#oberyn + an apology kiss

[something-tofightfor]

2023 Summer Kiss Prompt #8: Oberyn Martell - Apology Kiss / Jealous Kissing

These were the two most difficult prompts for Oberyn ... and yet they made total sense to combine.

Thank you to @oonajaeadira and @crazysouthernlady for trusting me with our favorite Dornishman.

I got a little carried away with this one, but what Oberyn wants, he gets.

This is not connected to any other Oberyn I've written - so please enjoy.

Word Count: 4,102

Even though you knew that Oberyn operated on no one’s schedule but his own, it was unlike him to be so late. With one final glance down at your watch, you sighed, rolling your eyes as you raised a finger to signal the bartender.

“What can I get you?” The young woman grinned, her eyes sparkling from behind heavy, dark lashes. Wonder if he’s the one that hired her. “Another of the same? What was it, Blood and Sand?” 

“Yeah. That sounds good. I think that he’s going to be …” You trailed off, shrugging. “Much later than I anticipated.” She gave you a sympathetic smile, raising an eyebrow and nodding before she turned away. Only a minute or so later, the drink was in front of you, along with a small bowl of the snack mix that the bar was known for - fresh berries, salted nuts and an assortment of crackers. “Thank you.” 

Oberyn had asked you to meet him there that night, promising that once he finished handling a few things in the afternoon, he was yours for the rest of the weekend. But the time he’d said he’d meet you came and went more than an hour earlier, and the single message you’d sent to ask if everything was alright had gone unanswered. Unread, actually. 

You knew he was busy. Knew that what you had between you wasn’t defined, and that being with someone as in demand as him was bound to lead to disappointment in the long run. But he’s never flat out ignored me before. He’s never blown me off. 

Sipping through the straw, you let your gaze wander around the inside of the bar. It was the third location of the small chain he managed with his brother and sister - one concept designed to match each of their personalities - and it was one of the hottest spots in town.Has been for months. 

You’d met him there while attending the grand opening with a group of your friends, catching the man’s eye from across the room while the four of you laughed and drank thanks to an invite through work. You knew who he was immediately, and had no plans to approach him, because you were no stranger to his reputation. 

But Oberyn’s plans were different. 

Not even ten minutes later, he’d sent over a round of drinks to the table along with a message that the remainder of your night was taken care of, too - no strings attached. You met his eye again as he raised a drink in one hand, his wink visible even across the crowded room - and from over the shoulder of the dark haired woman draped across his lap. 

You gave him a nod and a small smile of your own, but had left it at that - until you were leaving a few hours later and the path to the door took you by his VIP area. 

The silken curtains that had previously been opened to expose the booth to public view were closed. You hadn’t seen him leave, so you figured that he was still inside - but what you hadn’t counted on was the sound of a voice carrying through a crack in those curtains and curling into your ears like smoke. “I hope you enjoyed your evening.” 

There was no stopping it - your footsteps faltered and your head turned to the side, lips parted in surprise. But the bigger surprise was the material moving to the side and the man himself peeking around the edge of it, his eyes locked with yours. He was shirtless, pants hanging low on his narrow hips, and you watched as the fire crept into his eyes at your startled expression, the man’s lips curving up into an almost dangerous smile. 

You managed to answer - telling him that you’d enjoyed yourselves thoroughly, and Oberyn’s smile grew. His eyes remained on you even at the sound of a woman calling his name from behind him, and you couldn’t resist giving him a little sass in response, your head slightly fuzzy from the drinks you’d consumed. “But not as thoroughly as you seem to be enjoying yourself right now, Mr. Martell.” 

He’d paused - only briefly - before reaching down to press his hand flat against his belly, eyes narrowing almost in challenge. “We will have to do something about that next time. Come back soon. Anything you desire within these walls  is yours.” And then he was gone, the curtain swishing back into place and obscuring him from view.

You’d stayed away for a month, and then curiosity got the better of you. 

You and a friend decided to head back to the Viper’s Den for a drink on a Thursday, fully prepared to wait in the admission line … but instead, you’d been ushered inside as soon as the bouncer saw you, two seats in a prime location at the bar offered before you realized what was going on. 

It took him less than an hour to step up behind you, the man welcoming you back and then offering to accompany you into the private lounge - though it wasn’t his lounge area, and there were no curtains to close. The three of you talked until it got late, Oberyn offering a car to take her home while he escorted you personally - and you agreed, the word yes dripping from your lips before you could stop yourself. 

He didn’t try anything in the car, though the two of you sat close together in the back seat, the man’s fingers laced with yours and his thumb running slowly over your knuckle. He was different there, the short drive and complete privacy allowing him to turn off the swagger and persona he adopted in public … and that was the Oberyn Martell you fell for. 

Over the course of the next few weeks, you got to know him in the club and out, trading contact information and building up a friendship. He flirted - heavily, the man’s charm a constant presence, but he never pushed you or used his position to encourage more than you were ready to give. 

And when you finally went to bed with him, it felt like an extension of the friendship, a natural progression of things between you that changed nothing about the way you behaved with each other … and everything about the way you felt about him in one fell swoop. 

That continued for a year, and in that time, both of you dated other people, though you always gravitated back into each other’s arms and beds, the familiarity and comfort of being with him a welcome reward for a hard day or a successful week at work. Every touch of the man’s hands or press of his mouth against your skin confirmed what you already knew to be true about your feelings for him.  You wanted more but knew that you could never ask for it without disappointment. So you didn’t, even though it got harder and harder with each passing day. 

But that night was the first time he’d outright forgotten you - leaving you hanging at the bar he’d invited you to, surrounded by people oblivious to the hurt that was clawing at the inside of your chest. Your phone vibrated, the screen lighting up, and for a split second, you thought it was him, messaging to let you know that he was on his way. 

It wasn’t. 

The hurt turned to anger at the image attached to the alert. It was a tagged photo taken through the glass of a restaurant window and posted on social media, Oberyn’s arm around the shoulders of a dark haired beauty that you didn’t recognize, his head turned so that he could speak into her ear. That’s it. I’m done. 

Darkening the screen, you shoved your phone into your purse, digging for your wallet and pulling out a few bills to leave as a tip for the bartender. You finished your drink and stood, slinging the strap over your shoulder and weaving through the crowd on your way to the door. 

It wasn’t that he was with another woman, even though that stung, too. 

You knew that there were others - even others like Ellaria that he saw just as frequently as he saw you. You knew that he wasn’t really yours, and that you had no right to dictate who he spent time with or what kind of time they spent together. He said he’d be here. He invited me here tonight, and then he just … 

Oberyn was many things - and being a man of his word was near the top of that list. And that’s why this is … You wiped a tear away from beneath your eye with one hand as you prepared to hail a cab, but when you saw the car that he always had on standby parked near the curb, you headed there instead. Might as well take it one last time. 

The drive to your place was a short one because the traffic was light, but even the limited time wasn’t enough to keep you from pulling your phone out and staring at the image, lower lip caught between your teeth. It was the first time he’d disappointed you in the entire time you’d known him, and it hurt. 

I thought we were friends. The car pulled to a stop and then idled, the driver telling you to have a good night as you climbed out. You stood on the sidewalk, watching it pull away and merge back into traffic, and as the taillights disappeared, you let out a long sigh, squeezing your eyes shut. 

“This is not how I pictured tonight going.” You winced at the sound of his voice, shoulders stiffening. “Doreah told me you left, and I figured … I figured this was the only place you would go.” You heard his quiet footsteps as Oberyn approached, the man stopping before he got close enough to touch you. “Why did you leave? I thought we -”

“You were an hour and a half late, Oberyn.” Turning to look at him, you shrugged. “You didn’t answer my text - you didn’t even read it. And then I saw a picture of you at dinner, and I just …” Tilting your head back, you curled your fingers against your palms. “You can spend time with whoever you want to, and it’s fine, but…” 

Bringing your chin back down, you met his gaze for the first time that night, unsure of what you’d find there. The look in his eyes surprised you. He watched you silently, head tilted to one side and a line between his brows, but his expression was even. He’s just waiting. Waiting to see what I say, how I handle  this. “But what?” He stepped closer, shaking his head. “Finish that sentence. Please.” 

“But I think I deserve to be told when you’re not going to show up somewhere, Oberyn. I don’t expect all of your time, but if you make plans with someone, I think the least you could do is let them know if you’re not going to keep them.” 

Under the glow of the streetlight, Oberyn stood completely still, his expression unchanged. You’d more than likely crossed a line, but that didn’t mean that the words were any less true. “I have always said that you should tell me how you feel.” 

“Sure have.” Rolling your eyes, you forced yourself to keep your arms by your sides instead of crossing them protectively over your chest like you wanted to. “So I hope it was a -”

“You saw a picture of me?” Blinking, he took another step closer, eyes narrowing. “At dinner?” He hummed, pushing his shoulders back. “What was I doing in the picture?” With a scoff, you reached into your bag for your phone, bringing the picture up and showing it to him. “Oh.” Oberyn hummed, a brief smile twisting the corners of his mouth upward. “I’m here now, and you should know very well that that means I did not go to bed with her.”

You laughed then, the sound sharp, and when you stuffed the phone back into your purse, you reached up, holding your hand out in front of him, palm forward. “Oberyn that isn’t the point. You’ve slept with how many people since we’ve known each other? I’m pissed that you asked me to meet you and then you didn’t even have the courtesy to send a message that said ‘Hey I’m sorry, I’m going to be late. Having dinner with someone’ or ‘I’m sorry, something came up. I’ve gotta cancel’.” Lowering your hand, you placed it on your hip. “You knew what time we were supposed to meet.You reminded me earlier today. It would have taken fifteen seconds to let me know you wouldn’t be there. That’s all.” 

“Would you still have wanted to meet me tonight if I had slept with Talisa?” He wet his lips and then pressed them together. “Knowing that -”

“Probably not.” You were already being honest with him, and didn’t think there was any point in lying. “I definitely wouldn’t have wanted to have sex only a few hours after you’d been with someone else, but …” You shrugged. “But that just proves my point. You should have told me, Oberyn. We’re friends, and -” 

“I would not have done that.” He shook his head. “To you of all people.” He smoothed down the front of his shirt, your eyes following the movement and unconsciously lingering on the exposed skin of his upper chest. Oberyn went silent and your mind wandered, breath leaving you in a quiet huff as you thought about how unfair it was that he had the nerve to look so good when you were so mad at him. Nobody looks good in mustard yellow. Nobody, but he - “And there is no probably, you would have told me that you didn’t want to see me tonight if you knew that I was with someone else earlier in the evening.” 

He knew it was true because he knew you, and that made it even worse. “And yet here you are.” You spit the words out, more venom in them than you anticipated, but still less than he deserved. “Maybe you should have slept with her, Oberyn. Because you’re definitely not getting there with me tonight. Not after this. Not -”

“I do not blame you.” Shaking his head, Oberyn crossed his arms first, taking a deep breath. “For being angry with me. I deserve it. I understand that I should have… but it came up last minute. Elia’s friends were in town, and what you did not see in that picture was that she was sitting across from me. She and her husband were there, and the woman?” He smiled then, the expression genuine. “Talisa? Her husband was also there. But he stepped away from the table to take a phone call. That picture was taken at an…” He frowned, thinking. “An inopportune moment.” 

“That doesn’t make it any better, Oberyn.” But the truth of it was that it did make it better, even if only a little. You believed that he wouldn’t have come to you after being with someone else. You believed that Elia and her husband had been there, and that despite his interest in sex and his lack of boundaries when it came to sex, Oberyn never would have done anything to break up the relationship of his sister’s friends. But he still stood me up. And that’s bullshit. 

“In all the time I’ve known you, I have never known you to be jealous.” I’m not. I’m not jealous. He sighed, swallowing. “You know me and what I enjoy. You know my history. You know how I spend my time, and you have never … judged me for it.” He reached up, scratching the side of his head and then said your name, letting a slow breath out through his nose. “I have seen disappointment in your eyes before. I have heard it sometimes, in your voice when we’re talking about the things that have happened since we last saw each other.” 

Cautiously, he reached for you - the man’s fingertips sliding down the bare skin of your arm. “Oberyn, stop. I’m not -” Am I?  

“But you have never shown true jealousy.” You weren’t proud of the assessment, because it was true. You knew what you’d gotten into when you started seeing him, had known Oberyn’s routine and his behaviors, and had accepted it because you wanted to be near him. “You’ve seen me with Ellaria. You’ve met her. I have not kept what I do and who I do it with a secret, and yet…” He eyed you, taking another breath “And yet it is this that puts you over the edge.”

“Yes, because you ditched me, Oberyn. I’m not jealous, I’m pissed. I don’t like being ignored or stood up. My time is worth more than that. Having a casual relationship is fine, but we’re still friends. And the fact that you beat me here proves that you know that what happened tonight was not cool. I would have been disappointed if you’d canceled or told me you’d be late, but I would have understood, because it’s not a regular occurrence. It happens.” You took a half step away from him, head whipping back and forth. “But this? This fucking hurts, Oberyn. Because -” 

“I think I like you jealous.” The smile was back on his face, his eyes gleaming in the dim lighting. “I like it a lot, actually. Because it proves that I -  

“Oh, fuck you, Oberyn.” You spun away from him, digging for your keys. “I need some time. Leave me alone for a few days. Let me be mad at you, and then …” You closed your fingers around the bundle in your purse, scoffing. “Then we’ll see if -” 

You stopped speaking at the feeling of his fingers closing around your arm, just above your elbow. He squeezed gently, the man’s presence behind you growing as he moved even closer. “Wait. Turn around and look at me.” You didn’t want to. You wanted to keep going, to unlock your door and go inside, slamming it in his face. 

But you didn’t, instead turning and facing him, the man’s grip loosening, though he didn’t pull his hand away. He watched you intently, his expression unreadable, but when you relaxed - only slightly - he nodded, closing his eyes. What is going on with him? 

When Oberyn’s eyes opened again, they’d softened, the look in them similar to the one he gave you sometimes when he didn’t think you were paying attention. He wasn’t Oberyn Martell, multi-millionaire heir to the Dornish empire or owner of The Viper’s Den. He wasn’t the Red Viper, a man that moved in carefully and struck quickly, taking what he wanted and not thinking twice until it was done. He was just Oberyn then - the bravado gone and the facade dropped, a man looking at a woman that he cared about, unguarded. 

“I am sorry.” Opening your mouth to interrupt, he stopped you, the slight tightening of his fingers halting the words in the back of your throat. “I’m so sorry for not letting you know I couldn’t meet you. I’m sorry for not keeping my word.” He paused again, blinking slowly. “I’m sorry that I hurt you.” 

In the year that you’d known him, you’d never heard the man apologize - except once to Elia for making a joke that she’d taken poorly. 

You hadn’t been meant to hear that, the words whispered into her ear as he pulled her away from the group of people they were speaking to, his mouth forming words smoothly and paired with a squeeze of her wrist. Not to Ellaria. Not to Doran. Not to any of the employees or the people I’ve seen him turn down. To Elia and to … me. 

“Oberyn, I …” Closing your eyes, you took a shuddering breath. “You…” It should have taken more than that - more than a simple apology that didn’t at all make up for what he’d done. But it was the shock of hearing those words from him for the first time, seeing his expression as he spoke them and watching the way his body moved - curling toward you, the hand not on your arm twitching like he was warring against himself not to reach out and touch you. 

With other men, apologies were meaningless, just words spoken to placate someone until the next time they needed to be used. But with him, just like with everything else he said, you knew that he wouldn’t have wasted the breath to apologize if he didn’t mean it. Oberyn’s words always held meaning, no matter how insignificant they seemed. And I’m not going to waste this. I’m not going to waste what might be the only time he ever … 

“I know you are.” Reaching up, you pressed your palm to his cheek, watching as the tilt of his head changed subtly, pressing toward your skin. “And you’re right. I think…” Dropping your chin and shaking your head, you shuddered. “I was jealous tonight. Jealous that someone else got to spend time with you when it was supposed to be me.” 

It came out in a rush, but once you’d said it, you felt lighter, the truth hanging between you. He’d seen through you because he saw everything, and even though you knew that having any sort of possessive thoughts about Oberyn’s time was not a good idea, keeping it to yourself that night hadn’t ever really been an option, especially after he’d been so open. Just like not going back to the bar and to him after the first night wasn’t. 

“Well I’m here now.” He inched closer, his other hand finally rising to settle against your hip, thumb stroking in a slow arc over it. “And I would really like to … stay.” Logically, you knew that he meant that the wanted to stay the night - that he wanted to salvage whatever you could from the broken date. But there’s always more to what he says than… 

You didn’t even think about it before you leaned in, tipping your head to the side and pressing your mouth to his. He let you, fingertips digging into your skin, and when you moved your hand back so that you could tangle your fingers in his hair, Oberyn finally sighed. 

It was you that started things - and then took advantage of his sigh and the slight part of his lips, deepening the kiss at the same time you urged him closer. 

But it was Oberyn that took over - as he so often did - the hand on your hip dragging you forward to leave no space between your bodies, the hand on your elbow slipping free and then between your arm and your side, snaking up the center of your back to keep you close.

He kissed you hungrily - like the admissions of remorse and jealousy had unlocked something new in him. And maybe they did, because … You pulled on his hair, groaning as he licked into your mouth, but then Oberyn pushed you away abruptly, the man’s lips set into a smirk that you knew well. “What are -”

“I would not mind it, but I don’t think you want this to keep going here.” Using the hand from your hip, he gestured to the space around you. “Especially when I know how comfortable so many places in your house are.” 

You laughed at, the remaining tension breaking, but instead of pulling completely out of his arms, you leaned back in, kissing Oberyn’s cheek. For you, Oberyn Martell, I am a pushover. “If we go inside, I’m going to need you to show me just how sorry you are.” 

He hummed and you could hear the smile in it, his nod turning into a gentle tug on your hand as you headed up the driveway. “There are plenty of hours left before the sun comes up.” He looked over at you, the smirk still present on his lips. “And I have nowhere else to be tomorrow, do you?” 

Your stomach bottomed out at his words - the man’s voice low and full of promise. But even then, you could hear the undertone of sincerity in it - and despite the earlier anger, you were already more than halfway to forgiving him. I’ll be all the way there in a little while. What does that say about me? 

“Absolutely nowhere, Oberyn.” 

— 

[lincolndjarin]

my way.

pairing : oberyn martell x f!reader

summary : being the prince of dorne can often be a rather stressful job, it's hard to give, and give, and give. sometimes you just need to be on the receiving end for a little while.

warnings, tags, etc : five seconds of plot to build up to a whole lot of porn, pegging (obvi), medieval strap on, glass toys, fingering, oberyn sucks the strap, allusions to other partners, referring to a dildo as a cock, multiple orgasms, overstimulation if you squint, premature ejaculation?? idk he cums fast bc i'm a sucker for that, cum play, reader has brief penis envy idk if that's the term but yeah, spit as lube bc its the olden days or whatever, anal sex, soft & loving sex, sort of a gentle dom vibe from reader, they're married <3 <3 <3, aftercare, i didn't really edit this as much as i should have (i'm sleepy) so apologies in advance

a/n : hello lovelies !!!! i am back from my little break with a little middle aged man pegging!! check out @wannab-urs who put together this entire project for a full masterlist of everyones works soon <3 apologies if i'm a little rusty i'm still getting back into my writing groove :3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Everything always has to be his way. 

If you didn’t love him so much it would probably irritate you more. And when it does bother you he always does his best to fix it but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating. Your sweet prince has always done right by you but he’s never done it your way, and when things don’t go exactly as he wants them to he becomes a real pain. 

You know it isn’t entirely his fault of course. The combination of never being told no and having to make decisions that affect the people of Dorne in real time, often leaves him stressed beyond comprehension. 

Today it seems to be particularly bad as he paces around your shared chambers. You had spent your day reading and baking bread, everything had been perfectly fine until he burst through the door, rambling about a funding dispute he’s been having with his brother for weeks now. You can tell by the glint in his eye that things clearly aren’t going his way, before you get a chance to comfort him he snaps at you. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” It’s a small critique, you have been staring at him waiting for this sort of thing, so you take control of the situation rather quickly. 

“Let me give you a chance to apologize before this becomes a fight.” You cross your arms in front of your chest. He immediately picks up on the annoyance in your voice as his features soften from anger to shame. 

“I’m sorry.” He really means it as he bows his head a bit. “It’s just- It’s been a difficult day.” He makes his way over to you, taking one of your hands, kissing your knuckles. “I’m sorry, my stars.”

“I know, my moon, it’s okay.” You move the hand he holds to his lips, cradling his face briefly as he smiles, to your dismay it doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s still tense. 

“I think I’d go mad if I didn’t get to come home to you each day.” You don’t doubt that. 

“Why don’t you let me help you out a little?” You wrap your arms around him, letting your fingers tangle in the hair at the base of his neck. “Let me take care of you.” You barely speak above a whisper now as his body starts to relax in response to your touch. He walks you towards the bed until the backs of your knees hit the mattress, just as expected he immediately takes control of the situation, barely letting you get another word in as his hands slide down your waist like they’ve done countless times before except this time you catch his wrists before he can get that far. “Can you lay down for me?” The moment you ask the question he raises an eyebrow before complying, moving to sit with his back against the headboard as you go to your nightstand. 

You’ve used the toy a few times before with your other partners but as far as you know Oberyn’s never even seen it. You haven’t made any effort to hide it from him but he’s always so quick to act when it’s just the two of you, he never gives you much of a chance to do anything but take what he gives. No wonder he’s so stressed, he’s never taken a moment to just receive. 

The moment you crawl up the bed to him he’s already back on you. All teeth and hands as he pulls you against him, you have to force yourself to pull away from him though it pains you greatly. 

“Not yet- I want to try something new.” You don’t give him a chance to question as you reach across him to your nightstand. You just had a new toy made, hand blown glass, for this sort of occasion, as you toss it down next to him his eyes squint in confusion before going wide. 

“Where did you get that, my love?” His words drawl a bit, his Dornish accent hangs heavy in the air as you lift your dress over your head, tossing it aside, sitting before him completely bare as you slip into the leather straps, cinching the buckles carefully before taking the toy and holding it in one hand languidly. 

“A glass smith nearby has been more than willing to experiment with his craft for me. Is this something you’re interested in trying?” You can already tell what his answer is going to be based on his expression but you still want to hear him say it. 

“Of course, I’d try anything for you.” He purrs softly as you push him back into the pillows. You lay him back, an action he’s done to you countless times before, tugging at the cords of his robe. Between the two of you, eager to get him undressed, it only takes a moment before the fabric hits the floor. Once he’s as bare as you are you’re able to see just how much the idea thrills him as his red tipped cock slaps against his stomach. 

“Do you think you can relinquish control for just a little while, my prince?” You rake your nails against his chest lightly as he nods. “Good. I don’t want you to worry about a thing, put all your focus on taking what I give you, do you understand?” You stop your hands movement downwards right as you reach the patch of hair on his lower stomach. 

“Absolutely.” He flashes you a toothy grin and you can’t help but respond with one of your own. 

“You will do as I say then. And if I ask something of you that you do not like then you will say stop, is that clear?” You want so badly to take his cock into your hands or mouth but you’re trying to be patient as you pull your hand back. This is for his sake, not yours. 

“Perfectly clear.” His hips twitch upwards a bit, almost taunting your resolve as you press him back down into the mattress. 

“Lovely,” You hum, stroking the glass toy between your fingers before bringing it to his mouth, tapping his lips. “Open.” He complies quickly, parting his lips as you slide the tip of the toy in, reveling in his moans. He looks so… right, like this. Eyes wide and eager as his tongue laps at the cool glass, tracing the ridges, legs spread, and cock twitching in excitement. You can’t help but wonder why you didn’t do this sooner. 

You push the fake cock just a little further past his lips before letting him take hold of it, turning to other matters. 

“Warm that up please, you wouldn’t want it to be cold when I fill you up.” As you murmur those words he groans against the glass. 

Unceremoniously you spit into your hand, giddy with excitement as you nudge his legs a bit further apart. You spread the plush flesh of his ass to notch your digits at his hole, gently pushing just the tip of your pointer finger in, feeling him tighten around you with a gasp. 

“Relax, my love.” You coo, waiting until his muscles release a bit before pushing onward. This isn’t your first time doing this sort of thing of course but it is the first time he’s going to be taking something other than your fingers or tongue, so you work him open slowly. Watching the stress unravel from his body as you work in a second finger, curling and scissoring them as his back arches, cock bobbing against his stomach as his fingers grip the sheets around him. 

When he’s able to take three of your fingers you pull the toy from his mouth with a soft pop, the toy slick with spit and properly warmed easily slips into the designated slot on your harness. He watches with a palpable anticipation as you get yourself situated. When you’re ready you’re kneeling between his legs, glass cock standing proudly against your pelvis. 

“Ready?” You ask as you gently lift his legs, bringing his knees to his chest as he nods, damn near whimpering. 

You push into him, slowly, as you gauge his reaction. Usually he’s all grunts and grumbles during sex but now he’s gasps and whines. His hands clutch the pillows surrounding his head as he tries to push himself further onto the toy but the position you’ve got him in keeps him in place. 

“You want more?” There’s a mocking lilt to your voice as he nods rapidly.

“Yes- please.” He purses his lips as he whimpers and you’re more than happy to oblige, watching the sight before you as his hole swallows your cock, his own dick leaking against his stomach, begging for a release. You adjust your hips a bit, watching his back attempt to arch as you do so. “Th-there.” His voice is strained as you hit that sweet spot inside of him. Ever so gently you pull out before rocking yourself back against it. 

“There? Is that what you want?” You continue to speak in a teasing tone but you truly want to know, this is all for his sake, you want so badly to make him feel good. His cheeks are flushed, warm skin slick with sweat as he continues to nod. You repeat the motion a few more times, caught off guard when he lets out a low whine and you watch as his cock pulses, untouched, as he paints his torso. His breath catches in his throat as he does so. “Oh my, look at the mess you’ve made, and so quickly.” You drag a finger over his heaving chest, scooping up some of his spend to taste, letting the bitter sweetness coat your tongue. “You were more pent up than I thought, my love. I think you still have some stress that needs releasing.” 

“I-I’m sorry.” He stammers, looking a bit embarrassed but you immediately shake your head, leaning forward to kiss his forehead while simultaneously sinking back into him.

“Don’t apologize for feeling good, sunshine. That’s what this is all for.” You bump your nose against his, hoping to reassure him. “Do you think you could give me one more, I just want to make sure I get all the stress out.” You emphasize your words with a small push of his legs tighter against his chest, earning a soft mewl from him. 

“I can do one more.” 

“Wonderful.” You kiss his cheek before picking up the same pace you were at just moments ago. Happily watching his cock jump back to life. You take the opportunity to drag your fingers through the cum cooling on his abdomen, drawing little shapes as he begins to reach that same peak rapidly all over again. You adore the sight of your glass cock sliding in and out of him. He takes you so well, his hole fluttering as he lets you fuck him. You wish you had a real cock just so you could feel him tighten around you but this will have to do. His neglected dick continues to rest against his happy trail, desperate to be touched. This time you help him out, wrapping your hand around his cock, with a few quick pumps he’s coating his stomach in cum all over again.

It’s positively euphoric to see the prince of Dorne like this. 

Just for you. Spread before you without a care in the world, stuffed full of your cock and happy as can be.

You give him a moment to catch his breath before pulling out, peppering his cheeks with kisses before slipping out of the harness and leaving to get him some water as well as something to wipe him up with. 

You gently wipe him down with a warm washcloth, cleaning him while continuing to kiss his face as he yawns. 

“Thank you.” He mumbles, taking your face in his hands, pulling you forward for another kiss. 

“Anytime, we take care of each other, I’m just glad you’re feeling better.” You climb under the blankets with him, tangling your limbs with his as he rests his face in the crook of your neck, clearly exhausted as he falls asleep against you. You feel your own exhaustion hit, smiling to yourself as you close your eyes. You couldn’t be happier that he let you try things your way.

[redahlia-writes]

sweet one. | oberyn martell x reader x ellaria sand

sequel to little prince

Abstract:  “What I mean to say is you’ve learned, as have I - I don’t care what they say about me,” her fingers wrapped gently around your throat, giving it just a single squeeze that made your lips part with a sigh. “Besides, you were mine before you were his, sweet one.”

Words: 6.2k

Content: this is straight up smut, pwp, threesome (f/f/m with an initial focus on the sapphic relationship), oral (f receiving), fingering, piv, slightly sub/dom dynamic (sub!oberyn), oberyn being oberyn, pet names, mentions of bruises/lovebites, cursing, reader is described as having long hair, unedited

A/N: after months of talking about this we did it lads. thank you to all those who waited patiently (and i’m sorry). i wrote this over the course of multiple months (and it is the first time i write a threesome) so there might be a little inconstancy but also it's literally all smut. cheers

reblogs and feedback are always greatly appreciated. you can send it here, too

also on AO3  - masterlist

“I truly cannot begin to express how much I admire your patience, my lady.”

How you wished you’d had the presence of mind to run the moment those words left the woman’s lips. What good could possibly come out of such a sentence? And uttered in such a manner, her chin raised and neck flushed, the look of superiority you had despised seeing and that Dorne had allowed you to be away from. Still, every now and then, social gatherings would happen, and some part of your upbringing still deeply embedded in you made it so that you’d attend them against your better judgement.

“Of course, I’d imagine the prince is worth it,” she went on, clearly not put off by your silence. “He looks rather smitten, everybody says so - yet he keeps that Sand around. When he could have a way better match. A proper one. Couldn’t he?” she batted her eyelashes, leaning towards you a little with a mock polite smile. “I mean, you two seem to have such a good relationship. The way you two look at each other,” she made a soft squeaking noise that made you flinch.

It was true - you hadn’t been subtle, not after the first encounter in your rooms. And the second in his. And the quick rendezvous in the library, the gardens, the stairs - a please whispered through your hair and Oberyn’s hands were gripping your thighs, your back against a wall, warm and desperate kisses as you clung to each other. And then there was Ellaria, the flash of a grin, a teasing brush to the Red Viper’s marks, lips caressing your skin as she asked and asked and asked.

“Yet he keeps her with him. Is it for the daughters? I don’t -” she cut herself off as Ellaria walked up to you, a smile bending her soft lips. The woman scoffed with indignation and turned up her nose as she saw the dark-haired woman sit on your lap, your arms wrapping around her with a relieved sigh, her mere presence soothing.

“Hello, sweet one,” Ellaria murmured and leaned in - her kiss was gentle, almost chaste, a brush of lips that was nothing like the ones you’d exchanged when it was just the two of you. Just a show for the woman at your side, whose eyes seemed to be about to pop out of her skull when Ellaria glanced at her, leaning furthermore into you.

“Hi,” you whispered, kissing her shoulder in return before resting your cheek against her warm skin, turning your head to look at the woman again. “Apologies, my lady, I must’ve gotten distracted - what is it you were saying?” you wondered, feigning curiosity.

She got up with another scoff, face burning bright as she strode off - you couldn’t help your laughter as Ellaria waved in her direction, tucking herself closer to you, your eyes fluttering close at the comfort of her weight on you.

“It seemed like you were in dire need of rescuing,” she chuckled, hand brushing over your hair with slow, soothing movements. “And my ears were ringing. Of course I had to intervene.”

“Of course,” you retorted, looking up at her, slowly caressing her side from above her warm golden dress, fabric rustling underneath your palms, gaze lowered. The hand she was not brushing your hair with moved underneath your chin, a gentle tap to make your head tip back so that you were meeting her eyes.

“What is it?” she wondered softly, thumb ghosting your bottom lip. You exhaled, a small pout taking over your face - you couldn’t even care anymore that you were in public, that there was a court of strangers most likely looking at the two of you. It was the latest gossip after all, wasn’t it? The women of the prince. His paramour and the lover that had captured his attention, kept him wrapped around his finger.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” you asked softly, thumb still rubbing her side. “That everyone seems to be talking about this? That they would favour me over you? It makes me go mad,” you huffed, and Ellaria’s smile melted with softness. She cupped your cheek, shaking her head.

“I don’t care what they think,” she leaned in a little, the tip of her nose brushing yours. “I know Oberyn, I know you, I know my heart,” with a little smile, you dropped your head forward, her lips now bent in a smile resting against your forehead as she lowered her voice. “And I like it when you try to make it up to me.”

You laughed then, her grin mischievous against your skin as she pressed herself into your lap, hand fisting around the locks twisted at the nape of your neck. It felt ironic, how much being with Oberyn had actually freed you, how you’d allowed yourself to want - and it was always them. Only them. You couldn’t help wondering how the voices might change, should they know how deep the affection the three of you had for each other ran. How it wasn’t Oberyn in the middle of it all. How you couldn’t have one if it meant not having the other - how they couldn’t have each other if it meant not having you.

So when you looked up and saw Oberyn on the other side of the room, his eyes glued on the pair of you, your body burned ablaze as the picture formed itself in your mind - three of you. Together at last. He had his head cocked to the side, sitting back on his chair with his legs spread, tracing the rim of his cup with the tip of his finger - somebody was talking to him, and he seemed to be replying, but his gaze had been locked on you for a while now.

