#oberyn x ellaria x you

[lowlights]

Sweet Reds and Starlight Mornings

Sweet Reds and Starlight Mornings

Oberyn x f!reader, Ellaria x f!reader, heavily implied Oberyn x Ellaria x f!reader

Length: 3.3k

Warnings: Smut, a bit of wlw, mentions of group sex, heavy on the food play, everything gets sticky, everyone has bi switch energy, mentions of alcohol, a little bit of anxiety/worry, Feelings, praise kink, PinV sex, creampie, lots of cumplay, cum eating, a moment of breeding kink, f!receiving oral, it's implied that reader had a hard life.

Summary: The newest artist-in-residence at the Dornish palace, you have become a permanent fixture in the bed of Prince Oberyn and his paramour Ellaria. You reach a turning point on a very special night.

Happy belated birthday, @starlightmornings!! I know this is way late, but I hope the story makes up for it. This was a fic of many firsts for me- first time really writing Oberyn! First time writing wlw! First time with food play. ILY!!

**

You shouldn’t feel so nervous. You have been in here more times than you can count on both hands. 

But not alone. Never alone. 

You arranged your barely-there dress just so while you waited on the expansive bed. Ellaria had instructed you to come after dinner to Oberyn’s quarters, which was certainly not an odd ask. But she had asked that you wear a certain garment… and to come alone. These requests were highly unusual, but you would do anything that she and Oberyn asked of you. Without question. 

The palace had only been your home for a few months and had quickly become your safe haven. This had very little to do with the comfortable living conditions and abundant food, and almost everything to do with the Prince and his adoring paramour, Ellaria. You were a new artist-in-residence for the royal family of Dorne and spent your days creating beautiful things. 

You spent many of your nights between the arms of your lovers. 

Your lovers who, at present, were nowhere to be seen. Nor were any of the other usual attendants or other guests who would be spending the evening.

The dress Ellaria had requested you wear was one of her own, something you had only seen her don but once. It was made of a see-through gauze that would scandalize even the most progressive residents of Dorne. It had intricately thin knotting decorating the shoulders and was slit all the way up both thighs. The soft yellow at the top of the garment faded into a deep orange that trailed behind you when you walked the empty hallway to their bedroom. 

It was the most beautiful thing you had ever worn, a far cry from the drab clothing of your previous life. Just as you started to relax into the pillows, the wide door swung open. Oberyn walked into the room first, followed by Ellaria who had her hands over his eyes. Both wearing golden tunics, they lit up the room like twin suns in the sky. 

“Lover, I have a gift for you,” she cooed to him, shaking her head gently as you opened your mouth to speak. 

“Please, do not keep me waiting in such suspense, Ellaria.” 

She removed her hands and wrapped her arms around him. “Behold!” 

He looked at you lasciviously. “You’ve brought me my starlight? What a gift, indeed. But it is not my naming day.”

“No,” she said, “But it is hers.” She pressed a kiss to his shoulder before gliding over towards you. 

Oberyn smiled at you before walking over to the wine on the far side of the room. “Ah, I see. We must celebrate then.” 

Ellaria crawled across the bed to you, never breaking eye contact. You spread your legs to accommodate her, bending your knees up and reaching out for her. She leaned her cheek against your palm and ran her hands up your smooth legs. She nodded in approval, noticing the gift of oils she had left in your bath the night before had been put to use. It made your stomach flutter. 

“What do you have in store for us this evening, my love?” Oberyn sauntered over to the bed holding three goblets of sweet Dornish red wine. He placed them down on the bedside table and stood next to you while Ellaria leaned down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. You tangled one hand in her dark brown curls and reached out with your other hand to Oberyn. 

“My Prince.” You gasped a little when Ellaria sucked on your earlobe. 

Oberyn pressed his lips to the back of your hand. “Starlight, what have I told you about calling me that?” 

“Not to do it, my Prince,” you said with a mischievous grin. 

Ellaria’s mouth trailed down your chest, kissing over your nipple. You could feel everything through the fabric; it was as though you were wearing nothing but liquid sunlight. Her mouth felt divine as you arched against her. 

“She is hopeless,” Ellaria said with a knowing glance at Oberyn. “But as it is her naming day, I suppose she should do whatever she pleases.” With one last kiss, Ellaria pushed off the bed and stood next to Oberyn. His hands went immediately to her, as they always did. 

They both stared at you with unabashed desire. It felt overwhelming to be at the center of their combined attention, but you had never felt more wanted and more safe than you did with them. You let one leg drop, opening up a veiled view of your cunt to them. You wondered if the material was already stained with the wetness you felt between your thighs. 

“Well then, we should not make her wait,” Oberyn said, pushing down the sleeve of Ellaria’s dress and kissing her exposed shoulder. 

Ellaria pushed her sleeve back up and shook her head. “I have gone to great lengths to ensure that you will be unbothered until the banquet tomorrow night. I have had my time alone with her previously. Now, it is your turn.” 

Anticipation bubbled up in your chest. You have never even been alone in the same room with Oberyn, never mind in his bed. She bid you both farewell with a promise to return in the morning to rejoin you, whispered something into Oberyn’s ear, and took a goblet of wine with her as she exited. 

“My Prince, are you alright without her? I could ask her to return,” you offered. 

He shook his head. “She will return to us when the sun rises. For now, I want to make sure the last hours of your name day are filled with ecstasy and indulgence.” 

This was a proposal with which you could not argue. Oberyn smiled at you before removing his tunic, letting your eyes take in the wide expanse of his strong back as he walked back to the table of food. By the light of the torches, he looked as though he had been molded from the softest sunlight; like the golden glow that filters through the forest trees at dusk. 

Oberyn took his time at the table and you grew hungry for him. “Will you be coming to bed, Highness, or should I rest my eyes for the next few hours?” 

He turned, hands full, with a bemused expression. “Who is this needy creature before me? Certainly, she is not the timid woman who has inhabited my bed these weeks prior.” He placed a bowl of ripe berries, a bowl of deep red plums, and a small lidded jar down on the bedside table. 

“I miss your touch,” you pouted. He sat down on the bed and leaned over you, caressing your cheek. You curled into him like a lazy housecat, resting your head on his clothed thigh. “Did you miss me at all, my Prince?” 

“Call. Me. Oberyn,” he scolded before kissing your nose. 

“Did you miss me, my Oberyn?” 

His hand wandered down your back, cupping your ass through your dress. “I always miss my starlight when she is away from me. Now, tell me. How would you like me tonight? Your wish is my only command.” 

You bit your lip in thought. You’ve experienced the prince in many ways over the past months, each position feeling better than the last as you got familiar with each other’s bodies. The pressure of choosing weighed heavy on you, and it must have read on your face as well. 

“This is meant to bring you pleasure, little one, not to bring you torture,” he said. 

“I am having a hard time choosing, Oberyn. I…I want everything with you,” you confessed, cheeks burning. The affection the two of you shared was hardly new, and Oberyn was never shy with his adoration, but you were dangerously close to confessing what had been on your heart for a long time. 

Oberyn’s face softened. “And I want everything with you, starlight. We have tonight to begin, and a lifetime of nights after this one if we so choose. There are no limits other than those we place on ourselves.” 

You nodded, breathing a sigh of relief. 

“Lie back,” he instructed, leaning over to the bowl of berries. “Open.” 

You obeyed, opening your mouth just enough for him to slip a succulent blackberry between your lips. You sucked gently on his finger, eliciting a smile. You swallowed when he told you to and he grinned as he indulged in a berry himself.

“Again.” 

You took another berry into your mouth, sucking harder this time. 

“Swallow. Good girl.”

His praise was like a bolt of lightning to your core- he had never called you that before. It felt good to know that he was pleased with you, especially when he took control like this. Oberyn leaned down to kiss you, his tongue immediately swiping against your lips. You opened to him immediately, wrapping your arms around his bare shoulders. He moaned when you dragged your fingernails across his back, just hard enough that they might leave a mark for Ellaria to find in the morning. 

“Do you hunger for more?” he whispered against your lips, drawing you up with him as he sat upright. 

“Yes, always more of you,” you replied. 

“First you must eat a bit more, to sustain yourself for the night,” Oberyn explained as he plucked a large plum from the bowl. He stared at you as he bit into the purple-hued fruit before offering you the next taste. He shook his head when you reached for it. 

“Like this,” he instructed, tilting your chin up gently and leaving your neck exposed. You bit into the fruit as it was offered to you and immediately felt the sweet juice cascade down your chin and into the hollow of your throat. No harvest could ever compare to that of the stone fruits grown just for the palace in Dorne; they were more magnificent than any you had ever tasted before.

Alternating between wet kisses and soft licks, Oberyn followed the tracks of juice across your skin. You tangled your hands in his hair and tugged gently. 

“Tell me something,” you began. 

“Yes, my starlight?” 

“What did Ellaria whisper to you as she left?” 

Oberyn helped you settle back into the pillows and stood up, untying the strings at the front of his pants. “She told me to make a mess of you, and that dress.” 

Your core ached at Ellaria’s words and you watched with bated breath as he quickly relieved himself of the rest of his clothes. He took his half-hard cock into his hand and languidly stroked as he tilted his head in thought. 

“That garment leaves little to the imagination,” he said. 

You arched your back slightly, showing off the press of your tits against the fabric. “Do you wish for me to be more covered?” you asked coyly. 

“Hardly. I am fighting the urge to lean down and rip it off of your perfect body myself.” He joined you on the luxuriously soft bed. 

Oberyn might be known as the Red Viper to the rest of the world, but his actions in the bedroom were more akin to that of a lion. He moved with an effortless fluidity that served him well both in the arena and in the bedroom, and while the two had very different outcomes, both involved him stalking his prey with precision. Even when Oberyn occasionally submitted himself to his amorous partners, he still exuded a cunning command of every toned muscle in his body. 

