seat beside you.

   “Really? How can you be certain? You’ve only had it in you for a few hours.”

   “Did you not notice the complete lack of stomach acid in there.”

   “I did, but I figured maybe you had another stomach somewhere and I just wasn’t far enough through the system to be at any risk of digestion.”

   “No there’s only one stomach, but this dragon stopped eating long before Lux changed him. And even when he did eat, it was at a time before organic life had evolved into actual creatures, so he fed only on magma and rocks. It’s what made him grow to such a size and develop those incredibly thick scales.”

   “Yeah, I’ll bet. Who needs protein when you’ve got minerals.”

   He smiles at you then, even though you are not trying to be amusing, delivering the phrase with sarcasm rather than joviality. You are too tired to enjoy yourself now, so instead of contesting your mildly snarky attitude, he sweeps you off the bed and into his arms in a swift and soft movement, returning to the bathroom where he puts you down in front of the just filled up tub.

   “Are you trying to tell me I’m dirty without using any words?” you ask, still presenting the same general irritation, which is why he merely continues to smile warmly while he undresses you.

   It takes only minutes for the hot water to begin relaxing you, while Oberyn gently helps you wash your back and shoulders, then your feet, before leaving you to just soak and warm your battered muscles while he steps over to the shower and rinses himself off.    He is surprised to find that he has neglected to notice you leaving the tub, when your hands are suddenly returning the favor, rubbing liquid soap into his back. But he loves the feeling, having never experienced such care from a partner before, and remains still to let you work.

   Before long, you are both clean from head to toe, which is when the caring touches change character, becoming craving instead.    He brings you back to the bed without bothering to grab a towel on the way, abruptly needing you so badly he cannot wait long enough even for you to squeeze the bulk of the water from your hair.

   Last night had been soft and tender, but when he enters you tonight, it is with fervency, perhaps even a streak of frenzy, giving you hardly any time to adjust before he is already working up a strong rhythm with firm snaps of his hips, making you jolt with each one.    He feels strangely uncontrolled. Fully aware that such treatment could hurt you, but utterly unable to stop himself. Something drives his body which is not so simple a thing as lust. There is a deeper purpose at work, one he cannot discern, but remains a slave to for now.

   You seem only pleased with him, though, showing no indication of distress or discomfort, meeting his forceful movements with an equally firm resistance, as if under the same spell he is.    The need drives him so relentlessly that he reaches his peak in mere minutes, coming hard within the depths of your being, where he is so warmly received.    But you do not follow.

   As he stills above you, your body remains unsatisfied, which gives him a sickly feeling to his stomach, because however much he seeks his own pleasure, yours is the real price. But this entire copulation has felt off, which intensifies his disappointment with himself, so when he pulls back, seeking your eyes so that he might beg your forgiveness, he is more than ashamed of himself. He feels rotten.

   The feeling leaps away, however, when shock takes its place as he sees your face.    Your eyes are frozen, staring at nothing, and the tension in your body has given way to complete relaxation. Too complete.

   “Valya?” he whispers, unable to bring any strength to his voice because what he sees within your eyes now is not life.

   “Lux?” he tries, even weaker now, hoping merely your human form is lost to him, while the spirit remains.

   Your own alter ego taking over, much as the dragon has done to him in the past.    But there is no response from you. No breath. No pulse.

-=<>=-=<>=-=<>=-

   You feel wonderful. Even when he pounds into you, all you experience is pleasure, wanting more no matter how good he makes you feel. The pressure builds and shifts, flowing through you at different intensities depending on your breaths, which muscles are tense and which nerves are most directly affected.    It feels like flying through clouds of pure pleasure, devoid of thoughts or intentions.

   And then it just… stops.    You feel how he comes, and you’re just one moment away from following up with the best orgasm of your life when everything suddenly goes quiet and still. Not just around you, but in you. No more pleasure, no more heat or sweat or even the cold sensation of the sticky fabric underneath your head, drenched by the water from your hair.

   Opening your eyes, you find yourself elsewhere. There’s no Oberyn, no bed, no hotel room. You’re not even sure there’s an Earth.    But there is a presence.    Nothing around you is identifiable, the best you can come up with is that it looks like something Jackson Pollock might’ve painted if someone had asked him what life on a gas-giant might look like. And yet, something here is familiar.

   It’s neither light nor dark, and at the same time it’s both, but it’s almost like your eyes and brain aren’t designed to interpret what they’re seeing, so all you get is a colorful mess with the appearance of a flashlight slowly spinning around in the middle of it.    Then you seem to blink, and suddenly you’re staring at yourself, as if there was a mirror in front of you. Only your reflection doesn’t move with you.