“Do you?” you asked then, hand slowly coming up around Ellaria’s side, tip of your fingers brushing the underside of her chest. She sighed, shifting on you a little. “Because I don’t think I want to be here any longer,” you murmured, tilting your head to drop a kiss to her shoulder again, nosing at the curve of her neck. “I believe I’d much rather go lie down.”

Ellaria wasted no time in standing up, her hands quickly reaching for your hands to pull you to your feet, a wide smile grazing her lips as she began pulling you towards the exit door, mindless of the eyes turning to follow you. It was easier to forget about everyone else when she held your hands - it was easier to feel free when you could stop thinking about what was once expected of you. When the only gaze you could feel burning on your skin was Oberyn’s.

Her lips found yours while you still walked the corridors, hungry and feverish, hands wandering between the folds of your dress as you stumbled one after the other, unable to keep yourselves from laughing against each other’s mouths. Your room was the closest, and before you managed to open the door you pressed her against the wood, parting from her lips to kiss down her jaw and neck, tongue darting out to taste her skin with a soft hum.

She sighed and stepped inside, dragging you with her, one hand gathering your skirt up as you all but kicked the door closed. It was easy, falling into rhythm with Ellaria - she knew exactly how to touch you, how to ask where and when to be touched in return. Your name fell like a praise from her lips as you dragged her dress down her shoulders, chest, stomach, letting it fall from her hips after a moment of pulling at it gently.

“Sweet one,” Ellaria called as soon as the dress pooled around her ankles, two of her fingers coming to rest underneath your chin to stop you from kissing a path down her sternum. Your gaze flickered down her uncovered body, your own skin flushed and breath short, then looked up towards her. “They’re always going to talk. It’s inevitable.”

“I don’t like them talking about you,” you retorted, hands finding purchase on her hips. Ellaria grinned at your words, slowly moving back towards the bed and pulling you with her.

“I remember you were so worried when you first came here - about what people might think or say about you. How you kept yourself hidden from us,” she murmured, her fingertips drawing small circles across the exposed skin of your neck. “How tense you were when you slept next to me for the first time.”

“Ellaria,” you warned softly, rubbing the soft flesh at her sides. Her grin just widened.

“What I mean to say is you’ve learned, as have I - I don’t care what they say about me,” her fingers wrapped gently around your throat, giving it just a single squeeze that made your lips part with a sigh. “Besides, you were mine before you were his, sweet one.”

She pulled you to her then, her grip on your jaw harsher until the moment your lips met - then it melted into a soft caress, fingertips dragging down your neck, your collarbones, the neckline of your dress, pulling it down ever so slowly as the kiss deepened, her tongue brushing the roof of your mouth as you swallowed each sigh, each hum.

“I believed this was about me making it up to you,” you whispered, warm breaths hitting her face when you parted panting, her hand just grazing the top of your breasts. Wide eyes shimmering with amusement, Ellaria nodded, licking her lips as you forced her to take the last step back before the back of her knees hit the bed. “Lie down, then.”

She sat on the bed, head tipped back to keep looking at you as her hands slid down your front, the fabric of your own dress singing and rustling under her palms before she moved back along the mattress, never breaking eye contact as she leaned back - first on her elbows, head tilted so that her hair would fall down one shoulder, then on her back once you kneeled by her ankles, dragging your fingertips up her calves, knees, thighs.

Ellaria’s skin was soft and warm, terribly inviting as her legs parted to accommodate you as you leaned forward, supporting yourself with one hand by her side, letting your gaze wander along your free hand down across her body - responsive to your touch as ever, she arched into you, biting down on her bottom lip with a half-smile.

“What do you want?” you asked, husky-voiced.

“Your mouth,” she half whispered, half pleaded.

It was nearly impossible to resist her.

Ellaria was never shy, never coy, her legs slowly parting for you as you sunk lower on the mattress, one last kiss to her lips before peppering her skin in the wake of your touch - neck, collarbones, sternum, nipping the soft flesh of one breast and then the other to make her chuckle, before moving further down, across her stomach and navel. She arched her back as you kissed her mound, knees falling at each side of you.

“Do you enjoy what you’re seeing, little prince?” you turned your head to kiss Ellaria’s thigh, meeting Oberyn’s gaze on the other side of the room, his hand still gripping the door’s handle. His eyes had been burning your skin for minutes now, his breath catching as you addressed him.

“I see the two of you having fun without me,” he retorted, voice low and husky. “But don’t stop on my account,” he added then, striding forward, his steps slow and calculated.

“I wasn’t planning to,” you said, hands slipping underneath Ellaria’s thighs, gently pulling her towards you. She sighed when you kissed her core, smile tugging at her lips as her eyes fluttered shut.

“I believe he’s been enjoying it for a while now,” Ellaria hummed, her hand reaching down for you - she brushed her fingers through your hair, pushing back some strands that had come loose from the braided bun at the nape of your neck. “Has been watching you all night long, sweet one,” her voice broke into a soft moan at the drag of your tongue through her folds.

Oberyn, standing at the side of the bed, leaned in to kiss Ellaria, capturing the noise from her lips as you repeated the motion, slower, coating your tongue in her. When the prince pulled back, she threw her head back with a keening gasp, hand tightening around your hair. At the same time, Oberyn’s hand caressed down her body as he sat on the edge of the bed, tilting his head and letting his gaze wander downwards, too, until it met your eyes. When he reached for your face, you wrapped one hand around his wrist, parting from Ellaria’s core much to her dismay.

“If you enjoyed it so much then just watch,” you murmured, his thumb skimming across your bottom lip. “What do you think? Can you keep your hands to yourself, little prince?” you tilted your head a little, cheek pressed to Ellaria’s thigh, eyelashes fluttering in mock innocence. A low rumble stuck in Oberyn’s throat as he pulled your lip down a little, pupils dilating as his jaw tightened - it brought a smirk to your mouth, grip tightening around his wrist to pry his touch away from both you and the other woman.

“Minx,” he replied, causing Ellaria to laugh loudly, the hand she’d held over your hair coming down to caress your cheek instead, gaze flickering between you and the prince.

I’d like it more if someone taught him some manners. It’s something I’d really like to see.

With one last coy smile, you lowered your mouth to Ellaria’s centre again, all too aware of his eyes on you as he rested back against the pillows, robe hanging open over his chest, thigh close to Ellaria’s head but not touching her.

The woman sighed and grinded against your mouth, hand coming back down to your hair to guide your movements as your tongue prodded at her entrance, slick gathering into your mouth - it made you hum in appreciation, unable to help yourself as your eyes fluttered shut for a moment at the taste of her. The vibration made her moan, and at her side Oberyn shifted, covers rustling underneath him.

His gaze burned you as you dragged your tongue upwards, flicking her clit before wrapping your lips around it - Ellaria’s nails scraped your scalp gently, her thighs trembling at the sides of your head as her back arched slightly. When you started pushing one finger inside of her, she moaned again, turning her head to the side - in doing so, her forehead rested against Oberyn’s thigh, his hands twitching at his sides.

“Like that,” she encouraged, rocking her hips into you as you began pumping your finger into her, and then slowly added a second one. “Just like that, my love. Just -” she cried out when you crooked your fingers, her walls fluttering with your name falling from her lips, over and over again as you rolled the tip of your tongue over her clit.

Ellaria lost herself in her pleasure fully, turning blind and deaf to all else around her - at her side, Oberyn’s chest began to heave, his hand sliding down to palm himself from above his clothes, groans trapped at the back of his throat. His hands itched to reach for either of you, his gaze unwavering: the Red Viper, once again looking like an apex predator.

As she came, she tugged gently on your hair to pull you away wordlessly, a gasp escaping your own lips as you exhaled, her walls still clenching around your fingers as she rocked into her orgasm, shaky thighs pressed over your shoulders almost pinning you fully down. She whined at the loss of your hand, grip faltering on you as you shifted forward a little, her legs falling at each side of you.

“Oberyn,” your voice was hoarse, snapping him out of it as you beckoned him forward. He kept his mouth shut as he leaned over, thighs spread and trousers straining at his hardened length - when you lifted your fingers to his mouth in offering, his shoulders sagged with a sigh, lips parting and tongue darting out.

His eyes fluttered shut as he wrapped his lips around your fingers, a low groan coming from his throat as he shifted further forward, one hand wrapping around your wrist. He lapped at your fingers eagerly, cheeks hollowing as his free hand brushed up Ellaria’s thigh and then up your shoulder, neck, brushing your jaw before tangling in your hair.

Ellaria moved her legs aside and freed you fully, pushing herself in a seated position and leaning in to kiss Oberyn’s shoulder, his neck, his jaw as it twitched with you fingers still trapped between his lips - at the same time, she brought one hand up to you, warm fingers caressing the heated skin of your arms, slowly hooking underneath the strap of your dress.

You tapped your thumb to the corner of Oberyn’s mouth and his lips parted again, releasing you with a heavy sigh - when he looked back at you, and Ellaria getting closer, his eyes were dark, pupils blown with lust and desire as he fisted his hand into your messed-up braid. Ellaria watched him, his gaze flickering from your face to hers to where her hand was, the sleeve of your shirt dragged down slowly, inch by uncovered inch of skin. She leaned in then, her lips brushing your now bare shoulder, the curve of your neck, up and up and -

“I want to watch,” she whispered, voice thick as honey and just as sweet, teeth grazing the ends of your earring before she kissed the juncture where your jaw met your ear. “Let me see him make you feel good, sweet one.”

Oberyn was uncharacteristically quiet, but at Ellaria’s words his fingers pushed lightly at the nape of your neck, breath itching. Your lips parted - not a protest, but a isn’t this supposed to be about you? bubbling in your throat - but before you could say anything her mouth was on yours. She could taste herself on your lips and whined softly, tugging the fabric of your dress without actually undressing you.

The prince moved closer, and as Ellaria kept kissing you, her tongue caressing the roof of your mouth to drink down herself from your lips, he began disentangling your hair - he always liked it more when it was loose down your back, when he could wrap his hands around the locks and pull your head back to expose your neck, then run his fingertips through the length of it, or watch it spill around both of you as you laid down in the aftermath.

Ellaria’s lips left yours only to drag down, back towards your neck, lingering for a moment as she nipped your jaw. With a sigh you opened your eyes again, vision blurred for a moment before you glanced in Oberyn’s direction. With your fingers still hooked around his chin, you guided him forward - he folded with no resistance, his mouth seeking yours right away.

Oberyn was never slow with his kisses - he tried to devour you, open-mouthed and heated, the hand through your hair keeping you from slipping from his hold. You felt him shift forward, just as you felt Ellaria’s mouth latch onto your collar, leaving her mark on you as she pulled your dress down at last.

The room spun around you, dizzy from both their kisses, from Ellaria’s hands mapping your front with feather-like touches until she reached your mound and Oberyn’s hands holding onto your neck - one on the nape, one at the side, where he could feel your pulse jumping, and the vibrations of your moan when Ellaria’s fingers pushed between your thighs, a not-enough touch that had your hips twitch forward.

“Want to see you fall apart on him,” she hummed, words like silk across your skin, while she kissed her way down your now exposed chest, licking and teasing between the valley of your breasts as she pushed her hand forward, the heel of it catching the apex of your core even through the folds of the dress, a whine falling from your lips directly into Oberyn’s mouth - he drank the sound greedily, responding to it with a groan of his own.

“Can I see you, sweet one?” Oberyn’s voice was low, hoarse, pulling back to meet your eyes with a darkened gaze as his hands wandered down your shoulders, across your collarbones. “Or should I undress first?”

“Manners,” Ellaria chuckled, shifting closer to you both - she cupped your mound again, fingers curling between your legs still above the dress, pulling a soft, unsatisfied cry from you. “I like it,” she said, leaning in to kiss him instead.

Still brushing your hip with one hand, he wrapped the other arm around her, pulling her to him as their lips parted, welcoming each other kisses with greed - the first time you’d seen them kiss, your whole body had gone hot, strangled desire as to what you thought you could never have. Him, her, you still weren’t sure at the time. In that moment, they were both there - touching you as they got lost in each other, pulling you closer and closer to them, tethering your very being to their existence together.

Magneting to watch, you tilted your head ever so slightly as Oberyn’s eyes found you even though the kiss, your own tongue darting between your lips as if tasting the heating air, hungry for it, for them. You nodded just once, gently pulling the tie of his robe to set it loose, and the Dornish prince lost no more time, ruefully breaking apart from you both to all but tear off his clothes.

“You truly do have him wrapped around your finger,” Ellaria laughed again, shifting closer and then back, her naked form pressed against you from behind - she wrapped an arm around your middle, her thumb stroking the underside of your breast, the soft, sensitive skin there that had you sigh and lean into her. Meanwhile, she pushed your hair to the side, exposing the side of your neck to brush her lips there once more. “How does it feel, knowing we’re both at your mercy like this?” 

“So fucking good,” murmured with a gasp as her fingertips pushed past the edge of your wrinkled dress, pushing the fabric down and down your thighs. “You’re both so good to me, so -” words cut off by a moan when she pushed a finger inside you, the heel of her hand pressing against your clit.

“I told you she’d like it,” Oberyn was in front of you again, his body caging you between the two of them as his hands brushed up your sides, a delicate touch that had you shudder and clench around Ellaria’s finger, eyes opening to meet his gaze. “The power. The control,” she hummed, the sound reverberating across your back as she added a second finger.

“Do you know,” each of her words punctuated by her fingers curling and pumping inside of you, “he wanted you in our bed since the first time he laid eyes on you?” open-mouthed kisses tracing the column of your throat, the curve of your jaw. “How jealous he was when I got you first,” she added in a breathy chuckle, making the prince scoff softly.

“Should I make amends?” his hard length pressed against your lower stomach, Oberyn kept his gaze on your parted lips at each breathless word, Ellaria’s unrelenting pace bringing you closer to the edge, thighs threatening to clasp shut if not for her own legs keeping you open to her. You rested your hands on his chest, heaving and warm as he pushed his fingers into your hips, as if guiding your movements. “Should I fuck the jealousy out of you? Show how much I’ve wanted you both since the beginning?”

With a low noise choked back in his throat, he leaned forward, angling his head to chase your lips - he let it out when your hand shifted up to his neck, giving a gentle squeeze to the sides of his throat while keeping him back, just mere inches from your parted lips, each shaky breath Ellaria drew out of you hitting him on the mouth. His gaze flickered up and down, somewhat unfocused, lips to eyes to wrist to Ellaria - smirking against your skin.

“Answer me,” you let your touch move up to his chin, wrapped underneath his jaw to keep him in place, drawing a strangled yes out of him. You managed to hold his gaze a little longer with a small grin, before Ellaria curled her fingers again, hitting a spot that drew a loud moan out of you while shattering in her grasp, head lolling back against her shoulder and eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, El -”

“I told you - mine before his,” she nipped at your jaw, your neck again, moving her fingers until you were trembling against her and then, only then, pulling her hand back, leaving you to clench around nothing. “And you have never been this compliant with me,” she teased, her gaze turned to Oberyn.

He was gripping your hips a little tighter, twitching against your lower stomach as your hand fell back down to his shoulder for balance. Letting go of you on one side, he grabbed Ellaria’s wrist to pull her hand up to his face, her fingers glistening with your release.

“You’ve never minded before,” he retorted, leaning closer - their weights on each side of you rooting as you regained your breath, one each of their hands brushing along your body as he kissed her fingertips, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Perhaps I do now,” pressing her fingers to his mouth, she waited until he parted it to slip them inside, Oberyn’s eyelids fluttering as his free hand wrapped tighter around her wrist - like before with her, he was tasting you, getting lost in the feeling of you. “Or perhaps I just like knowing how much you want her. What you’re willing to do to get her.”

Soft laughter escaped you, still slightly breathless, a shudder of anticipation running down your spine in response to their light banter - you turned your head to place a kiss against Ellaria’s neck, skin warm and soft as she tilted her neck to the side, granting you more space. Oberyn released her fingers with a wet pop, his gaze burning the side of your face as you let your arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him closer while straightening again.

“Let me show her just how much, sweet one,” he got closer, the tip of his nose brushing yours, Ellaria’s hand brushing across his cheek - she was looking at you both, her gaze attentive and curious. “Please,” he added in a half whisper.

A delighted squeal left her as you chuckled softly, one hand tangling in his hair to pull him closer, crashing your lips onto his. Oberyn sighed in the kiss, leaning all the way forward and then back, a rocking motion that moved all three of you. His hands rested on your hips, kneading the flesh to coax you closer and closer as he leaned back until he was lying down.

Straddling his stomach, you let your back arch underneath Ellaria’s touch across your spine, her hips pressed against the curve of your ass as she settled behind you, her gaze never wandering from Oberyn and you, his hungry, open-mouthed kisses that let out low groans as you lowered yourself against him.

“Do you feel that, little prince?” his teeth showed at the name, eyes flashing as you rocked your hips, the tip of his cock nudging your entrance before you moved further down, coating him with your wetness. “How good she made me feel?” you straightened your back and leaned into Ellaria again, still rolling your hips slowly. Their hands locked over your hips, fingers intertwined to guide your motions. “How she got me ready for you?”

“Tease,” he muttered, causing Ellaria to chuckle, her chin resting over your shoulder a moment longer.

“You’re so beautiful like this, my love,” she spoke sweetly, kissing your neck instead of him - that, and the rocking motion they guided you through, pulled low cries from you, eyelids drooping as the pleasure built again. Still, you looked at him through your lashes, his neck tensing and the ever-growing pressure underneath you. “So wanting.”

He did look beautiful - lips plump and glistening, slightly parted to his heaving breath, a flush that spread across his chest and neck and cheek, warm under your touch, with his eyes dark never leaving you.

“Perhaps next time you’ll be the one watching,” husky-voiced, he bucked his hips, rocking you with the movement. A gasp left you with the drag of his cock through your folds, just teasing your entrance. “Of course I want - I’ve always wanted you both,” he added, his fingers curling into your flesh.

“Next time, huh?” you mocked, breathless yourself, still sensitive from Ellaria’s touch and feeling the pressure that burned hot in your lower stomach again, building with each shift of your hips. Oberyn bared his teeth, a half-grin, half-grimace.

“Next time,” for a moment, he wasn’t just Oberyn anymore - he was the prince of Dorne, who always got what he wanted, how he wanted it. But he’d never done that to you, he’d always known better, and as he looked up at you, you knew he wouldn’t now either.

So you lowered yourself against him, chest against chest to catch his lips in a kiss that he deepened without hesitation, one hand moving from your hip to your face, cupping your cheek as he licked into your mouth - behind you, Ellaria pressed herself closer, their hands still joined over just one of your sides as her other one slid between your bodies, her eyes following each and every movement, each and every swipe of tongue, shuddering herself.

“Is that a yes?” Oberyn asked, a whisper meant for just the two of you followed by a gasp - looking down, you saw Ellaria’s fingers wrap around his length, guiding you slightly up to make space and align him with your entrance.

“Yes,” you nodded, the tip of your nose brushing his and gasping softly when she began guiding you down. “Fuck - oh, fuck, yes,” you straightened your back, pressing yourself against Ellaria’s front as she kept directing your movements.

Her breath fanned across the skin of your neck as she made you sunk down slowly - almost agonisingly so - down Oberyn’s length, the hand she’d used to guide the prince, too, now resting onto your lower stomach, feeling him shift there. She gasped softly with your moan, her chin hooked over your shoulder as you threw your head back, grasping at Oberyn’s chest to find your balance.

He canted his hips upwards as he grabbed one of your hands with his free one, while Ellaria kept guiding you lower and lower, splitting you open. The pleasure and pressure were almost enough to blind you, everything else suddenly heightened - the feeling of Ellaria’s skin against yours, her breathing, her hands, Oberyn’s hands, his soft grunts, the muscles of his stomach shifting under your touch, their whispered praises until he bottomed out.

“I bet you feel so good, sweet one,” Ellaria murmured, pressing her hand against the swell of your lower stomach - Oberyn groaned too, his length twitching deep inside you as your walls clamped around him. “Doesn’t she, my love?”

“She does,” his eyelids fluttered heavily when Ellaria pushed her hips into yours, forcing you into a rocking motion that had you gasping - but he didn’t dare looking away, gaze flickering from your blissed-out expression to Ellaria’s, the coy smile curling her full lips. “Like she was made for us.”

You looked at him through lowered lashes, unable to quieten your moans at both their words and the motions Ellaria kept leading you through, a quickening pace that made your thighs tremble, a blissful ache that made the fire in your stomach burn brighter.

With a soft cry, you turned your head towards Ellaria, searching for a sloppy kiss to quieten both of you - Oberyn’s breath stuttered, while you pulled your joined hands up towards your chest. He pulled himself with that, replacing his hand with his mouth, kissing messily across your chest and exposed neck, up until he could bury his nose through your hair.

Harsh breaths against your skin, he used one hand for leverage to second Ellaria’s motions, fucking up into you as he dragged his teeth down across your neck and shoulder, marking his passage opposite to Ellaria’s previous lovebites.

Made for us.

“You’re close, aren’t you, sweet one?” Oberyn’s low voice sent shivers down your spine, and with you trembled Ellaria, too, pulling back from your mouth with a loud gasp. “Yes, you are,” he almost taunted then, a harsher thrust that shifted you both, Ellaria’s hand over your stomach pressing down again. “I can feel you.”

Your muscles tensed as her touch shifted, lower and lower until her fingertips caught the apex of your core, drawing a slow circle over your clit that pulled a long whine out of you. She chuckled at that, peppering your shoulder with kisses, her tongue darting out every now and then to taste the salt of your skin.

“Let go, love,” she whispered into your ear, though you were sure her gaze was locked with Oberyn’s - her fingers moved quickly over your clit, coaxing blinding pleasure out of you before she leaned forward from above your shoulder.

Eventually, it was their kiss that brought you over the edge - head just slightly turned, through a hazed vision you watched as their lips connected almost desperately, hungrily, the hand Oberyn supported himself up with reaching for the woman’s face, curling around her hair. And still Oberyn fucked up into you, still Ellaria’s fingers drew circles on your clit.

You dropped forward with a loud cry, your head shifting from Ellaria’s shoulder to Oberyn’s, hands resting over his chest as your orgasm was dragged on and on by both their touches and motions, a pleasure so blinding it felt disorienting.

“That’s it,” Oberyn groaned, while Ellaria pulled back her hand when you twitched against them both, a broken whine leaving you. “El,” he said then, softer.

The woman shifted back from you, and through your blurred vision you watched her lie back against the pillows, legs spread once more, eyes burning against you both as Oberyn switched you two around, pushing your back into the mattress.

“Can I come inside you, sweet one?” he asked softly, a gentler, slower rocking motion that had you whine again. You could feel him throbbing, muscles straining as he tried to keep himself still, panting softly - he hadn’t since your first encounter, always painting your skin with his release instead. “Please, please love.”

“Yes,” you gasped, arms wrapping around his neck. He hitched one of your legs up his side to give himself more room before he began moving again, deep, slow thrusts that made your eyes roll back, back arching towards him. He kissed your mouth, your jaw, your neck.

“So fucking good,” he slurred against your skin, his pace picking up again, matching the wet sounds right by your side - if you were to turn your head, you’d see Ellaria’s fingers vanishing between her legs, her gaze lingering on you two as she brought herself closer to her own peak, unabashed moans falling from her lips.

There’d be bruises on your hips from his snapping pace. You buried your hands through his hair, tugging harshly to pull his head up, lifting your head to kiss him again, muffling his praises and moans.

Oberyn groaned and stilled, just as a high-pitched whine left Ellaria, too - you moved one hand from the back of his head and reached for her, caressing up her leg until your fingers interlocked, and the prince was coming with his head buried in the crook of your neck, muttered, nonsensical words caressing your skin as he shuddered.

Ellaria moved closer, nestling into your side and leaving a long kiss to your cheek as Oberyn pulled out, both of you sighing heavily with the motion as he settled onto your other side, hand falling down to your stomach and then sides, gently massaging your aching muscles.

“I’d say you made it up to me,” she whispered, amused, and you couldn’t help the laughter bubbling in your throat, tilting your head to look at her. Her skin was flushed and glistening, curls ruffled around her head, and when you tipped your chin ever so slightly, she leaned in to kiss your lips tenderly.

On the other side, Oberyn kissed your shoulder first, then guided your head towards him to mimic her, an all-too-delicate kiss that drew a kiss out of you, curling up between their warm bodies as they drew closer. Your eyes were closed when they kissed, too, locking their arms together around you.

They’d had lovers - countless, really. Mindless sex to get themselves off over a pretty face or a nice smile, alone and as a pair. But it had never been like that, like you. It had never been a tangle of bodies and hearts, whispered promises and affection, resting spent in the same bed but still caressing one another, because they could not get enough of their skins, of the other’s. Because they would never get enough of your sweetness, never feel satiated.

[pedros-husband]

someone else flirts with you

pedro pascal characters x male reader

characters included: javier pena, joel miller, javi gutierrez, marcus moreno, ezra, din djarin, frankie morales, agent whiskey, silva, oberyn martell, dieter bravo,

Javier pena: this man is possessive, like to the point that he thinks any man/woman looking at you wants you. Because of this he is never too far away from you, he likes having an arm around your waist/torso, or holding your hand. but if he had to go away from you for a moment to go to the bathroom or something else, the moment he gets back his whole demeanor changes, his smile drops. he furrows his eyebrows and clenches his fists at his sides to stop himself from completely beating the person to a pulp. he takes a deep bretah and casually walks back up to you, kissing your neck or your lips, snaking his arm back around your waist. he'll say somehting oalong the lines of :

'hey baby, who's this?' if you give him an 'i'm uncomfortable' look he won't refrain from using violence on the person. if you know them or aren't uncomfortable he'll just be really touchy and try to whisk you away at the first moment. the second you get back home he's on you, pinning you to the wall and reminding you who your boyfriend really is.

Joel miller: (pre-breakout)- joel pre-outbreak is a lot more tame and controlled, he is still possesive and protective but he shoves it deep down. howwever if he sees someone flirting with you he slightly looses controls and will lash out, if you give him the go ahead he won’t refrain from teaching the person who flirted with you a proper beating. If you know them/ aren’t uncomfortable he will be more touchy and possessive, pulling you onto his lap and keeping his hands firmly on your hips. If the person makes a flirty comment or gets too close he’ll slightly dig his fingers into the soft flesh of your skin and bury his face into the back of your neck, inhaling your cologne to remind himself that you only have eyes for him.

(Post-out break)- it’s been so long and he’s lost so much that he is more protective of you than ever. He has little shame in public and is much more open to pda and a lot less afraid of showing people your his. If your uncomfortable he will grab the person by the collar and slam them against the wall/ ground, his face full of fury and his teeth gritted, veins bulging in his biceps.

‘That’s 𝗺𝘆 boyfriend you prick’ he’ll growl, if the person is scared enough he’ll drop them from his grasp and take your hand, dragging you back home. If they’re feeling bold and retort back, especially if it’s an insult towards you; he’ll move his hand to their neck and squeeze until their face goes red, eyes bulging and their trying desperately to choke out an apology as spittle rolls down their lips into their chin.

If you aren’t uncomfortable/ know them he won’t hurt them but he will pull you onto his lap with his hand on your inner thighs, rubbing his fingers over the materials of your jeans and closing his eyes to keep calm. If they continue being flirty he will put them in their place and tell them to back off.

Javi Gutierrez: he’s just a sweet boy so he may sit uncomfortably and twiddle with his fingers/ glass, biting his lip and reassuring himself that your his boyfriend and you only love him. If it gets to the point where your uncomfortable he will step in and stand in front of you protectively, asking the person to respectfully leave you both alone or just fuck off. If they leave he’ll turn around and pull you into his arms, burying his face into the crook of your neck and gently stroking your hair. He’ll whisper about how much he loves you and how he’ll always be there to protect you. If they don’t leave he’ll call over one of his guards to escort them away and deal with them accordingly.

Marcus Moreno: he is less bothered about it because he knows you only have eyes for him but if he’s particularly annoyed that day he’ll huff and pull you closer to him, interlocking your hands and pressing kisses to your knuckles every so often to cam himself down. If your uncomfortable he will use his powers to tip their glass over onto them, as a way to get them to leave for a moment whilst he whisks you away back home where he’ll pull you onto the couch and cuddle you for the night.

Ezra: he also doesn’t care much and will just continue to sit there and watch you carefully, maybe resting a hand on your thigh to show the person that your together. If your uncomfortable he would pull out his gun and press it tk the side of the person head and whisper in their ear what he’ll do to them in detail if they don’t leave you alone. If the person is scared enough to leave you alone he’ll drag you back to the camp and remind you how much better he can treat you than anyone else…

Din Djarin: he’s so sweet and soft he wouldn’t know what to do, he’s never had a boyfriend before so he’s never had this problem. He’d shift in his seat and play the straps on his armour or he’ll pretend to be busy with grogu. If your uncomfortable he will immediately stand up and walk ignorant of you protectively, blaster out pointed at the persons throat.

‘I suggest you stop harassing my boyfriend or I’ll take you in cold no questions asked.’ His voice has dropped a few octaves and even though he’s wearing his helmet the person could feel his death stare piercing through them. If they leave he’ll turn round and scoop you up into us arms, marching back to the razor crest and anxiously fussing over you. He won’t stop until he’s completely reassured that your unhurt and okay. He’ll make you go to the bunk room to rest with grogu for the rest of the day/night

Frankie morales: he has little patience with people who think they have the right to flirt with you. He’s been through so much, and lost so many people to care anymore. If your unbothered/ know them he’ll walk up behind you and snake his arms around your waist, whispering in your ear:

‘Can we leave sweetheart? I’m bored’ he’ll nibble under your ear gently and pester you until you eventually give in and go home. If you are uncomfortable he’d walk right up to the person and whisper into their ear

‘Leave him alone before i snap your neck’ and walk back to you with a smile, kissing your cheek. If they leave he’d stay and you’d both enjoy your night dancing or just sitting in each others presence. If they don’t leave he’d then back around to them and walk them into a wall, hand on their neck threateningly until they get scared enough and run away.

Agent whiskey: he has zero shame and self restraint around intolerant assholes who think they have the right to flirt with 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗺𝗮𝗻. No matter if your uncomfortable or not, if he thinks the person is overstepping a friend level of talking/ touching he will be on them or out of there as quick as possible, depending on his mood. If he’s happy he’ll just grab your hand and leave, pulling you into his car and gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turn white, his eyebrows furrowed so far it must hurt. The second your home he’s on you, and he’s gonna be rough..

If he’s in a bad mood he will stand up, his chair falling over in the process and he will beat the person till they’re unrecognisable then pick you up and throw you over his shoulder, his knuckles bloody and face splattered in blood. He’ll lick some of the blood off his lip then walk all the way home, even if you have a car he’s too angry to care or remember.

Silva:he’s sweet but when it comes to you he’s a whole new level of possessive, he knows his way around a gun and lasso and he’s not afraid to use it. If your uncomfortable especially, he will beat them up and take you home, pampering you and fussing over you until you feel better.

Oberyn Martell: he’s not too bothered really, he’s used to sharing his partners around and taking others himself. But sometimes he has to remind himself that it’s different now that your both princes. He’d monitor you from his spot on his throne, sipping his wine and not taking his eyes off you for a moment. If you show a hint of uncomfort he’ll have it known he doesn’t need the guards to deal with this one, he’ll get the prince himself. He’ll stride up to them with a face contorted in anger, he’d choose a punishment, on a good day he’d punch them into the table and whisper in their ear to stay away from you, but if he’s particularly angry or they stepped way too far, he’ll challenge them to a duel or stab them with his dagger. Then he’d take your hand and lead you to your chambers, giving you a sensual massage and a night to unwind in his arms.

Dieter Bravo: he’s not used to being in a committed relationship and doesn’t really know how to go about the situation. He may try to intimidate the person and end up escalating the situation, ending up in him in the ER with a black eye, a poured lip as you hold his hand and stroke his hair. You’d end up having to save his ass instead of the other way round.

[wardenparker]

The Viper’s Bride - ch 8

Oberyn Martell x female reader x Ellaria Sand x OC Co-written with @absurdthirst

The second Prince of Dorne has lived under the illusion that he would not be forced to wed for his entire life. He has enough lovers and illegitimate children to make him a legend across Westeros, and the love of his soulmate Ellaria Sand to content him. But a contract between his brother and a lord from the north will catapult him into a match that may prove to be as complicated as it is intriguing. Especially when he learns that you already have a soulmate of your own.