“Oberyn,” you purred into his ear, replacing his hand on his cock with your own, “I want to ride you.” 

“By all means, make me your stallion.” 

Oberyn kept you steady as you straddled him, pushing the flimsy material of your dress out of the way so that you could slowly sink down on his thick cock. It was always an adjustment to take all of him, and he mercifully kept his body still until he felt your walls relax. You let out a deep sigh and closed your eyes, relishing in the fullness that slowly drifted from discomfort to contentment. 

“You are so tight for me, always so tight. Take whatever you need from me, my starlight, when you are ready,” he told you, squeezing your thighs in encouragement. Balancing your hands on his chest, you started rocking your hips back and forth. 

“Gods, Oberyn. You are so…so big,” you moaned. 

“Do you feel me deeply, starlight?” he asked, guiding your hips in their movement. He must be able to feel that your skin is seconds away from combusting into a thousand embers. 

“So…so…gods, Oberyn,” you gasped as he thrust up into you, making your hips stutter. You fell forward, desperate for his mouth on yours as though he were the only source of oxygen in the room. In a way, he was. You are not sure when it happened, either, this gradual pull towards him and Ellaria becoming stronger and stronger. A moth to two flames, they were all you craved. 

They were in every piece of art you created. Every fleck of paint, every splash of ink in every poem, every soft curve of every sculpture. They were music and sunshine and the taste of decadent wine on your tongue. They were safety, exploration, and love. 

You thought that they might love you back. 

The way Oberyn was looking at you at this moment, you believed it as well. 

“You look so beautiful like this.” His hands roamed your thighs and up to your hips. “How beautiful you would look round with my child, should you ever choose.” 

Your hips faltered as desire shot through your veins. He had never spoken of this before.  “R-really?” 

In a flash, Oberyn flipped you onto your back and thrust into you with vigor. “If you wanted, I would give you a dozen of my children to carry. Fill you up every night until the maester declares you with child.”

“Now,” you gasped. “I want it now. Please, please.”  

Pleasure coursed through your body. He knew every angle to hit and took delight in watching you fall apart under him when he adjusted his hips just so. Every drag of his cock brought you closer to the edge, and when he licked his fingers and reached down to rub your clit- you were gone. 

The world exploded behind your eyes as you cried out his name, squeezing down tightly on him. He followed right after, belly tight and eyes closed, as he filled up your warm pussy with his cum. Maybe it would produce a child and maybe it wouldn’t, but you didn’t care. All you knew is that you were his now, forever and completely. 

Oberyn collapsed with his leg slung over yours, lazily kissing you through the afterglow of each other’s orgasms. 

Even in your blissful state, there was still a bit of uncertainty eating you up inside, a relic of a past that had not been kind to you before you arrived in Dorne. “My Prince, I-” 

“You still call me that even after we give each other such pleasure?” 

“Sorry. Oberyn. I’m…my worry sometimes gets the best of me.” 

He gathered you up in his arms so that you could rest your cheek upon his chest. “You can call me anything you want, my starlight, so long as you never do it in fear.” 

You snuggled against him and inhaled the scent of his spicy, sweaty skin. “I meant it when I said I want everything with you, Oberyn.” 

“I want everything with you, too. And everything from you. Every last moment of pleasure I can wring from that gorgeous body. Lie on your back, starlight,” he commanded, grabbing the jar from the table before kneeling between your open legs. “Time to make a mess of this pretty dress as I promised.” 

You gasped when Oberyn grabbed at your neckline and gently pulled apart the dress. It tore like it was made of the oldest, thinnest paper. He let it pool around you and gazed at you as though you were one of his favorite paintings. The night breeze wafted past the curtains and tickled your exposed skin. Oberyn couldn’t resist trailing a finger across the goosebumps that blossomed across your belly and chest, smiling at the noises you made when he pinched your nipple. 

“Have you tasted the honey from the royal apiary? Only a handful of bottles are produced a year, and it is the most exquisite color.” He dipped his index finger into the jar and scooped out the glistening, dark amber honey. 

“It’s gorgeous, Oberyn,” you said, transfixed as he let it slide down his hand and across your stomach. It felt warm against your skin. 

“It tastes even better, you must try it,” he replied, slowly letting it drizzle across your breasts. When only a tiny bit remained on his finger, he brushed the honey across your lips. “Open.” 

You sucked hard on his finger, cheeks hollowing out and never breaking eye contact. “So sweet.” 

He grinned. “I think you would find something even more delicious.” He dragged his wet finger back through the honey that had dripped down your tits and across your stomach, gathering the sweet nectar before gently pushing his finger into your cunt. You wanted him to stay there, to keep that thickness inside of you. But instead, he collected the remnants of your combined spend and brought it back up to your lips. 

Your tongue was tentative at first, darting out to taste the mixture of cum and honey. To your own surprise, it tasted divine. You sucked greedily on his finger and relished in the taste of him and of your own arousal. It was a debaucherous sensation and you loved every bit of it. 

Oberyn had shown some measure of restraint until this moment, but seeing how much you loved the taste made him become dangerously close to feral. He pulled his finger out of your mouth and kissed you deeply, letting his tongue tangle with your own. 

He kissed down your body as though he meant to clean you himself, swirling around your honey-soaked nipples and down across your soft belly. Between the honey and his saliva, it was sticky. But the gods both new and old couldn’t have pulled him off of you even if they tried-not that you would let them. He settled between your legs, pushing your thighs wide. 

“Beautiful,” he murmured before licking your cunt as though he meant to devour it. 

“O-oberyn...my...love…right there,” you called out, holding him against you. It didn’t take long for his tongue to bring you swiftly to your orgasm. He drank up every bit of it. 

Finally, when you couldn’t take another exquisite moment, you pulled him back up to you. His chin was sticky and wet; he had never looked more pleased with himself. You, on the other hand, weren’t sure that you could move your legs if you tried. 

“You made a mess,” you said as you caught your breath. 

“We made a mess,” he countered. 

“Fine, we made a mess. The sheets are all but ruined,” you bemoaned. 

Oberyn chuckled. “Hardly the first time. It will be taken care of while we are in the bath.” 

Your ears perked up. “Bath?” 

Oberyn kissed your forehead. “Of course. We must clean ourselves before we indulge further, and certainly before Ellaria returns.” 

You looked at him with hope shining in your eyes. “Maybe we can have a bit more fun while we are bathing?” Another first that you and Oberyn would have together. You felt a little silly, asking if he would have you as though he didn’t just make you climax with his face buried between your legs. But it wasn’t just about a bath- it was about having more. A future. 

He propped you up on a stack of pillows before reaching for the two remaining goblets of sweet wine. You both clinked them together before taking a welcomed sip. 

“Of course, my starlight. Anything you want, today and every day.” 

[wardenparker]

Mysterious Masquerade, part 1

Oberyn Martell x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 15.5k Warnings: Food/alcohol, cursing, flirting and sexy themes. Discussions of financial situations and economic hardship that might make some readers uncomfortable, but I promise it all ends well. Summary: There is no way that you or your best friend could have known that crashing the big Martell family Halloween masquerade would change your lives forever. Notes: Sugar Daddy Oberyn was just calling my name, what can I say?

It's opulence at its best. Silken black and purple fabrics drape the walls and reflect the shimmers back from the ornate wall sconces that light the ballroom. Women and men, scantily clad and their faces are covered black lace demi masks carry trays of succulent hors d'oeuvres and crisp, bubbly champagne. The contortionist twins breathing fire from a raised platform is in the middle of the ballroom, surrounded by dancing couples. The revelers are high spirited, dressed to impress despite their faces being covered, anonymity and the freedom to be whomever they wish tonight. The Martell Annual Halloween Masquerade is an undeniable success and the evening is still young.

“I can’t believe we actually got in!” You hiss, clutching your best friend’s hand as the two of you pass through the lavish ballroom. This mansion must be as old as the fabled Martell family itself, though no one quite knows how old that really is. The history has been mired in so much fable that they’re just part of the fabric of the city at this point.

When she had come to you with extravagant costumes and flimsy masks with this plan of crashing the annual Halloween party that was so legendary that the musicians were famous headliners and the food was prepared by celebrity chefs? You had balked. You had insisted that staying home and watching a slasher marathon with snacks and boozy autumnal cocktails was enough.

But she was totally right to think she could pull this off, apparently.

Oberyn watches from the balcony above, satisfied as he watches couple dance and drink. His own glass of champagne in his hand and he takes a sip. "Lover." He smiles, turning to find the dark, kohl lined eyes of his paramour watching him from behind the edges of her elaborate mask. He hated the masks himself, but it was part tradition, part relief. If he was not discovered, he could shrug off the trappings of his name and reputation for the night. Every other day he enjoys his title of the Red Viper, but for some reason tonight it doesn't seem appropriate. He hums, slowly taking in the beautiful view of her costume, the slinky fabric enhancing her lithe form. "Ellaria." He coos. "You look stunning."

“I should hope so.” She agrees, the sultry swing of her hips enhancing the movement of the shimmering dress. She’s dressed as Cleopatra, but without a single thought to any kind of accuracy. “I am stitched into the thing, thread by thread. Whomever I take to bed tonight had better have a seam ripper.”

He chuckles. “I’m surprised you haven’t already picked them out.” He teases. “There are so many choices.”

"Everyone I have danced with so far has been boring," she frowns dramatically. "But it is early." Ellaria enjoys the process of choosing less than Oberyn does. Once she finds someone that captures her attention, she likes to then explore that one, single option. Oberyn vastly prefers the game of cat and mouse with his temporary lovers.

"I am sure someone will catch your pretty eyes." He reaches up and pinches her chin playfully. "The party is a success." He hums, looking back around the room and spying a new set of attendees arriving.