   “Hello?” you try to say, but no sound comes out, leaving you wondering if you even have a mouth here.

   That’s when you realize you aren’t breathing either, so wherever you are, this is a place outside of normal space.    You wonder if it could be some form of heaven, although you don’t believe in that, but it also doesn’t seem like it would be.    No, in your heart you know this is something else. Important to you, specifically.

   Your reflection doesn’t move, but you feel certain it holds answers for you, so you try walking towards it. Your legs don’t seem to move at all, but you still glide closer to the other you, so perhaps all you need to do is think of the movement.    When you get closer, her chest starts to glow, as if there’s a shining gem halfway between her throat and her breasts. Then she raises her hands to show you how they’ve started shining as well, right in the centers of the palms, getting brighter with each passing moment.

   Eventually, the light becomes so bright you can’t see anything anymore, but your eyes remain open, unbothered by the complete whiteness.    And that’s when you suddenly understand what this is.    Why it happened in the middle of a moment of passion, you have no fucking clue, but given how important it is, you don’t linger on the inexplicable, taking the win instead.

   Because you’ve finally found Lux. Somewhere within yourself, she connects you to this other place. Her world. Outside all other aspects of reality, by the looks of it, but clearly also able to interact with everything, everywhere.    She made you, but at the same time, she is you, and here in her world, you’re able to see things the way she does. You understand the power of light and the ways in which you can bend it to your will, as if you’d done nothing else your whole life.

   And once everything is clear to you, once you’ve unlocked all this knowledge she put in you from the start, the whiteness turns to dark, gravity returns, your lungs expand on reflex as oxygen once again exists, and you open your eyes to find that the darkness was just the insides of your own eyelids.

   Surprisingly, though, it isn’t Oberyn’s face you look up at, but rather two very shocked paramedics, who despite their training, freeze when you come to.    Apparently, you’ve been “dead” for a while.

   “Oh… Well, this is awkward,” you say to try and relieve the tension, and then there’s a loud racket before Oberyn appears beside you, having risen so quickly his chair fell over.

   He doesn’t speak, but his eyes scream of the pain he’s suffered in however long a time you’ve been unresponsive, so to ease his worries, you ignore the urgings of the medical staff for you to remain still, and sit up to hug him. He trembles like a leaf in your arms, holding you very tightly, before he reaches down behind you to pull the covers up over your bare shoulders. You hadn’t even reflected on the fact that you’re naked.

   “What happened?” he finally asks, his voice sore with how hard he must’ve cried.

   But you smile in return, so filled with hope now that not even his sorrow can dampen your spirits.

   “You brought me to the light, honey,” you tell him, and his sadness gives way to confusion.

   There’s no quick or easy way to explain what you’ve just experienced, so you settle for the most important part, which can’t be seen, only felt.    You reach out and place one hand on the shoulder of the paramedic closest to you, locating the darkness in her heart without effort.

   “Don’t worry about your father, Nora. He’s not going to hurt himself, he just needs you to stop and listen to his pain,” you say, feeling her father’s agony through the bond of love between them. “You always want to fix everything that hurts, but sometimes pain has a purpose. Let him tell you about it, and I promise you, he will be alright.”

   The middle-aged woman looks at you as if you’ve just reached into her heart and given it a good twist, which in truth, you sort of have.

   “H-… How do you kn-…?” she tries, but then sorrow rocks through her, stealing her voice.

   To answer her, you let the hand at her shoulder channel the light from your own heart, and it glows for just a second as you pour hope into her being.    Her sorrow immediately lessens, brightening her eyes and smoothing the tense lines around her mouth.    You smile softly at her, and she nods in gratitude, even though she doesn’t understand what’s just happened, before starting to pack up their gear. Her colleague looks like one giant question mark, but apparently decides not to argue.

   They leave a minute later, and Oberyn places a hand at your jaw, drawing your gaze back to him.

   “I do not pretend to understand anything of what has just transpired here, but… you are ready now. Aren’t you? To fight.”

   “I am,” you confirm. “I know what we need to do.”

   “Does that mean we’re going back to America?”

   “No,” you firmly state, finally without a shred of doubt within you. “It means we’re going everywhere else.”

Part 11

The Ten Spirits of the World Air - Forest - Water - Stone - Night - Autumn - Winter - Spring - Summer.

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