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 16.8k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: terrible parents, age gap 10+ years, arranged marriage, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol, internalized homophobia. Reader is described as having hair long enough to braid* Oral sex (m receiving), hair pulling, vaginal sex, unprotected sex. Mentions of Elia's fate (sexual assault and murder). Voyeurism, technically? Intimate touching/nonsexual intimacy. Brief mentions of pregnancy/childbirth/mortality in childbirth. Misogyny. Ellaria being an absolute badass. Stabbing. We respect sex workers here, but Petyr Baelish does not (asshole). Mention of forced medical procedure. Summary: A blissful morning after is interrupted by an unwelcome guest with even more unwelcome news. Notes: I have been waiting entire WEEKS to use this gif. Apologies for any technical difficulties with links and missing tags in this chapter - I posted about it last night but I experienced even more trouble as the night went on. 💖

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7

Your eyes open with the birdsong the next morning, drifting back to reality from the bliss of happy dreams. Oberyn's frame weighs you down in the plush bed, his leg hooked over yours and seemingly his whole torso on your back with his arms around you to hold you close. With the whole great expanse of bed to lay out in, he has attached himself to you even in sleep. It makes you hum softly and curl even deeper into his hold. As if you could burrow into his side so entirely that you would never have to leave.

Despite the excess and indulgences that Oberyn partakes in regularly, he is also a warrior. A man who has ridden with the Second Sons and even commanded his own company of men. He has warred in multiple locations and lived under the hardest conditions, awake and fighting at a moment's notice. When you move, his eyes open, focusing immediately before he allows himself to soften and hum against your neck. "Does the sun break over the horizon or is my lady wife an early riser?" He rasps into your ear.

"Your lady wife is a light sleeper," you mumble, turning your head to indulge in a long kiss good morning. Your thighs ache from last night's tumbling just as you had hoped and it is a welcome, wonderful feeling. "The birdsong roused me. Go back to sleep, my prince."

"Hmmm." Oberyn smirks at you and shakes his head. "It is too late, my cock has decided to awaken." He growls with a leering look down your body, and his hand slides up to cup your breast and pinch your nipple sharply.

The rasping moan it earns from you seems to please him, and your whole body instantly awakens at his touch. "How does my husband like his pleasure in the morning?" You are entirely soft and pliant at the moment, willing to give him what he wishes as he gave to you last night.

“I think I want my Princess to ride my cock.” He chuckles throatily. “Let me bite and lick your tits while you gallop to pleasure.”

Yes, your legs will ache all the more from such early exertions, but that is the furthest thing from your mind at the moment. You shift in his arms to straddle his waist easily, resting your weight on his thighs for a moment as you look down at him. His half-roused cock lies thick and proud against his belly, and for a moment you hesitate before deciding that he deserves as much indulgence this morning as you can muster. Instead of wrapping your hands around his length to stroke him to hardness, you move back and bend down, taking his cock into your mouth with an approving hum.

Hissing in pleasure, Oberyn’s hand wraps around your plait again, his hips rocking up to chase the tease touch of your tongue. “Fuck.” He groans, enjoying the very pleased look on your face as you hollow your cheeks. “Have you enjoyed sucking your lover’s cock?” He asks, twitching and hardening even more in your mouth.

Not willing to sacrifice having him in your mouth to answer, you hum in agreement and bob your head as if to nod. It is one of Raeden's favorite indulgences and you learned the skill well to please him.

“Hmmmm.” He groans, leaning back against the bed and closes his eyes. “You have talent.” He praises breathlessly. The praise washes through and encourages you to work harder, to take him deeper and use your hand well on what you cannot swallow. His vocal appreciation for your efforts has awoken your own desires, making your cunt ache and quiver with anticipation.

It doesn’t take long for Oberyn to tire of your mouth, talented as it might be. He wants to see you ride him. Tugging on your hair, he pulls you off his cock. “Mount me, wife.” He orders harshly.

You discovered long ago that you despise taking orders in life, which made your position all the more difficult. But in bed with a lover, to be needed or desired that badly is something you have found intoxicating. This morning, it makes you look up at him and smirk boldly, popping off of his cock with a sinfully wet sound. “The prince does not like his seed to be wasted?” You guess with a teasing air as you move forward to position yourself over him.

"I wish to feel your cunt around me." He rocks his hips up impatiently. He has not yet had his fill of your cunt and wants to be inside you before he cums. Although the smirk and sass that you give him makes him even harder, watching you become emboldened by your freedom with him.

You are slower to impale yourself on him than he was to bury himself last night, only by virtue of wanting to draw out the delectable feeling. Your pussy stretches to take him without resistance but it does push a soft moan from your lips. Once he is fully seated inside you, though, you start to move immediately. The feeling of him is too good to waste.

Your cunt lips are stretched wide around him and his hands on your hips move so he can pull your clit back so he can see more of your delicious cunt impaled on him. "Beautiful star." He groans passionately, looking up at you before one hand slides up to cup your breast.

“Do you like to watch me take you, husband?” The idea makes you groan, leaning back to brace your hands above his knees while you move.

"Yes." He grunts, biting his bottom lip until it is plump from the blood. Fingers digging into your skin and he hisses when you clench around him. His grip loosens and he palms it gently. "I find that your cunt is made for me."

“Then your cock must be made for me.” It is boldness that makes you talk that way, you know that, but a part of you almost feels the truth in it. Though – you must remember that you felt that way about Raeden as well. Perhaps you simply enjoy the pleasures of the flesh more than you knew.

Oberyn groans, arching a brow as your answer surprises him and even more, he agrees with it. “Perhaps it is, princess.” He huffs. “Perhaps it is.” Your hips are squeezed, then slapped as you ride him.

He delighted in your sounds last night so you do not hold back this morning. It would be a thing of wonder to feel this free no matter who you have in your bed, and you wonder in the back of your mind what Ellaria will sound like when you one day taste her sex for the first time.

Your sounds are loud, lusty and he doesn't mind who hears them. Proud that you would make your pleasure known when you had confided that you had to be quiet in all your other encounters. While he knows that you will be loud with others, he revels in being the first that you find your voice with.

Your combined moans bounce off the walls of the chamber, echoing down the hall to alert any and all who are up this early that the prince has already begun his work for the day. It is a scene of ecstacy right until the doors open, and for a moment you decide not to care. Let Leyth see you like this. She has seen worse in her time, surely.

"It is interesting that you house your wife in a whorehouse, Prince Oberyn." Oberyn's eyes slide past you and lock on Tywin Lannister, his expression pinched in disapproval as if he has a shit he has been unable to get out. His eyes slide over your bare back, down to your ass and his brow arches, "unless that is not your lady wife bouncing on your cock like a whore, and then I must ask what her price is."

The deep voice startles you more than anything else, making you immediately cover yourself and look over your shoulder in a panic. You have only seen Tywin Lannister on one other occasion – the late king's wedding just days ago – but you will never forget the man's face. It seems to bleed hate in every direction. Before you can even breathe again you have slipped out of Oberyn's lap and burrowed under the many blankets on the bed as if you are trying to disappear.

His breeches are on the table next to the bed and Oberyn grabs them, sliding into them and standing up, hopping slightly as he pulls them up over his hips and turns to look at Tywin. He is not pleased about the interruption and he narrows his eyes. "You have a sense of timing." He huffs, turning his back on him again as he reaches for the butter yellow robes he had been wearing yesterday. Your own gown would be too cumbersome for you to get into, so he will put his robe on you.

The covering is gratefully accepted, and Oberyn wraps you in it with gentle hands and ties it around your waist to preserve the modesty that is so important to you. "Tywin Lannister?" You whisper, barely breathing, and he nods silently that you are correct.

"May we have the room? Or are you a man who allows his wife to hear his business?" Lord Tywin asks, seeming barely interested in the answer.

Oberyn doesn't answer the man, but he asks you a silent question, arching his brow. He wants to know if you wish to stay or go. If you wish to stay, Oberyn will obstinately state that his wife is allowed wherever she wishes to be and she wishes to be by his side. If you wish to go, he will pat you on the ass and send you in to your lover and Ellaria.

The question is whether to cave to embarrassment or to exert yourself as a proud and steadfast wife, and it is a harder question to answer than you are proud of. While it would certainly be more comfortable to leave, that is not the role you wish to fulfill. You nod your head subtly, telling your husband that you wish to stay, and fiddle with the ring that he gave you yesterday for only a moment. "Wine, Lord Tywin?" You ask, as brightly and easily as if he had just stumbled into the sitting room at your father's estate.

His puzzlement only flashes across his eyes for a moment, and he nearly chuckles at how easily you seem to bounce back from the momentary mortification of being taken for a whore. "No, thank you."

"My wife goes wherever I wish and I wish for her to be by my side." Oberyn reaches for the small shawl to wrap around his shoulders. Smirking slightly at how you hold your head high and walk across the room to the table as if you were holding court instead of dressed in his robe with your legs bare.

Lord Tywin watches as you pour two glasses of wine and deliver one to Prince Oberyn, but pays it no mind. As he understands it, the marriage is but days old and done in haste. You will tire of each other before long. "There are matters to discuss," he declares though his air is still as careless as if he was discussing the weather. "Between you and I, Prince Oberyn."

He understands that is yet again another hint to send you away and yet, Oberyn smirks quietly. "Would you like to sit?" Oberyn offers, gesturing to the bed. If he knows the uptight prick he will not take the offer.

"No, thank you." He doesn't disappoint and since you have already offered him wine, Obyern takes a sip of his own.

"I am sorry about your grandson." He tells the man.

"Are you?" Lannister seems surprised at that, but only his voice and not his face or manner would ever let anyone know that.

"I don't believe that a child is responsible for the sins of his father." Oberyn takes a sip of his wine and lowers his cup. "Or his grandfather." He hums. "An awful way to die."

"Which way is that?" The unmoving nobleman barely lifts an eyebrow. You can feel the measured way he stands, the aura he gives off simply by being in such close quarters with him. Tywin Lannister reeks of quiet calculation and strategy, and your dislike for the man grows instantly.

Oberyn turns and faces the man directly, knowing the question would come eventually. "Are you interrogating me, Lord Tywin?" He asks boldly.

Tywin doesn't fluster or excuse his question. "Some believe the king choked." He manages to keep his voice even and convey derision at that idea at the same time.

"Some believe the sky is blue." Oberyn counters, "because we live inside the eye of a blue-eyed giant." He flops back down elegantly on the bed and looks over at you before back at the head of the Lannister family. "The king was poisoned."

"I hear you studied poisons at the Citadel." The accusation comes as cool and clear as if he was stating a fact, and you have to stop yourself from reacting instantly. A reaction would be defensive and make Oberyn look guilty. Just like defending your brother over stealing sweets as children had always given you away to your septa.

The accusation doesn't phase Oberyn. "I did." He tells Tywin. "This is why I know." He takes another sip of his wine.

"Your hatred for my family is rather well known." Tywin lays out. "You arrive at the capitol, an expert in poisoning, some days later, my grandson dies of poisoning."

"Rather suspicious." Oberyn agrees. "Why haven't you thrown me in a dungeon?" He asks curiously.

You open your mouth to bite back at Lord Tywin but the nobleman mows over you as if he has entirely forgotten you are in the room. It makes you far more angry than you would have expected, but you certainly are not taking kindly to the line of questions he is taking with your husband. "You spoke with Tyrion in this very brothel on the day that you arrived. What did you discuss?"

Amusement laces Oberyn's tone as he sits up. "You think we conspired together?" He asks.

Tywin doesn't answer, instead he asks again, "What did you discuss?"

"The death of my sister." Oberyn walks towards the taller man.

"For which you blame me." Tywin drones.

"She was raped and murdered by the Mountain." Oberyn stares the man down. "The Mountain follows your orders. Of course I blame you."

The head of House Lannister nearly shrugs, but that would be too undignified a movement. "Here I stand unarmed and unguarded. Should I be concerned?"

"With a witness, Lord Tywin?" You tick one eyebrow up at him, watching your husband saunter closer to the man he names as his greatest enemy. "Or do wives only count as wallpaper?"

Oberyn smirks, proud of your comment. "You are unarmed and unguarded because you know me better than that." He hums. "I am a man of reason. If I cut your throat today I will be drawn and quartered tomorrow."

Lannister's eyes flash back to you on the bed but he says nothing to you. His business is not with you this time. "Men at war commit all kinds of crimes without their superiors' knowledge." He reminds the prince, but there is an air of satisfaction there that rings out and you do not like it at all.

"So you deny involvement in Elia's murder?" Oberyn demands.

"Categorically." Tywin murmurs, although it feels as false as his making you for a whore.

Oberyn stares at him for a long moment, rage filling his veins but he simply smirks and turns back to you on the bed to pick up his wine cup. "I would like to speak with the Mountain."

"I'm sure he would enjoy speaking with you." Lord Tywin Lannister is not a fool. He knows there are secrets in this marriage between the infamous prince with many bastards and the daughter from the Vale that all at court had either forgotten about or assumed would end a spinster. He simply does not know what those secrets are. Unfortunately for him, you seem thoroughly infatuated with your husband. That will make you harder to break.

"He might not enjoy it as much as he thinks." Oberyn hums, amusing himself as he imagines snuffing the life out of the Mountain slowly. He picks up a berry from the table and pops it into his mouth.

Tywin seems amused and he starts walking towards him. "I could arrange for this meeting." He offers.

Oberyn is no fool and he sits down on the bed beside you. "But you want something in return."

"There will be a trial for my son. And as custom dictates, three judges will render a verdict." As Lord Tywin comes closer, the conversation now seems to be suitable for your ears as well, and he casts a glance down at you wrapped in your husband's robe before looking back to Oberyn. " I will preside. Mace Tyrell will serve as the second judge." A fact he seems less than thrilled about but has obviously deemed necessary. "I would like you to be the third."

Oberyn is eating again throughout Twyin's little speech and he arches a brow. "Why?"

"Not long ago, the Tyrells sided with Renly Baratheon." Tywin reveals. "Declared themselves enemies of the throne. Now they are our strongest allies.”

Oberyn huffs. "Well, you made the Tyrell girl a queen." He snarks. "Asking me to judge at your son's trial isn't quite as tempting."

"I will also ask you to sit on the small council to serve as one of the new king's principal advisors." The Lannister does not miss a beat, though he seems increasingly annoyed at Oberyn’s flippancy. "A residence in the capital dignified enough for your bride, of course, would be offered with such a position."

Obeyrn sets his cup down and turns around. "I never realized you had such respect for Dorne, Lord Tywin."

Tywin looks pained as he admits, "we are not the Seven Kingdoms until Dorne returns to the fold. The king is dead. The Greyjoys are in open rebellion. A wildling army marches on the Wall." Twyin paces past you and towards the window. "And in the East, a Targaryen girl has three dragons." Oberyn turns to look at the lord as he absorbs this news. If Doran knew of it, he did not reveal it before he had left for King's Landing. "Before long, she will turn her eyes to Westeros. Only the Dornish managed to resist Aegon Targaryen and his dragons."

"You're saying you need us." You murmur in recognition, including yourself amongst the numbers of the Dornish. You may not yet have set foot there, or begun to understand your true duties, but you are a princess of Dorne with Dornish blood in your veins.

Oberyn can tell that your comment irritates Tywin, which means that it is true. "That must be hard for you to admit." He tells the Hand. Tywin jerks his head slightly, fidgeting as if he wished to shake off the unpleasant truth.

"We need each other." He manages after an insincere smile. "You help me serve justice to the king's assassins, and I will help you serve justice to Elia's."

For a moment there is tense silence in the room, and then Tywin Lannister makes a grandiose show of holding his hand out to the Dornish prince. An offer is on the table. An opportunity to see through the thing that he knows Oberyn wants more than anything in this world – for his sister's brutalization and murder to be avenged. It is not a truce, but an agreement that each has something the other needs, and you all but hold your breath waiting to see what your husband will decide.

Oberyn stares at the man's hand for far longer than polite, making him think that he might not have sold his proposal. Only when he sees the doubt in the man's eyes does he reach out and capture his hand, shaking it with a smirking warning. "I do things my way, Lord Tywin."

"I did not expect anything else." The older man seems reluctant in his admittance of this fact but at least he has gotten what he needs. "I will have your quarters prepared for you at the Keep. A suite for you and your bride should suffice nicely." When his eyes turn to you they are icy cold. "I hear she is fond of the library."

“We will stay here.” Oberyn insists.

"It is hardly a long-term residence for a member of the small council." Tywin knew this would be a sticking point. That the prince's desire to keep far away from the place where his sister died would complicate issues. "The position affords you the comfort and prestige of a residence in the Red Keep. It is expected."

Frowning, Oberyn’s jaw clenches as he turns towards you. He had not anticipated staying longer than another week, but it might be longer if he sits in the small council. Your eyes are warm, and he smirks before he turns back to the Lannister. “I will need more rooms.” He tells Tywin. “For my lover, and for my servants.” He chuckles. “I have grown very fond of the service I receive here and I do not think the Red Keep can compare.”

The sound that the Lannister patriarch expels is caught between a tut and a chuckle, as if the prince's demands are ostentatious and amusing. A thing to entertain oneself with for a short amount of time and nothing more. A mere trifle. "I will arrange your accommodations," he nods, looking between you. "And send word when your rooms are ready."

“Now if you will excuse me, Lord Tywin.” Oberyn tosses off the shawl and crawls back onto the bed with a lecherous smirk. “I have a gorgeous young wife who I need to fill with my seed.”

"Of course." He strolls from the room without another word, thinking as loudly as he can that the prince's wife is not nearly as young as she should be if he intends to breed her.

Instead of kissing you, or starting to remove your clothes, Oberyn lays beside you, reaching out and caressing your hand. “What did you think of your first small council meeting?”

Waiting until you can hear the door at the end of the hall shut tight, you exhale slowly and look back at your husband with concern. "He wants more from you than he is saying," you murmur, keeping your voice low out of an abundance of concern. This feels like any average week with your upset mother as a child, laying in your brothers' bed with them and trying to figure out how to soothe her. "I do not know what, but we should be on our guard."

“Of course he does.” Oberyn agrees easily. “He is a Lannister. They always want more.” The smirk slides into a frown and he hates the thought of living in that fucking keep for even a day. “But I will not give him more than I wish to,” he assures you, leaning in and kissing your lips. “It means I must decide what I wish to do.” He pulls away and sighs softly, “I must go.” He tells you. “Talk to my men. You stay here with your lover and Ellaria.”

"Will you tell me what you decide?" You ask, concerned that this may be the threshold of what he includes you in.

He nods seriously. “Despite what the north might think, a Princess of Dorne must know what her husband knows.” He understands that he’s not bringing you now, but he needs to have some serious discussions with the men and that wouldn’t happen if he brought you.

"Do what you must, and we will be here for you when you return. But—" Your hand strikes out, caressing his cheek gently. "If you are to talk to your men, take Raeden with you. Ellaria and I will be safe here, and he must know all in order to protect us."

“Do not leave the brothel.” Oberyn cautions you, smirking slightly. “Maybe you and Ellaria can become better acquainted. A bath together?”

"I certainly need one," you huff slightly, half-rolling your eyes. "Or else I shall arrive at your side to the Red Keep smelling of sweat and cum."

“No sweeter scent to be had.” Oberyn chuckles, sliding his hand up your thigh and slapping your ass. “I will need my clothes.” He prompts. “As fetching as you look in them.”

"Of course." If you claimed that you had forgotten that you were wearing his robe it would be a lie, but it is soft and elegant and you cannot say that you do not enjoy wearing it. "My robe is in the other room." As if on cue, a soft moan sounds from beyond the door that connects to the chamber where Raeden and Ellaria slept last night. "It appears that our lovers are awake."

“They are.” He hums, listening to the sound of pleasure. “Should we watch?” He asks you seriously. “Do you wish to see your lover? Or wait until they are done?

"Let them enjoy their time," you decide, hearing Raeden's voice dip deep. Whatever Ellaria is doing, he is enjoying it thoroughly. "If you need to leave immediately, I will understand."

“It can wait.” He tosses his head back and looks up at the ceiling. “Damn Tywin and his sense of timing.”

"He could not have timed it better if he tried." Laying back in his arms, you frown at the thought. "I half suspect that he waited outside the room to make sure he was interrupting."

“It matters not.” Oberyn only hates that you felt exposed. His fingers drag down to the belt he had tied and quickly unknots it. “He will be jealous that he saw beauty he could not buy with his coins.” Once the robe falls open, his hand finds your breast and he palms it. “What does my Princess like in the mornings?”

“This,” you hum softly, leaning into his touch. Though it is not at all the question he is asking. “Will I not have plenty of things to keep me busy in the morning in Dorne? Running your household and seeing to royal duties?” Of course most responsibilities would fall to his brother’s wife, but to run a royal household will be a challenge to learn.

“No.” He hums in amusement. “The servants run the house.” He chuckles. “Is it not the way in your father’s house?”

“I did not think I would be cleaning a palace on my own,” you tease, laughing with him. “But who tells them what to cook for meals? When to expect visitors? Organize social events? Being a well-married woman is all about social engagements, according to my brothers’ wives.”

Oberyn scoffs and shakes his head. “Dorne is different. At least for my house.” He chuckles. “The cooks know our favorite foods and it will be a surprise to see who they cooked for that night when we sit down to eat.” He had thought it particularly genius of his brother’s wife to give them control over the food. “Unless there is a special event and then there will be arguments over what to serve with the cooks throwing things and shouting how their recipes are best.”

"I am sure I will learn what is expected of me soon enough." It sounds as though the things that you have been taught regarding how to run a household and be the lady of the house will not quite be right in Dorne. But this is not the time to agonize over that, considering Tywin Lannister has now bought your husband's presence in King's Landing for at least the next two weeks.

"Yes you will." He has no doubt that you will be a magnificent princess if your reactions to Lord Tywin's intrusion on a private moment is anything to go by. His eyes slide over your breast, watching as the bud of your nipple tightens, pulling the skin together. "How do you feel about staying in the Keep again?" He asks idly. "No doubt your bitch mother will moan to stay." He snorts. "Watch the festivities of Lord Tyrion's head being removed from his body."

"I will adjust, although I admit that the bath here is far superior to the one I had in the Keep," you smile slightly. "And unfortunately, Lord Tywin was correct about one thing. I do enjoy the library." After a moment, and a deep shuddering breath as his fingers continue to tease your skin, you sigh. "Do you think he did it?" From what you saw, the king's uncle looked as shocked as anyone else present. And you had not taken the man for any kind of actor or even a very good liar.

"I do not." Oberyn has his suspicions but he won't share them with you. Not to keep you in the dark, but to keep you safe. "Whoever killed the king had much more to gain than just a petty grievance. And Lord Tyrion had nothing to gain by killing his nephew."

"I suppose we will find out in two weeks." It is longer than either of you thought to stay in King's Landing, and not for a good reason, but you will try to make the most of it.

"It will not be a fair trial." Of that, he has no doubt. "At least you will be able to visit with the queen while you are there."

"She was very kind to me when we arrived." Queen Margaery, for better or for worse, is one of the only friendly faces that you know at the keep. "In fact, she encouraged me by only speaking good things of you. So I likely ought to tell her how right she was."

He hums thoughtfully, pausing his touch as he wonders why the Tyrell girl would speak so highly of him. Unless… "You must talk to her again." He encourages with a nod. "Offer her comfort and support."

"Of course I will." You would not dream of doing otherwise, after having been the person to stand in horror with her on the dais while King Joffrey lay dying. "I would not think to do anything else."

"She wants something from you." He reaches up to cup your chin and tilt your head up. "If there is a time to mention visiting Dorne, offer it to her and see how she reacts."

"I will." It is not a desirable feeling, to understand that the younger woman's friendliness might not have been true kindness or affection for you at all, but that is how the world works. Instead of falling to pieces over the unfairness of a possible lie, you nod. "And I will tell you when we speak of it."

He sees the doubt and the way your eyes dim slightly, hating that you have come to realize that your position makes you a most valuable friend to make. "She is scared, princess." He reminds her softly. "The Lannisters all but hold her hostage. She will have to marry Tommen."

"But..." Your mind whirls back into motion, realizing how little you actually have to regret. "He is...nine years old."

"And she will be expected to bed him." His lip curls in disgust or perhaps pity for the girl. While he was in a woman's bed when he was merely fourteen, he had not had the timidity of the future king.

"I cannot stomach that thought." Especially with your best guess that Queen Margaery is perhaps twice the young boy's age. You shake your head, listening for the last few moments of pleasurable sounds from the next room and lying back in the bed when your lovers fall silent again on the other side of the door.

"At least two of us found pleasure this morning." Obeyrn huffs, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. "We will find ours later. Unless you find it with Ellaria while your Ser Raeden and I are gone."

"Even if I find it with Ellaria," which you are not certain you will do, although the idea is no longer far-fetched. "It will not stop me from wanting to find it with you again tonight."

"Whatever you wish." He promises. "We must make sure the halls of the keep are filled with pleasure."

"And there is a chance we may be the only ones finding it." You huff slightly, but lift yourself from the bed to slip out of his robe completely. You can wear your thin shift to walk into a room whose occupants have already seen you bare. "We should tell them what has passed."

"We will." It would be an insult to both if he were to keep them in the dark about the day's surprising outcome. It would be futile anyway, because Ellaria would sense something is amiss and he is sure that Raeden is the same way.

A small knock at the door is enough, and you crack it open a respectfully small amount. Not to interrupt them the way you had been this morning. "Are you...is it...alright if we come in?"

Surprisingly, there is a shuffling of sheets and fabric in the dark. The sound of clothes being thrown on hastily takes a moment to recognize but Oberyn tilts his head curiously at the cause of such a thing.

Ellaria appears at the door a moment later with a smile and opens it wide. "Our lovers have emerged from consummating their marriage," she hums with a warm smile. "Have you enjoyed your morning as well?"

His brow ticks up, but he says nothing about the pause before. “It would have been wonderful if Tywin Lannister had not shown up and rudely interrupted my cock being ridden.”

The name makes Ellaria frown immediately and she moves aside to let you both in. "What happened, lover?" She asks with concern. Her hand finds Oberyn's easily and she leads him to the bed, assuming you will all sit together while he relates the tale. "What did he want?"

“I have been given a seat on the small council.” Oberyn informs her. “And I will sit on Tyrion Lannister’s trial.” He turns his dark eyes towards his lovers and sighs. “We will be moving into the Keep today.”

"Oberyn." Ellaria's frown deepens measurably. She knows how very little he must wish for such a thing, considering his sister's fate. "Are we to...to stay here?"

He understands what she really means and it makes him frown even more than he already is. "No." He tells her smugly. "I demanded additional rooms for my lover and servants." He juts his chin towards the door. "Cal and Leyth." He tells her. "They come with us. Pay Littlefinger whatever price he names."

"We will arrange it." You may not be as used to handling Oberyn's affairs as Ellaria is, but you must learn eventually. And someone who might try to brush off a prince's lover will do no such thing when dealing with a princess.

Ellaria's brow raises as she turns to look at you for a beat before turning back to Oberyn. "Of course lover, everything will be as you wish." She promises with a smile, leaning over and kissing him passionately, knowing he is unsettled in this turn of events.

Your robe is hanging from the back of a chair at the table along one side of the room, and you slip into it before making your way over to Raeden. "You enjoyed your night?" The question might be unnecessary, but wanting him to be happy and comfortable is your default feeling in regards to your soulmate.

“Very good.” Raeden admits, as he sweeps you into his arms to kiss you rather desperately. Sliding his tongue into your mouth immediately as if to pay penance to you for kissing another.

The comfort of having him near is immediate, letting you melt into his side and sigh open for him like a blooming flower. His arms around you are a protective wall of calm and safety, and a soft whine from the back of your throat is a reminder that you were very much interrupted this morning and you are still feeling cheated from your own pleasure.

“When your new lover is finished kissing his soulmate, Ser Raeden and I will go talk to the Lords of Dorne.” Oberyn tells Ellaria. “You and my wife stay in the brothel.” He cups her chin. “Please.”

"He will never be finished," Ellaria huffs an amused laugh, having found that it is something that Raeden thoroughly enjoys. Still, she sets her chin on Oberyn's shoulder and kisses his cheek softly. "You need only say the word and I will undertake anything for you, my love. You know this."

“I know.” He knows that Ellaria’s loyalty to him is unshakeable and yet he still worries about the murky waters he must tread to find satisfaction for Elia’s murder. “Tywin was not pleased to learn that my paramour was coming with me. He will be less pleased to learn the Princess has a paramour of her own.”

"He can shove his shriveled cock in a bucket of leeches," Ellaria huffs again but this time she rolls her eyes. "I doubt he feels pleasure unless he is on the battlefield. Frigid man." She shakes her head and does not move from his side. "Do what you must, my love."

He smirks, nodding as he reaches for her hand. You and Raeden are still wrapped up in each other and he laces his fingers with hers. "How was your night, my sun? Did your Raeden pleasure you like you had hoped?"

"He is sweet, and gentle." Ellaria smiles as though that is an indulgence. "Not timid, but eager to please. It will take some coaxing to find the animal in him, but I do not mind that."

"Yes, she said sometimes she wishes that he makes her ache." Oberyn turns and drops a kiss on her bare shoulder. "Was it his guilt that made you dress before opening the door?"

She nods - the explanation is a simple one and she gestures to the two of you on the edge of the bed together. "Hers was less so?" Ellaria guesses with a sly smile. "We heard you both."

"You know that I am irresistible." He jokes, winking at his lover. "Her cunt is perfect." He hums. "You will enjoy it." Now that the barrier of propriety has been broken, he has no doubt Ellaria will spend most of the day in bed with his wife. His neglected cock twitches at the idea.

"I will take care of her for you," Ellaria promises.

"Please do," Raeden looks up and his eyes on Ellaria are soft.

Oberyn leans in to kiss Ellaria again. "We must dress and then you will be meeting the other lords from Dorne, Ser Stone." He informs Raeden. "Tell them of what has transpired and what is to come."

"Aye." With one more kiss, Raeden stands and starts to dress, donning the Dornish robes that he now takes great pride in wearing. Oberyn pats his lover's hand before he stands to get ready so they can depart.

In mere moments they have gone, and you look to Ellaria with an unintentionally nervous expression. “Would you share a bath with me?” It is the most normal thing you can think to offer, and would keep the two of you together. Something that you know the prince is concerned with.

Her eyes flash with something indistinguishable but her lips curve into a sultry smile and she sways her hips as she moves towards you. "Of course, princess." She purrs, reaching out and stroking your cheek lovingly as she stares into your eyes. "I will have the servants prepare the bath and I will bathe you myself." She insists. "I am well familiar with the ache and mess that comes with being in the prince's bed."

“Ellaria…” as tempting as that sounds, and it does, you hesitate. “You…are not my maid. I asked because I wish to spend time with you.”

"And I offer because I wish." She promises with a small pat to your cheek. "You could not get me to act as your servant if you wanted." She is not boasting that fact, but it is true. Oberyn would never allow it.

“It is the last thing that I want.” You promise her quickly. “I admire you, Ellaria Sand. For your strength, and your confidence. I—I honestly hope to learn from you…if that is something you would allow.”

Her brows arch in surprise for a moment and the confidence falls away. The woman underneath shines through and her eyes soften as if you were her lover. She cups your cheeks and smiles at you. "Of course, princess." She nods, her thumbs stroking your cheek. "I will teach you whatever you wish to learn."

"You love him very much." That is beyond questioning, and you swallow the accompanying thought in your head as Ellaria takes your hand to guide you out of the shared chambers and down to the bathing room. "And you have lived in Dorne all your life. There is much more you can tell me about our home than the stories my grandmother could remember from her childhood."

Leyth is in the hallway, bringing a pitcher of wine to the room and Ellaria stops her, ordering a bath for you and her. She knows that the water will be ready before the two of you are even down the end of the hall. "I will tell you how the house works. It is very interesting." She chuckles as she watches the servant rush away.

"Please." After this morning's revelation, you desperately want to understand how things are run at the palace. "He told me that things are done differently than the north and now I have no bearing of what I am supposed to do, and–" You look to Ellaria so gratefully. "I do not want to disappoint or embarrass him."

"You will not do either of those things." She promises you with a small smile. "Doran resides at the Water Gardens since Sunspear is difficult to navigate with his chair. Often it is Oberyn who sits at Sunspear in his brother's stead."

"So that is where we reside?" It had never occurred to you that Ellaria and her children would live apart from Oberyn, especially since he has often referenced having his children nearby.

"Yes." She nods. "We often visit the Water Gardens so we have rooms there as well." She smiles. "It is lovely. Perfect for sparring the courtyard or frolicing in the cool waters."

"But most of the time we are in the capital." You nod, beginning to form a better picture of their life. "Prince Doran and his wife rule from the Water Gardens, then? It is fortunate that there is a place for them to reside that is better for his health. And...both staff have adjusted to how she prefers things to be run?" You must sound like an insecure child asking, but you want to do the very best job that you can.

“Mellario is a strong willed woman.” Ellaria nods. “But she is also unique in her ways of ruling. She believes the servants are happier if they feel they have purpose. A say in the running of the household. They created their own cleaning schedules and the palaces are sparkling. The menu is varied and often better than the best taverns.”

"Then that is how it will stay." It would hardly improve conditions or opinions of anyone involved for you to change things that not only work but also make people happy. "My role is then...to sponsor social engagements and to bear children?" Which does not sound like an unfortunate life at all, but you want to be sure you have not missed anything.

“You will be an advisor to your husband. A hand of the throne of Dorne when needed.” Ellaria opens one of the bottles of oil and sniffs, wrinkling her nose and putting the stopper back in it and choosing another. “Lords will come to you to solve their problems when Oberyn and Doran are unavailable. Women in Dorne are not chattel, we are also warriors.”