“It always is.” She never doubts his ability to make sure those around him enjoy themselves, but Ellaria leans in to kiss him and lovingly tugs at the waist of his costume to nudge him along. “Go and mingle, lover. Bask in your guests’ enjoyment. Find a girl or boy to take upstairs.” She winks, and plants one last kiss on his lips. “Or both.”

He smirks and knows that he will find someone. He always does. "Have fun." He winks at her and pushes away from the balcony, interested to see the new arrivals. Even though they are masked, he doesn't believe he knows them.

“This champagne probably cost more than my entire outfit,” you murmur, sipping the glass as the two of you wade through the crowd. There is food everywhere and a huge band on stage, and a rumor that some big international singer would be here tonight. If you listened to the radio more you would probably have recognized the name.

Oberyn moves through the crowd, his eyes on the pair of ladies as they sip champagne and gawk at the surroundings. Obviously not used to the parties that are thrown here. It amuses him, all the security he has and he has been the one to find a pair of party crashers.

“This is the fanciest party I’ve ever seen.” Your friend breathes, eyes wide as she beholds the absolute pinnacle of luxury: an entire table full of multiple levels of charcuterie. “If I die tonight, make sure we have one of these at my funeral.”

“Same.” You swear solemnly, squeezing her head before you bust out in giggles.

"It is better to eat it than stare at it." Oberyn leans over one lady's shoulder and murmurs his comment. "Although it is almost as delectable as you two this evening."

Your flapper dresses jingle and swing when you both startle, turning inwardly to face the man who has come up between you. Dressed in a gleaming white and gold Roman soldier costume, he looks absolutely resplendent. It’s all you can do to swallow instead of stare, but your best friend answers. “Sometimes you just have to appreciate a thing of beauty.”

"I appreciate beauty in all forms," Oberyn agrees, taking your hand and clasping in his, "and yet I find myself captivated." You are beautiful, even with half of your face covered and he knows he has never met you before.

"You have excellent taste." Your friend blows you a kiss and sashays away, leaving you breathless and frozen with your hand held in this handsome new acquaintance's. You'll kick her ass for abandoning you later, right now you're trying to remember how to do anything but stare. He's handsome and broad, with sharp angles to his jaw and thick biceps shown off nicely by the tunic he's wearing.

"I have always believe that to be true." He has no problems with his own sense of self-esteem, men and women fall at his feet when they meet him. This however, is a challenge because it is obvious that you do not recognize him.

"Always?" His voice sounds vaguely familiar but you can't place it -- then again, why would you recognize the voice of anyone here? It isn't as though you run in the kind of circles that would have gotten you invited to this party. You did have to crash, after all. "Then you must have some very interesting choices to make."

He hums and turns you towards the table. "Life is full of choices." He muses. "It is all in what whets your appetite at the time." He pics up a prosciutto wrapped melon slice. Holding it up to your lips as an offering.

Is this how rich people flirt? The thought flits across your mind just only a millisecond before you open your mouth, accepting the bite out of curiosity as much as obedience. Feeding people can be a love language. It certainly is for your family, so you're no stranger to being offered things to try. "Sometimes you have to try more than one thing to find precisely where your tastes lie," you reply politely, when the cured ham is delicious but the melon not quite to your taste.

He chuckles, guaging that it wasn't your favorite and he decides that something sweeter is more in line with your tastes. "Absolutely" He agrees, picking up a chocolate ganache and cream puff pastry and offers it to you. "Tasting everything you can is one of the few true pleasures in life."

"Something tells me you've sampled everything you possibly can." It isn't a judgement, but this time when you open your mouth you feel just a touch more playful about it. Is it a little weird? Sure. But between this guy's physique and his accent, you don't need to see his whole face to know he's easily the hottest guy you've ever flirted with.

The cream puff is creamy and sweet but the dark chocolate is just a touch bitter, which is nice but still not quite hitting the mark for you. "What is your favorite thing here? Don't try to guess mine."

That is easy for him. Picking up a fig and rosemary cracker, he selects a slice of creamy bree and tops it with a plump blackberry before picking up the little honey comb wand from a small pot of honey to drizzle over the top of it all. When the bite is assembled, he turns to hand it to you. "Take a sip of your champagne after the bite." He instructs.

This is more like it. The bite is towering, imposing, and mouthwatering, and when requires commitment rather than a dainty or demure nibble. You go in without hesitation, moaning happily as each individual flavor bursts on your tongue and then melds together into something brilliantly harmonious. The champagne finish is like a crescendo -- the last unexpected peak of the roller coaster ride that you weren't quite expecting. By the time you finish it, you're giggling. "That's amazing," you commend, dabbing a touch of loose honey away from the corner of your mouth.

"It is." He smiles, enjoying your enjoyment of the bite he had made. He takes a sip of his own glass and hums. "Fresh and sweet, with a hint of savory."

"Complex." You commend, wondering if that is also his taste in partners. "Depth is important."

"What would be your choice?" He asks, curious to see what you view as the perfect bite.

A self-proclaim charcuterie enthusiast, you apply yourself to the table with aplomb, and compose a bite using a crusty round of puff pastry, a triangle of sharp and salty gruyere, sweet unctuous apricot jam, and a shard of crispy serrano pepper to top it all off. This is offered to him with absolute confidence, knowing that you have converted a hell of a lot of your friends to understanding the value in good ingredients with this very bite. "Try this."

He tilts his head at the offering, but he takes it with a small smirk. "I have to admit, I am charmingly surprised by the pepper." He says before he pops the bite into his mouth and chews cautiously, tasting the flavors as they burst on his tongue.

"Heat is an underrated aspect of many different things in life," you assert, watching his eyes flutter shut to enjoy the full experience. That's enough to let you know you've convinced him.

“Heat is just another word for passion.” He agrees after swallowing. “It is good that I enjoy it.”

"I had a feeling you might." He gives off that aura, anyway. Even if this is just a character he's put on for tonight, he's wearing it very well.

Oberyn asks your name. “I don’t believe I have seen you around before.” He coos. “I would have remembered a woman as passionate as you.”

"Daisy," you tell him, pulling the first flapper name you can possibly think of out of your mind, grateful you can remember the name of the love interest in The Great Gatsby off the top of your head.

He knows immediately that it is not your real name, but he appreciates the game you are starting. “Marcus Acacius.” He introduces himself, bowing slightly. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Daisy.”

“Ought I to call you ‘General’?” Appreciative that he is willing to play the game, you offer him a curtsy in turn.

“Only in bed.” He chuckles.

"Noted," you agree, laughing along with him.

Your glass is nearly empty, so the next time a man wearing nothing more than a g-string and a mask walks around with a tray of glasses, he snags a fresh one for you. His eyes watching the man’s ass as he walks off before smirking at you. “The servers are all…stimulating, are they not?”

"They are a beautiful part of the decor." It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that he likes the view, so you aren't going to point out that it's more than a little exhibitionist. For you, putting someone so utterly on display is hit or miss. But you've convinced yourself that they're all okay with it to make yourself more comfortable.

“Do you not like them?” He tilts his head, curiously by the slight pause in your answer. It’s no secret that his parties - while infamous - have never been photographed. People speculate and those invited never tell.

"Oh, it's not that I don't appreciate the beauty of a bare body," you rush to explain. Have you hit a nerve? Did he help design the party or something? "I guess I just...enjoy the reveal. Taking a lover to bed and getting to see their body bared for me bit by bit? It's the appetizer to the feast that will last all night."

“I see.” He can appreciate your honesty. “And you like to feast? Choosing a lover and hoping they do not disappoint you?” He smirks. “You would not like to have line of naked men line up, cocks hard while you choose which one you wish to ride?”

Alright, so it's not like you've never watched that kind of porn, but you take a sip from your fresh glass of champagne and shrug. "I can't say that I've ever had the chance. So I don't know."

“I am sure you would just need to ask.” He turns back to the table to pick up a few grapes. “A gorgeous woman like you would have her pick. Unless you prefer the touch of a woman?”

"You seem to be very talented at asking questions specifically on things I've never tried," you admit. In an uncharacteristically bold move, you take the grape directly from his fingers when he offers it. The offers at the charcuterie table seem to have given you a bit of extra confidence. "But what about you? Do you enjoy every offer you get? That would be both unusual and commendable."

“There have been some offers that I have declined.” Oberyn admits easily. “But I think that is normal for everyone, no?”

“I think so.” You both sip your drinks, letting the moment settle around you, and give your attention to the stage when the music changes. A new singer has been introduced and the crowd is clapping wildly around you.

Oberyn watches as the famous performer walks up onto the stage. Her appearance here was a personal favor to him, although he had insisted on paying her. He would never have it said that he took advantage. “Have you watched her perform live before?” He asks, watching you frown in confusion as you try to figure out who she is.

“I…don’t get out much,” you admit, by way of saying ‘no’. Work-life balance has long been negated by the sheer desire to keep a roof over your head and food in the refrigerator, so you haven’t been to a live anything in years.

He hums and gestures towards the stage. “Then you should enjoy this.” He takes a sip of his champagne and sets it down. “Shall we get closer?”

His formality doesn’t make him any less of an intriguing or welcoming presence, and when he sets his glass down and offers you his arm, you can’t resist. It might be the first time ever that a man has offered you his arm like a gentleman.

Oberyn knows the best place to watch and he guides you towards it. “So Daisy, have you attended many of the Red Viper’s parties?” He asks. “Or is this your first time?”

“Oh, this is definitely a first.” The place he brings you to is to the side of the stage directly at the front, and the singer is both obviously talented and obviously committed to putting on a show. While a lot of people are still dancing, at least half the party has stopped to watch. “You?”

“Practically every one.” He replies without irony. It’s actually more of a challenge of you don’t recognize him.

“I can’t imagine missing this if you could help it.” The opulence and beauty of what you’ve seen so far are beautiful. If you could, you would certainly be here all the damn time.

Another tray of champagne is brought around and Oberyn looks over at your half-drunk glass. “Do you want another, or are you content for the moment?”

“I’m okay right now.” The last thing you want to do is drink too much and get sloppy or embarrass yourself. The risk of getting discovered as a party crasher is high enough as it is. “But don’t let be stop you.”

“I actually prefer to drink wine over champagne.” He admits, motioning the server over. “Please bring a bottle of the Dornish red and two glasses.” He instructs.

The waiter obeys him instantly and you watch with barely disguised surprise. The authority in his voice just is that commanding, and your mind flits momentarily back to the half-joke that he should only be called general in bed.

“You must try it.” He insists. “Even if you don’t have much. The Dornish red is perhaps the best vintage of wine you will ever have.”

“It’s always on everyone’s lists of best wine in the world.” The lists you read while you buy your cheap yet delicious bottle of Chilean red. “I’ve…I admit, I’ve always wanted to try it.”

“Then you are in for a treat.” He murmurs. “You know the Martell estate produces the wine, no?” He loves to talk about his family, but he’s careful to frame it has interesting facts. “It’s been made here for over four hundred years.”

"It's supposed to be wonderful." You do know that much, even if you've never had the opportunity to try it. "Do you..." About to ask him if he works on the vineyard judging from the pride in his voice, you decide to pivot. Not knowing is more fun. "Do you find it a favorite?"

“It is.” He doesn’t tell you that he’s been drinking this wine since he was a child, knowing that would make things too obvious. The intrigue about you is tickling his curiosity. “What is yours?”

"It's low brow compared to Dornish red." Where most people are truly giving their undivided attention to the singer, you've continued your conversation. The idea that he finds you just as interesting as a pop star is flattering to say the least. "There is a Chilean label called Casillero del Diablo that I love." Feeling self conscious, you shrug your shoulders and laugh. "It tastes fancy without breaking the bank. That's good enough for me."

“Casillero is a good wine.” He nods, finding it amusing that you would be self conscious because what a wine costs. “I have had many a bottle myself. It is especially good with an exceptional paella.”

"I'll have to give that a try." Not that you've ever tried to make paella in your entire life, but Casillero has made your meat sauce taste the best it's ever been.

The server that was sent for the Roman General's bottle has returned, and approaches the two of you through a crowd with his gleaming tray carrying a bottle with two glasses. He offers your companion a flirtatious smile and you a wink, making you wonder if everyone at this party is just here to flirt with everyone else.

“Good man.” Oberyn praises, approving of the bottle already being opened and allowed to breathe. Scooping up one of the glasses, Oberyn pours a small taster of it, giving it the requisite sniff and small taste before he pours a larger quantity in the glass and offers it to you. “Unless you would prefer to not drink after me?” He asks.

"I don't mind." It feels bold and a little sexy. Flirtatious, just like everyone else at the party. "You say it's your favorite? Then I'm sure it will be sinful."

His eyes light up, enjoying how forward you are with a coy smile. “It is delicious.” He agrees as he pours himself a glass.

The first sip bursts on your tongue with deep cherry and juicy plum tones wrapped in the smoky tones of the aging barrel. Something subtle untied it that you can’t quite place and you hum happily as the first beautiful taste warms your throat. “It’s incredible.”

“Hmmmm.” He takes his own sip. “It’s like tasting a beautiful woman for the first time.”

That is just a touch more bold than you ever would have even thought to be, and your eyes widen as you take your second sip. It takes all the effort in the world not to do a spit take out of sheer surprise, but you have a feeling that that was somehow the point of the comment.

He smirks when he sees your eyes widen behind the mask and he wants to ask your opinion on that, but he doesn’t. Instead he just watches you with a growing hunger, aware that despite Ellaria normally picking her lover first, he had found who he wishes to take to bed.

Aside from being delicious, the wine is fairly strong, and you slowly sip your glass while the singer performs on stage. She's wonderful, of course, and after a few songs you have never heard before there is finally one you recognize your best friend playing – which makes your eyes scan the crowd wondering if you can find her. Wherever she is in the room, she must be geeking out.

******

“You are so sweet.” Ellaria coos, stroking her finger down the young woman’s face. “Would you like to meet her after she is done singing?”

Lizzy's eyes widen the same way yours did over the comment from Oberyn about the wine, though neither of you know the irony in your reactions being identical and at nearly the same time. "You could—could do that?" She asks, wondering who this woman is who had swept her up in a dance only a few moments ago.

“Of course I could.” She smirks and winks at her playfully. “She is a close friend of mine.” She admits and reaches for another glass of champagne to drink.

"Who are you?" Lizzy breathes in wonder, staring at the gorgeous woman who came into her orbit like a whirlwind and continues to swirl and shine.

Her laughter is soft, yet powerful. A woman who is truly comfortable in her own skin and the power she wields. “Tonight, call me your fairy godmother, darling.” She teases, leaning in and kissing her lips softly. “Watch the performance. I am sure Trinity would love to hear feedback.”

"What feedback could I possibly give?" The absolute wonder on her face is enough, and both women are grinning for entirely separate reasons as they turn back to the stage.

******

“You seem like you are looking for someone?” He would be terribly disappointed if you were meeting someone here. Although he’s not opposed to threesomes.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude." You also didn't mean to be obvious about looking, but you've clearly failed in that. "My best friend. We came together and got separated, that's all. I'm sure she's fine."

“It is no problem.” He assures you, relaxing slightly. A friend. “Would you like to find her? Or……” he shrugs slightly, leaving it up to your interpretation.

"I'm sure she's fine," you repeat, mostly to reassure yourself. Lizzy is far better in unknown social situations than you are. After all, she's the one who talked you past the security guards. Taking another sweep of the crowd, you finally look up and spot her glossy red hair and striking black flapper dress in the balcony. Against the railing. Balustrade? Whatever you call it when it's in the ballroom of a house. "Oh," you breathe, relieved. "There she is. I just...didn't want her to miss this. She loves this singer."

Oberyn follows your gaze and smirks when he sees a very familiar figure next to her. “It seems as if she has found some company for the performance.”

"I'm not surprised." Or even taken a little bit aback by how fast it happened. Lizzy's always been lucky in love, no matter what the level. "Sorry again," you murmur to your own companion. "I just...we take care of each other. That's all."

“Do not apologize for looking after your friend.” He shakes his head gently. “That is admirable.”

That softens your expression in an entirely different way, and you lean slightly into your handsome companion's side. "I just didn't want you to think I wasn't interested, that's all."

“I can tell you are interested.” He tilts his head. “It is just a matter of you acting on it, I think.”

Your cheeks are on fire immediately, eyes glancing away out of sheer embarrassment. Is it really that obvious? And are you really that obvious? You ought to feel ashamed but all you can feel it the heat in your veins. "I'm...not terribly good at figuring out if that sort of thing is welcome. Which is why I hardly ever do."

“I can assure that that any move you make would be met with enthusiasm.” He chuckles softly, taking another sip of his wine. “All you have to do is ask to see the room I am staying in tonight.”

"I—" Your head tilts out of sheer surprise. "Really?"

“Why are you looking so surprised?” Oberyn sets his wine down and he light brushes his hand over your ass, hovering right over it before sliding up to your hip. “You are gorgeous and have captured my interest.” He smirks. “Party crashers do that.”

"How could you possibly—?" Your confusion only deepens, though now your side is flooded from heat with his hand.

“Know that you didn’t receive an invitation?” He winks at you from under his mask. “Some secrets are best kept just that, Daisy.” He coos. “Do you want to finish the concert, or shall I give you a private tour of the west wing of the house?”

The possibility that this man is the legendary Oberyn Martell never even crosses your mind. That would be too unbelievable. But surely he works for him. Or is a family member. Or is somehow connected to the man who owns this mansion, multiple Martell family businesses, and half the city to boot. Whoever he is? He's handsome, smells sinfully good, and is looking at you like he's going to devour you. So you straighten out your spine and decide to give yourself a fantastic story out of tonight. "How about we top off our glasses and go for a tour?"

“Atta girl.” He chuckles. “You have spirit and that is something that I will enjoy when I hear you scream again and again in pleasure.” He picks up the wine bottle and drains it between your glass and his.

"Is that a promise or a threat" You joke, suddenly wishing you were wearing a far flashier and more alluring costume.

“Both.” He chuckles darkly and leans into whisper in your ear. “I can guarantee a night you will never forget.”

"Well damn." Hiding your thudding, thundering heart behind a coy smile, you can't hide the shiver that runs down your spine. "What are we waiting for?"

He smirks victoriously and turns to offer you his arm. “Nothing, my little dove.” He promises. “We are waiting for nothing.”

The gold bracelets on his wrists are cool on the tips of your fingers as you wrap one hand around his arm, wondering what the hell you could possibly be thinking and also how fucking sexy he is. It's truly unfair. Or it would be. If you weren't the one on his arm right now. He leads you away from the stage and to the outer rim of the room, surveying things as he goes but always bringing his eyes back to you. It really gives you the impression of a prince surveying his kingdom, and purely in a way that makes you squeeze your thighs together.

******

The morning light starts to peek on from the edge of the heavy velvet curtains. Making Oberyn grunt and roll over out of the spearing ray that lands on his cheek. The night had been spent in darkness, keeping the thrill of the game alive despite your bodies being stripped to the skin. Now his eyes open, landing on your face for the first time without the mask you had been wearing.