"A fact I doubt my mother had any idea of." And thank the gods for that, otherwise she never would have forced your father to agree to the arrangement. As horrible as it sounded to you weeks ago, that is how wonderful you find it now. "Is this why you did not want the title for yourself?" You ask her carefully, not at all trying to offend her. "To be free to live as you choose instead of ruling?"

"I am a bastard." She shrugs one elegant shoulder as she unstops another bottle and sniffs, humming in approval. "There would always be someone who would question my claim as Oberyn's soulmate or insult him." She turns back to you and lifts a brow. "I did not wish to have my lover kill that many men on my behalf." She smirks. "And I have no use for formalities."

“Something I excel at, for better or for worse.” You nod in understanding and let her lead you to the bath. “My mother made sure of it, of course.”

She pours the oil into the bath, the smell rising with the steam as it swirls through the hot water. "We all have our purposes." She hums as she pulls the ties to your robe. "You will strengthen the title of my lover and your husband."

"I wish I had your certainty." It is one of the things you envy most, if you are honest, but you offer Ellaria a smile and pull your own shift over your head. She has already seen you naked, there is no reason to be shy.

"You are lovely." Ellaria hums, her eyes sliding over your body with lust and approval at your boldness. She smiles and gestures for you to get into the water. "I will get our soaps and cloths."

“My reasons for being shy in front of you are gone.” The rising water is hot and you slip into it gladly. “I may not have your confidence with new lovers, but I certainly do not wish us to be strangers.”

"Tell me about your first lover." Ellaria gathers the necessary supplies to bathe and she quickly slips into the water after discarding her own gown to join you.

“She was my best friend, besides my brothers. Her father was the maester who kept my father’s library and she was the only other girl I knew who enjoyed reading the way I did.” When Ellaria begins to wash you, you relax subtly. She offered, you remind yourself. “That is how it began. Reading together.”

"Romantic." Ellaria hums. "Oberyn reads to me sometimes, it puts me right to sleep." She knows how to read, she's actually very good at it, but she does not have a taste for reading like her lover does. That man's mind is far sharper than hers and she knows it.

“We would read to each other under the trees in the garden. Fairy stories and histories. Tales of the old world and fictions that our fathers disregarded as drivel for little girls but were full of the best questions about life.” It is good to know that Oberyn has the same taste for reading that you do. It can be something you do together.

"You fell in love imagining together." Ellaria smiles as she imagines two girls reading and yearning for one another. Perhaps stealing a kiss in secret and giggling about in the dark while touching her lips. It is very innocent and her heart aches that you had to hide such a beautiful thing.

"We did." That might be the most accurate way of describing your years as a girl with Brynna, and you never would have thought to put it that way. "As we grew older, she was given a place in the kitchens and my mother became stricter about allowing us to spend time together. It was..." You trail off, looking down at your own hands before managing to look back at Ellaria in front of you. "It was the night I returned from my only other trip to King's Landing that she kissed me for the first time."

She drags the soapy cloth over your shoulders and down your chest. She's not bathing you to seduce you, so she doesn't grope as she cleans. "And how did you feel when she kissed you?" Had you ever been kissed by a boy before?"

"No one ever." You shake your head, deciding to watch her hand as it moves. Revealing this part of you is more exposing than even being naked. "We came home late and my parents sent me to bed right away. But Brynna brought a tray to my room and told me how much she'd missed me and..." It makes you feel a little silly to admit, but you do: "I was only fifteen. And when she kissed me I was so aroused that I moaned and I had no idea why."

Ellaria nods, waiting for you to continue your story. It will do you good to tell your story and have it accepted. She knows you will keep talking, like bleeding a wound of infection.

"For years it was no more than kisses." Despite feeling like you are rambling, you cannot seem to stop. The relief of being heard is far more powerful than you had expected. "Stolen in the garden or late at night in my room. The day that desire became too much for us to bear...I see now how we lied to ourselves. Only men could make love to women, according to my septa. So even though we felt enough guilt and shame to keep what we were doing a secret, we did not call it lovemaking."

"But it was addicting, wasn't it?" Ellaria asks gently. "It makes you crave those stolen moments." She could imagine that being the case, falling together as often as you could and stealing moments of sublime pleasure.

"For almost two years," you admit, finding Ellaria's eyes again. "And then one day I was out in the woods and nearly impaled by a boar. And Raeden saved me."

Her jaw tightens slightly and she relaxes into an indulgent smile. "You found your soulmate.” She nods. "And you felt as if you could not have both."

"It was more than that...we had an agreement." One that seems both childish and useless in retrospect. "I had promised her that when she met her soulmate that I would not come between them. She was free to marry for love and I was not, so who was I to be selfish with her?" You sigh, looking away again and feeling the old shame wash over you. "Instead, I met Raeden first, and she wished me love and luck with him. When she met her own soulmate a year or so later it seemed serendipitous."

"I am sorry." She really is. There has never been an issue of having to deny her feelings towards anyone, especially someone that she has loved. Guilt swirls in her stomach and she focuses on you. "Perhaps you can write to your first lover? Catch up on her life and fill her in on yours."

"I think she would be very surprised to hear all that has happened." Brynna's life is tranquil, as far as you know. Far better than yours was in many ways right up until a few days ago. "Her husband is a farmer, and the last I heard she has birthed two beautiful babies."

"Lovely." She hums. "And soon, perhaps, you will join her in the joys of motherhood." She knows how virile Oberyn is and you are still young enough to be bred easily. Unless you had decided to keep drinking your tea.

"It is in the hands of the gods." It surprises you how much that makes you smile, one hand gently touching your belly as if you must be terribly delicate with your own body when that is certainly not how you behaved last night.

"May the Seven shine on you." There is no jealousy if you wish to carry another of Oberyn's children. Her own womb has already been used many times and he would not love his children any less when he holds his legitimate heir in his arms. The little prince or princess would be raised with their Sand Snake siblings.

"I am...scared," you confess quietly, reaching out to stop Ellaria's arm and find her gaze. "I know that childbirth is not easy. I have seen that first hand. But I...I wish to do this."

"There is a tea." Ellaria smiles, reaching up and caressing your face. "Oberyn brewed it to help me through my labors. It helps with the pain and eases the birth." She's not quite sure what he had brewed but after the labor of the first, he had made it his mission to find something to ease her suffering. "You will have that tea, I promise you."

"Thank you." There is no shame in admitting to a mother of four babes that you are nervous of your first, but it is still a relief to be offered so much comfort. "My brother's wife nearly lost her life with her second child. I–" You tremble a little. "I cannot imagine leaving any of you behind. Let alone my child."

"It is an unfortunate part of giving life." Ellaria won't deny that. Too many women suffer and die while they are trying to birth their babies. "I am sorry you had to worry so about that but you will have my lover to dote on you." She smiles in fond remembrance. "The prince was very indulgent while I was carrying his daughters. I have no doubt he would lavish the same attention and affection on you."

"He loves you very passionately." There is a second part of that thought that you do not dare voice, but you smile at her and lean forward, pressing an affectionate kiss to her cheek. "And you are so very deserving of it. Thank you for soothing my fears, Ellaria. For...if it is not altogether too forward of me...for being my friend."

"I am hopefully to be a lot of things to you." She purrs, reaching out and touching your shoulder. "What we become will come with time, but for now, I am most definitely your friend."

"Oberyn had hoped we might indulge each other while he is with the lords," you admit, allowing yourself to enjoy the warmth of her touch. "But that is up to you."

"We should wait." Ellaria decides, frowning slightly and shakes her head. "There is much to be done to get ready to move to the Red Keep." She looks at you earnestly. "We will need to order plenty of Dornish wine to be found and provided to us, he will be uneasy in that keep."

"I would not want to be anywhere one of my brothers died." The understanding washes over you, extinguishing any arousal that might have been building, and you nod. "And we must see what it will take to convince Lord Baelish to give up Cal and Leyth."

"Yes." She arches a brow. "You will not oppose having them serve you in the Keep, will you?" She knows that you accept Oberyn having lovers, but it is a different thing to have whores serve you.

"I would only object to it if they did not wish to serve us." Maids, whores, servants – it does not matter to you as long as it is work being done of one's own free will. Forced labor and slavery are abominations you will not accept.

“We will have to pay for them.” That is an unfortunate truth. “But they will be free to leave our side once their debt to Littlefinger is paid.”

"That is a relief." There is much to do, and you soak your hair carefully, making sure that no knots have been left behind from the night before while Ellaria washes herself. The two of you are done in the bath before long and you both dry off to don your robes again and go back upstairs.

“I will find Baelish and make sure that he knows that Cal and Leyth are coming with us.” Ellaria hums as she sweeps into the room.

"I will make sure that my things and Raeden's are packed." It was not as if you had unpacked much, especially considering you had only been in the brothel with Oberyn and Ellaria for a few days.

“Good.” Ellaria looks at you seriously. “We are going to a place that will be very dangerous.” She cautions. “Do not speak around the servants unless they are ours.”

"I will remember." You promise her. The maids, as they say, know everything.

She smiles and nods at you before quickly turning back to her trunk to find a gown to change into. Not a normal one that she has no problem tossing to the ground in a moment but one that reminds Baelish that she is Oberyn’s lover and has been for years.

******

There is an unhappy, squat man in Littlefinger’s office when she arrives, and he does not look up from his accounts book. “If you want a whore, go to the front room and wait. If you want a job, go away. No room for novices here.”

Ellaria snorts and does neither of those things. She strides up to the desk and reaches over, closing the book on the man’s fingers. “You think the Prince of Dorne’s lover is a novice?” She demands haughtily.

He looks like the sort of man to whimper and whine and he is - attempting to snatch his hand away and failing. “What do you want?” He demands, trying to wiggle his way out of the book again. “Lord Baelish isn’t here.”

“There are two whores that I want to take with me.” She smirks, leaning over and staring at him with an amused gaze. “Prince Oberyn wants them to come when we leave your establishment.”

“We don’t sell our whores.” The man tells her, gaze obviously aimed down her blouse instead of at her face. “Might trade, though. He can take one if he leaves you behind.”

It’s not smart of the sniveling little weasel to have a dagger out on the table whilst insulting her. Her own temper isn’t quite as fierce as her lovers, but her aim is just as precise. Snatching up the dagger, she buries the tip of the blade into the man’s hand and through the leather cover of his book, pinning his hand to it.

“Seven HELLS!” The weasel bellows like he’s had the air punched out of his lungs, jumping up from his seat only to pull himself back down again immediately when he realizes his hand isn’t going anywhere. “You goatfucking cunt!”

Her eyes flash and her own dagger comes out, pressed to his Adam’s apple just enough to knick the skin. “I fuck a prince, not a goat, you limp dicked bastard.”

“Aye!” He would nod if it would not impale him on her blade, instead his eyes flit between the two weapons in panic. “Oo—of—of course!” He squeaks with his watery eyes landing on her face again. “Wh—whatever you say!”

“Now.” Satisfied that she had gotten her point across and manners would be observed, she pulls the dagger away and resheaths it inside a pocket of her dress. “There is the matter of payment for Cal and Leyth’s freedom from this establishment.” She hums conversationally, a small smile playing on her lips. “I think we can come to some agreement?”

Scrambling for anything to stem the flow of blood sends the man halfway across the room for a length of fabric that was surely hanging in one of the brothel rooms only yesterday. He wraps it around his hand furiously, crying out in pain and groaning in frustration. Littlefinger will have his head for losing Leyth. “Together they are expensive,” he warns, hoping to discourage the desert dwelling bitch.

“More expensive than the price you put on your cock?” She asks, arching a perfect brow and pursing her lips. “Perhaps you would rather I tell the prince that you are unwilling to deal with me?”

“No.” Being unwilling to deal with the second Prince of Dorne could see him dead as well as cockless, and he shudders. “Fifty gold for them both,” he bargains, knowing that Littlefinger paid far less. The least he can do is make his employer a tidy sum.

She knows that he is trying to strong arm her and she crosses her arms. “Your boss has fled the city, he is not coming back. Change is coming to King’s Landing. Thirty gold and be glad to have two less to feed.”

If he were not currently bleeding out through his hand he might fight harder. He might bargain and deal. He might even see his way to getting his own profit out of this deal. But it’s either his life or Littlefinger’s whores. “Fine.” He huffs, Nearly snarling at the pain in his wound. “Pay now and take them today. They are no longer my problem.”

“Done.” She muses, turning on a charming, if somewhat sharp, smile. From another pocket, she pulls a purse of coins and opens it. Dumping the amount, forty coins, onto the desk. “Our bill is settled and we will be leaving your fine establishment. I do hope you have a good day.” She purrs, holding out her hand. “Their keys.”

Frowning heavily, the man pulls a heavy ring from his pocket and fumbles with it for a moment before thrusting it at the woman with a huff. “They are twenty-two and fifteen,” he tells her, referring to the numbers etched in the keys. “Cannot work the fucking latch with one hand.”

Ellaria plucks the keys from his hand and quickly unlatches it to retrieve the keys that she is looking for. “Pleasure, I’m sure.” She snorts, tossing the rest of the keys down on the desk and turning around to sashay out of the room. “Do have someone look at that hand.” She calls over her shoulder.

******

Cal is in the halls when Ellaria emerges around a corner again, having been sent to Please other guests when he was not desired by the prince last night. “My lady,” he bows her head to her respectfully, having heard the screaming coming from the office just minutes ago. “I…trust everything is well?”

“Everything is marvelous.” Walking up to him, she curls her hand around his neck and pulls him in for a soft kiss. “If you have any belongings, or wish to say goodbye to anyone, do it now.” She tells him, handing him the key to his bracelet. Rather than garish chains, Littlefinger had decorative bracelets on the wrists of the people in his brothel.

“Are we going somewhere?” He asks, rather bewildered. Cal had already become very comfortable with the prince, it’s true, but Littlefinger would never send anyone away for more than an errand. It is not as though he was in the habit of lending out his whores.

“You are free from this place.” Ellaria explains. “You are free to come with the prince, princess and I, or you can leave at your discretion.” She pauses, placing her hand on the man’s arm. “Although the prince would love for you to stay with us. Come to Dorne.”

“Leyth?” She is his only hesitation, and he knows that Ellaria Sand understands. That she would not say such things and offer freedoms lightly. There is a catch. There always is. But a whore to a prince is still better than a whore to Petyr Baelish. All he cares about is that his love will not be left alone in this place.

“The other key is for Leyth.” Ellaria smiles, understanding the deep affection and love the two have for each other. She had not missed the subtle touches that are not shared with their patron for the night. She holds up the other key to offer it to him. “Do you wish to give it to her?”

“She is upstairs. With the princess.” He nods and accepts the two keys as the precious items they are. The only times he’s seen bracelets come off of Littlefinger’s whores they were usually headed for the gravedigger’s cart.

“Cal.” Ellaria stops him with another serious tone. “We are offering – not commanding.” She reminds him. “We will need you to act as servants at the Red Keep, but we do not own you. You own yourself.”

“Will the prince pay us?” He asks quietly. No one here ever saw a single coin of what they earned their employer and certainly were never asked for a single damn thing. It was always commanded. “Shelter us? See we are fed?”

“The prince has already demanded quarters for you in the palace and he is a fair man.” She nods. “You eat the same foods we do, and your coins earned are yours to keep. The Dornish crown pays their servants well.”

“Would…” he hesitates, but Cal has felt more comfortable and cared for as a person by the prince that paid for his company than by his own family. “Questions will keep for later,” he decides. “Let us tell Leyth the good news.”

“Delightful.” Ellaria beams, wrapping her hand around the man’s forearm as if he was a lord escorting her through a garden. She feels like he will come with them if Leyth agrees.

The quiet conversation coming from the prince’s quarters is muffled by the usual sounds from the other rooms, but it stops entirely when the door opens. You have been very careful with what you say and to whom today, meaning that you have ceased speaking altogether anytime a new person has come to the rooms. Seeing Ellaria makes you sigh with audible relief. “Have you been successful?” You ask, hoping that the appearance of Cal beside her means the answer is yes.

Her self satisfied smile is answer enough but she nods. “I have. We are ready to leave as soon as we are packed.”

“Nearly.” With Leyth’s help things have gone quickly. “Very nearly.”

“We will be sorry to see you go.” Leyth admits, looking to the elegant Ellaria fondly. She loves Cal very much, that is true, but she has developed a quick affection for the prince’s paramour in addition.

Ellaria looks to Cal and nods. “Why don’t you tell her?” She asks the former brothel worker. She feels like it would be much appreciated coming from the woman’s lover. Sliding away from his side, she walks over to you and takes your arm, turning to watch.

Cal nods, struggling to find words enough when something so momentous is within reach. Leyth was sold to Littlefinger in her twelfth year and has now lived as many years under his thumb as she had in freedom. “My love,” he murmurs, taking both of Leyth’s hands in his and pressing his forehead to hers gently. “The prince and Ellaria, they have…they have offered us a new path.” Placing her key in the palm of her hand, Cal closes his love’s fingers around the metal and nods when he sees the water rise behind her eyes. “She says we are welcome to follow them to Dorne and that there is room for us in the Red Keep as their servants if we wish it.”

“You would be most welcomed.” Ellaria assures the other woman. “But if you choose to go elsewhere, the prince will give you enough money to settle. As payment for the pleasure of your company over the past days.”

“Servants as in…a lady’s maid?” Leyth looks to you with hope in her eyes. The four of you have always been kind to her and to Cal, and she has begun to learn you over the last few days.

“If you wish it.” That would certainly be helpful to you, at the very least. Leyth is clever and very beautiful, and seems to be quite good at reading people’s needs. “But if you should ever find that it does not suit you, or you dislike it, I promise to release you from it with no malice. You should be free to choose your own path.” We all should, is the end of that thought, but you do not add it. It is best to remain unsaid in a room full of people who have not often had that option.

Cal holds her hand and squeezes it gently. “They offer us more than we can ever hope.” He murmurs softly. “It is a most gracious gift we have been handed.”

“Where you go, I go.” There is no question for her in that. Leyth squeezes Cal’s hands tightly and pushes up on her toes to kiss him softly. Normally it is an act that would see them scolded if not punished. Now, for the first time, they are unafraid.

Ellaria hums, pleased by their apparent agreement and she turns to smile at you. “We will need to dress them in something more appropriate, let us give them a moment and dig through our trunks?” She’s meaning hers and Oberyn’s, guiding you to the other room.

“What did Baelish say?” You move straight back to packing, bringing the things that were bought yesterday in the market over to your trunk to secure their safety. The necklace, books, and other trinkets are precious, of course. But the ring that Oberyn chose for you specifically sits on your finger right where it should. The most precious of them all.

“Baelish has fled the city.” Ellaria murmurs. “Apparently with Lady Sansa, Lord Tyrion’s wife.” She moves to her trunks and kneels down. Just like Raeden will wear Dornish colors, so will Cal and Leyth. “Amber for Leyth.” She murmurs to herself as she pulls out dresses.

“He will have gone home. The Fingers of the Vale hold little appeal for Petyr Baelish, but Lady Sansa is a niece of Lysa Arryn. I would wager my favorite boots that he has taken her there. To safety.” Carefully extracting a length of cloth to use as a wrap over your dress is the last order of business before locking your trunk. “Does Oberyn have more clothing to be bestowed? For Cal?”

“He does.” Ellaria motions towards his trunk. “Open it and find something for him. Will you?”

The freedom to simply explore your husband’s belongings is strange, but worth Ellaria giving you permission, you feel secure enough that he would not be upset. “He will be happy that they are coming with us.” For assistance as much as for pleasure, you are sure of that. “I only hope that things are not as dour at the keep as he predicts they may be.” A packet of clothing in the prince’s trunk looks to be similar - if a bit finer - to what the carriage driver was wearing the few times you have ridden at the prince’s side. “These will do well, I think?”

Ellaria glances over and nods. “Cal will look good in that.” She agrees with an approving smile. “Once we are back in Dorne, they will be free to wear what they wish. But while we are in King’s Landing, Oberyn would want them to wear symbols of his house.”

“He knows which rules to play by.” And which to disregard or flaunt, of course. But that is a part of his charm. “I will learn the rules that are different in Dorne. As quickly as I can.”

“Dorne will not be hard for you to master.” She laughs and shakes her head. “Despite the reputation they like to perpetuate here, we are civilized. And have greater respect for most under our care.”

“Dorne will expect their princess to have a spine.” The most you can do about that right now is shrug. “I seem only to find mine when my mother is being horrible or when someone I care about is endangered.”

“When you have been expected to be a pretty ornament, it is easy to be cowed.” Ellaria reminds you. “Yet when it counts, your spine is stronger than the Wall. You will do well when you realize your full potential.”

“I hope your faith in me is better founded than my own fear.” Faith which makes you bold enough to lean over and place a kiss on Ellaria’s cheek. “Thank you.”

She turns her head and presses her lips to yours firmly. Reaching up and holding your arms to hold the kiss for a long moment before she pulls away to stare into your eyes seriously. “The last thing I ever wish for you is any kind of hurt.”

“I feel the same.” You can promise her that, although you are reasonably certain that of the two of you, you are the only one left dizzy after a shared kiss. “You are a gift I did not realize that I needed.”

A cloud of doubt passes through her eyes but it’s blinked away and she smirks at you. “Of course I am.” She teases with a wink. “Let us see how the lovers are dealing with their change of fortune.”

“We have found you some new things.” You report with a smile when the door to the other room opens. “Symbols of a new life.” There are tears in Leyth’s eyes and she looks towards you and Ellaria with fear and joy in her expression. “There is no reason to cry.” Immediately stepping forward, both of your arms come around Leyth and you hug the younger woman to you in earnest. “I was scared at first, too. But you know the prince will treat you well. And I promise that I will, too.”

“There–” Leyth shakes her head and bites her lip. “There is something that I must confess before I accept your offer.”

“Tell me,” you insist, your hands moving to her arms to clasp her close. “Whatever it is, it cannot be as bad as so many tears.”

“I….cannot have children.” She admits with a sob and shake of her head. “If– the prince wanted to– I could not give him a child. Or anyone a child. Littlefinger made sure of it.”

“He made sure of it?” Your forehead pinches and your eyes narrow a little, trying to understand her meaning. “The prince will not be upset with you for not being able to bear his child. There are many women without that ability through the decree of the gods. But he may be very angry with Lord Baelish if he has hurt you in some way.”

“I was taken to a man when I was first bleeding.” She explains, looking between you and Ellaria. “He– I woke up in pain and was told that I would not bleed again. And I have not since then. Littlefinger appreciated that I would not have to rest the week of my bleeding like others.

“You have not bled since the first time?” That seems rather impossible to you. Or at least you have never heard of it.

“He took her womb.” Ellaria rasps through gritted teeth. Fury is etched into her face as deeply as your own confusion is. “To avoid losing profit.”

Leyth nods, relieved that Ellaria understands what she is saying but she shrinks back from the fury on the other woman’s face. She hates thinking that the beautiful woman would not find her worthy now of saving. “Yes. I– I am sorry. Littlefinger forbade me from speaking of it.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” As horrified – and yes, confused – as Ellaria is angry, you reach for Leyth again instantly. “A terrible thing was done to you by a man who, I am sure, has done the same to countless others. It is despicable but it is certainly nothing for you to be sorry on.” Ellaria advances too, sure steps that have her sweeping the young woman up in her arm as surely as she is putting her other hand on your back. “There is nothing to fear from Oberyn,” she promises, all but coping softly the way a mother might to a frightened child. “There will be children enough in Dorne for you to be surrounded by if you wish it, and if you do not then send them off to their mothers or fathers or their ten thousand Sand siblings. You need not fear us, lover.” The last she promises with a sealed kiss, as tender as could possibly be from a woman who just moments ago looked ready to walk through each of the seven hells.

Leyth’s lips trembles against Ellaria’s, she had been so sure that the prince and his paramour might want to sire a child off of her, the idea had been proposed by several who had come to the brothel. She had no wish to disappoint the one pair she would have wished to do that for. Cal knew, but their love would have never been able to result in a child. Not here. She pulls back and looks towards both you and Ellaria. “I would be honored to be your lady’s maid.” She tells you both quietly. “I can serve you equally.”

“I am not a lady.” Ellaria reminds her, brushing her fingers over Leyth’s cheek.

“You are far more of one than you think.” Though you will never question her role in Oberyn’s life or her sense of self, you can certainly recognize that. “We will be honored to have your assistance, Leyth. Though the things we require your assistance for may differ slightly. And if you ever decide that service is not the life you wish to lead, you have only to tell us.”

Looking over at Cal, she nods. “You have treated us better in the few days we have been together than probably any other time in our lives.” She gushes, reaching up and covering Ellaria’s hand with her own. “The Seven surely sent you.”

“The Red Keep will not be an easy place.” Ellaria warns them. “Oberyn will be strict, but he trusts you both.”

“Of course he must be strict.” She knows that, especially because of the tensions have been rising around the city with the king’s murder. “It cannot be any worse than the brothel with the worst customers.”

“Far less, I should think.” Whatever small comfort you can manage to offer, you’re certainly going to. “Whatever packing you have to do or goodbyes you want to say, go and do them. We cannot be sure when the prince will return and our move to the Red Keep will be swift.”

“Yes my lady.” Leyth beams and bows respectfully before turning and grabbing Cal’s hand to disappear.

“That is one less issue,” you sigh softly. Leyth and Cal seem positively eager for their change in fortunes now that Leyth’s fears have been allayed. “What else is there for us to do here? Only finish packing?” Ellaria knows more of the prince’s belongings than you do and will know of anything is out of place.

“Finish packing and pick out outfits for us to arrive to the Keep.” Ellaria tells you. “He will want to make a statement.”

A statement from Prince Oberyn could be any number of things, but you nod. He had mentioned that there were gowns in his trunk that were meant to be gifts for you. It seems like now would be the time to look for them.

“They will not be as scandalous as you could wear.” She assures you. “However, they are bold dresses.”

“I think anything bold would be scandalous from me,” you half joke, pulling out a gown of fine silk that shines with the same orange as fire. The skirts flutter like leaves on the breeze and the sleeves are no more than glistening gold chains that cling to a cuff to hold their shape. It is nothing like the structured gowns you have worn in the past and would show your body’s natural figure to advantage even while being modestly covered. “Do you have a necklace like the one the prince gave me?” You ask Ellaria, holding the dress up to the mirror in the wall. “The more delicate version of what he wears around his neck?”

“I do.” Ellaria nods. She rarely wears it, as it is meant for the official Martell royals, but he had insisted that she have one after the birth of Elia. “What is your clever mind thinking?”

“That we ought to appear as united as possible.” It is only too bad that there is not also one for Raeden, but perhaps in time. “The three of us would look quite the formidable party if we arrived wearing them together.”

“Of course we will.” She hums happily. “And Raeden will look resplendent in his Dornish colors.”

"He will. That is – he already does." You fluster slightly, as if you feel guilty for being caught not mentioning him quite enough. "I wish we had time to commission a banner for him. For House Stone. But that cannot be done in just one day."

“No, he will need to make sure his banner is something impressive.” Ellaria agrees. “One that he can build a legacy with.”

“I know it is not the name he thought he would make for himself.” Smoothing the dress in your arms, you hesitate for a moment but turn to drape the silk over the nearby bed. “But what he has wanted, more than anything, is to make his family proud. Whether that family will be his parents or this new House, I cannot say. It is only that…I wish for him to have the entire world of happiness. The Seven have surely heard his prayers, and I hope they have heard mine as well.”

“You do understand that he might have to marry?” She broaches the subject carefully. “As a new, emerging house, he would need to have legitimate children.”

“I…am not anxious to think about it. Which is unfair, as he was made to stand by and witness my own marriage.” Being able to admit that to Ellaria is both surprising but also a circumstance that makes you sick to your stomach. “It is surely not a thought for this immediate moment, is it?”

“Of course not.” She smiles and nods, reaching out to pat your hand. “We must get through our challenge of staying in the Red Keep first.”

“Although I am certain the thought will fester now that it has a voice.” You shake your head and step back toward the bed, willing yourself to focus on the task at hand.

“I– apologize.” She murmurs softly. “I should not have spoken on it.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” She, of all people, understands your own distress at knowing your soulmate’s marriage is now inevitable. “After all…whoever the woman will be…is she not to me, exactly who I am to you?”

“Perhaps.” She nods slightly, not giving voice to the thought that had already passed. She could not break your heart that way and still has not come to terms with it herself.

“I should be lucky if I like her even half as much as you seem to like me.” That is, you should think, too much to even dream of. Whoever Raeden ultimately gives his name to — that wonderfully lucky woman — you can see yourself disliking her in principle. Like some pride-driven mad woman who masks her grief with seeming greed.

“I should hope you would.” Ellaria admits quietly and then changes the subject. “Let us get ready for our latest challenge and face it, putting away these issues.”

“Practical and wise.” The smile you offer her this time is genuine. Unstrained and earnest. “Would you like me to help you change?”

“No.” Ellaria quickly shakes her head and her smile turns sultry. “If you help me change, then we will will get too distracted to manage anything else. Since I put a dagger in the hand of Littlefinger’s man, I feel like we should abandon this place with as much haste as we can muster.”

“You—?” That is unexpected news indeed, and you very nearly snap forward to attention. “Yes, I think you are very right. We should be ready to go just as soon as Raeden and Oberyn return.”

Relieved that you believe the potential reason for her denial, she motions towards your room. “Go change and finish packing. I will join you soon.”

**

The air seems thicker around the Red Keep than it did in Flea Bottom despite there being fewer people and less activity. The world stands still here, in a way, though most lives continue as usual even in the wake of the king’s passing. The cloud of grief around the keep seems almost tangible, though. As if it were its own living and breathing entity. When the carriage stops at the steps of the fortress that your party will now call home, the collective inhale you take with Oberyn and Ellaria feels like sailors waiting for their ship to capsize. None of you wants to be here and it is each for your own reasons. At least - mercifully - the hand that helps you out of the carriage is Raeden’s this time. He had insisted on riding ahead of the carriage to keep an eye out for anything unusual. Now he squeezes your hand as you step down onto firm ground and offers you a subtle nod that is a promise: Nothing is going to harm you. Not while he is around.

Raeden nods respectfully, his dark eyes on you for a long moment before he finally withdraws his hand to help Ellaria from the carriage. Oberyn will come out last and the carriage behind you with the luggage, Cal and Leyth is already being unloaded. “My ladies.” Raeden bows as he backs up and then stands tall to place his hand on his sword hilt.

There has not been a time since your very first visit to King's Landing that you have actually enjoyed spending time in the Red Keep, and now you feel your own dread run parallel to the prince's. There are people here you would both prefer to avoid and places you would rather not revisit. While Cal and Leyth spirit your trunks away with footman and the prince's driver takes the carriage away to be stored elsewhere on the grounds, you find yourself grateful that Raeden is at your left while Oberyn is on your right. Ellaria on the prince's other arm makes the four of you a veritable wall of formidability. Or it would, if not for the powder-white specter of Queen Margaery waiting to receive you just inside the walls of the keep.

“Prince and Princess Martell.” She smiles graciously, although she is still adorned in head to toe black and then clasps her hands together as her eyes flutter towards Ellaria. “And esteemed guest.” She doesn’t know Ellaria’s name officially, but she nods respectfully. “Welcome to the Red Keep.”

The situation is...precious. To term it gently. And though Margaery was married to the king and she is being hailed as queen by many, it was abundantly clear to all present that the new couple did not have the opportunity to consummate their vows -- which technically renders the marriage void now that King Joffrey has died. Still, you bow your head in respect. "Ellaria Sand, your Majesty." It is a choice, to acknowledge her as queen, and you make it because you know it will annoy Cersei Lannister which will in turn amuse Oberyn. "And Ser Raeden Stone." Your left hand waves to the man to your other side. "Of House Stone."

“House Stone.” Her brow arches in surprise and her eyes fall down to the newly carved signet ring. Her eyes flicker over to Oberyn and understanding flashes in their depths. “Well Ser Stone, I have a feeling you will be very welcomed at court.” She purrs with a small smile. “It has been a long time since there has been new blood.”

As proud as he is - as the title and the reality of it makes him - Raeden draws up just a mite taller despite knowing how many ill intentions truly lurk within the halls of society. "Thank you, your Majesty," he intones with an appropriately deep bow. If only his father could see him now. Speaking to the queen as a peer. Even with Oberyn between you, you can feel the sheer effort it takes Ellaria not to look over at you. Considering the conversation you so determinedly agreed not to have earlier today, your stomach nearly drops with dread. A fact which you hope does not cause the poised and placid expression on your face to waver. "You are very kind to welcome us, your Majesty. I am sure the day has been most trying for you."

“It is not how I expected to spend my first days as a Baratheon.” She admits before she turns to Prince Oberyn. “The rooms you have requested have been prepared and I will inform the servants that Ser Raeden is amongst you. Oberyn shakes his head, unwilling to let go of either of you. “It will not be necessary.” He tells her. “We have decided not to impress your staff with more work and brought our own servants. Ser Raeden is my hand to see about making sure all I wish to accomplish in King’s Landing is done.” He smirks. “It will be good lessons for setting up his own noble household.”