It might be the best night's sleep you've ever had. Certainly the most comfortable bed you've ever slept in, and the most luxurious sheets you've ever had wrapped around you. When he allowed for it anyway. Your general is a giving and pampering lover but also a human blanket. He had kept you tight in his arms for most of the night until eventually turning away sometime in the middle of your deep and uplifting dreams.

You are still sleeping, making him smirk as he shifts closer. Last night had been intoxicating and fun. You had been enthusiastic and vocal, willing to let him do anything he wanted to you under the cover of darkness. Now, he wants to see what you look like in the light.

The warmth and weight of him is what drags you from your dreams, making the gardens of your unconscious world drift away as you float back down into your body, only to hum from somewhere deep in your chest as you register the low rumble of him beside you.

“You are waking up, Princess?” He asks softly, curling up against you again.

“Mm.” You turn instinctively, burying yourself in the warmth of someone who is clearly just waking up as well. This isn’t one of those one-night-stands where you jump out of bed and run away afterward. This is slow and luxurious. “Morning,” you murmur, cracking your eyes open.

“Morning.” His fingers slide down the curve of your spine and he palms your ass to pull you closer for that first morning kiss that he always enjoys.

The hunger from last night is still there, though the immediacy has ebbed a little. As though he is aware this morning as having all the time in the world. You sweep your tongue through his mouth just as eagerly as he does yours, savoring the lingering intimacy. “Sleep well?”

“Like a baby.” He chuckles, finding himself relaxed despite knowing that the party had continued on into the early hours of the morning. Stragglers would still be sleeping where they had passed out or adjourned to find privacy. The clean up from the night’s activities would not begin until well into the afternoon. Brunch would not even be served to those that had remained until after the noon hour had passed.

“Me too.” Without any idea what time of morning it is, all you know of the sun is high and the crisp autumn breeze coming through the windows is perfect, all of it giving him an almost ethereal presence as he leans over you in that enormous bed of his.

Without a mask you can see his golden skin more clearly, maybe a few more laugh lines than you expected but he wears them very handsomely. His extra years give him experience and speak to his love of life. Without his mask you can also see the prominent arch of his nose and the peaks of his cheekbones, all of which you instinctively wish you could trace in kisses but you don’t know if that’s allowed this morning.

“Are you too sore for another round?” He asks, arching a brow playfully. You haven’t looked surprised to find out who he is, so perhaps you had figured it out during the night. He had brought you back to his personal bedroom, but the lights had stayed off.

“Not at all.” His stamina was commendable last night so you’re not surprised to find him eager for another encounter this morning. Something tickles at the back of your mind, like he looks too familiar but you brush it off. Maybe you’ve been in the same restaurant or movie theater before? Who knows.

He hums and lowers his mouth to your neck, pressing his lips and nipping your skin playfully. “You tasted so delicious last night, I am craving another taste.”

“Miraculously, I do not have work today.” Your hands find the strong, defined muscles of his back easily, holding him to you with enthusiasm. “So I can indulge as much as you like.”

“Good.” He smirks and hovers over you again. “Then I will take my time.”

** He keeps his promises. At least when it comes to intimacy. When it comes to how many times he can make you scream for him and coaxing you into yet another tantric position you’ve never heard of but unlocks something primal and needy in you. He keeps his promises and you keep yours, leaving each other exhausted and panting as you collapse in each other’s arms all over again.

There is no wine nearby, so he reluctantly pulls away from you, climbing out of the bed and walking over to the mini fridge that is underneath the bar in the corner. Pulling out two bottles of water he turns back towards you. “Do you want to join the brunch crowd in a little bit?”

"Eating something is probably a good idea," you admit, accepting the water from him gratefully. "We've had a hell of a workout over the last...twelve hours? I have no idea what time it is."

Oberyn chuckles and twists the cap off his own drink. “It’s nearly noon.” He admits, having glanced at his phone briefly.

"Is it?" Neither embarrassed or upset about spending so much time closed up in this bedroom with him, you finally take time to look around the room in the clear light of midday. "This is...a hell of a room," you commend, taking in all the details of the space. The sumptuous fabrics and detail in the carved woods. The elaborate stained glass window tiles scattering various colors across the floor that had not been anywhere as brilliant in the moonlight. "If this is a guest room I can't even imagine what the master bedroom looks like."

He pauses when you say that, pulling his bottle down from his lips as you look around. You aren’t looking at him and he is highly amused. You’ve obviously not recognized him, slightly stinging his ego, but it makes the previous evening and this morning even more refreshing. “I am sure it would splendid.” He agrees. “If it were a guest room.”

"If it—" Opening your mouth once or twice or three times in confusion, you take another drink of water and sit up in his bed. "You're family?" The possibility had never even crossed your mind, although now you feel a little stupid for not realizing.

“Martell is my last name.” He admits with a nonchalant shrug, as if it is inconsequential to the subject at hand.

"I had no idea." Feeling all the more embarrassed, you practically sink back against the headboard. "I mean....I don't know if it's one of those local pride things like...like I ought to know. But in my defense, I only moved to this city last year."

He watches your face fall and frowns, moving towards the bed to sit down. “No, no, my sweet little dove, you are not going to be upset.” He commands, as if he could change your emotions just by wishing it. “I enjoy the discovery that you don’t know who I am.” He assures you, reaching out and touching your knee. “It means you wanted to sleep with me for a reason other than my name.”

"I told you..." Reaching for him is as easy as breathing, even if you are a little more intimidated to do it now. "I was drawn to you."

“And I was drawn to you.” He smirks, sending you a playful wink.

"Then I suppose it...doesn't matter?" It would make you pretty embarrassed to invite him over to your studio apartment, but you don't anticipate this going past today anyway.

“What do you mean?” He tilts his head curiously.

"Nothing. Never mind." Slipping from the sheets, your only option is too hunt the floor for your dress and slip back into the same clothes you were wearing last night. "I should text my friend. Let her know I won't be home until after brunch." And see if Lizzy had texted you about staying out, too. She usually has more luck anyway.

He frowns at your back as you hunt up your clothes. “Let me get you something else to wear.” He offers, unashamed at his own nudity, but he senses that you might want to wear something.

If all the men in this family are like the famous Oberyn Martell, there is probably a storage closet somewhere with spare clothes for conquests to wear the morning after. Not that you care how many other people a partner has slept with – that's none of your business and doesn't really matter. You were safe last night and this morning, so a number is just a number. "I don't want to be a nuisance," you say instead, because it's the truth.

“It is no nuisance.” He insists, standing up and walking towards the door that his closet is behind. “I have some beautiful things from you to choose from.” He motions you over.

"I'll get them back to you," you promise him, before you even get over to the closet. Assuming they don't belong to some other woman, they still belong to him. And that's basic respect.

“Consider it a gift.” He waves away your concern and finds it sweet that you would want to return something like that to him. “My eldest has a flare for designing clothes.” He admits as he turns on the light to the closet. “These are some of her mock ups, not released to the public.”

"Your daughter made these?" The closet is bursting with colorful, inventive fashions that make your eye jump around from piece to piece with growing awe.

“Yes.” He smiles proudly as he looks around the smaller room. It is lined with designs that she has worked on, and even if she had not liked them, he loved them because she made them. “Her line has taken off, there is a show coming up next month.”

"And you're willing to just...give me her designs?" You turn to him with wide eyes.

He smiles and reaches out to pinch your chin gently. “You are exquisite. You will wear it well and everyone will ask you where you got it.” He predicts.

"Then you have to tell me what her fashion line is called, so I can tell everyone who asks." He lets you select a combination of skirt, blouse, and sweater that are comfortable and extremely attractive and you know you'll wear as much as humanly possible.

“Dornish Sun by Obara Sand.” Oberyn murmurs, watching you run your fingers through the silks that she had stitched.

"Is it cliche if I say that you don't look old enough to have a grown daughter?" There is no reason to be shy about dressing in front of him since he was the one who undressed you last night.

“I started very young.” He chuckles.

"It seems so." The silk handkerchief skirt settles on your waist easily and the camisole is soft on your skin, making you feel utterly luxuriated with just simple clothing. "Well, I...thank you. And thank you to your daughter as well. She's extremely gifted."

“Of course.” He smiles. “Yellow is your color.” He compliments. “You should wear it often.”

"I will." That is a promise you can make him easily. The warmth has returned to everything you're feeling, pushing awkwardness out the window, and you're pull on the soft cardigan that compliments the clothing when you hear your phone go off somewhere in the vast bedroom. "That's probably Lizzy," you tell him, moving back toward his room. "Did you...you mentioned brunch?"

“I am sure that she will be there if she stayed.” He knows she will, Ellaria will have her there. “You should assure her you are safe.”

Your purse, phone inside, had somehow ended up falling off of a side table last night and is sitting on the beautifully waxed wooden floor when you go to retrieve it. If you look a bit like a bumblebee with your yellow and black and floral outfit today, at least the black heels and black clutch you brought last night will complement it.

There are no less than a half dozen messages on your phone, but the one from this morning is, indeed, from Lizzy.

From Lizzy: You disappeared so early last night! Who did you end up going home with??

You grin typing out your reply, and try not to sound too smug in your reply.

To Lizzy: I'm still in the mansion, actually. Got invited to brunch and won't even have to do a walk of shame. Meet up afterward?

From Lizzy: The brunch!!!! I’m going to be there too. I will see you there!

While you are answering your phone, Oberyn dresses in a pair of deceptively casual linen pants and a burnt orange shirt, shoving his feet into a pair of stylish loafers and choosing the watch Ellaria had gifted him on his last birthday.

"She says she'll be at brunch, too." Looking up from your phone, a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth when you see how effortlessly handsome and stylish he looks in his beautifully tailored clothing.

“I assumed she would.” He smirks. “Ellaria loves to pamper her lovers after a night in her bed.”

"Ellaria...?" Letting the wheels of your mind spin at will, it takes only seconds to connect the final dots and your eyes widen all over again. "You're Oberyn Martell?"

He tilts his head in acknowledgement and smirks. “I am.” He admits, walking over and picking up his water bottle again. “But I’m more interested in learning your real name.”

You practically stammer it out, but you do tell him. It had been wrong to assume that it could not be him, apparently, despite his legendary attachment to his partner Ellaria Sand.

“Beautiful.” He smiles, thinking that your name fits you. “Now, are you a woman who brushes her teeth before brunch or after?” He asks curiously.

"After." You laugh, although the question is practical. "I can't have anything messing with the flavor of my coffee."

He chuckles and agrees. “Especially when you are following it up with a mimosa.” He jokes.

“Exactly.” You agree, accepting his arm when he offers it. “The only thing worse that toothpaste and coffee is toothpaste and orange juice.”

A horrid combination.” He curls his lip in disgust. “Come, the brunch will be starting soon.”

By the light of day, the mansion is both enormous and even more splendid than it seemed last night. Details were lost in the lights of the party that you can see very clearly now as he walks you through the halls, though you do your best not to gape. Down immense hallways and the grandest set of stairs you have ever seen before – Surely these aren't the stairs he took you up last night? You would remember. – he escorts you to an enormous dining room with ceilings higher than most churches you've been in.

The staff, the regular staff, is all dressed respectably in black trousers, a sun yellow shirt and a black vest over that. The Martell family symbol of a spear and a bursting sun is emblazoned on the left breast of the vest, with a discreet name tag on the right.

There are stations for hot food and sideboards full of cold choices all laid out everywhere, and plenty of party guests milling about in last night's costumes or this morning's borrowed clothes. Soft music plays from somewhere overhead and a few staff members move between tables pouring tea, delivering mimosas, and occasionally delivering a different drink altogether. One table in the corner is a little grander than the rest, but it pulls your eye for an entirely different reason. Sitting, sipping a Bloody Mary in contentment, is Lizzy.

“Ahhhh, there they are.” Oberyn hums, his smile widening when he sees the beautiful face of his paramour and guides you over to the table. “You look well rested this morning, my love.”

"An illusion, I assure you." Ellaria smirks, rising from her place at the table with a cup of well-doctored coffee in front of her. "Since my dear new friend ensured I got very little sleep at all last night." She moves to Oberyn's side with ease to kiss him. "I trust you did the same for her friend?"

He pulls her in for a kiss, just as passionate as the one he had given you before entering the dining room where brunch was being served. Smiling when she moans slightly and pulls away. “Of course I did.”

“Good.” She commends, the easy praise pouring from her lips. “I knew you would not let any leave your bed unsatisfied.”

“Of course not.” He purrs. “She looks ravishing, as does your playmate for the evening. Have you decided to invite her back?”

“Thursday.” Ellaria’s smile is pure satisfaction on her own part. “A pity, though. She has no interest in cock. Though I don’t suppose she would mind you watching if you like.”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I will leave you two to your games. I can amuse myself, as you well know.”

“With your new playmate?” His paramour asks slyly, glancing over at where you and Lizzy are chatting excitedly at the table.

“I find myself enchanted by her:” Oberyn admits, never shy about sharing his feelings with Ellaria. Despite their openness, they have also been together for nearly fifteen years.

“Then I am very glad she stayed.” Though Oberyn enjoys his encounters, it is rare for him to be enchanted by just anyone. It is a high commendation from a man who can have anyone he chooses.

“I am too.” He watches you and your friend with Ellaria. “I am thinking of asking her for an arrangement.” He poses.

“Oh?” She is surprised at that but not unhappy. When Oberyn finds someone worthy of an arrangement it is always something that brings him joy, and Ellaria is never opposed to Oberyn’s joy.

“What do you think?” He turns to look at his lover, seeing that she is surprised, but not necessarily opposed to the idea.

“I think she is lovely and you are enchanted.” Snuggled into his side, Ellaria presses a kiss to Oberyn’s jaw and smiles. “And she looks very fine in Obara’s clothes.”

“She was in complete awe of the closet.” He muses. “She is not seeking social status, that is for certain.”

“No?” That alone is enough to pique Ellaria’s interest. After all, his status is high enough to elevate anyone simply by proximity. “How do you know?”

“She did not know who I was” Oberyn admits with an amused chuckle. “And it was no act. She was embarrassed by the fact she did not recognize me.”

“Well, well.” Ellaria chuckles, tutting in amusement. “That does make things more interesting. Her friend did recognize me, but not everyone is as mysterious as your new lover.”

He hums and pulls her close to steal another kiss. “Perhaps you will take her out to lunch?” He asks. “Tomorrow?”

“If you wish it.” Ellaria hums, glances back at you and Lizzy, and ends up smiling. “Do you wish me to sweeten her to the idea of your arrangement, or will you propose it today?”

“Sweeten her up a bit.” He winks at you when you glance over. “Beyond that, I want to know your opinion before I offer her more.”

“I will give you an honest review,” she promises, kissing him once more before straying off toward the buffet.

Oberyn watches her walk away for a moment before he turns back towards the table and smirks. Walking slowly towards you as you giggle with your friend.

“Lizzy was just saying the same thing I did when we came downstairs,” you tell him, though the honest truth is that she said it much earlier in the conversation and just now you had been gossiping about why and how you’re both so tired. “The house is even more beautiful in the sunlight.”

“I am glad you are enjoying yourself here.” Oberyn smirks and nods towards Lizzy. “I am sure that Ellaria would love to give you a private tour, if she hasn’t already.” He chuckles. “She loves to fuck in the library. Hates to read, but loves to fuck there.”

“Yes, I…um…” Lizzy clears her throat and offers him a tight, slightly nervous smile. “I have been in the library. Haven’t really seen or paid attention to much of it, but I’ve been in it.”

He hums in approval and nods. “She did say that you both enjoyed yourselves immensely.” He pulls out a chair beside you and sits down. “Have you decided if you want anything from the buffet, or something else?” He asks both of you.

“There are more than enough choices on the buffet,” you assure him. “And it all looks wonderful.”

“We were just waiting until you got here.” Lizzy admits easily. “Ellaria said brunch would last for hours so we didn’t need to hurry.”

“It does.” He agrees. “But I do think we should order our first round of drinks, don’t you?”

“She’ll say anything is fine, but she prefers tea,” Lizzy supplies, nudging your arm at the table and aiming a mischievous grin in your direction while you look mortified that she essentially just made a demand on your behalf.

“Black, green, oolong, white or pu-erh?” Oberyn asks, tilting his head in question. “Don’t tell me you are someone who only drinks hibiscus tea and thinks that’s the best?” He playfully makes a face of horror. “You will insult me.”

“No, no, really it’s—”

Lizzy huffs and pokes you. “Earl Grey with lemon and sugar,” she tells him, seemingly pleased that someone else is willing to make a fuss over you besides her.

“Earl Grey it is.” Oberyn nods. “Do you like the plain earl grey or the cream?”

“Plain, please,” you murmur, as though you’re glad that the least intrusive answer is the honest one. The scowl you shoot Lizzy is an attempt at withering, but you just don’t have that kind of emotion in you today. It’s as if last night swept away all the negativity you had — and while the anxiety remains this is still the best you’ve felt in ages.

Oberyn motions one of the staff over. “A pot of Earl Grey tea with lemon and sugar.” He orders for you. “A Bloody Mary with extra horseradish for Ellaria.” He turns towards Lizzy. “And you, darling?”

“I think I’ll switch to water after this,” Lizzy concedes, tapping the rim of the Bloody Mary she’s nearly finished. They’re quite strong and she was only after some hair of the dog. She doesn’t need to be drunk all over again.

He pouts slightly but turns back towards the man. “A bottle of sparkling water for her and I will have a peach nectar mimosa.” He decides, smirking slightly. “I still have a yearning for sweet peaches this morning.”

You clear your throat, lips pursed together despite the very pleased smile tugging at both corners of your lips, and distinctly avoid your best friend’s eyes for the moment. He had compared your cunt to a peach in every conceivable way last night, espousing its virtues endlessly, and the simple reminder has transported you right back to the image of his head between your thighs.

Oberyn chuckles softly and sends you a knowing smirk. “I think you enjoyed it too, Dove.” He murmurs, reaching under the table to stroke your thigh. “So when did you decide to crash the party?” He asks, looking at both of you with a grin.

“About a week ago,” Lizzy answers honestly, ignoring how much further you sink down into your seat. “When I found those little masquerade masks in a costume shop. I promised I’d find a party to take her to if she rented costumes with me.”

“And technically you did,” you admit, rolling your eyes at your best friend to hide the fact that you’re somewhat mortified to have been found out so easily, and end up in the host and hostess’s beds.

“It is a good thing.” He admits, shrugging nonchalantly. “There are always a few that come that are not on the guest list, it’s a compliment. It means the parties are worth attending.” He smirks. “Although next year you will have invitations.”

Lizzie’s eyebrows raise at that and she glances at you meaningfully, as though she hadn’t had as significant a night as you did.

“We will?” You ask, swallowing the surprise in your voice.

“Of course.” He lifts a brow in amusement, as if he could not believe you would think anything else. “If you come, that is up to you.”

“Of course we’ll come.” The idea that you wouldn’t is shocking and the promise comes out of your mouth extremely quickly, even if you don’t mean it to. It’s not as if you expect to sleep with him again in a year — but a girl can hope. It’s not as if you expect your own circumstances will change much by then.

“So tell me how you came to be in our fair city?” He wants to know more about you, and your friend.

“It’s…complicated,” you admit, although the tale is old as time. “But basically…Lizzy and I were roommates in college and we’ve been friends ever since. So last year when I needed a new start, I came and joined her here.”