Never mind that Raeden has always lived more amongst servants than he has any experience in ordering them about, he does not fidget or flinch at your side when royalty speaks directly about him. It will be plenty to wrap his head around later on, out of sight. "Perhaps your Grace would enjoy a walk through the gardens later?" Remembering what Oberyn had told you about fostering a friendship with the queen, you are not about to disappoint him now, and you step forward to offer her your hands. "This time must be so trying for you and you have been so kind to me. Allow me to return the favor."

“It seems as though you have robbed the Vale of the kindest woman amongst them.” Margaery looks as though she’s been saved from a hanging noose and reaches out to clasp your free hand. “Perhaps your– Ellaria, would also like to join us?” While she is not one that normally visits with mistresses, this will upset Cersei and she knows that the woman is very close to the prince. To bestow her kindness would only be looked upon favorably and she needs allies.

Unsure what Ellaria might answer to that, you know better than to accept or deny the invitation on her behalf. "That decision would be entirely up to Ellaria, but I think it might be a marvelous way to lift your spirits."

A silent conversation passes between the prince and his paramour before she turns to the queen. “I cannot comprehend turning down an offer from the queen.” Ellaria proses elegantly. “The Princess and I will rally your spirits in such a desperately sad time.”

"We will certainly do everything we can." You squeeze the queen's hands gently before letting go of them. "Thank you for the kind respect of being here to greet our party, but we will not take more of your valuable time this afternoon." Being seen, being received, and then making yourselves scarce will make you worth talking about. It is a tactic taught to you by your oldest brother. "We will call on you tomorrow morning for our garden walk, if that is convenient for you."

“Perfect.” She nods and smiles before she turns away and tries to walk away with her head held high, but there is a nervous tension that was not there before.

You turn back to your group with an expression of bewilderment and reach to grasp Ellaria's hand as if in apology. It is not as though you could tell the queen 'no'. "I think tomorrow morning will be very eventful for us."

“She is scared.” Ellaria watches the path the queen had skittered away on and turns to you and Oberyn. “She is looking for protection if needed.”

"We will see what we can divine tomorrow?" Rather than the statements of surety you had shared with the queen, with your husband you are more inclined to ask questions. To make sure you are doing things that fall in line with whatever his plans might be.

Oberyn nods and he slides his hand up to both of your cheeks. “Get into her confidence. We will need to know what is happening that isn’t being brought before the small council.”

"I will." You would do practically anything he asked of you but simply had not realized it yet. What you do consciously is nod into his hands as though he has given you the most precious instruction in the world.

"Good girl." It is not meant to be demeaning, just praise. Oberyn's eyes soften towards you and his fingers curl slightly, admiring your willingness to enter the games of intrigue and subterfuge that most nobility insisted on playing. He played it as well, but only when it suited him. Leaning in, his kiss is not demanding, but it is a statement to any who pass through the bailey of the keep.

You let it linger longer than you should, you know that. But the infatuation you have with your husband only seems to grow and he is the first person you have ever been allowed to show affection for in public. In fact, he encourages it. Something which you now take full advantage of and let this kiss last as long as it naturally wishes to before pulling away.

“Go settle into our rooms.” He urges you softly, turning to Ellaria. “I will have a meeting with the small council and don’t know when I will be back.”

Ellaria’s own kiss for Oberyn is deeply passionate, and she nods when she pulls away. “I will be waiting for you, lover.” The small smile on her lips twists in your direction. “But I cannot promise that your bride will not have ensconced herself in the library already.”

“Then we will have to drag her away come time to dine together.” Oberyn chuckles. “I imagine there will be several books laying around.”

Your cheeks burn with the teasing but you grin, and even Raeden chuckles softly. “It would not be the first time she has missed a meal for the desire to continue reading.”

“I wonder if she will be so inclined to read her book if her cunt is being licked.” Oberyn muses.

“Gods, Oberyn!” Despite the curse, and the obvious embarrassment, the smile on your lips is pleased and affectionate. It is as if the days of doubting you could care for him have evaporated into air.

He chuckles and steps back, looking towards Raeden. “We will be back soon.” He promises, “but you will be in the small council meeting with me. As my hand.”

“I have never heard of a prince having his own hand.” Raeden’s eyebrow raises, making a smirk. “We will surely be the most talked of arrivals. Although I gather that was your plan all along.”

“Always make an impression.” Oberyn advises seriously, though his own smirk plays on his lips. “It will keep them guessing.”

“As you say, my lord.” Both men look as if they might end up giggling at any moment when Raeden nods and steps back for the prince to lead the way.

“It is good to see that Raeden has become more comfortable around Oberyn.” Ellaria observes, dropping the ‘your’ from her normal description of the man.

“I think perhaps we are all a little more relaxed than we might have been at first.” Certainly you are, though your gratitude for Ellaria and admiration for her are entirely mixed up together.

“It is a new situation for all of us, some discomfort was to be expected at the beginning.” She links her arm through yours and leans into you. “I know my lover did not disappoint you.”

“I—” Embarrassment burns Your face as you begin to walk together, and you have to scold yourself not to look down at your feet. The prince wants you to make an impression but surely not one of an embarrassed schoolgirl. “I should not be surprised that you heard. I imagine those down the hall did as well…”

“He is good at dealing either pleasure or pain.” She hums in amusement. “You should have seen him in the fighting pits. Bloody and sweaty coming out victorious and then ready to fuck all night.”

“Somehow I have no trouble imagining that.” And yet the idea of the man you have married being in the fighting pits at all now terrifies you so you change the subject immediately - landing on a topic that makes you only mildly less sick. “Raeden prefers lovemaking.”

“He is a sweet lover.” Her eyes cut over to you and she flusters slightly. “I hope that our own interlude did not cause any offense?”

“That would be horrifyingly hypocritical of me.” There will never be precisely a good time to breach the subject, but you clear your throat softly and lower your voice. “It had been discussed— that is, between the prince and myself — that..” Desperate to be discreet, you look around you and lower your voice again to barely murmur to Ellaria. “That I will no longer take my tea in the mornings…”

Eyes widening slightly, Ellaria lights up. “A new babe.” She breathes out, almost dreamily. “The entirety of Dorne would be celebrating their birth. A new prince or princess.”

“Then I hope they are swift in their arrival and possessing wonderful health.” Having the first person you tell be the woman who has already borne four of his children makes you nervous in a way you had not expected. As though there may be some part of the creation of the babe that you do not yet know of. “I am anxious for it, but also excited. At the moment I am not sure which is more dominant.”

“It will be strange and wonderful.” She promises, smiling softly. “Oberyn was a most attentive partner while I was carrying all four of my own Sand Snakes. I have no doubt he will be equally enamored with your changing body.”

"It...does mean that I ought to lie with him often..." Something which does exactly present you with any kind of hardship but it does affect the dynamic of your small group.

“Of course.” She knows that. “But it also means that Raeden shouldn’t spill inside you.” She cautions.

“I know.” Biting your lip as you turn another corner and begin to ascend a flight of stairs with Ellaria, you chance to look over at her and keep your voice low. “There are…other ways to enjoy ourselves. Some of which he is better acquainted with than I.”

Your name, your real name comes off her lips and she pauses as if she is about to tell you something before she shakes her head and chuckles. “All will be well.” She assures you.

“Did something happen?” Ellaria has not called you by your name since the first night you met, and though that was only days ago it still brings you concern to hear it. “Have I said something wrong?”

“Nothing.” She squeezes your arm tighter and hustles you along. “I do not believe you could be more perfect if the Seven had created you for our lives.”

She pulls you along beside her with a smile on your lips and though you go willingly, there is an ache in you that you cannot name. Perhaps it is doubt, more than any other thing, but there is something tinging it that makes your smile falter. Nothing about you is perfect. Especially not for people as wonderful as Raeden, Oberyn, and Ellaria.

______

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[prolix-yuy]

I'm shyly peeking around the corner of your beautiful Bangathon.

Spinning the wheel brought me one of my favorites: SPOONING.

Pedro boy...I can't decide between Ezra, Pero, and Oberyn but think you'd do heavenly things with any of them.

I'm so glad you're using your conference time for filth. I'm so proud of you. <3

Adira! Welcome to the Bangathon! Spooning is such an underrated position, and while I love it for all the boys, Ezra is calling to me...

Pairing: Ezra x F!Reader

Position: Spooning

Word Count: 999 (this pleases me)

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, unprotected PiV sex (don't be a fool, wrap your tool), little bit of oral (f receiving), fingering, biting and drawing blood, rough sex, a moment of consensual somnophilia (though it's a little gray in the beginning).

Notes: Oh my god, I meant for this to be a sweet little thing because your writing is so soft and gentle and then Ezra just went and made it filthy. I am hiding my face in my hands. This is like someone dropping off the ingredients for a birthday cake and I bake a huge anatomical penis instead. Oh boy.

There’s only so much a man can be expected to endure in tight quarters for so many cycles, and you’re pushing him to the edge of sanity.

First it was the showers, too noisy for him not to imagine how the water traced your curves. 

Then it was the heat, stripping you both down to compression shorts, a cropped bra barely covering the sumptuous breasts he wanted to savor.

But now you’re testing the last threads of his resolve, curled on your side slicked with sweat and sleep. The flimsy blanket slipped to pool in the hollow of your back, the gusset of your panties peeking from between your thighs. 

For a moment Ezra contemplates if just the sight would be enough for him to get off, circling his cock inside his boxers and letting a few pumps bring him to attention. But the cotton is damp and sticks to your lips, so close he could trace them with his bionic fingers. Your body calls to him, shifting ever so slightly to arch your back more. 

“Kevva be damned,” he rasps to himself, dropping to his knees and leaning down to nose at your cunt. The first inhale of your sex pulls a groan deep from his chest, rumbling too loud. He’ll wake you at this rate, and his cock can’t decide what he enjoys better, your body sleep-pliant and unaware or your wide eyes staring up at him.

Another inhale, and this time he runs his tongue along your slit, pressing in where your clit should be. A sharp gasp alerts him.

“Forgive me, nightingale, but you have driven me wild for too long to deny a taste,” he bemoans, not an ounce of apology in his rakish voice. 

“Ezra,” you breathe out, and to his delight you grind against his touch, pressing an open kiss between your thighs and nuzzling his nose in.

“A sweeter word has never fallen from your lips,” he husks, dragging his prominent nose up between your cheeks and following the path of your spine, stopping to drop a messy lick here, a ring of teeth there. You squirm under his touch but don’t shy away, keening until his lips finally press to your neck. He fits himself against your back, the thick humidity making your skin slide. 

“Ezra, please, I want…” you plead, and his cock aches at how wrecked you sound from just the simplest touches. He cannot wait to see how much more desperate he can make you. 

“I know what you want, my little nightingale,” he coos, tucking his bionic arm under your head while sliding his fingers along your stomach. Your skin is hot under the tips, catching on little patches of hair and the ridges of scars. You both had stories to share with the maps of your body, and Ezra could finally learn them.

“Want you inside me,” you whisper, and he has to bite his lower lip to stop from taking you right then. 

“Can’t say that so sweetly, I’ll ruin this if you let me,” he teases, cupping your cunt and roughly rubbing. You back into his hips, his jutting cock nestling into your plump ass. Dropping his forehead to your shoulder, he ruts in time with his wandering fingers. Slipping underneath your panties, he pulls a surprised moan from your throat when he dips two thick fingers inside, cursing at the slick tightness.

“Do you know how hard it has been, resisting this sweet nectar?” he growls, curling his fingers to shred against the devastating spot inside you. He wants you clenching and wailing, soaking him and begging for more. He needs your body like air, if only you’d give it to him.

“Then don’t,” you toss back, blood roaring in Ezra’s ears. “Don’t resist.”

Ezra has been a better man of late, but hearing your permission - Kevva, even your desire - has him yanking your wrist into your panties, roughly pulling them to the side.

“Fuck, touch yourself,” he orders, using the wetness coating his fingers to slick his cock. Sliding the head through your folds, your keening moan is all it takes for him to sheath himself in one powerful stroke. 

He can’t wait, as soon as he’s in your blissful heat he’s snapping his hips, every thrust exploding inside his groin. Planting one foot, he cages you in, pressing you tight to his chest, snarling into the shell of your ear. Every punch of his cock into your g-spot tears out another ragged wail, but once he sets the pace you’re pushing back against him just as greedily. 

“My sweet companion, wet and ready for me the moment I want it. How many nights did you wait for me, hoping for this cock inside you?” Ezra covers your hand, fingers sliding together in the mess to stroke your clit. 

“Every…fuck, every night, Ez. Wanted it…every night,” you gasp, and if the hunger inside him wasn’t raging by then it was an inferno at your admission. Sinking his teeth into your shoulder, he yanks you back against his rapid thrusts, white heat blossoming as his jaw clamps hard. Copper suddenly dances on his tongue, a sharp shock that makes him release, but in that moment you cum around his cock, tossing him over the edge to spill inside your pulsing cunt. Both of you gasp and tremble in this embrace, Ezra’s eyes finally opening to see two small beads of blood where his incisors bit in too deep. He laps his tongue over them, followed by a softer kiss than he thought it possible for his cautious heart.

“Nightingale, in my lust I’ve been a little too rough with you,” he murmurs, hissing when you slide off him and turn in his arms. Studying your face, he preens at the quirk of your smile.

“Good, then I can leave my own marks on you next.”

Ezra thanks Kevva for long trips across the galaxy and his undeserved luck.

“Anywhere that delights you.”

END

LJ’s Bangathon 2023

[dyns33]

The little angel

I wanted to do a little mob Oberyn and Ellaria with female reader. Not wonderful at the end, but I did it !

Y/N had not at all imagined what was going to happen to her when she helped an injured young woman.

It had seemed normal to her.

Not to find an injured woman near a trash can, but to help this poor lady. Well, maybe she could have been more suspicious when the woman refused to let Y/N call an ambulance, but there could have been plenty of valid reasons, like not having health insurance, or being afraid that her attacker would found her in the hospital.

So Y/N took the woman home and took care of her wounds, letting her sleep in her bed, helping her take a bath, and making her something to eat.

When she asked her about what had happened, the woman only smiled, stroking her cheek.

"Don't worry about that, sweetheart. I made a mistake, but everything will be fine. You won't have any problems because of me, I promise, and so it's best that you don't know anything. I just have to make a phone call."

"Oh. Of course."

The woman was so beautiful, it was impossible to say no to her.

She gave her phone to the woman who immediately called someone. My love, she had repeated several times, purring apologies and reassuring words, telling them that she was fine, that an adorable angel had helped her, and giving the address.

The woman returned the phone, still smiling.

“Oberyn is coming.”

Y/N noted that it wasn't a very common name, but she didn't comment. The woman said she shouldn't ask what happened or specific information about her life.

When someone knocked on the door, she still hesitated to open it. This Oberyn could be dangerous, if it was really him. It could also be the people who had hurt the woman and who were looking for her.

So she opened timidly, discovering a man. A very handsome man, tall, his shirt slightly open to reveal his muscular torso and tanned skin. With his piercing eyes and his severe demeanor, he scrutinized her for a long time.

"… Yes ?" she asked, trying not to sound nervous.

" I'm here for Ellaria."

"… I don't know any Ellaria."

“She said she was here.”

“You’re… What’s your name ?”

The question made him smile, a radiant and yet fleshy smile, which made her tremble. Y/N didn’t know if she was scared or if it was something else. As if they had known each other forever, he stroked her cheek as the woman had done.

"I see what she meant by adorable angel. As protective as beautiful. Let me see my paramour, dear little sun. I ran all night to find her, I need to see her."

The long kiss they shared told Y/N that Ellaria needed to see him as much as Oberyn did. Paramour he had said, a strange word, like his name.

She was happy that he was there, but the injured woman seemed less happy to learn that he had given her name.

“You gave mine.”

"So she'll let you in. I didn't say anything else, I promised her nothing would happen to her."

"I understand, my love. Forgive me, I couldn't resist, I like saying your name, and the little sun was so radiant, I wanted to hear her say it too."

"I know what you're thinking…" Ellaria sighed with a strange look.

“You thought so too, don’t lie to me.”

Y/N didn’t immediately understand what they had been thinking. It would be several months before she began to understand the two lovers' way of thinking.

With his huge smile, Oberyn turned to take her in his arms and thanked her for saving his precious Ellaria. He would have burned the whole world if anything had happened to her, and it was a miracle she was alive. Y/N was a miracle, their miracle. He really wanted to thank her.

When she said it wasn't necessary, he replied that it was nonsense. She deserved them to show her their gratitude, boldly and intensely. Y/N didn’t immediately understand what he meant by that.

Oberyn continued to smile as he touched her neck, while Ellaria seemed hesitant at first, before slowly getting up from the bed to join them.

They kissed her with as much passion as they had kissed each other. There was nothing else that morning, because Ellaria's injuries didn't allow it, and despite his desire to take Y/N right away, Oberyn preferred to share with his paramour.

So they left, thanking her again with words and kisses, purring against her lips and skin.

It felt like a dream, and Y/N thought it was all over when the door closed. After all, she hadn't done this to be rewarded, they had already shown their gratitude, and above all, even if she knew their first names, she had no way of contacting them, neither number nor address.

She forgot that Ellaria had used her phone to contact Oberyn, and that they knew her address.

First there were the flowers. Gifts. Then the calls, every day, to hear her voice, to know how she was, to whisper compliments, in addition to all the things they wanted to do to her.

When they came back to invite her to dinner, they were very clear. Y/N could say no. They wouldn't force her, even if they had only thought about her since they met and the moment she was in their bed would be one of the most wonderful of their lives.

"I have some questions."

“No, little sun.” Ellaria said kindly. “Don’t ask, believe me.”

Not knowing what they were doing, why someone had attacked the woman, how they had so much money, all these mysteries could have convinced Y/N to refuse their proposal, but as soon as Oberyn purred her name and Ellaria placed a hand on her, she was suddenly unable to think.

As they said, the night spent in their bed was incredible. Y/N thought at first that she would be the only one, but a week passed, several months, and they stayed together.

Yet she still didn't know what they were doing, even though it was obvious that it was dangerous and illegal. There were several strange calls, late appointments, yelling at employees who had done their jobs poorly.

There were also the other lovers.

Y/N didn't really know what to think the first time she discovered Oberyn and Ellaria in the middle of an orgy. It wasn't really a surprise, it was the sort of thing the couple seemed perfectly capable of doing. They hadn't hidden from her that they liked it. What hurt her was that they hadn't invited her.

“You’re not seeing things right.” sighed Ellaria, taking her in her arms.

“I don’t see anything, since you don’t tell me anything.”

"We can't, for your sake. But regarding our love, never doubt it. Know one thing, you are the only one we will never share with anyone, ever."

"Why ?"

"Why ?" Oberyn wondered, joining them under the sheets. "Because you are ours. Our angel, our sun, our princess. No one will touch you unless that's really what you want."

Jealousy was a new concept for the couple, who shared everything, with each other and with others. They didn't want to share their Y/N. Like they said, they would let her have lovers if she wanted, but it would break their hearts. They were even willing to not touch anyone else to make it fair if she asked them to.

Y/N didn’t ask them. She loved this feeling of being special. But she still wondered what exactly they were doing.

After a year, she had some semblance of an answer, because despite their best efforts, some began to understand how special she was to the couple, and while it was a unique feeling, it was also a weakness in this business.

Those who had attacked Ellaria to reach Oberyn Martell therefore thought it was smart to attack Y/N.

Very bad idea. Because if the woman was very important to the one called the prince of Dorne, the Red Viper, and touching her was the announcement of certain death, touching his solar angel was tantamount to asking for a slow and painful one.

While tied to a chair, blindfolded and crying while trying not to think about the blood coming from her wounds, Y/N heard things about the couple. What they were doing. The Martell family, controlled by the eldest brother, Doran. What they sold, bought, the people they controlled, who they killed.

Everything the youngest brother had done when he was only fifteen, messing around with alcohol, drugs, men and women, not respecting the rules.

“If anyone here doesn’t follow the rules, it’s you.”

"Asshole, how did you get in ?!"

"Through the door, after taking care of your friends. You touched my little sun, even though she had nothing to do with our business. You should be ashamed, but don't worry, you will pay. Let me cut off his legs, Ellaria, and then he'll be all yours."

"Thank you, my love. But I would prefer that we bring him back and deal with him later. Our angel first."

"Of course, you're right, as always."

Y/N could have been scared seeing Oberyn and Ellaria. After everything she had heard, what she had suffered. The blood on their hands. But they looked so panicked, so nervous, so happy to have her back, that she decided to wait, throwing herself into their arms as soon as she was untied.

They held her close to them all the way home, kissing and rocking her, repeating that she had been very brave, and that they were sorry for not having protected her as they had promised.

“If you want to leave, we’ll understand.” Oberyn murmured without being able to look at her, looking serious and sad. "I would have liked you to never experience this, that you only had beautiful things in your life. That's what we wanted to offer you, Ellaria and I. But if you don't love us anymore after this night, you can leave. You won't have to worry about anything, you will have money, and no one will ever hurt you again."

"I… I don't want to leave. I don't even know if I want to know who these people were. I've heard enough, I think. Horrible things. But I know you and you're not horrible."

“We can be very dangerous.” sighed Ellaria. "Cruel. Merciless. But not to you, never to you. Tell us you know that."

"I know that. I love you."

"My sun.. My sweet angel." purred the Red Viper, devouring her lips, while Ellaria took her neck.

Y/N never fully knew what the couple was up to, and she didn’t care. She knew Oberyn and Ellaria, they loved each other, and even though everything wasn't normal, it was perfect.

[rere-the-writer]

hiring! Can I request a fic where it is Game Of thrones x the originals? Like Reader is Tywin's daughter from his second marriage and she was set to marry some abuse lord. But she meets Elijah when he and Oberyn are in Kingslanding for Joffrey's wedding. Reader and Elijah fall for one another so Tywin changes his mind and allows Elijah to marry reader instead. Oh can it be where Joffrey never died? So Tyrion is never arrested please and thank you.

I know I rarely do cross over fics but this request just got me. Also I had just started watching 'House of the Dragon' and rereading the books.

Warnings: Fluff, Protective Lannister men, Oberyn scheming, Elijah just being the softest, hints of smut

Pairing: Elijah M. x Velaryon!Lannister!Reader

A/N: I am well aware of how Tywin treats his children in the show but soft!Tywin is my shit. Oh maybe I could a series of this. This will be a two parter

A/N/N: also we support Rhaenyra x Alicent in this household and believe Otto ruined everything

283 Winter, Casterly Rock

Vaesa let out her last scream as she pushed, then the sounds of a baby's cry filled the halls of Casterly Rock. Tywin Lannister, not caring that a Maester and mid-wives tried stopping him from entering the room.

There Vaesa sat rocking you in her arms, you were healthy with soft bronze skin. And a head of sliver blonde curls with jade colored. A girl of Velaryon and Lannister blood, Vaesa knew just what your life was going to be. Her bloodline could be traced back to Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys Velaryon.

"I apologize, my husband...I gave you a girl." Vaesa tells Tywin as he moved closer taking you into his arms. You held most of house Velaryon features due to Vaesa's pure Velaryon blood.

"It is fine wife. She is perfect." Tywin says kissing your forehead when you yawned. Vaesa smiled seeing her husband soften holding you. Little did you know you were going to be the most protected girl in the Seven Kingdoms.

287 Summer, Casterly Rock

Vaesa held your hand walking down to the waters where a huge dragon lay, Rovas, the last known dragon and your mother his rider. Rovas moved his head hearing your mother softly call out to him and you, ever so much the adventurer, tried to run up to the lazy dragon.

"Go on my little lion." Vaesa says knowing Tywin was watching closely on top of the stone steps. Tywin was at first against you meeting Rovas but your mother reassured your father that the old dragon would be gentle.

You giggled feeling Rovas press his snout against your little body, he let out a purr when you patted his snout. Vaesa turned to her husband with a smirk on her face when she heard you call for them both.

"Mama! Papa! Look!" You squealed getting your parents attention, seeing you on top of Rovas's head. The dragon just lay there not caring there was a five year old climbing on him.

"I only turned my back for a second." Vaesa said when Tywin moved standing next to her. Both watched Lannister guards nervously moved towards the dragon to get you down.

"It seems she is more Velaryon than Lannister." Tywin joked making Vaesa laugh. Your parents watched you climb down off of Rovas who tilted his head making easier for you.

"Soon Rovas would be hers." Vaesa tells her husband when you came running up. You begged your father to pick you up and you three went in for lunch.

301 Summer, Kingslanding

You had grown into a beautiful young woman which your mother joked that it must be your Velaryon blood. You stood by Rovas looking out at the waters feeling the old dragon shift his head to nuzzle your side.

The war was over and you being 18, Tywin was looking for a Lord to wed you. Rovas purred feeling your stress and the dragon wanted nothing more than to comfort you. You didn't want to marry knowing your husband wouldn't allow you to keep Rovas.

"I knew you would be out here." Tyrion says walking down to join you seeing how your guard stayed up on the steps. Tyrion shook his head knowing both Jamie and Tywin would be angry that the guard didn't stay close to you.

"Father says I'll be married soon." You tell your older brother still looking out at the sea.

"You wish to not marry sister? You won't have to, your mother will birth our sibling soon." Tyrion says watching you sigh and lay on Rovas's snout.

"If is a boy, I won't have to but if it is a girl." You mumbled before squeaking when Rovas raised his head making you stand.

"Lady Y/N, the Lord Hand wishes to speak to you." A handmaid tells you making you frown and nodded following after her. Tyrion sighed and patted Rovas who huffed wanting to fly you out of Kingslanding.

---

The day of Joffrey's and Margaery's wedding was celebrated by all. Mean while you were stuck listening to your betrothed list your duties as his wife. Lord James Whitehill was suggested to your father by Cersei. While your brothers hated the Lord having done some digging.

"I hope you only birth me sons. Daughters will not be allowed also I don't want you to have your dragon." Lord Whitehill tells you well more like demanded.

"Exuse me, Lord Whitehill but I have others to greet." You tell the Lord leaving before you hit him. Vaesa was sitting Jamie and both was glaring at your betrothed.

"Princess." You brighten up hearing Oberyn and turned around smiling. You stopped see the Lord next to Oberyn, your heart skipped a beat.

"Prince Oberyn, I told you I am no Princess." You tell the Prince who just smirked at you putting an arm around you.

"Being the daughter of Velaryon Lady should make you one." Oberyn teased you noticing how you looked at the Lord.

"Who is your friend?" You asked Oberyn making the Prince smile.

"This is Lord Elijah Mikaelson, the Noble stag of the North. Lord Elijah, this is Lady Y/N." Oberyn says then moved away to leave you two to talk. Oberyn saw how Tywin watched you and Elijah right away.

"Lady Y/N, may I have this dance?" Elijah asked you noticing the flush that came on your face. You shyly nodded placing your smaller hand in Elijah's much larger hand.

"Who is that with our sister, Tyrion?" Jamie whispered to his younger brother not wanting Cersei to hear him.

"That would be the Lord Elijah of the North. If I remember right his family stayed out of the war." Tyrion says watching you giggle at Elijah's jokes as you both danced. Jamie was surprised before sitting next to Tyrion.

"What else do you know?" Jamie asked watching you and Elijah getting a smirk from his brother.

"They say the House of Mikaelson once rode with the House of Dragon. They are old blood and members of the family rarely leaves the North."

"So better than Lord Whitehill?" Jamie asked looking at your betrothed not liking the dark glare on his face. While Tywin sat rethinking your marriage proposal to Lord Whitehill.

"Very." Tyrion says noticing their sister's jealous glare.

"Shame you are betrothed Lady Y/N." Elijah says twirling you and you smiled up at the Lord.

"It is not set in stone my Lord. I just haven't gotten other offers." You tell Elijah getting a coy smile from him.

"Then may I add my proposal?" Elijah asked you kissing your hands making you flush nodding.

---

"He is so attentive of her. Agree sister?" Tyrion says joining Cersei with Jamie seeing Elijah tucking a rose behind your ear.

Kingslanding was gossiping how you were set to marry Lord Elijah. Tywin finding him a better match for you since a marriage between you and Elijah would benefit the Lannisters. Cersei was seething watching you walking with Elijah in the gardens.

"Yes, shame father ended her proposal with Lord Whitehill." Cersei tells her brothers eyes darken when you shyly kissed Elijah's cheek.

"Well good thing he did. I heard some unfavorable things about the Lord." Jamie says seeing you lead Elijah down to the beach.

Elijah was surprised that you wanted him to meet your dragon. He still had to thank Oberyn for introducing you both and also talking the Lord up to the Lord Hand. Rovas raised his head seeing you.

"Rovas! Meet my beloved!" You tell the dragon as Elijah flet his heart burst at your words. You gently pulled Elijah closer and the dragon stared at the Lord then lay his head back down.

"He is quite the dragon." Elijah says placing a hand on Rovas while dragon watched you lean back against Elijah's chest.

"He trusts you. Rovas didn't allow Lord Whitehill near me when I had them meet." You tell Elijah smiling knowing Rovas was very protective of you.

"I should make sure he all he needs up North." Elijah tells you kissing your hand eyes twinkling seeing how you brighten.

---

Vaesa stood next to her husband getting teary eyed as Elijah kissed you making you his wife. Vaesa was happy you were marrying an honorable man unlike Lord Whitehill.

Of course the Lord tried to say he took your maidenhead after a drunken night. Tywin nearly ran a sword though Lord Whitehill for the lie if Jamie and Tyrion hadn't stopped their father.

The feast was lovely and you were enjoying the attention Elijah was giving you that was until Joffrey ruined it. The boy King came walking up to your table with Lord Whitehill.

"Time for the bedding ceremony! Now dear Lady aunt, I hope y........" Joffrey was cut off when Elijah placed his sword on the table eyes dark.

"Touch my wife and men will lose their hands." Elijah said coldly and Tywin stood up.

"Maybe there is to be no bedding ceremony. We should allow the new couple to retire." Tywin says as you took Elijah's hand taking him to your wedding chambers.

---

You woke feeling arms tighten around your waist and smiled remembering what happen. You had consummated your marriage to your new husband. Elijah hummed enjoying the feeling you kiss his face.

"Good morning my beloved wife." Elijah sounded sleepy and his voice sounding husky. Elijah pressed more kisses on your bare skin and touching what ever he could reach.

Morning beloved." You say rolling over kissing Elijah. You giggled when Elijah rolled you both over trapping you under him. Elijah nuzzle your neck pressing closer to you.

"Shall revist last night?" Elijah teased you making you flush wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Yes...my Lord husband." You said shyly pulling Elijah closer as you both indeed revist last night.

[ruinedbylanadelrey]

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[grogusmum]

MAY: Yes, You May (part one)

A Beltane Story

OBERYN MARTELL X f!READER

W/C: 800ish

SUMMARY: You meet a golden robed stranger at the maypole on Beltane. Part 2 will be the smut portion of our story, if you are so inclined.

WARNINGS: None to speak of unless you feel Oberyn needs his own. As always, if you see something, say something. Please let me know in my DMs, and I'll add it.

A/N: Here is the May installment of The Wheel of the Year, my theme for @yearofcreation2023 Organized by the effervescent @oonajaeadira and @writeforfandoms.

Obviously, I had hoped it would be ready for Beltane itself. Many apologies for that, I hope you enjoy it, belated as it is. The POV flips toward the end.

The nine sacred trees Rowan - the wizard's tree; Briar - burn him that is so keen and green; Oak - fiercest heat giver of all timber; Alder - very battle-witch of all woods; Holly - burn it green, burn it dry; Elder - him that furnishes horses to the armies of the Sidhe burn; Birch - burn up most sure the stalks that bear the constant pads; Aspen - burn, be it late or early; and the Yew which is singled out as being sacred to the feast.

Song of Forest Trees

Beltane Bannock Recipe

You see the ribbons flitting on one of the year's first mild breeze before hearing the music, as you make your way into the village proper.

Bathed in oils and dried petals, dressed in your best kirtle and newly sewn shift, beribboned hair with flowers of bluebell, king’s cup, and the little stars of wood anemone wreathing your head- you look forward to the festivities. Humming as you go, with the Beltane Bannock fresh from the fire in your wicker hamper. It warms your side as you enter the common. A tree stripped of branch and twig but for the very top where it was bedecked in flowers and the aforementioned ribbons of red and white stands at the center. Merrymakers call to one another, and young men with flower-bedecked branches make their way to adorn them upon the doors of their lady-loves. You feel a pang, but try to shake the feeling, calling to friends in greeting.

As the festivities ramp up, you join the maypole dance, you bow to your left then to your right, but are brought up short. A dark-haired man you've never seen bows to you with a smile like a cat that got the cream, your face warms under his intense gaze. You begin the dance, and your partner - the stranger dressed in gold, while looking high born and perhaps from a faraway place, dances like he was raised right in the village, making you more and more curious. Then you break from him to weave the ribbons, above and below, you smile and laugh with your family and friends, but every time you reach him his eyes lock with yours. You decide he probably does this with all the women, while the dance is still slow you notice he looks appreciatively at both women and men.

Then music speeds up and the spectators clap in time, and the dance keeps pace and colors blur, faces pass yours, smiling, whooping, alight with the energy of the day. When the dance finally ends you are glowing and breathless from the joy of the dance. You turn again to bow, and the stranger takes your hand and kisses it with a deep bow, his eyes on yours, he too is aglow, his quickened breath fanning over your hand. You can't help but imagine it on your neck or more discreet places. The newcomer smirks as though he is reading your thoughts. In attempt to stave the prickle of embarrassment you bow and make to depart quickly. He let's you go but not before pulling you in close, and that breath is on your neck just as you imagined, he smells incredible of spice and something you don't know, it's bright and fresh.

"I hope to see you later this night, I am thinking our dance is not quite done."

His voice fit him perfectly, causing you to shiver. It's smooth; his words dripping off his tongue like honey.

After the handfasting and feast, the fires are lit with the wood of the nine sacred trees, and the livestock are brought to walk between the two bonfires. You know folk will begin to pair up. Perhaps it is time to slip away. You begin to back out of the firelight and right into someone, solid and broad. You stumble, and he catches you-

“You will not be jumping over the fire?” He still has you around the waist, loosely, not to cage you without choice, but comfortably like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“I-” you stutter, “ I-

He is handsome, beautiful even. You knew this from the dance- but in his arms, the firelight flickering over his features, it is overwhelming. His aquiline nose, jaw sharp as a knife, the column of his neck long and his dark eyes now softer, attentive and his pillowed lips with a natural pout, all breathtaking, a laugh plays at the corners and then the sun comes out at dusk - he smiles.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“No, I mean, yes… she stiffles a laugh. “I was not planning to, no. One must choose wisely in such a small village. I have no beau, and what is understood on Beltane night can be sorely mistaken all the rest of the year.”

Oberyn’s smile widens-

“Yet those fields will not bless themselves.”

At this, she laughs openly, and Oberyn’s interest becomes a need. Oh, she is beautiful, soft, her eyes sparkling with mirth as they did during the dance and her mouth - how he wants to taste it. When her laughter subsides, the sultry look that replaces it lets him know they are on the same page.

“Well, that won't do, will it. What do I call you, good sir?”

“I am Oberyn… of Dorne”, The Prince of Dorne said, deciding not to include his station.

“Well, Oberyn of Dorne, you dance like a Killarian,” she says after introducing herself.

May I join you?"

“Yes you may. Come, let us to the fires.”

💚THANK YOU FOR READING💚REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE MUCH APPRECIATED💚

If you would like to read more of my Oberyn fics or any of my writing, you can find my masterlist here and if you care to be tagged for future fics follow this link to my handy dandy taglist form.

[something-tofightfor]

Aphelion - 10

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, weapons, mentions of unethical medical practices, vampirism, the Lannisters are assholes. 

Word Count: 14,962

Summary: Tyrion Lannister is offering help, but why?  If he can, in fact give you and your friends a much needed advantage, are you going to be able to make the most of it? 

The more you see of Oberyn and his family in action, the more you believe that the answer is yes. 

A/N: Sorry about the delay, friends! A literal year later, and we’re back with a supersized chapter both in terms of word count and content. 

@the-blind-assassin-12​ and I apologize for the delay with this chapter, but we’re back on track now - and already working on the next part. Thank you for sticking around and for reading and sending in asks and comments about this group; we both love them very, very much. 

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!

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“Tyrion Lannister, at your service.” 

Mouth agape in shock, you hurried to shut it as the man before you rose from his low bow. Seven hells and holy shit. That’s…  Wide-eyed and stunned despite what Oberyn had told you about the Lannisters and their ability to cheat mortality, you stared at the man whose portrait you walked past every morning on your way into the office at Golden Lion. 

But that was painted hundreds of years ago. He looks… You blinked, an unnatural chill moving down your spine at your next thought. No. He doesn’t just look the same. 

The roguish curls. The color of his eyes. The scar that sliced diagonally across his face. It was as though the man had hopped down from the ornate frame that hung outside the ninth floor conference room and was now standing in front of you.

He is the same. The exact same. 

Before you could ask anyone to explain how it was possible though, Tyrion was speaking again. “Prince Oberyn Martell, Ellaria Sand, Toban Dayne.” He nodded in greeting at each of them. “It is a pleasure to see you all again. You look well. I can’t believe it’s been an age.” He used one hand to gesture towards the woman standing next to him as he went on. “And of course now I’ve met Tyene. But -” He cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowing as they flicked from where Oberyn’s hand was linked with yours and up to your face before giving you a polite smile. “I’ve not yet had the privilege of making your acquaintance.”

That’s for sure. “I’m… My name is -” You cleared your throat and introduced yourself to the man. “I’m just -”

“She is with me, Lord Tyrion.” Oberyn’s grip tightened as he squeezed your hand, his tone not quite threatening but definitely serious. When you glanced up at him you saw the same was true about the look in his eyes, their dark depths glinting like the edge of a sharpened blade. Oh.  “And she is under my protection.” 

“Oberyn.” Ellaria’s voice came from just behind where the two of you were standing, one hand rising to his shoulder in a move of gentle de-escalation. Tilting his chin down just enough, you saw him watch as her fingers dug into his bicep with light pressure.  “Do not forget that Tyene asked him to come here. He is a guest.” Her grip loosened and she leaned forward to press a kiss to the back of his shoulder. “There is no need for aggression, my love.”  When she dropped her hand to her side and stepped away, Oberyn shifted his eyes back to the smaller man.

“I can assure you that you will not need to protect her - or anyone else here - from me.” He brought both hands to his chest and then opened his palms to the ceiling with a shrug. “We all want the same thing, after all.” As he’d done with everyone else, Tyrion nodded in your direction then. “It is very nice to meet you.” 

“Same to you,” you managed, still slightly awed and confused by his existence. Because it doesn’t… You cut your own thoughts short with the interjection of another one. 

You were only standing where you were because an undead golem creature controlled by one of ancient Westeros’ most powerful families - who were being preserved through some form of blood magic - attacked you in an alleyway before you were rescued by a man dressed in an Oberyn Martell costume that turned out not to be a costume at all, nor was the man just a man but the Prince of Dorne himself and one of the Others, whom you had until that point considered merely part of the pantheon of folklore and children’s stories you’d grown up hearing. 

None of it made any sense. But it’s what’s happening anyway.

“Well, now that we all know one another,” Tyene chimed in, excitement in her voice. “Let’s get to the fun part.” 

“Ah, yes.” Tyrion clapped his palms together, a grin curving up the edges of his mouth. “The fun part.” 

What the hell does that mean? 

You didn’t have to wait long to find out. A few minutes later you were seated at the dining room table next to Oberyn, Toban and Ellaria sitting across from you and Tyrion at the head. This is insane. You were reminded briefly of the silly hypothetical questions that you and Nora would sometimes ask each other for shits and giggles. Those questions included things like, “If you could have dinner with any five people living or not, who would it be and why?” She would never fucking believe this, even if I could tell her. 

What started as a silly thought smacked you in the face as you realized that you might never get to tell your friend about any of it - and that she might never get to meet Oberyn. Another layer of realization peeled away and you tried not to think about the very real possibility that you might never even see her again. 

No. Your eyes closed, the lids creasing from how tightly you squeezed them shut. No.You opened your eyes again, making a decision. I will see you again, Nora, and we’ll go get burgers from that place by your office, and - 

Your plans for a reunion were interrupted by the sound of Oberyn’s voice, just above a whisper, speaking your name. Hmm? Blinking, you turned to find him watching you, a look of cautious concern on his face. Oh, shit, I need to - “Are you alright?” Beneath the table your hand was still held securely in his, his thumb sweeping lightly over your knuckles. “You seem…” His eyes narrowed as he searched for the right word, but you didn’t give him the chance to find it. 

I need to focus on what’s happening here. Now. Wrinkling your nose, you gave a small shake of your head and shifted your joined hands from your lap to his, resting them on his thigh. “I’m fine, Oberyn. Just -” You tilted your head inconspicuously towards Tyrion, the blond man engaged in amicable small-talk with Toban. “It’s a lot to take in.” 

That wasn’t a lie. Sitting down with Tyrion Lannister and hatching a plan to dispatch the rest of his family was a lot to take in. It wasn’t the entire truth, either, but you knew that it wasn’t the time to discuss the things that had just crept into your thoughts. Later. We can talk about that later. 

His lips parted, the tip of his tongue slipping out to dampen them. Before he could say anything else though, Tyene breezed into the room carrying a plastic tray of sliced fruit, half of the torn price sticker still stuck to the edge. What is she… Oh. Your eyes widened in recognition of the ancient Westerosi custom. Despite the things currently weighing on your mind, you let out a small huff of laughter. I mean, yeah. I guess that counts. 

“Okay.” Setting it down next to Ellaria, she pushed it with just enough force so that it slid the length of the table to stop in front of Tyrion. “We served you food and gave you shelter.” She pointed to the ceiling and swirled her finger around as the man she was speaking to reached for a bright yellow slice of mango, an amused quirk to his lips. “And we’re not the fucking Freys, so -” 

Nearly choking on the mouthful of fruit he’d bitten into in an attempt to mask a snort, Tyrion managed to swallow. A small smirk drew its way up the side of his face as he spoke, keeping his eyes on Tyene. “While I do appreciate the gesture - and the refreshments - I already trust everyone present with my life.” One eyebrow jumped as he cocked his head to the side and blindly plucked a grape from the platter, popping it into his mouth. “And that is more than I can say about…well, anyone else that I know.” 

Tyene shot back a smirk of her own, pulling out the chair next to Ellaria and dropping into it in one fluid motion. “Still,” she revealed a small cluster of grapes she must have taken from the tray before sending it in the opposite direction. Lifting it to her mouth, she stopped short of taking a bite to finish speaking. “Can’t hurt. Traditions and shit, right?” At that, she closed her teeth around one plump purple grape and plucked it from the stem. 

“I couldn’t have said it better myself.” 

“Perhaps what you could say better, Lord Tyrion-” Oberyn reached forward and grabbed a handful of berries from the tray, popping one in his mouth as he continued. “Is exactly what it is that you are here to discuss.”  

“Yes,” Ellaria agreed. “We are all very eager to hear what you have to say.” She raised one eyebrow and turned in Tyene’s direction. “And why Tyene asked you to come here to say it.”

You knew that Ellaria trusted Tyene completely, so she wasn’t openly questioning her judgment in bringing the man - a Lannister, and by all rights and titles a sworn enemy of the Others - into their safehouse. She’s just not sure how much trust to put in him. Glancing sideways at Oberyn, you saw the same seemed to be true for him. Even though he admitted that Tyrion wasn’t like the rest of them… he’s… 

You watched him pop another berry between his teeth, his eyes never leaving the guest of the evening. He’s hesitant to call him an ally. Considering everything he’d gone through at the hands of Tyrion’s family, though, you couldn’t blame him. Beneath the table, where your hand was still clasped in his, you stroked your thumb over his skin. 

Tyrion chuckled. “Direct and to the point as ever, I see.” He sighed. “Alright, then, no need to draw it out.” Sitting up straighter, he cleared his throat and began. “As you know, there are, and always have been, several people who would love nothing more than to see my dear siblings and our illustrious father relieved of their heads.” He drew one finger in a line across his throat, an exaggerated grimace pulling his mouth down and to the side as he sucked air through his teeth. Clicking his tongue, he cocked his head to one side before swinging it back and forth in a small shake.  “And I’m sure that all of them are well within their rights to want them dead.” 

Out of the corner of your eye you caught Tyene’s small nod, one of her eyebrows raised in an amused arch as she smirked at Tyrion. She had one knee bent and propped against the armrest of her chair, that foot perched in her lap. She seems to agree with him. From what you knew about Cersei, Jaime and Tywin - the originals, anyway - you didn’t doubt it to be true. Especially if they’re just as awful now as they were back then. 

You had studied the Great Wars of Westeros as part of your job. And you knew that no matter how well hidden the true perpetrators and instigators had been, many of the major shifts in power had all boiled down to Lannister machinations. Betrayals, assassinations, bribes and broken promises were par for the course when it came to that family’s lineage. 

When it was all said and done, the number of lives destroyed or cut short by the cruelty and greed of one house numbered in the millions. And if they’re still at it… There was no telling how many more people - humans and Others alike - had suffered or died because of them. It made your stomach twist to consider. They have to be stopped. 

You shifted your eyes from Tyene to Ellaria, trying to gauge what she was thinking now that Tyrion had started to reveal his motives. Though she was sitting back in her chair with her elbows and forearms crossed and resting flat against the table in a relaxed position, the expression she wore was anything but neutral. She looks… Her dark eyes were narrowed in a glare - not at the man who was speaking, but at the words he was saying, and her upper lip twitched into something close to a snarl. The woman looked as frightening as you first feared her to be. Like she’s ready to kill someone. 

But then, almost before that thought finished crossing your mind, Toban’s hand slid down from the back of the chair she sat in to land on her shoulder, the contact wordlessly soothing her. His large palm skated down to her bicep, and if you weren’t looking, you would have missed the small sigh that she released, her eyes closing for half a second. When they opened again they were still sharply focused on Tyrion, but there wasn’t as much unbridled hatred burning in them. 

Oh, that’s interesting. You wondered if Toban had some kind of gift or if his ability to so easily calm Ellaria had to do with the strength of the bond between them. Making a mental note to add that to the growing list of new things that you’d need to ask Oberyn the next time the two of you were alone together, you turned in his direction at the sound of his voice. 

“Yes,” he responded, laying his left arm on the table and leaning slightly over it, his right hand still wrapped around yours under the wooden ledge. His brow was slightly wrinkled in thought, chin inclined so that he could look at a downward angle through the fringe of his dark lashes at Tyrion. Is this what he looked like back then, when he had to represent the Martells in a royal capacity?

There was none of Tyene’s smug confidence, Toban’s ease or Ellaria’s blind rage in Oberyn’s expression, and you realized that was because he was very seriously weighing everything that the man seated across from him was saying. He trusts him. At least enough to hear him out. 

“Yet they are still alive.” The hand on the table curled into a fist and he knocked his knuckles once against the sleek surface. “Still drawing breath, still able to return, and still in control of their fucking Mountain.” He shook his head. “H-” 

“They are indeed.” Tyrion’s tone was blunt and hard. “But that is only because no one has ever had more cause to want them dead, nor more of a chance at making that happen than the people sitting in this room. Myself included.” He released a breath before scrubbing a hand over his hair. “And I know how to kill them. For good.”  

Silence fell over the room then as everyone considered Tyrion’s words. They were true, and you knew it. Your eyes moved slowly around the space, landing briefly on each person at the table. 

Ellaria had made enemies of the Lannisters thousands of years ago when she first denied them the gift of eternal life, and had been fighting them off ever since. For the first time since she came through the door of the other apartment, you noticed something that looked like exhaustion flicker across her features. You tried and failed to quantify the toll it would take on someone - immortal or not - to endure centuries of contention, of always waiting for and trying to anticipate Tywin or Cersei’s next move. What Tyrion was suggesting would finally free her of that. 

Your eyes traveled to Toban next. He had been thrust into the feud from the start, simply because Ellaria had chosen him over a Lannister to be her first. From the moment his second life began, he’d been at risk of attack, constantly looking over his shoulder and Ellaria’s. Maybe that’s why he seems so calm about it all now. Because it’s all he knows. That thought saddened you. But if Tyrion’s plan was successful, Toban might finally get the chance to know peace. 

Blinking, your gaze shifted to Tyene. Though she was actually hundreds of years old, her young features were forever frozen in time. For once, she had discarded the tough persona and you saw something in her eyes that looked like innocence. She, like Toban, had inherited this blood feud from Ellaria. But by the time she became an Other, Oberyn had also been steeped in it for centuries, so unlike Toban, Tyene had had to watch both of them suffer along with being hurt by it herself. In a way, her very creation was a product of it. She deserved a chance to get out from under that cloud, and Tyrion was presenting the best chance she’d been given yet. 

Unshed tears laced with anger and ache and even hope stung the corners of your eyes as they finally landed on Oberyn. For him the feud had begun while he was still human. He’s known the hurt in both lives. It began before he’d even had an opportunity to mourn the loss of his sister, his niece, and his nephew. 

Though he’d told you a little about what things were like for him once he was changed, and you knew that he’d enjoyed plenty in his second life, you also knew that every joy he experienced was limited, dulled even if only slightly by the fact that until this feud was done, he would never truly be able to have what he desired most. 

You swallowed and drew in a breath that shook on the way out. If Tyrion was right and the Lannisters could be killed once and for all, then he might finally not have have his revenge, not only get justice for Elia and her children - but at the same time, create the opportunity to live the rest of his life more fully than he’d ever allowed himself to before. 

And that’s what I want for him, too. It’s what I want for all of them. 

When the silence was finally broken, you were surprised to hear Toban speak up first. “Powerful talk, Lord Tyrion.” His voice had a quality that made it sound as though he was always smiling, even when he wasn’t. “But if you know how to kill them, then why haven’t you done so?” Lifting one hand, he gestured towards Oberyn but kept his focus on the man he was speaking to. “Why did you wait until they almost killed one of us?” 

There was something almost protective in the way that Toban asked that question, like an older brother looking out for his younger sibling. Though you’d been somewhat unsure of what to make of him at first, it was clear that he cared about Oberyn, and not only because of how important he was to Ellaria.  And that makes Oberyn’s reaction so much more interesting.

“It isn’t talk,” Tyrion countered. “But it is powerful.” He interlaced his fingers, placing his joined hands on the tabletop. “Unlike my father who has always measured power in coin, or my sister who counts it in cruelty, or even my brother with all of his ridiculous bravado, I have always known that true power lies elsewhere entirely.” 

“Is that so?” Oberyn posed the question with a contemplative tilt of his head. Tyrion raised a brow and lowered his chin. “And where is it that you have found power, then?” 

Leaning forward, the other man grinned. “In knowing things, Prince Oberyn. And in knowing the right people.” He brought his fingertips to his chest. “I know things.” Tyrion circled his hands outward to the group gathered around the table, making sure to make brief eye contact with everyone - including you. “And you are the right people to share those things with.” 

“Now is not the time to play coy with us, Lannister.” Ellaria’s tone was serious, but not harsh. “If you have something to say, speak.” 

Tyene clicked her tongue and reached to snatch another piece of pineapple from the tray. “She’s right, Tyrion. Enough with the opening statements, this isn’t an HBO courtroom drama.” Despite the tension that hummed around the table, you had to hold back a snort of laughter. She took a bite of the fruit she held, chewing through her next words before popping the rest of the bright yellow chunk into her mouth. “Tell them what you told me.” Shooting her eyes over to meet first with Ellaria’s, and then with Oberyn’s, she swallowed the bite she took. “Trust me, it’s worth it.” 

“It is.” Tyrion insisted, nodding in Tyene’s direction. “But I do understand the urgency,” he added, giving Ellaria a smile that did nothing to change the expression she wore. I get it though. You stared at the blond man. I want to know what the hell he’s got, too. Because if it’s not… Pressing your lips together, you took a deep breath in through your nose. If whatever he’s about to say doesn’t give them an edge then it’s a waste of time, and time is something we don’t have. 

Without letting another second tick by, Tyrion cleared his throat and finally played his card. “You know very well by now that my family has devised a way to cheat death. When you denied their various attempts to get you to change them, make them immortal like you, Cersei and my father took it upon themselves to find the next best thing.” He cringed, top lip pulling up slightly before he continued. “They turned to a man named Qyburn, a reject from the Citadel who was stripped of his Maester chain for conducting…  immoral experiments on living subjects.” 

Your stomach turned at the thought of what those experiments might entail if they were deemed immoral even by ancient standards. Images of dank dungeons, bodies and parts of bodies on stone slabs, iron tongs, rusted forceps, and substances in vials and bottles filled your mind, along with the pain-filled moans and shrieks of those being poked and prodded and tortured - and you forced them away. I don’t want to know. 

Sparing you any details that weren’t directly related to stopping his family from continuing their reign of terror, Tyrion went on. “Primitive and uncivilized as they were, Qyburn’s methods did yield results, though. He is the one responsible for resurrecting Gregor Clegane from almost certain death during a battle. When that was a success, Cersei immediately tasked him with modifying the process used with the Mountain so that the rest of us could join him in his ability to reawaken.”

“So it’s some kind of dark magic?” Toban asked. “Reanimation?” 

You recalled the monster in the alleyway, a shiver passing down your spine as his blood red eyes blinked back at you in your memory. You tried not to think of how many times that thing had been killed and brought back. Or how many people he’s killed. For the hundredth time since the night of the Golden Lion Halloween party, your thoughts turned to how close you’d come to having your skull caved in by the brute’s giant fists. Without realizing it, you were holding your breath, your grip on Oberyn’s hand tightening until your skin strained at your knuckles. 

He realized it right away though, immediately turning to bring his lips close to your ear, whispering into it. “He won’t touch you again.” You felt the tip of his nose brush the shell of your ear before he left a quick kiss there. “I will keep you safe.” 

You closed your eyes and let out a sigh, nodding. I know you will, Oberyn. 

“Indeed.” Tyrion’s answer to Toban’s question made your eyes snap back open. “Blood magic, to be exact, Ser Dayne.” What? “You could say that it was… inspired by the supernatural properties that your blood carries, actually. Qyburn was able to isolate and synthesize the aspect of the Others’ blood that allows for reparative regeneration. In the case of Gregor, he used it to restore the body. The Mountain can take enough damage to kill a man, even one of his size. But given enough time and rest, he will always come back … and be just as he was before.”

“And what about the rest of them?” The softness he’d just offered you was gone from his voice as Oberyn addressed what Tyrion had revealed. “In the case of Cersei? Of Tywin?” He pursed his lips into a casual frown that deepened the divot between his brows. “You?” 

Flinching, the man swallowed. He knows they’re not going to like whatever he’s about to say. “For the rest of us, he… ah…” Tyrion’s palms came together and his scarred brow furrowed. “He applied the synthetic to the genetic makeup of our blood, to keep it from degrading over time so that it can be… um -” His nose wrinkled, as though his explanation disturbed him as much as it did you. “Given as an infusion at the time of rebirth. It ensures that we will always come back exactly the same physically as well as retain all of our personality traits and memories each time.” 

“Disgusting.” Suddenly, Ellaria was on her feet, palms slamming the table as she snarled. “They’ve desecrated the power of our blood. They -” Her eyes widened, going coal black with realization, lining up events from long ago with the information that had just been shared. “They killed two of our kind. Two of my Children.” Pain flickered across her face then, her voice breaking slightly with hatred and anguish. “For this. To study their blood. Our blood. My blood.” She hissed, sucking in a breath. “They will pay.” 

Toban rose silently, both of his hands wrapping around her wrists to lift them gently away from the table, which you noticed was dented from the force of her blow. He used that grip to pull her closer, easing her into his arms so that her shoulder was nestled against the center of his chest. Sliding his palm up her bicep, he pressed his forehead to her temple and whispered something that you knew Oberyn and Tyene had heard but that was a mystery to you. Not that it’s any of my business. Whatever he had said and the way that he held her seemed to have the effect he hoped for, Ellaria nodding at his words and letting him guide her back into her chair. 

“How?” Toban’s naturally deep voice dropped like a rock with the single word. “How do we stop them? How do we kill them?” 

“It’s actually quite simple.” Tyrion cocked his head to one side and then the other. “Relatively speaking, of course.” He sighed. “If you destroy the vials of original Lannister blood that Qyburn enhanced, you take away their ability to return.” Pausing, he locked eyes with Oberyn. “You make them mortal. And mortals are very easy to kill.” 

Your heart thumped against your ribcage as though it was trying to punctuate Tyrion’s point. We are, though. No super strength or speed, no healing abilities…no second chances. That thought forced another to click. Wait. “But won’t that make you mortal, too?” Every eye in the room snapped in your direction at the sound of your voice. Narrowing your eyes, you shook your head. “Wouldn’t destroying the vials mean that you couldn’t come back either?” How can we be sure we can trust him? Why would he put himself at risk for this? What if it’s a- 

“You’re wondering if I am leading you - or rather, your friends here - into a trap.” It wasn’t a question, it was a keen observation on his part. “Wondering why I would cut off my nose to spite my face, so to speak?” You swallowed, nodding. Yeah. Exactly. You were surprised when Tyrion’s jovial features turned slightly sad, the man releasing a breath. “My family has never been kind to me.” He grimaced, a rut forming between his eyebrows.. “Mostly my father and Cersei but… But Jaime, too. They’ve always been cruel, always made sure that I knew that I was only alive because they needed someone to delegate the lowest duties to. They’ve always found ways to make my many lifetimes feel like a journey through all seven hells. They…” His eyes closed and he gave a small shake of his head before opening them again. When he did, their crystal clear depths were trained on you. “I would rather die one final death than continue to be brought back just so my sister has a spider to pull legs from.” 

“I - “ You shook your head and swallowed. Shit, I wasn’t expecting that. “Tyrion, I’m sorry, I didn’t -” 

When he spoke your name, the sadness was gone from his voice. “If anyone here should be apologizing for anything, it certainly isn’t you.” He sighed. “It’s me. For everything that my family has done to all of you.” With a nod and a scrunch of his nose, he swallowed. “Which is also part of why I am here. It’s not just about how they’ve hurt me or the people I’ve cared for over the centuries.” A darkness clouded his eyes as he stared down at the tabletop. “It’s about all the lives they’ve ruined for their own gain. They -” Curling his fingers into a fist, his nostrils flared as he lifted his chin. “They need to be stopped and I simply cannot do it by myself..” 

“Well,” Oberyn tilted his head to the side and leaned forward in his seat. “You have our attention, Lord Tyrion, and-” He paused, shooting a glance over to Ellaria and registering the small nod she gave. “And, for now at least, you have our trust. Tell us what to do. We are listening.” 

The man blinked twice, a somewhat amused grin on his face. “Two thousand years ago, no one in Westeros would believe that I, Tyrion, scourge of House Lannister, would one day serve as Champion for the renowned warrior Oberyn Martell, but here we are.” 

You could practically feel Oberyn’s eyes roll, and despite the seriousness of the situation, had to bite back another laugh.“We will see about that. Talk.” 

And then, without further delay, Tyrion did.

Holy shit. 

You stared at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, hands gripping the counter’s edge and your weight leaned over them. The water still ran from the tap into the basin of the sink and you let it, despite having finished splashing your face and the back of your neck minutes earlier. The possible reality of what Tyrion had spent the last forty five minutes positing sent a spike of hope and adrenaline through you, and you tightened your fingers on the ledge, eyes widening.

Holy shit, this could really… You watched the pink tip of your tongue flick out between your lips to wet them, and then blew out a breath. No. This is going to work. 

Through the door you could hear the rest of the group talking, a boisterous laugh that sounded like Tyene’s breaking through the jumble of voices. It seemed like everyone else had also recognized the very real chance that they had to end the feud once and for all, a light hum of positivity almost palpable in the apartment since their unlikely ally revealed his plan. And as much as you knew that you shouldn’t get your hopes up too high, it was hard not to. 

Because it’s perfect. Tywin and Cersei… they’ll never see it coming. 

Tyrion had explained exactly how to catch them by surprise, and you had to admit it was good. As he had said in regards to the types of responsibilities that his father saw fit to delegate to him while his siblings were handed lofty positions within the Golden Lion corporation, this time around he had been tasked with overseeing the retrofitting and maintenance of the sewage, plumbing and electrical systems in all of the company’s properties. The literal shit end of the stick, he had joked. 

But while it had certainly been meant to slight him, Tyrion had taken the job seriously. 

It was boring work, far below his intelligence and capabilities. But he looked at it as he did all things - an opportunity to gain more knowledge than he had previously. He started by acquiring the blueprints of every building - offices, residential, recreational, commercial - that the company owned, familiarizing himself with the systems that were already in place, and reaching out to private contractors that would be able to give him suggestions and estimates on the work that needed to be done. 

For years he picked his way through each project, two more springing up whenever he completed one. Most of what he came across was to be expected when dealing with old buildings. Pipes that needed to be replaced, circuits and fixtures that needed rewiring to comply with modern energy and safety standards. But when one of the blueprints revealed the existence of a hidden vault in the sub-basement level of one of their California research facilities, he knew that he had stumbled on something that his father had no idea he had handed him - the location of the blood vials that allowed their lineage to repeat itself. 

Until then, Tyrion had always been kept in the dark about the whereabouts of the original Lannister DNA. Whether it was because they didn’t trust him to know that information or simply didn’t want him to have it so that they could keep the upper hand, he wasn’t sure. But it didn’t matter once he had that blueprint in front of him, because that was the moment when he realized that the shit end of the stick had for once turned into solid gold. 

Knowing where the vials were kept, though the most important piece of the puzzle, didn’t solve it completely, however. The vault was guarded at all times by Gold Cloak security, and Tyrion was well aware that his strengths did not include fighting. So for a few months he sat on the information, continuing to oversee sewage and electrical projects in other buildings while he thought about how to proceed. 

“But then you turned up looking for Gregor at that costume party, Prince Oberyn,” Tyrion had stated, “and it dawned on me. As bright and as big as the Dornish sun, it dawned on me that you and your companions were exactly who I needed to help me put an end to this.” 

Aside from the fact that you and Oberyn had nearly died following your encounter with the Mountain, it was almost as though the stars were aligning. 

With the Lannisters unsure of where Oberyn was or what state he was in, it was the right time to strike. They likely knew that Ellaria would be with him if he was still alive, because they were aware of the bond between Others and their Children. But they had no idea that Tyene and Toban were also there - nor did they think you were still alive. Because most would have killed me to survive.

“And that gives us an advantage, my friends, because it allows us to be in two places at once.” 

He proposed a two-prong attack then. Since Oberyn and Ellaria had already planned to attend Joffery’s engagement party as a way to show Tywin and Cersei that he had survived the Mountain’s attack, Tyrion suggested that they attend his nephew’s actual wedding, too, citing the fact that all of the Lannisters and Gregor Clegane would be there in one place. At the same time as they were arriving at the wedding venue, you, Tyene and Toban would be entering the underground facility to dispatch the guards and destroy the vials before rejoining Oberyn, Ellaria and Tyrion for your victorious escape - and anything that came with it. 

You knew that Oberyn hated the idea of you being there at all, especially if he couldn’t protect you himself. But you also knew that he understood that it was the best option. He wouldn’t want to leave you alone in the apartment, and he wouldn’t want to send either Tyene or Toban out alone, either. The three of you staying together for that phase of the attack was the best way to keep everyone safe. 

And then it will be over.

Your heart thumped with the nervous, cautious hope of that thought. With one last check in the mirror, you finally turned the tap off and dried your face and hands. Tyrion was getting ready to leave as you stepped out into the hallway, the man telling you once again what a pleasure it was to meet you before wishing you a good night. You said the same back to him, still somewhat stunned that you’d met him in the first place, and then quietly made your way into the living room as everyone else said their goodbyes and finalized the next steps of their plan. 

Stretching your arms above your head to release a small pop from between your shoulder blades, you walked to the window and looked out over the city. Below you and all around you, thousands of people carried on with their lives entirely oblivious to the existence of the Others, and to users of blood magic like the Lannisters. It was absolutely wild to think that just a handful of days ago, you were one of them - and that without the chance encounter at the bar, you would have stayed one of them. 

There’s no going back now. 

You’d had that thought multiple times as your involvement with Oberyn grew deeper. But even as you peered out through the glass at the life you’d never fully be able to return to, another thought backed up the first one - stamped just as firmly in your mind. 

I wouldn’t want to even if I could. 

A pair of quiet footsteps entered the room, and without having to turn you knew who they belonged to. 

You did anyway, though, tearing your eyes away from the window to take him in. When you did, you couldn’t help sucking in a gasp at the sight. He was standing in the center of the room, holding his spear and looking at you, and no matter how stunning the view you’d just abandoned was, what you saw in front of you was far more breathtaking. 

Oh, wow. Look at him.

“Hi.” Clearing your throat, you moved away from the window and towards where he stood. “Did I hear Tyrion leave?”  

Oberyn took a breath, his whole chest rising before he let it back out with a nod. “You did.” 

You hummed, gesturing to the weapon in his hand. “Looks like you’re not wasting any time getting into things.” 

“Ellaria was right when she said that I need to practice with my spear.” His eyes wandered up the shaft of the weapon he held. They lingered fondly on the golden snake coiled around the base of the crooked blade before dropping back to you. “And I will admit that I’ve missed it.”

You nodded. She did say that. Oberyn’s free hand reached for yours and you gave it to him. “I’m sure it’ll be like riding a bike for you.” His thick fingers wrapped around your hand and he tugged you a step closer. 