“Heart break or financials?” Oberyn asks sagely. There are only two reasons most people need to make a fresh start and he wonders which category you fall into.

“I—” Glancing at Lizzy like a plea for help, your best friend only shrugs and picks up her Bloody Mary as if to say ‘you opened the door, now answer the question.’

“Both,” you admit sheepishly. “I would working for my fiancé’s family business. So when the engagement ended, so did the job.”

“I see.” He lifts a brow and makes a note to dig into your past, wanting to see what kind of man you were engaged to. “Then I hate to be crass, but I owe your foolish ex partner a word of thanks for giving you the freedom to land in my bed.”

“He was a fuckin’ moron.” Lizzy supplies helpfully, and grins when you huff at her. “What? He was! I know you were together forever but that doesn’t make him less of an idiot.”

“Your beautiful friend has a point.” Oberyn chuckles and greets the server when he comes back with your drinks. “The tea pot in front of this beautiful lady.” He reminds him and watches as the entire service set is transferred from the rolling cart. It is a silver and gold bone China set that was his late mother’s favorite.

“Thank you,” is repeated several times both to the server and to Oberyn, and the brewed tea is beautifully doctored just how you like it. It’s a beautiful luxury, you will admit readily, and sip the scalding tea with a blissful smile. “I’m glad it’s over, but the ending was not fun,” you tell him finally. “And…if it’s what needed to happen for us to come here last night? That is a wonderful night to make up for all the pain.”

“Perhaps.” He smirks and reaches over to steal a sugar cube from the little pot like he would as a child. His own drink is perfect and he hums in approval as everyone in the room settles into a quiet chatter.

When Ellaria returns to the table she brings two plates with her and sets one down in front of Oberyn. He takes forever to make even the smallest choices when it comes to having so many options, and while she would never interrupt his fun in the bedroom, it's been long enough that she surely knows his favorite foods. "You should go up," she tells you and Lizzy sweetly. "There is plenty to pick from."

Oberyn is vastly amused and thankful, winking at his paramour before he looks over at you. “Dove, you should go fix yourself a plate.”

Ellaria and Lizzy both look duly impressed that there is already a pet name in place, but you downplay it. Just thanking him again for the tea and getting up from the table to go get your food is enough from now. He's being very sweet to you this morning and it's far more than you expected, so you're going to savor it while it lasts.

“She must have a magical cunt.” Ellaria hums as she watches you and Lizzy scamper off to the buffet tables. “Does she –”

Oberyn shakes his head. “Honestly? I did not ask, although I am certain if she ever had any desire to, you would persuade her.” He compliments, leaning over and picking up her hand to kiss the back of it.

"I'll save the question for after tomorrow's sweetening." Ellaria decides. You seem like you could be overwhelmed by too much attention, and that would not go well for Oberyn's desires.

“Apparently she is recently off heart break and financial strife.” Oberyn discloses. “Perhaps you can question how deep that monetary problem runs?” He won’t take advantage of you by leveraging money, but he will offer you a very lucrative opportunity.

"Do you know what she does?" That is always an interesting conversation, and can be a gateway to many things. "Beside fuck like a goddess, apparently?" Ellaria grins.

“There wasn’t much small talk happening.” Oberyn admits shamelessly, his own grin accompanied by waggling eyebrows. “It is a pity your lover does not like cock, or we could see how we all enjoy each other.”

"There is no such thing as a perfect world is there?" Ellaria sighs dramatically, entirely aware that in every reasonable way, their life is perfect. It is simply a matter of who they choose to share that perfection with. That is the question at hand.

******

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” Ellaria has to shout to be heard over the wind racing between you, the top down on her sporty little convertible as she zips you away from the mansion and towards what she promises to be the best shopping in the city.

The invitation had come as a surprise to you, but when Ellaria Sand had suggested you come back over to the mansion today to have lunch, you had tentatively accepted. She was very nice, after all, and interesting -- and the longtime lover of the man that you were struggling to stop thinking about. It made the sound of lunch so civil, and you told yourself that you would not try to peak for Oberyn around the mansion where they both lived.

But as soon as you had arrived she had scooped you up in her car and said that lunch al fresco and shopping sounded divine to her, and you hadn't had the heart to tell her that there was no way in hell that you would be able to shop with her. You had just been quietly glad that you wore your nicest dress today and gotten into the car like she suggested.

"Sunny and beautiful," you agree, wondering where you could possibly be heading.

“I find on days like this, I want to be outside.” She continues on. “Don’t you? What do you do for work?” The question is blunt and automatic, immediately starting in on Oberyn’s request to sweeten you up.

“Oh, um…nothing special. Just…the usual sort of thing.” It’s embarrassing to admit to someone as effortlessly elegant and carefree as Ellaria that you work yourself numb at a coffeeshop every morning and a pizza place every night. Taking shifts off to crash the masquerade and — you thought — sleep off the hangover had been something you worked hard to manage. The afternoons are normally your only free time, and today you’re spending that time with her.

“What is the usual sort of thing?” Her hair is wrapped in a stylish Hermès scarf and her Armani sunglasses are the latest collection. She had dressed specifically to show you what can be yours.

“I work in kitchens,” you answer diplomatically, even though you hate it. Being good at it doesn’t mean it’s what you want to do with your life. You have a hard-earned degree that is sitting and calcifying while you try and fail to find work in your preferred field. When you see her tilt her head out of the corner of your eye, you shrug your shoulders. “I’m a barista and I work at a pizza place,” you clarify finally, deciding to be transparent.

“No wonder you have such lovely taste in tea!” She reaches over and touches your knee gently before taking a firm hold on the wheel. “Do you enjoy it?”

“Not really.” You can admit that even if it doesn’t feel utterly fantastic to do so. “But I’m grateful to have the work.”

“What would you rather do?” She asks. “Dream job or your goal in life?” She smiles over at you. “Mine was to raise my children myself, so don’t discount a homemaker if that’s your dream.”

“I’d like a family at some point.” That’s definitely somewhere in the dreamscape of your fantasy future, though you really don’t know about any of it happening any more. “To be honest?” Glancing over as she drives, you aren’t too surprised to see her pull into an area of underground parking beneath a large and expensive looking shopping mall. You’ve actually been to this one before — you brought a book to the cafe here once to buy an overpriced pot of tea and read in the conservatory-like atmosphere. “I really don’t know. I suppose…I like books quite a lot. But being a librarian takes quite a lot of schooling.”

“It does?” She’s completely unaware of that. “I couldn’t imagine why. I have never been good at reading.” She admits with a laugh. “It bores me. Although Oberyn adores reading. His library is magnificent. At least for fucking in.” She throws you a wink as she parks and shuts off the engine.

“I heard.” The grin you shoot her is honest and amused. Lizzy is beside herself with attraction but trying to be practical about it. “We’re eating here?” You ask, genuinely interested in what sort of bistros or lovely restaurants this building might have.

“Oh, I didn’t even ask,” she huffs, annoyed at herself. “Do you like Indian and sushi?” She cocks her head to the side. “There is this wonderful fusion restaurant on the rooftop. They also make wonderful cocktails.”

“Indian and sushi fusion?” Such an idea had never occurred to you in your entire life, but since they’re two of your favorite foods? Why not. “Sounds incredible. Let’s do it.”

“Oh you will love it.” She promises. “They make these Tikka masala salmon rolls that are to die for.” She rolls her eyes and hooks her arm through yours. “Eat and then shop or shop and then eat?”

"Why don't we eat and then shop?" You suggest, knowing that at some point you will have to bow out and take the city bus back home for work tonight. It would be nice to share a meal beforehand.

“That sounds completely fair.” She knows where you are going and immediately guides you towards the elevators to take you up from the garage level. “We will get to know each other and perhaps get drunk while we do it.”

"Maybe." It seems rude to point out that you're going to work after this so that won't be a possibility, so you simply shrug one shoulder and allow the question to hang in the air. As if you didn't envy the freedom she has so much more than just a little.

She hums, far more observant than she would appear and once the doors open to let you inside the car, she drags you in and presses the button for the rooftop. “Oh damn. You didn’t bring sunglasses.” She huffs and quickly presses the button for the third level. “Quick stop before lunch.”

"I don't need sunglasses, Ellaria. Really, I promise." She's laughing, though, and so radiant that you bite your lip and swallow the protest, starting to do the math in your head for if you can even afford to look at sunglasses in one of these fancy stores.

Once the elevator stops on the desired floors she whisks you away and down the marbled floors towards the stores. “Armani or Louis Vuitton?” She asks, turning and staring at your face for a second in contemplation.

"I—" You feel like melting into the floor, but she is whisking you down the hallway and apparently not stopping for anything so you swallow what would otherwise be a whimper of worry and decide your credit card is going to have to come out today. "Armani," you decide, knowing the prices there will be considerably lower than anything Louis Vuitton would ever carry.

“Fantastic!” Her eyes light up and she steers you towards the store. “We will find the perfect pair.” She hums and smirks. “The sunglasses and a bikini will be the perfect outfit for an evening around the water gardens.”

"Ellaria." That makes you pause, and you put one hand on her arm gently. "I do have to work tonight."

“No.” She frowns, a small pout on her face and she shakes her head. “That’s not fun. You deserve more than just one evening off to recover from the masquerade.”

“Well…no. It isn’t fun.” That is certainly not the reaction you expected from her, although you’re not entirely sure what reaction you did expect. “But…that’s why they call it work, right?”

She huffs and lifts a brow. “How much do you make an hour?” She demands, even if she knows it’s rude.

You huff, feeling deeply put on the spot, and try to remember that your best friend is half in love with this woman so maybe you should just grit your teeth on manners. “Not much,” you tell her, and when she raises an eyebrow you look down at the floor. “Both of my jobs pay minimum wage. That’s why I need two.” At least the tips are good, you remind yourself. At least the tips are good.