“Will you come up to the roof with me? There will be more space up there for me to familiarize myself with the movements again, and -” the sound of voices from the foyer carried down the hall, Oberyn’s gaze flicking over his shoulder momentarily. “And at this time of night it will be quiet. So we can talk more. About -” 

“Yes.” The word was out of your mouth in nothing flat. Is he kidding? Of course I want to see that. Your excitement must have been written on your face, because you watched as his expression turned to one of amusement. There’s no hiding it, not from him. You gave him a sheepish shrug. “This apartment is nice, Oberyn. But if you think I would rather stay down here knowing what you’re doing up there?” You scoffed and shook your head. “Absolutely not.” No way I’m missing that, especially if he wants me to be there. “Besides.” You stepped closer and pulled your hand free from his hold so that you could place your palm against his chest. “We definitely have more to talk about.”

“We do.” He leaned in, tongue swiping over his lips as he brought his hand up to your cheek. You felt your heart skip off rhythm and caught the glint in his eyes as he noticed, too. His hum lulled your eyes shut, but before he could close the distance and kiss you, someone else entered the room with a snort. 

“You two do know that there are bedrooms with doors in this apartment, don’t you?” 

Swallowing, you froze and opened your eyes as Tyene breezed into the living room, your face warming rapidly even though you knew she was just fucking with you. Immediately confirming that to be true, she smirked and tossed you a wink as she crossed the room to sink into one of the plush armchairs, a glossy magazine in hand. 

Oberyn straightened up but didn’t move away from you, instead drawing you closer to his side even as he turned to face the other woman. “We are aware.” He cocked his head to the side, lowering the spear and using it to indicate the magazine Tyene held. “Surely there is more stimulating reading material available here than -” The pages crinkled as Tyene shifted her grip on it to give him the finger, her eyes rolling playfully as she did. Oberyn grinned then, bringing the weapon back to its original position. “I’m actually glad that you walked in when you did, Tyene. I was going to come find you if you hadn’t.” 

“Oh?” She opened the magazine and scanned the first few pages, deciding which article to read. Four hundred years old and she’s still a typical teenager when it comes to him. 

“I was going to ask if you were up for a few rounds of sparring.” That got her attention far more than whatever she’d chosen to read - you could tell from the way that her shoulders lifted, chest expanding with an unnecessary intake of breath. You knew Oberyn saw it, too, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards before he spoke again. “It has been a long time since we have trained together.” 

You blinked, your own excitement to see him in action growing at the thought of getting to watch the two of them practicing their combat skills with each other. Oh, this is going to be something. 

“Sure.” Without lifting her eyes from the magazine that she was reading, Tyene tilted her head as she spoke. “But I’ll give you some time to warm up first, Oberyn.” She flipped the page, lifting a brow in an attempt to feign mild interest at whatever headline was scrawled atop the new one. A slight smirk that she couldn’t contain curved her lips as she turned another page. “Let you shake out the rust before I -”

The rich, full sound of his warm laughter pulled your focus back to his face. Small creases formed around his eyes, stretching out like sun rays as his smile pushed his cheeks higher.  “Easy, little snake.” He warned her with the arch of an eyebrow. “Never forget who taught you how to strike.” 

“I could never.” Tyene grinned, adjusting her position to settle more deeply into the armchair. Crossing her legs, she cocked her head to the side. “But you shouldn’t forget that part of what you taught me was that there is always more to learn.” She clicked her tongue against her teeth. “Like you said, it’s been a long time since we’ve trained together. I might have picked up a thing or two since then.” 

Oberyn chuckled, his shoulders lifting slightly. The gleam in his dark eyes was playful and teasing, but in it you also saw pride and affection for Tyene, the expression tugging at your heart. They mean so much to each other.  “Good.” He nodded. “I’m counting on it.”  

“See you in an hour, then.” With that, Tyene went back to skimming the magazine that was resting in her lap, and Oberyn let go of your waist, his hand once again wrapping around yours. 

He led you into the hall, the long space empty and silent. But I just heard  them talking. Where’s - Before you could finish your thought though, Toban stepped out from the bedroom closest to the front door, a relaxed smile on his face that seemed to round the edges of his square jaw. 

“Did I hear you and Tyene discussing a sparring session, Oberyn?” He crossed his arms casually over his chest, his emerald eyes moving with interest from Oberyn’s spear to your face. You felt his gaze linger on the mark on your throat, his chin angled slightly so that he could see it more clearly. It didn’t make you uncomfortable exactly, but you wondered why he was so fixated on it. He saw it as soon as he met me. Noticed it right away. You blinked. And as far as I know it hasn’t changed, so…  why does he keep - He brought his eyes back up to look directly at the man beside you as he continued. “And if so, would you mind if I joined you?” 

Oberyn’s grip on your hand tightened, and you knew that the other man noticed even though he didn’t react. “You did hear that.” His tone wasn’t quite clipped, but it lacked the jovial quality that you heard when he spoke to Tyene or Ellaria. I really need to know more about them. “And if you would like to join us, Toban, then I will certainly not stop you.” Toban’s smile widened as Oberyn’s eyebrows came together in question. “Where is Ellaria?”

Dropping his arms, Toban used one hand to indicate the front door. “She decided to follow Tyrion home, to make sure that the rest of the Lannisters did not have him followed here.” Smart. “She said she would be taking a longer route back in case anyone happened to be watching.” He lowered his hand to his side and tilted his head as he shrugged. “But with the Mountain still healing from his encounter with you, I doubt they would risk sending anyone else.” 

Oberyn let out a huff. “Let’s hope you are right.” He tapped the end of the spear shaft on the tiled floor. “But either way it’s best to be prepared.” Not waiting for a response, he took a step towards the door. “I am -” His eyes flicked to you and warmed significantly compared to the way he looked at Toban. “We,” he corrected himself, giving your hand another squeeze and a gentle pull, “are heading to the roof now, but Tyene is planning on coming up in about an hour. If you would like to join us then, you are welcome to, of course.” 

“Alright. See you in an hour, then.” Toban gave the two of you a single nod, watching as you stepped out the front door. 

You heard the lock click into place behind you, and then you and Oberyn were alone in the building’s hallway, heading for the elevators. Stepping into the car beside him, you watched as he pressed the button for the roof. But as the doors closed, meeting in the middle to form a solid, reflective surface, your eyes caught on the tip of Oberyn’s spear, and something occurred to you that hadn’t before. 

“Wait, are -” When you looked up at him, you found that he was already looking down at you with curiosity. I can’t believe I’m just realizing this, but… “Oberyn, are you going to use real weapons to spar with Tyene and Toban?” 

Oberyn grinned. “We are. Tyene fights with a pair of daggers, and Toban favors a longsword.” 

Your eyes widened. The same as the Mountain. “But…” Shaking your head, you furrowed your brow in confusion. “Isn’t that dangerous? What if you actually cut each other? I mean, I know you all can heal pretty damn fast, but doesn’t it take a lot out of you to do that? Wouldn’t… you’d all have to drink after that, to replenish. And -”  

Letting out a chuckle, Oberyn leaned over and laid a kiss to your temple. What’s so funny? “It won’t be a problem.” You felt his lips linger, curving into a smile before he pulled away to look at you again. “You are very considerate, but you don’t need to worry.” He dropped your hand then, plunging his own into his pocket to pull out a small brown glass bottle. “Poison is not the only thing that I tip my blades with, contrary to my reputation.” Giving the bottle a shake, he offered it to you. 

You turned it over in your hand, a viscous liquid sloshing inside of it. He wouldn’t have handed it to me if it was something dangerous. “What is this?” 

“That,” Oberyn stated, a hint of pride in his tone, “is my own creation.  I learned to make it in my time at the Citadel. It creates a protective barrier between a weapon and the skin, so that we can train freely without worrying about the consequences. With this on my blade, I won’t do more damage than a butter knife would.” That’s so smart. He shrugged. “And for us? Cuts that shallow will close almost immediately.” 

The light above the door flashed to let you know that you’d made it to the top, the car coming to a stop beneath your feet. You handed the bottle back to Oberyn and followed him out into the small enclosed space that led out onto the rooftop. 

“Does it only work for you? What would happen if a -” You stopped yourself from saying the word human. It made the difference between the two of you seem far larger than it felt, and you didn’t want to draw attention to that fact - especially after Tyrion’s comment on how fragile mortals were. “What would happen if I got cut?” 

“That will not happen.” His response was immediate, a slight edge to his tone, but then he sighed and answered your question more accurately. “But if it did, you would feel it. It probably would not go deep enough to require stitches, but it would bleed.”

Even discussing the unlikely possibility of you being hurt seemed to cause him distress, so you steered the conversation in a different direction. “Well then I’ll be sure to watch from a distance.” You winked at him as he stepped ahead of you to open the glass door that led out into the patio area. “I’m looking forward to seeing you in action.” 

The night air carried a breeze that tousled his hair, the moonlight catching the silvery strands hidden in his dark curls. He flashed a grin, one that he knew damn well would make you suck in a breath. “Then I will try not to disappoint.” 

You scoffed through a smile then, shaking your head as you walked over to the railing. Looking back at him over your shoulder, you rolled your eyes over the top of your smile-raised cheeks. “Not possible, Oberyn.” 

You let out a breath as you returned your gaze to the city lights and the moonlit sky, but you turned back to face him when he spoke your name. “I need to move some of these tables and chairs out of the way. If I am going to spar with Tyene and with -” you noticed the tick of his jaw as it tightened. “With Toban, I need more space.” He took a step closer to you, reaching for your right hand. “Will you hold this for me while I do that?” 

Hold wha- oh. Before the question was even half formed in your thoughts, he was lifting your hand up to curl around the shaft of his spear. Holy shit, I’m holding… he’s letting me… You sucked in a breath as you felt how smooth the wood was beneath your palm, Oberyn’s hand sliding yours into place and then curling your fingers into a secure grip. Making sure that the blunt end was still flush with the ground, he completely covered your hand with his own, bringing the other to your waist. 

“Tyene was not joking when she mentioned how sharp I kept this blade,” he said, eyes flicking from where they were locked with yours up to the tip of the spear. You followed his gaze as moonlight struck the edge of it, the steel glinting lethally against the darkness. “Hold it just like that.” Dropping both arms back to his sides, he took a step back and tilted his chin downwards before lifting it slowly in appraisal. Your breath caught as you watched something just as deadly as the blade flash mischievously in his eyes. “That looks good in your hands.” 

His comment, combined with the way he was looking at you - head cocked at an angle, the tip of his tongue sliding along the seam of his lips - made your heart skip again. The lift of one cheek higher into his eye as his grin grew told you that he was aware of the change, too. Of course he is. 

You let out a breath and licked at your lips, head shaking side to side as Oberyn turned to start moving chairs out of his way. “Maybe.” He looked over at you again, arching one eyebrow as he lifted a side table and stacked it on top of another one. “But it’s much more useful in yours.” I’d cut my own damn head off if I tried to do anything more than hold this. 

“I’m after a few lessons you would be able to make use of it.” You watched him stack another set of tables. “Perhaps one day soon I will get the chance to teach you a few things.” Oh. That would be… Your heart pounded at the thought of Oberyn standing directly behind you, placing your hands on the shaft, directing the motion of your hips as he showed you how to step and thrust for the best angle of attack. Fuck. “For now though, I’m -” He walked over to the sectional patio couch and bent down to place his hands on the cushions. Shooting you a wink over his shoulder, he continued. “I am very happy to look.” 

You shook your head, breath coming through your nose in an amused exhale. That makes two of us. Keeping your eyes on his back, you watched as he pushed the furniture towards the railing, taut muscles straining the fabric of his shirt. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re an incorrigible flirt, Prince Oberyn?” 

Straightening up, he laughed, the sound rich and warm. A few days ago I didn’t think I’d ever get to hear that sound again. “I may have heard that before.” He shrugged, lips dipping into a false frown before lifting again. “One or two… thousand times.” 

Your free hand came to your hip as you watched him measure out the space he’d just cleared in footsteps. “I bet that’s an understatement.” 

Seemingly satisfied with the area, Oberyn held up one finger and turned with a sweeping step, closing the distance until he stood directly in front of you. “Perhaps. But it is a good thing that I am so incorrigible.” His left hand rose to curl around the spear, just below where you held it so that your pinky was stacked atop his pointer finger. With a grin, he looped his right arm through the angle of your bent elbow and wound it around your back. “Otherwise -” Palm splaying along your spine, he used it and your shared grip on the spear to pull you closer. “We may have never met.” 

Without hesitation, you leaned in to kiss him. The hand on your hip came up to rest against his cheek as his plush lips parted to accept yours. Despite the fact that you had been the one to initiate it, you sucked in a breath as he kissed you back, still not fully used to the rush that came with it. I’m not sure I ever will be. Trusting that he had a firm enough grip on the weapon, you let it go and brought your right hand up to the other side of his face and around to tangle your fingers in his hair. 

The second you tightened your grip on his curls, a husky groan slipped through his kiss. You smiled against his lips at the knowledge that you pulled that sound from him so easily. “I’m glad we did, Oberyn.” 

He rested his forehead against yours as he swept his thumb along your spine. “So am I.” 

As much as you would have loved to stand there in his hold all night, you knew that under the current circumstances - the impending confrontation with the Lannisters and Gregor and all the preparation that would have to go into taking them down - you couldn’t. 

You had gone up to the roof so that Oberyn could train, but also so that the two of you would have the chance to talk about things in private. And there are things I need to ask him before Tyene and Toban get here, so… You sighed and pulled away, letting one hand fall back to your side, the other reaching for the spear again. 

He seemed to come to the same conclusion. “I guess I should get started, hmm?” 

You nodded, eyebrows coming together as you swallowed. “Can I ask something? Before…” He tilted his head in question as you trailed off. “Before Toban comes up, I -” His expression flickered slightly at the mention of the other man. Yeah, that’s what I need to know about. You sighed. “Oberyn, I can tell there’s tension between the two of you, and I’m sure there’s a reason for that. And if you want to tell me about it later? I’ll gladly listen.” He nodded once. “But for now, before I spend any time with him, is there anything I need to know? Anything you don’t want me to say? Or…”

Your words trailed off as Oberyn’s hands came up to rest on your biceps, palms rubbing up and down gently. “You do not need to hold anything back from Toban Dayne.” He rolled his eyes before letting go of your arms and reaching forward to finally relieve you of the spear. “I know he will not hold anything back from you.” 

Is that… a good thing? You heard the clank of wood against concrete as he set the weapon down, leaning it against the arm of the couch. “I know you must trust him or else he wouldn’t be here.” Your shoulders rose in a small shrug. “I just figured… if there were any… uncomfortable topics to avoid, I should know about them.” 

“I appreciate you asking, but there are no secrets, and I would  never presume to tell you what you can or cannot say to anyone.” He brought both hands back to your body then, one resting at your waist. The other he raised to your throat, fingertips just grazing the mark and causing the skin to tingle. “All I ask is that you give me a chance to explain anything he tells you.” Oberyn let out a sigh. “I do trust Toban. He and I have not always seen eye to eye on things, but ultimately we are on the same side.” 

That was good enough for you. For now, anyway. “Alright.” Nodding, you licked your lips and let them curve into a smile as his hand came to rest on the side of your neck. “In that case?” You tilted your head towards his spear. “I think it’s time for you to show me what you can do with that.” 

He said your name then, eyes flashing as he winked at you. “It would be my pleasure.” 

You focused on the movement of Oberyn’s hands - on the way his grip changed as his wrists twisted intentionally over one another to create the twirling motion. There was a quiet thunk every time the ring on his thumb made contact with the wood, his fingers curling around it with the same dexterity that a musician would use to coax a melody from an instrument. He hasn’t even held it in thousands of years but… A shaft of silver moonlight sifted through the clouds and caught the beveled edge of the crooked blade to make it glint against the night. But it’s like he never put it down. It’s natural.   

As that thought crossed your mind though, you felt a tight pang of sadness in your chest. No. The clouds covered over the moon again as he went through another pass of the form he was practicing. Drawing one leg up onto your seat, you frowned, lips pulling down and to the side. 

It would feel even more natural for him if he were doing this in the daylight. He had first learned to fight on the sands of Dorne, with the bright, unfettered sun warm on his skin as he repeated the techniques enough times to commit them to muscle memory. This - an LA rooftop in the middle of the night - couldn’t have been more different from that. 

You sighed, your eyes flicking down to the opened buttons of his white Henley, where the absence of his gold pendant was noticeable. The cool autumn breeze brought a chill into the air that make you shiver, and you shrugged more deeply into the sweater that you wore. You tried to remind yourself that it was only temporary - that he would be able to walk in the sunlight again soon, the intricately cast medallion once again hanging from his neck. He’ll need it back for the engagement party, so…  just a few more days.  

Blinking, you switched your attention to his forearms, watching them flex as he directed the spearhead to control the balance of the weapon. His feet slid almost silently over the concrete as he moved backwards three paces before turning with a wide but calculated sidestep so that he faced you directly. Without missing a beat, he raised one eyebrow and tilted his head to the side, grin climbing up that cheek. 

“So what do you think?” Breaking from the repetitive movements, he quickly changed his grip so that both hands were wrapped around the middle of the spear’s handle, and then lunged, thrusting the point of it only a few inches from where you sat. “Do I stand another chance against the Mountain?” 

As much as you hated the thought of him going toe to toe with that monster again, you had to admit that the fact that Oberyn would have his spear - and his armor - this time around made you far less worried. You let your lips curve into a small smile, and were rewarded as the one on his face reached his eyes, their depths shining. 

“I think that if you had this spear with you at that costume party, Oberyn?” You stood then, one hand coming up to gently push the end of the weapon aside so you could safely close the distance between the two of you. Shaking your head, you dropped your arm back to your side as he pulled back and set the flat end of the spear against the ground. “Things would have gone very differently for all of us.” 

He hummed, his free hand reaching for your hip as his eyes locked with yours. “I am inclined to agree with you.” 

Another breeze swept through the space between your bodies to play with the tassel hanging from the spear and ruffle the fringe of hair that fell over his forehead. It’s chilly tonight. You took a breath in through your nose, the crisp autumn air filling your lungs as you placed both of your hands on his chest. But he’s not cold. 

You smiled at that thought and stepped even closer, flattening your forearms against him to soak up the warmth coming through his shirt. The fingertips of your left hand slipped up and over his collar to glide over his skin. He’s not cold at all.

When he spoke again you felt his words vibrating against your palms where you touched him. “Fighting with a weapon like this one gives me better control of the distance between myself and my opponent. It lets me keep them at a greater length than a sword or a dagger would allow.” That makes sense. 

You saw the flash of his grin and the mischievous twinkle in his eye that told you something was coming, but you were still unprepared for how swiftly he moved. Gasping, you felt him release your hip and swing the spear around behind you, using the same hand that he’d just had resting near your waist to instead grip the shaft of the weapon. With the pole pressed to your back, he used it to pull you flush against him, his arms caging you between his torso and the polished wooden handle. “Or…” He flicked his eyes down to your chest, watching the dramatic rise and fall before tilting his head to speak directly into your ear. “I can keep them close.” 

Your heart skipped as his teeth raked your skin, and though it didn’t seem possible, you melted into him even more. He’s never going to play fair with me, is he? You wound your arms up and around his neck and as he tilted his head back to look at you once more, you realized something and it made you grin. That means I don’t have to, either. 

“Oh, is that what I am, Oberyn?” You raised one eyebrow, right hand sliding into his hair to make a loose grip. “An opponent?” Tightening your fist so that your knuckles dug lightly at his scalp, you pulled a groan from him that made you both grin. “Someone you need to fight?” Oberyn stared at you for a few moments before responding with a slow shake of his head. 

“No.” He took a step backwards, eyes falling to your lips as his own curved into a grin, and despite the fact that he had somehow put more warmth in the word than you would have thought possible, you shivered. The handle of the spear pressed gently into your back, Oberyn using it to corral you even closer. Another step brought his calves in contact with the cushion of the L shaped patio lounge, and you sucked in a breath as he rolled the length of smooth wood down into the dip where your spine met your pelvis. “I can think of many things that I would rather do with you than fight.” He lowered himself into a seated position, urging you to follow. “Much better reasons to keep you close.” 

“Good.” Your knees sunk into the cushion on either side of his lap, but you didn’t settle your weight on his thighs. “Because I wouldn’t last a single second against you.”

He chuckled, the low rumble from his chest accompanying a wolfish grin. “Do not sell yourself short.” His rings clanged against the wooden spear as he tightened his grip on it to force your weight down on top of him, a startled gasp slipping from your lips as you felt him solidly beneath you. Though he wasn’t hard it didn’t take much to imagine what it would feel like when he was. Fuck. You nearly moaned, heat flooding your entire body as he lifted his hips with you still straddled over them. “I think you will last more than a few seconds when we -” 

The sound of a throat clearing cut the rest of his words short, and you froze as Tyene’s voice hit your ear. 

“When I said you should warm up with your spear, Oberyn -” You slowly turned your head to watch her saunter over, your heart thudding wildly in your ears at the slight embarrassment of being caught. Her left eyebrow rose as she used one finger to indicate the two of you and the position that you were in before crossing her arms over her chest and sticking one hip out. “This is not what I meant.” 

Shit. I… she’s right, I should… he needs to be taking this seriously and - You tried to lift yourself from Oberyn’s lap, but though he’d set his weapon aside at Tyene’s arrival, his hands kept you firmly in place, both of them flattened against the small of your back. 

“You have your methods for preparing for a fight, little snake.” Oberyn flexed his fingers so they dug lightly into you, and then he let his palms slip around to the tops of your thighs with a shrug. “And I have mine.” 

Mine. 

You took a breath, letting the word wash over you, warmth dropping into your belly as it did. You would gladly be his pre-fight preparation. You would gladly be his anything, if given the chance.

I am yours, Oberyn. 

Leaving his hands where they lay, and continuing his conversation, Oberyn glanced over Tyene’s shoulder. “Where is Toban? He said he wanted to-“ 

“Ellaria’s back.” Oh, good. Though you weren’t truly worried about Ellaria running into anything she couldn’t handle, you were relieved to know she’d made it back safely - and without being followed. “He was just talking to her, and then he said he’ll be right up.” 

“We’ll have to get started without him, then.” He gently tapped your leg and you shifted off of his lap and onto the cushion of the lounge furniture. Pulling the bottle he’d shown you earlier out of his pocket, he handed it to Tyene. “Get yourself prepared, and then show me what you’ve learned since our last dance.” 

She took the bottle with a flourish, unscrewing the cap and pulling one of two daggers from her belt. “Gladly.” 

You watched the two of them in wide-eyed wonder as they twirled and lunged, dodged and clashed their weapons together under the moonlight. 

A few times they had nicked one another, and you witnessed the substance that Oberyn had crafted work in real time as long cuts that should have gone much deeper appeared and vanished over their forearms and sides. The blades left a few slashes in their clothing - Tyene had a tear across the front of her shirt and Oberyn’s left sleeve was shredded - but no actual harm remained on their bodies. That’s incredible. 

The door to the patio opened behind you, but you kept your eyes on the scene in front of you until the other man was standing right next to where you sat. Though Oberyn had told you about his weapon of choice, it still came as somewhat of a shock to see the sword that he carried. Going through customs at the airport must be interesting for them. 

“Looks like you’ve got front row seats.” Toban spoke your name, nodding towards where Oberyn and Tyene were circling each other a few feet away. I sure do. He blinked away from the fight and glanced down at you, sharp eyes focused on your face. “Mind if I sit?”

Crossing your left leg over the right, you gestured to the cushions beside you. “Of course not, Toban, there’s plenty of room.” 

He let out a sigh as he lowered himself onto the couch, a relaxed look of contentment settling over his features. “Thank you.” Returning his attention to the action, he tilted his head closer to yours. “Did I miss anything exciting?” 

You mean aside from two expertly skilled immortal warriors engaged in a fight? “Um…” You cleared your throat. “They uh, they just got started a few minutes ago, so-” 

Before you could finish your response the clang of metal on stone rang out through the air, one of Tyene’s daggers clattering to the ground. “I’ve taken one of your fangs, little snake,” Oberyn chided while deftly twirling the spear back to ready position. “Plan your next strike carefully.” 

Tyene huffed, tossing her remaining dagger from her left hand to her right. “What makes you think I haven’t planned it already?” 

The soft scrape of their bootsoles on the pavers signaled the end of their banter as they began circling each other again. Toban chuckled under his breath. “Guess I got here just in time for the good part, hmm?” 

Oberyn used the blunt end of the spear to knock the weapon Tyene dropped further from her reach, and you exhaled through your nose in a huff of laughter. “Guess you did.” You glanced over at the man next to you as he stretched out his long legs, casually stacking his ankles and folding his arms over his chest. “Is Ellaria coming up, too?” 

Still watching the dueling pair in front of you, Toban clicked his tongue and shook his head. “No. She said she has other preparations that need to be handled before the engagement party.” That makes sense. I’m sure there’s…  He shifted his focus to you, eyes lingering on the mark on your throat before coming up to shoot a wink at you. “That means she’s online, shopping for something to wear to this party.”

You weren’t expecting that, and the image of Ellaria Sand stretched out in bed or sprawled on the couch in the apartment downstairs while she scrolled fashion sites on her phone made you laugh. Good for her. Before you could comment, though, Toban was speaking again. 

“Do you know what it means?” He tilted his head to the side, focus slipping down to your throat, and you knew he was talking about your mark. “Did he…” A crease formed between his brows, and even in the dark you could see something close to concern flicker in Toban’s eyes. “What did Oberyn tell you about that mark he gave you?” 

Your heart pounded against your ribs as your fingers came up to absently brush the spot just under your jawline. I guess this is what he meant about Toban not holding back. Glancing across the patio, you saw - and felt - as Oberyn’s eyes darted to where you were sitting. There was no doubt that Oberyn could hear every word of your conversation, even over the sound of his blade clashing with Tyene’s. And about there not being any secrets. 

“He…” Fingers curling towards your palm, you dropped your hand away from your jawline and nodded. “Yes.” You cleared your throat, watching as Oberyn spun away, lifting the spear over his head to block Tyene’s attack. “He told me that it means that I’m under his protection. That none of… of your kind will hurt me in any way because of it.” 

Your attention shifted back to the man beside you as he spoke. “That is true.” Lifting one eyebrow, his mouth quirked to the side in a smirk. “I do not know every Other who walks the Earth, but I do know that not a single one of them would dare cross the Red Viper.” 

As if on cue, Toban’s words were punctuated by the shing of steel on stone as Oberyn sent Tyene’s second dagger flying from her hand. It was the third round in a row that he’d bested her, and the quickest. And this is just practice against someone he knows and trusts. “But I -“ Your tongue slipped out to wet your lips. “I know it means more to him than that.” 

Using the blade end of his spear, Oberyn scooped one of Tyene’s fallen weapons up, flipping it in one fluid motion to catch it by the hilt. “One more?” He asked as she retrieved the other one. “Or have you shown me all your new tricks yet?” 

Tyene’s response came in the form of the finger and a slew of what you assumed were swears in Valyrian. Laughing as she shook her head, she snatched the blade back from him. But as she turned to take the ready position, you caught the way Oberyn looked over at you - his eyes focused on yours, lips pressed together, a small shadow darkening his brow as his forehead wrinkled slightly. Without the moonlight shining on his hair, you might have missed the small nod of his head, encouraging you to keep going. 

“Do you?” Toban’s voice pulled your attention back to him.

Blinking, you licked your lips. “Yes, I do. He told me -” You sucked in a breath as the weight of what you were about to say dropped into your chest with the same heft that it did when Oberyn explained things to you. “He told me it’s been 400 years since he’s done this. And he told me why, too.” 

Toban hummed. “So you understand how important you are to him then? What it means that he has broken 400 years of denying himself that bond? For you?” 

It means it’s going to devastate him when I die. You swallowed, trying to rid the bitter taste of that thought from your tongue. But it also means… “It means that he wants me in his life. For however long is possible. And I -” You kept your eyes on Oberyn, on the fluidity of his motion, the shine of his smile. “I want that, too.” 

“However long is possible?” Toban shifted in his seat so that he could look at you more fully, and though you wanted to continue to watch the sparring session, you sensed that the conversation you were having was heading for deeper waters. You turned three quarters of the way towards the man beside you as he went on. “You know by now that eternity is possible.” I do, but - “What would you say to eternity?” 

Your mouth went dry then, heart thudding hard against your ribs. I would say yes. I… there would be things I needed to take care of first, but I would say yes. It still scared you a little to know that that was how you felt about someone you had only known for such a short period of time. But it did nothing to change the facts. 

That wasn’t what you said, though. Instead, you shook your head. “It doesn’t matter, Toban, because he also told me that he can’t make that offer, and I understand why.” But you know that’s not what my first thought was, don’t you.

The emerald green eyes trained on you narrowed slightly. “Oberyn told you about the last person he gave his mark to.” That was a statement, and one that you had already confirmed, so you knew that there was something else coming. “But has he told you about Cameron?” 

Who? You knew that your expression answered for you, but you gave him one anyway with a slow shake of your head. “No.” 

“I see.” Toban nodded. “Well, let me fill you in. Cameron was someone that Oberyn had started to become close to. This was -” He tilted his head in thought for a few seconds. “Maybe a century ago? They traveled together, trained together. For a time they were inseparable. I think in some ways they were in love.” You listened closely. “But Oberyn remained resolute in his decision not to strengthen that bond by using his mark or by offering to change his companion until he was free of his quest for revenge and justice.” 

Without realizing it, you had lifted your fingers to brush at the space under your jaw. Your pulse thumped against the tips of them, as though reminding you that while Oberyn had broken half of his rules for you, you remained human, just like Cameron. And I’ll stay that way, because …

“At that time, like other times throughout our lives, we had made enemies of some different groups within the Others.” Toban explained. “One group from Braavos, in particular. I knew that they would stop at nothing to find ways to hurt us. They had already tried to kill one of Ellaria’s Children, and it was only a matter of time before they sought a way to deliver a blow to Oberyn, too. Cameron would have been the easiest target for them, and he had been left unprotected.” 

You gasped quietly. Oh, Oberyn.  “Did they… did they get to him?” 

Toban sighed then, a look crossing his face that you couldn’t quite place. It was somewhere between sorrow and sympathy, a touch of regret reaching his eyes and setting his handsome features into a frown. “They did not. Because I stepped in first.” 

In the distance, you heard Tyene swear as Oberyn’s spear slipped at her thigh, and when you looked over you saw that he was watching you and Toban while he waited for her to reset. But he wanted me to talk to Toban, so… You returned your attention to the other man. “What do you mean by that?” 

“I mean I gave Cameron my mark of protection to keep him safe from our enemies. For Oberyn. I acted so he would not have to suffer that loss, too.” 

That shocked you. It was a selfless thing, a generous gift. But you knew that the story did not have a happy ending. Not for Oberyn, at least. “That’s…” You shook your head. “Did it work?” 

Toban raised his eyebrows and nodded. “It did. It kept Cameron safe. Kept him alive.” He sighed again, the action making his broad shoulders sag. “But it also changed Cameron’s feelings toward Oberyn. It hurt him to know that despite their connection, he wouldn’t offer the same thing that I had given him. Soon, Cameron spent less and less time with Oberyn, and more time with me. Until one day he…” Toban brought a hand to his head and smoothed it back over his hair. “He asked me to change him.” Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped open. “And I said yes.” 

“Oh.” Your voice was small but you knew he heard you. You knew Oberyn heard you, too. So that’s why… that’s part of why their relationship is so… 

You heard Toban speak your name then, and you blinked, focusing on him once more. “I am glad it will not be the same with you.” He cautiously raised his hand towards your neck, and you let him graze his fingers over your mark without knowing what to expect. It didn’t feel the same as it did when you or Oberyn touched it, and the contact didn’t linger, Toban withdrawing his hand and settling it back in his lap to clasp around the hilt of his sword. “I’m glad that he found you.” 

“I -” What? 

“Toban!” Tyene’s exasperated voice interrupted your response as she called to him from across the roof. “I’m tapping out. Softened him up for you though, so -” At that, Oberyn gave her a small shove, the woman stumbling but catching herself with quick footwork. 

“One second,” Toban responded, a grin curving his lips. He turned back to you. “It was a pleasure talking with you. I look forward to getting to know you more after all of this is over.” With that, he rose and made his way over to trade places with Tyene, who approached you just as Oberyn handed the bottle off to Toban so that he could coat his sword in the protective solution. 

You knew you must have had a wild look in your eyes from the way she studied you, but you couldn’t help it after everything Toban had just revealed. And as much as you wanted to stay and watch the two men train, you were relieved when Tyene cocked her head to the side and asked if you wanted to go back inside. 

“It’s cold out here,” she offered as an out, even though she knew the temperature had nothing to do with the things you were trying to process. “I’m gonna go take a hot shower in that big ass bathroom downstairs. There’s another one in the bedroom you’re staying in, too, if you wanted to -” 

Not even letting her get to the end of her suggestion, you stood. “Yeah.” You nodded. “That sounds really good, actually. Let me just -” You pointed towards where Oberyn and Toban were getting ready to square up. “I’ll let Oberyn know, and -” 

“Alright. I’ll wait for you.” She placed her hand on your shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze before  heading off in the direction of the small glass lobby that housed the elevator. 

Telling her you’d be right behind her, you pressed your lips together and made your way over to where Oberyn stood. As soon as he saw you in motion, he set down his spear and strode to meet you halfway. His large, warm hands came to rest at your waist the moment you were within his reach. “Are you alright?”

For a few seconds all you could do was stare up into the brown - almost obsidian - eyes that scanned your face. Eventually you nodded, one hand coming up to brush his windswept and tousled hair back into place. He sighed at your touch, leaning into it. “I am, Oberyn. That was just…” You shivered then, as much from the weight of your thoughts as from the night chill. Too much for anyone, and …  

He gave you a small smile that wasn’t quite sad, but didn’t light his face the way it usually did. “I know. This is a lot to take in. I promise I will explain everything to you tonight when we’re done here.” He flexed his fingers where he held you. “Go ahead inside and get warm and comfortable. We won’t be much longer.” 

Throat tight with a mix of emotions, all you could manage was a nod and a quiet “okay.” He leaned down to brush his lips against yours, and then he released you, turning back to where Toban stood waiting. 

Holy shit. 

On slightly shaky legs, you went to meet up with Tyene, the two of you taking the elevator down in near silence, until the light above the door indicated that you were almost back to your floor. 

“Hey. I'm glad you know, now,” she said, bumping you gently with her elbow. “How much you mean to him, I mean.” 

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Me too.” 

When you reached the apartment, Tyene turned to give you a brief hug before disappearing into one of the bedrooms. After standing in the hall for a few seconds to collect yourself, you did the same, suddenly desperate to be under the warm flow of water so that you could peel apart your thoughts and examine them in peace. 

You weren’t sure how long you stayed in the shower, but when you got out you felt as though you’d absorbed what Toban had told you as best as you could. Under the circumstances, anyway.

Changing into a pair of olive green sweats and a tan long sleeve shirt, you opened the slider door to the balcony off your bedroom and stepped back into the night. You were only alone out there for a few minutes, though. After the time you had taken to yourself you were happy to be back in his company - alone. 

“Outside again, hmm?” You heard the sound of the glass door rolling along its track as he pulled it shut after stepping out into the small space. “You’re not too cold?” 

Lips curving upwards, you continued to gaze out at the city below. “I like the view.” You shrugged and let out a sigh before pushing off the railing to turn to face him. “And I know you’ll keep me w -” 

A pair of arms wrapped around you from behind then, stopping your motion and keeping you facing forward. “My view is much better.” Though he spoke directly into your ear, you could feel his beard as it rasped over the skin of your neck, just below the line of your jaw. Sucking in a breath, you melted against his chest as you let it back out, his body heat seeping into your skin. “And I will keep you warm.” His hold on you tightened as he dragged his mouth over the invisible mark. “Very warm.” 

You shuddered at the sensation, eyelids falling closed and his name coming out in a gasp. That feels incredible. Reaching back with one hand to rake your fingers through his hair, you hummed as he left a slow, lingering kiss to the underside of your jaw before straightening up again. 

“I will need to go back inside before the sun comes up.” You felt his fingertips running up the length of your right forearm before sliding slowly back down. “But we can stay out here for as long as you want until then.” At Oberyn’s words, Toban’s mention of an eternity played back in your mind. 

“Okay,” you murmured, letting the hand that was in his hair come back around to the front of your body to rest over his arms where he held you. An eternity of this would be amazing, but for now … I’ll take tonight.

“And,” he tightened his hold then. “I would like to tell you about Cameron. Ask me anything you want to know.” 

“Everything,” you responded, leaning your head back against his chest. “I want to know everything, Oberyn.” 

Tag list reblogs coming soon! 

[wheresarizona]

Nothing Sweeter

summary: Oberyn’s in town, and you’re dropping everything to see him. 

rating: E (18+!! This is smut. Unprotected p in v (wrap it up), oral sex (f receiving), creampie (it’s Oberyn), breeding if you squint (Oberyn, again), it all happens against a window, so semi-public sex, (1) bite, dirty talk, praise, feelings)

pairing: Modern!Oberyn Martell/f!reader

word count: 2300+

a/n: A fic for my follower celebration for @s-stark, who requested Oberyn Martell and “I want to fuck you right against this window so everyone can see how good you take it.” This is a modern au. Oberyn and reader are winemakers, and I did my best. Ya girl did a lot of googling, so I apologize if I messed up anything. Imagine this is the GOT universe but modern, so there’s still Dorne and Westeros. This is my second time writing Oberyn, so please be gentle. Shoutout to @juletheghoul, who did a quick look over. Any mistakes are my own!

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs appreciated!

Masterlist

You weren’t dating Oberyn Martell, but you were definitely more than just friends. Friends with benefits didn’t accurately describe your relationship either. Fuck buddies seemed too impersonal. Lovers, maybe.

There really wasn’t a name for what you had—two people so in love with each other, who fit so perfectly together and would drop everything to see the other at a moment's notice. That was the thing, though, if you both lived in the same city, or hells, the same country, there could be more than whatever this was, which was you throwing all of your plans for the weekend out of the window because Oberyn was in town on business. 

You’d met five years prior at a winemakers conference, the best from all around the world meeting up for a week to discuss the industry. You’d just taken over a lot of duties from your father, and it had been the first time you’d gone. You met Oberyn, sparks flew, and next thing you knew, the conference was forgotten, and you’d gotten very familiar with the inside of his extravagant room.

It had been the start of something, the two of you meeting whenever you could, talking and texting whenever you couldn’t. You’d both fallen in love, but the timing had never been right, the two of you too focused on work. 

He told you on the phone he was staying in some swanky hotel downtown—which made sense; it was Oberyn, after all, living his life of luxury as a co-owner of one of the most prestigious wineries in the world. It hadn’t surprised you when you found yourself exiting the elevator of said hotel into the penthouse suite. 

Oberyn was waiting for you, dressed in black slacks and a beautiful yellow patterned sweater, smiling broadly.

“My love,” he greeted, taking long strides to get into your space, his large palms coming up to cradle your cheeks as he looked at you lovingly. “I’ve missed you.” 

“I missed you, too,” you replied, your hands landing on his waist.  

He kissed you then, tenderly, softly, until he needed more and deepened it, swallowing your moan as your tongues moved together in a practiced dance. Arousal was pooling in your belly, feeling your panties becoming wet, knowing what was to come. 

Oberyn tasted like wine—a red, something with a powerful fruit character, spice, and some acidity—Dornish Red, you thought. 

A hand slipped down your front, palming your breast over your dress, his lips moving along your jaw and down your throat, making you moan when he sucked at the skin. 

“Dornish Red,” you panted. “A newer vintage, though you tried to trick me into believing it was older. I’m almost positive it’s from the year we met—you worked magic on that vintage getting the tannins to weave so seamlessly it makes it seem years older.”

You were very familiar with the wines he made and other competitors. You were an oenophile—a wine connoisseur—you loved making it, too. 

He chuckled, head lifting to look you in the eye. 

“There’s no tricking you, my love.” He kissed you. “Now, you taste extra sweet. Ice wine, no? From the fruit and citrus, I’d think Essos, something from Braavos. But the bodiness of the grape tells me it’s Northern—you made it. You’ve gotten adventurous, darling. Tell me you brought a bottle.”

You grinned. 

“Of course,” you said. “In my purse,” your head tilted down to indicate the bag hanging on your shoulder. 

Oberyn immediately pulled it down your arm and set it on a nearby cushioned chair. 

“We’ll have a glass after I’ve gotten my fill of you. Nothing sweeter than the taste of your cunt on my tongue.”

Your core throbbed at his words. 

“Gods, Oberyn,” you moaned. “I’ve missed you.”

“And I you.”

His mouth was back on yours, hands all over your body, groping your breasts, then moving to your ass. They went up, expertly undoing the zip of your dress. You grabbed at the hem of his sweater and pulled it up, Oberyn lifting his arms to help you get it off, the garment being tossed aside. Quickly, your dress was shed, his pants were removed, leaving you in your lingerie, and him completely naked except for the gold necklace hanging around his neck. 

“A goddess,” Oberyn mused as he took in the red lace, eyes roving all over your body. “Better off, I think.”

He kissed you again before he stripped you of the rest of your clothes, his mouth finding yours again as he started walking you through the suite. 

The living room boasted floor-to-ceiling windows, offering views of the streets down below and other skyscrapers. The sun had already gone down, and the city was alive with the lights glittering brightly outside. 

Your back hit the glass, warm on this summer evening, his hands moving down your body, palming your breasts, before one was trailing down to the apex of your thighs, his mouth still on yours. 

He slid two fingers through your slit, making you moan as he felt your wetness. 

“Already wet for me,” he murmured against your lips. He circled your clit, shooting a jolt of pleasure through you. “I need to taste.”

He kissed along your jaw, down your throat and chest, laving at your nipples, before he continued lower, crouching in front of you. His hand grabbed one of your legs, lifting it, bending your knee to set on his shoulder and open you up to him. 

“Look at that,” he said, rubbing his fingers through your folds. “Perfection.”

Your eyes were on him, watching as he leaned in, gasping when you felt his tongue against your sensitive flesh. 

Oberyn was a generous lover, the kind of man who loved to give and made every encounter an experience you’d never forget. He knew what he was doing. He’d done it enough times, with many, many different partners, that he could take you apart in a record amount of time. 

He licked away your slick, sliding his tongue through your slit before he pulled your clit into his mouth and sucked, making you tremble. He worked his mouth and tongue, licking and sucking, causing that coil in your stomach to wind tighter and tighter, moaning as he built you up. Your hands were in his hair, holding on as he worked you over, his nose nudging against your sensitive bundle of nerves. 

The coil finally snapped, and you came, pleasure coursing through your body as you moaned his name, trembling on a shaky leg, his hands keeping you up. He worked you through your high until he was moving out from under you, rising and kissing the breath from your lungs, making you moan as you tasted yourself on his lips. You could feel him hard against your stomach, and you ached for him. 

“Tongue as talented as ever,” you mused, voice muffled, as he continued to kiss you. 

His hands moved down your body to grab your ass. 

He pulled back to look at you with a smirk. 

“Let’s see if other parts are still as talented,” he replied. 

He moved quickly, stepping back to spin you, pressing your front against the pane of glass. Oberyn moved so he was flush with your back, grinding his hard cock against you, feeling his necklace cool against your skin. 

“Here?” You gasped. 

He leaned in his mouth against your ear. 

“I want to fuck you right against this window so everyone can see how good you take it, my love.” He nipped at your earlobe. 

You moaned, at his words, cunt clenching hard around nothing. The anticipation was swelling up inside of you, feeling your arousal coating the insides of your thighs. 

“Please,” you gasped. 

“Anything for you,” he purred. 

He was moving, stepping back a little and grabbing your hips, pulling them with him, his hand smoothing over your spine to bend you forward, your upper body and hands resting on the glass. 

You felt his hard cock slide through your folds, wetting himself, and then he was notching at your entrance, and you both moaned as he pushed in, the size of him splitting you open. 

Even after doing this countless times before, it still took your breath away with how he stretched you open. He bottomed out, and you felt so full, clenching around him and making him groan. 

“I’ve missed this,” Oberyn said, voice deeper. He leaned forward to kiss your shoulder, his hands holding your hips. “Take me so well.” 

“Move,” you moaned. 

“With pleasure,” he replied. 

He started slow, moving in and out of you, not wanting to rush anything, allowing you both to just enjoy how good it felt. Your mind was a haze of pleasure as he filled you over and over again, his cock sliding against spots that had the muscles tightening in your abdomen, working you up as you moaned and praise spilled from his lips at how good you felt. 

Oberyn knew your body—knew you needed more to get you to your peak. He sped up, long, hard strokes that had your mind blanking, only focused on how good he was making you feel. You were winding tighter, hearing the slap of his hips and the wet sound of your pussy taking him, Oberyn grunting as he moved in and out of you. 

You were getting closer, could feel yourself close to shattering. You were gasping out moans, toes curled, a sheen of sweat all over your body. It was heavenly, loving every moment of having him inside you and being reunited. 

He moved in closer to you, his hips continuing to move, as his hand went to your front, and down to your center, circling your clit with his fingers. His mouth was at your ear, panted breaths tickling it. 

“Are you going to come, my love?” His words coming out breathy and raspy. “Are you going to soak my cock and squeeze me?” You moaned. “I know you’re almost there,” his fingers sped up. “Come for me.” 

That was it. You were coming with a shout of his name, cunt clenching hard, feeling yourself gush around him. Euphoria washed over you, tingling through your limbs, as you felt like you were floating, Oberyn the only thing keeping you standing. 

“That’s it, that’s my good girl.” He kissed your shoulder. “I’m going to fill you with my come, make you drip with me,” he groaned. 

“Yes,” you moaned. 

He started chasing his own high, hips moving faster, his lips on your spine, hearing him grunting with the exertion. It wasn’t long that you felt teeth sink into your shoulder, his hips grinding as he came with a deep rumbling groan you could feel against your back. He spilled inside you, painting your insides as he kept moving, fucking it as deep as possible, until he finally stopped, his lips moving over your skin, kissing you while his hands rubbed along your sides. 

It took you some minutes before you could speak. 

“Your cock is as talented as ever,” you said, the sound coming out breathy. 

He laughed, his hand coming up to turn your head, leaning in to kiss you at the odd angle. 

“I’ll take you to bed and show you just how talented it is,” he said, looking you in the eye, his gaze showing the promise. 

“I hoped you would.” 

“First, I  must tell you something, my love.” 

You frowned. 

“Post-sex confessions? I’m worried.” 

“No, no, this is good news.”

“Okay..?”

“I’m retiring, of sorts.” 

“You're forty-five.” 

He frowned. 

“It wounds me to hear it said out loud.”

“Oberyn, you’re still young and my god, you fuck like you’re in your twenties.”

That made him smile. 

“A talented cock, you said.”

“And tongue,” you added. “While we’re at it, your fingers deserve some recognition, too.”

He moved a hand to your breast, rolling a pebbled nipple between said fingers and making you gasp, eyes closing for a moment. 

“Mmm, yes, my fingers, too.”

“Oberyn,” you looked at him. “We’re getting sidetracked. What did you need to tell me that couldn’t wait for us to be in a location that wasn’t me naked and against a window?”

“Right, sorry, darling.” He gave you a sheepish smile. “I’m stepping down from my position at the winery for Doran’s daughter, Arianne, to take over. I’ll be more of a mentor for a few years, only helping when needed, and then I’ll fully retire.” 

Your lips turned down in a frown, stomach beginning to twist. 

“So, you won’t be traveling?” 

If he didn’t travel, you wouldn’t see him.

His eyebrows furrowed. 

“You are not understanding.” 

“Then explain.” 

“Work will be no more, and I can be with you. Go wherever you go,” he smiled. 

Your eyes rounded.

“What about the girls?” You asked. He had his daughters. 

“The older four are busy with their own lives, and the youngest split their time with Ellaria and me. They’ll be with me some of the time—is that okay?

He looked a little nervous, and you didn’t know why. You’d met his children on multiple occasions and loved them, dearly. Ellaria had even welcomed you with open arms, quite literally. They’d separated the year before Oberyn, and you met but still remained good friends and co-parents. 

“Of course, that’s okay, Oberyn. I love them—you’re a package deal.” 

He smiled brightly, and it took your breath away. 

“I love you,” he said. 

“I love you, too. Wait, does this mean we’re dating?” 

His eyebrows knit together, a confused look on his face. 

“Is that not what we’ve been doing?” 

You laughed. 

“In our own way, I guess. It was a silly question.”

There’d been no one else since Oberyn, and you had a feeling there’d be no one after, either, because he was it for you. 

Masterlist

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[thepalaceofmelanie]

Martell Week- Day 3: Favorite moment.

Tag: @elvinaa @adriennegabriella @wingsoftheangels @morby @tashastrange89 @candycanes19

(A/N: The unnamed OC/ Reader!Stark is back again, cause we love to see it! Well, let’s hope that guy did get some medical attention. TW: Minor PTSD episode.)

Day 3: Favorite moment.

When Oberyn stabbed a mfer!

Song Inspired: “Brand New Numb” by: Motionless In White

I froze up hearing that damn song. “The rains of Castamere” always struck nightmares or daymares into me. Tears started to fall from my eyes as I remember that night. The night the Lannisters came for my Father, the night I became the Bloodwolf.

“Father…” My voice cracked.

Oberyn had enough already; his head turned the sound, looking from Olyver. Ellaria’s head popped up, knowing that Oberyn was going to probably kill someone. Oberyn exited the room. Ellaria and Olyvar not sure what to do at first; but they opted to check on me.

“Love, you need to come back to us. It’s okay, you’re safe.” Ellaria’s voice pleaded.

“My Lady, you need to stop Prince Oberyn.” Olyvar spoke up.

I, thankfully snapped out of it. I grabbed Ellaria’s hand and start to run after Oberyn, Olyaer following behind. I threw Ellaria at Oberyn and the two of us skid to a halt; one arm from each of us, trying to stop him.

“Come back to bed, Lover.” Ellaria spoke.

“My Sun, it’s okay. They’re not worth it!” I pleaded.

Oberyn brushed us away and the brothel workers ran for it; we all knew Oberyn’s reputation as the Red Viper after all. The two Lannister guardsmen watched Oberyn.

“Do you know why all the world hates a Lannister?”

He moved past us and the two Lannister guardsmen got up. Both Ellaria and I were really worried and Olyaer went to get help before this turned ugly. Oberyn made it to one of them.

“You think your gold and old lions, and your gold lions make you better than everyone else.”

The one man Oberyn was in front of only blinked.

“May I tell you a secret? You’re not the golden lion, you’re just a pink little man who’s far too slow on the draw.”

What the hell does that mean?! I look at Ellaria who was looking at the scene, my eyes go back to Oberyn and I felt my heart pounding hard. Ellaria’s hand pulled me over to her. Before the man could draw out his longsword, Oberyn stabbed him in the wrist; the man allotting a loud scream!

I couldn’t help but to laugh; in a way I took some pleasure and happiness; Ellaria looked shocked at me and how I was reacting. Well, they deserve it...after what the did to my family and Elia, I would love nothing more than to kill Tywin and Cersei. The other Lannister guardsman went to pull his sword out but hesitated to. I couldn’t help to laugh when the man screamed in agony.

“Long Sword is a bad option in close quarters. When your friend starts bleeding quite a lot, I’m afraid, so many veins in the wrist.-”

Oberyn’s face looked one of madness and I was enjoying it.

“-He’ll live if you get him help straight away… So decisions.”

If the other guard even moved; I’ll have him down on his back faster than light. Ellaria looked worried about me for a moment.

“Prince Oberyn, forgive the intrusion-” Tyrion Lannister started to say.

Oberyn pulled the dagger from the man’s wrist. The man screamed loudly and I laughed louder.

“Trouble…” He finished.

The two Lannister guardsmen ran off to get a healer.

“Apologies my loves.” Oberyn said.

Oberyn started to kiss Ellaria and I turned to see Tyrion standing there.

“Tyrion?” I asked.

He was shocked to see me. It had been a while since we last saw each other. I leaned down and hugged him, catching attention from Tyrion’s friend and my two lovers behind me.

“How are you?” He asked.

“I’m well, how is my Sister?” I asked.

“She’s safe for now, I promise.” Tyrion told me.

I nodded; I missed Sansa badly. Tyrion looked up at Oberyn and, I stand back over with the them. Tyrion’s expression changed to one of surprise.

“Them? Really?” Tyrion asked.

“It’s a long story, I’m married to Oberyn but I see Ellaria as my wife.” I admitted.

I feel them both take my hands in theirs. Ellaria is my equal, I’ve always saw as such and to hell with what others think. I felt her worry start to vanish, I’m glad. Poor woman looked like she was probably going to faint for a second. But it’s Ellaria Sand, one of the toughest women I know.

“Tell me, something.” I hear Tyrion asked.

“Yes?” I answered.

“That night, what happened to you?” Tyrion asked.

I froze again and tried to keep calm; I have to keep myself in check or a certain secret will be blown. I just shake my head. Oberyn pulled me into his arms.

“She hasn’t even told us yet.” Oberyn told the man.

Tyrion nodded.

“Understandable, I apologize. Prince Oberyn, we need to talk-.”

Tyrion looked at both me and Ellaria.

“Alone.”

“Fine.” I said.

I was just glad to get out of that scene; Ellaria and I go back into the room and I fell onto the bed. She joined me and I hold her. My body was shaking a bit from just the thought of that night. Ellaria kept her eyes on mine.

“Love, are you okay?” Her honey voice asked.

“I’ll be okay, with you two of course. I’m sorry Ellaria, I’m not ready to talk about that night. It was just...painful, okay, very painful!” I tried my best to keep calm.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, take your time. You know me and Oberyn are here for you.” Ellaria hushed me.

Her hand playing with my hair as Oberyn walked in. A look of hurt was on his face knowing that, I was in pain. A look knowing, that in the end, he might not be able to help. I give him a very weak but trying to be okay smile.

I just hope one day I can tell them.

[starstruckunknown-princess]

I Smell Snow

Pairing: Modern! Oberyn Martell x F!Reader

Warnings: None, just fluff!

Word Count: 586

Summary: You have a strange talent for being able to tell when it’s about to snow. When you smell the first snow coming, you insist your boyfriend Oberyn join you to watch the snow fall.

A/N: Fluffcember day 7 (that I forgot to post yesterday cuz I got busy!), and I may or may not have stolen the inspo for this scene directly from an episode of Gilmore Girls...oh, well, it’s cute and fluffy and I love grumpy, cold Oberyn! Enjoy!

“You are insane,” Oberyn grumbled, slouching further into his winter jacket. “I checked the weather, my love, they said it wasn’t going to snow tonight.”

“You know my nose never lies,” you protested, tugging him along with you by your entwined hands. 

It was the middle of the night and you had woken when the familiar smell hit your nostrils. Ozone and chill and snow. You never could describe it, even as a child you’d been able to smell when the snow was about to fall. Growing up in the Riverlands you’d had plenty of chances to test this odd talent.

This was Oberyn’s first time experiencing your ability, much to his dismay. The two of you were visiting your family for the holidays, and the poor Dornishman was unused to the cold. He could hardly remember the last time he’d even seen snow.

But you loved the snow. Every magical moment of your life happened during snowfall. Your first real kiss, your university acceptance letter, the beginning (and merciful end) of your marriage. 

“I still don’t see why you’ve dragged me from my soft, warm bed to stand in the middle of an empty courtyard in the middle of the gods-damned night,” Oberyn continued to pout and you couldn’t help but giggle at him. He looked positively miserable, shrugged back in his puffy winter coat. The tip of his regal nose and his ears were turning pink in the cold, his lips formed into a perfect frown. Underneath his coat he wore his pajamas, that is to say, only his pajama pants because he preferred to sleep topless. You could see the angry regret on his face just as easily as you could see your breaths condensing in the air with every exhale. 

You rose on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “I promise, it’ll be worth it.”

“If I freeze my balls off, I’m holding you responsible.” 

“You balls will be fine,” you said, trying to placate him with a quick squeeze of his hand. 

“You have one more minute out here, then we are going back inside and you will apologize to my frozen balls,” Oberyn tried to come off stern, but you could hear the smirk in his voice. You nodded, but kept your eyes on the starless night sky. “I swear to you, my love, the weather forecast said no snow tonight, maybe not for weeks—” 

His protest was cut off because just then, large white flakes began to fall from the sky. You sighed in delight and let your head fall back. Oberyn’s eyes turned to you, watching you in your joy. How the lights lighting your brother’s courtyard lit up your skin, the slight smile on your lips. You looked like you did when you were having the most wonderful dreams. A rush of affection pulsed through his veins while he took you in. He loved you. He would stand naked as his nameday in the middle of a blizzard north of the North if you wanted him to. 

“I told you,” you said, turning your face toward him, “The nose never lies.” 

Instead of answering, he pulled your face toward his and kissed you as the snow fell harder. His hands were cold against your neck and you squealed at the contact — Oberyn was always warm, he radiated the Dornish sun he was raised under — so his cold hands came as a shock.

“Can we go inside now, love?” he asked, “I need you to warm me up.”

[factorydefaultlu]

thinking of oberyn, ellaria, and their lannister! wife/throuple. we know that oberyn and ellaria are open to other lovers, but lannister! wife is more conservative due to growing up in kings landings. so, she doesn't take up any lovers except them.

one day, she finds oberyn and looks very flustered. she starts apologizes saying she's a bad partner. oberyn finally calms her down and gets her to explain. she kissed the man tutoring her in music (someone oberyn hired to help her invest in her hobby) and she liked it. like a lot.

oberyns just like, "🥰 that's so great bby! we can do a foursome <3" and is just supportive of her getting laid.

Aww

[chaoticgeminate]

Kinktober 2022 - Day Seven

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit (If that was not entirely clear)

Series Summary: You're a fanfiction writer turned novelist, which was great since it was the path you wanted your writing to take you down in life. What you never thought would happen was meeting the Javier Gutierrez, who you actively write smutty fanfiction about from his film with Nic Cage, and you especially didn't expect him to have a crush on you.

Fast forward several months of dating, with a good chunk of your relationship being distance due to his constant traveling and having to go home to Mallorca, when he surprises you with a prompt list and a vacation planned around exploring it.

You haven't even worked up the nerve to tell him about what you write and post to Tumblr about him as a character yet.

Notes: Going to be using prompts from @the-purity-pen for my meta as hell indulgence! There are feelings in this (I have no idea how they got there) and I may end up removing some possible chapters here and there depending on how I'm feeling, I apologize in advance if that happens because my brain is super mean sometimes.

Possible Warnings: Show accurate costumes because Javi has money, food play if you squint

Costumes (1.7k)

“Can I open my eyes yet?”

Javi grunted something softly and uttered a soft ‘no’ before you felt him tug your arms up, you held them still as fabric began to pool down your body until there was some sort of band that he had to adjust your breasts to fit in properly, and you smiled at him tying the back and asking you to make sure you were comfortable. Once you made sure you were fully okay in the dress, he took your hands and fastened something around each of your wrists, making you flex carefully wondering what he was up to.

“Perfect, you look beautiful, lover.”

Javi’s natural accent made the word sound sinful and you felt him maneuvering you somewhere before stopping.

“Now you can look.”

As your eyes opened, his gaze lowered down the very exposed skin in your reflection where he stood behind you, and part of you wondered how much these outfits had cost. Javi made an almost perfect Oberyn Martell, if the Dornish Prince led a touch more relaxed of a life, and the gown Ellaria had worn to the wedding was now on you. His expression darkened as Javi played with the exposed skin and your eyes dropped to his hands, the rings catching the light and catching your attention.

You honestly felt like a magpie or a crow with how attracted to the shine of the metal you were. His eyes met yours in the mirror and he grinned, the boyish look -and his not as dark hair- at odds to the show’s depiction of Oberyn but you didn’t mind so much.

“Now, lover, I have a surprise for you. Come.” He certainly had the strut down, the golden mustard robe emblazoned with suns looked good on him, and you slipped on the boots he’d brought for you before quickly following him down the hall; you slid into the car with him and found the flyer for a local mini-convention folded on the dashboard.

“We’re going to a local con?” You couldn’t hide your excitement if you tried, seeing people in cosplay and all the things that were bound to be up and down artist alley could lighten any sour mood you might be in, and Javi pulled out onto the main road with a chuckle.

“Indeed, I thought you might like it.” You’d nearly dragged him to several local conventions but having so little time with him in person meant that when you did have him you really wanted to spend more time learning about the little things, talking about his dreams and what inspired him, stuff like how he enjoyed his coffee and what his favorite song was.

Leaning over the center console, pressing a sloppy kiss to his cheek, you settled in your seat as you looked over the flyer to get an idea of what to expect.

Parking nearby was actually easy enough and the colorful, vibrant, and amazing cosplays that you were seeing all made you whip your phone out. Eager to ask for pictures, of course, but first you snapped a photo for your socials with you and Javi outside the building. People stopped the both of you to ask for pictures too, posing and talking with nearly everyone, and you did sit in on a panel about self-publishing and the fairly strict copywrite hurdles for converting fanfiction into novels.

Mostly for curiosity sake, but there were some things you were able to learn since you’d thought about getting away from a publishing house.

By the time the convention was over you had plenty of fanart -you hadn’t purposefully looked for fanart of your books, it had just been there- and most of it was signed by fans when they realized who you were. The fact that your books had even gotten this far surprised you, truly, since you’d never expected for any notoriety after publishing. Javi brought you back to the house and led you to the East master wing where it looked like a Game of Thrones style feast had been set up for you both with the balcony doors wide open.

Javi was watching you, waiting for your thoughts on his little surprise, and you grinned as you tugged him gently to sit down on the plush cushions with you.

“Come, lover, I am starving.”

He grinned at your request and you made sure to sit extra close, practically in his lap, and feed him berries so that you could run your fingertips along his lips as you did. Javi’s eyes danced with intent as he began pulling the skirt of your gown up carefully, exposing you bare beneath it -you hadn’t wanted any visible lines- and his mouth opened for another berry while he also slid two of his fingers along your folds.

“Will you feed me while I fuck you with my fingers, mi amor?” Javi’s request made you nod, it wasn’t something you’d ever done or planned to do but the idea was tempting, how well could you control yourself while he did that? Your boyfriend practically moaned in delight as you leaned back to grab a piece of the soft cheese from the tray for him, mindful to avoid it dropping down on or around your lap.

You wanted to be able to have fun, after all, not get some sort of infection because you were careless.

He drew your fingertips in his mouth, to suck on the skin after taking the cube, and you inhaled a deep breath when his fingers slid into you with ease; you’d been turned on all morning just seeing him in costume and now that you had him your body was practically throwing the door open and inviting him in.

He’d posed, flexed, and genuinely became Oberyn Martell today. Kissing you in front of the crowds for the cameras at the request of people wanting photos, even going so far as to pose with you held against him in a way that could be seen as sexual even if it wasn’t. Whispering filth into your ear about how he wouldn’t mind ‘trying to make a sand snake of your own again’ or how he intended to keep you in his bed and worship you.

He'd made you a wet, whimpering, mess before you even left the convention.

Something chilly and metal brushed against you and you realized it was his rings, none had stones on them or any sharp bits to cut you but it had been easy to forget about them while settling in to eat but now you were shivering at the realization that he hadn’t taken them off.

“I noticed you liked the jewelry; you’ve been watching my hands all day. You like this, feeling my rings slide inside you? Or maybe it’s knowing that even if I clean them these will always have the taste of you on them?” You shuddered and honestly your blood was on fire as he hooked his fingers inside you, his mouth falling open for another bite of food, and you nearly dropped the grape you’d taken when he circled your clit before sinking those wet digits back into you so deep, and Javi took the fruit from you gently before his thumb slid up your wet folds to press against your clit.

But you nearly choked when what he’d said registered, the line was right out of an Oberyn and reader story you had written, and your orgasm slammed through you hearing it in Javi’s husky voice.

He kissed you deep and slow, bringing you down as you shuddered against him, and Javi laid you back on the cushions with a smile.

“Javi?”

“Yes?” He was nipping at your chin, leaving kisses as he dragged his face against yours, you didn’t really know how to voice what you wanted to ask him though.

“What you said, about your jewelry? Was that- you picked it on purpose didn’t you?” His eyes met yours and he chuckled, nipping at your ear as he draped himself beside you, lounging like a Prince with no worries.

“It is from a story I’ve read; I’ll tell you more about it later.”

Either he was toying with you or he hadn’t figured out your Tumblr identity and you didn’t know which choice was worse.

Or how much longer you could go without telling him and not feel a little creepy about it.

But Javi stole into your mouth with a kiss, taking you out of your head and luring your focus back on him, and he was intense as he cupped both sides of your face to angle you how he wanted you while one of your hands fumbled with the etched belt he had on his waist. He arched his back so you could pull the belt out from under him and toss it aside, tugging at the robe to open it as he tugged at the ties on his placket.

You’d only just managed to get the robe open and his cock out before Javi was tugging you over his hips and making you sink down on him, your head thrown back with a whimper as he planted his feet and rolled his hips up. Planting your hands on either side of his head and raising your hips, panting as he grabbed at your hips to pull you back down onto him, your toes curled as you dropped down to kiss him.

It was frantic and Javi wasn’t letting you slow down at all, hips driving up to meet you as you dropped down on him.

“Look at you, lover, so beautiful as I fuck you like this. All I could think about today was this, was knowing you were bare and wet under this gown just for your Prince.” You might’ve laughed if not for the punch of his hips, for the way he was dragging his mouth across your jaw to nibble at your chin, and one hand pressed against your lower back instead of your hips so that the angle let him fuck into you deeper.

You were getting closer and closer to coming, to shattering, and his breathing was erratic in your ear; the muscles in your thighs trembling.

“Soak me, lover.” His breathless plea was enough, the raspy wheeze of the words in your ear sending you over the edge, and he was peppering your face with kisses as you breathed from how hard you came around him. Javi held you there, the pair of you just letting your breathing and heartrate slow, but the soothing hold of his hands taking your face made you smile against his mouth.

“Te amo, Solecita.”

“Te amo, mi amor.”

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