“I will give you one thousand dollars to be my assistant for the afternoon.” She decides, immediately opening her purse and pulling out her wallet. “Will that cover the lost wages?”

“Ellaria…” To a passerby, or even to yourself just days ago, it might seem callous. Flippant. But one of the things you do know for certain about Ellaria Sand is that she is not a careless person. The small and large acts of kindness and caretaking you had seen from her in the small time you had known her reinforce that knowledge. She isn’t careless, she’s just a deeply blunt person.

“Is that not enough?” She glances up at you with a look of concern on her face. She could have sworn it would cover it, but perhaps you have extremely good tips.

“It’s like three weeks’ pay, that isn’t the point.” The Milk of Human Kindness, that was the phrase. Ellaria is tough. Strong. But made with the milk of human kindness. “I need to keep my job. I can’t just call out whenever I feel like it.”

“Hand me your phone.” Ellaria demands, holding her hand out.

“Why?” But even as you ask it, that part of your mind that is conditioned to please others by doing what your told has you reaching for your cell phone in your pocket.

You’ve opened it for her, so Ellaria taps your contacts and finds that you are a very organized kind of girl. Another reason why Oberyn must adore you and why the idea that has come to mind is such a good one. She clicks on a number and holds the phone up to hear ear, motioning for you give her one seconds.

“I’d like to speak to the manager please.” She murmurs politely when the call connects. As she’s waiting, she smiles at you reassuringly.

“Thank you for calling Main Street Pizza, this is Greg.” The tired, heavily accented voice of a sixty-year-old lifelong smoker who has audibly given up on life comes over the line. “You wanted to talk to the manager?”

“Yes, this Ellaria Sand.” She introduces herself as she watches you shift in front of her. “I have one of your employees standing in front of me right now.” She says your name and waits for him to acknowledge that fact.

“Yeah?” The man drawls, snapping on his gum. “Listen lady, I’m sorry if she said something to piss you off but unless she’s on the clock? She’s not my problem.”

She snorts at his answer, shaking her head and hating that you have ever worked for such a dick. “Oh no darling, you are very much mistaken.” She chuckles. “I’m calling to inform you that she will not be in tonight.” She pauses for a moment. “Or ever again. Consider this her notice.”

“Ellaria!” Your hiccuped shriek of fear and dismay covers whatever your boss blusters on the other end of the call, but she only smiles at you and fends you off as you try to take your phone back.

“How do you sleep at night?” She continues on. “Paying your employee wages that make them have two, sometimes three jobs to just be able to survive.” She hisses. “You should be ashamed of yourself, even though I know you won’t be. But you will no longer be taking advantage of her!” With that, she pulls the phone away from her ear and ends the call.

“What the hell am I supposed to do now?!” As soon as she hands you back your phone you’re fumbling, hands shaking as you blindly try to punch the necessary buttons to call the pizza place back and beg your awful boss to take you back. “I need to survive, Ellaria!”

“Don’t you dare call that place back.” She chides softly, reaching out and taking your hands in hers. “You will not be destitute.” She swears.

“How?” Fear and desperation rises so high in your throat you feel sick. “Money doesn’t fall out of trees, I know you know how hard it is to make it on your own. And this isn’t just about me! Lizzy and I live together. If I can’t pay my half of the rent, we both end up evicted.”

She feels bad, truly, when she sees how desperate you are. “Shhhhhush.” She coos softly, letting go of your hands and cradling your jaw in both her hands. “I have already thought of the perfect replacement for your terrible jobs.” She promises. “And if you do not wish to take it, I will personally pay your bills until you find something you want.”

“My finances are not your responsibility.” Accountability has been drilled into your head for your entire life, and now it comes screaming to the surface even in the face of her reassurance. “I’m not qualified for anything. My job experience is all retail and food service. Getting a job is impossible even for the well-educated. I appreciate your standing up for my worth but the reality is that no employer is going to pay that well.”

She sighs softly. “Oberyn has been toying with the idea of having a curator for his collections.” She murmurs softly. “He has so many duplicate books, so many different libraries. He wants to condense them. He’s mentioned it many times. He will give you the job.” Her lover has no problem helping others with their dreams and goals. He is very generous and it seems as if she is battering down the gates of your life rather than sweetening you to the prospect of what he can offer you. “I have made a mess of all this.” She huffs. “I was supposed to show you what could be yours rather than bully you into changing your life.”

“I’m not…entirely sure that I understand?” In fact you feel like you’re reeling, and that is not at all a helpful thing when you’re trying to process everything Ellaria is telling you. “Oberyn…wants to hire me? To be his personal curator?” You pinch your eyes shut and open them again but it doesn’t help to clear your mind. “He didn’t even know that…that I love libraries or that I studied history?”

“No.” She shakes her head and sighs, looking around before she pulls you closer. “Let’s buy your sunglasses and I promise I will explain while we have a very stiff drink, okay love?”

“Well…” you’re shrug your shoulders helplessly. “I don’t have to work anymore, so I guess a drink is okay.”

“Don’t be too mad at me, I promise you will be perfect. Hopefully even wonderful.” She promises, although she feels so guilty right now.

“I’m not mad.” The realization washes over you and you swallow, holding back a thick coating of emotion. “I’m…scared. And I know we barely know each other so this whole outing has been oversharing anyway.”

“We might not know each other well, but we will.” Of that, she is absolutely certain. “Come, we will pick out a pair of sunglasses and then we will work everything out.” She takes your hand again and starts to steer you towards the Armani store.

It seems pointless to ask how she is so certain. Ellaria appears to be certainly of everything. Instead you just allow yourself to be tugged along, worried and scared and anxious that whatever this remarkable, chaotic woman has to say to you will shake your fragile life even further.

In the store, Ellaria has you try on a dozen pair of sunglasses, not letting you look at the tags before she nods. “Those are the ones.” She decides. “How do you like them?”

They’re classic Armani tortoise shell glasses that complement the shape of your face no matter who you are, and honestly you’d be silly not to love them. “They’re beautiful,” you admit, a little too softly. “But Ellaria…” But you just quit my job for me.

“Don’t.” She holds up a finger and then gently pulls them off your face. “My treat.” She insists before she whirls around and hands them to the associate. “Please get the box for these. She will be wearing them out, of course.”

The associate nods and walks away to comply, not seeing the ways your brows furrow. The feeling in your chest is an odd mixture of shame, guilt, and an unexpected appreciation for the woman currently offering you a slice of something beautiful and lasting for no other reason than kindness. Ellaria — and Oberyn, for that matter — owe you nothing. But that does not stop them from giving, apparently.

“Thank you,” you offer finally, unsure what else to say.

“You have nothing to thank me for.” She huffs. “I have made your anxiety go through the roof.”

“My anxiety is always through the roof.” You laugh it off because she’s right. “That doesn’t make you less nice.”

She snorts and shakes her head, "you are too precious." She murmurs and pulls out her credit card to pay for the glasses.

“So why exactly are sunglasses so mandatory for this restaurant?” You ask, trying not to fidget in place at the cash stand. “Just because it’s on the roof?”

"Absolutely." She smiles and turns towards you as the clerk runs the card.

“That seems a little dramatic.” Still, you smile affectionately. “But then? So is Oberyn. So I shouldn’t be surprised you are, too.”

"I have spent so much time with my lover that I am sure that our characteristics have merged." She laughs. "But I was honestly thinking about how good you will look wearing these and a small bikini we are going to buy you after lunch."

“You mentioned that before.” Walking out of the store together, you laugh again and shake your head a little. “Determined to have me out by that pool at some point? Or is that what Oberyn wanted you to butter me up for?”

She hums in amusement. "No, I don't think that you would believe me if I told you right now." She admits softly.

“One very strong cocktail, right?” Trying to be encouraging, you wave your hand toward the escalator inside the mall and smile. “Let’s go.”

Ellaria takes the bag that has the luxurious box and carrying case for the glasses. "Very strong." She laughs as she swings the bag and loops her arm through yours.

Three floors up, the roof of the luxury shopping center has a smattering of cafes and restaurants, but Ellaria leads you toward one accented with bold patterned tablecloths and oversized gold-upholstered armchairs. Soft music plays inside, and it becomes apparent as soon as the hostess starts leading you inside that the music being piped up to the front of the restaurant to greet diners is actually coming from the live performer out in the dining area.

The skylight is nothing but glass above you, hence why Ellaria had bought you the sunglasses. The hostess brings you over to a beautiful table that is one to very obviously meant to be seen at. “Perfect.” She smiles as the two of you are seated.

"I'll give you ladies some time with the drink menu," the hostess says, before striding away to return to her stand.

It's a stunning place, really. The bright afternoon sun is high overhead and the live music is entrancing. A few people murmur as they recognize Ellaria but she seems entirely unbothered by it. She has been a part of the local gossip in this city so long that it hardly seems to matter to her in the least. Which, you have to admit, is admirable as much as it is enviable.

“So, shall we have a chai martini?” She asks as she looks over the menu. “I know they are excellent.”

"Sounds great," you agree, happy to follow her lead. The fact that it does actually sound good helps immensely.

“You will not regret it.” The second the menu is set down, the waiter is at Ellaria’s elbow. “Two chai martini’s, please and in five minutes have another two brought to the table.” She requests with a smile.

Making a face as if to tell her it’s an admirable pace, you end up laughing as the two of you look over entrees together. You decide on sharing a few sushi rolls of varying degrees of fusion, and by the time the waiter returns Ellaria thanks him and puts in your lunch order easily.

“So.” She holds her martini glass up to yours and clinks it with a small tap. “To new and blossoming friendships.”

“I will absolutely drink to that.” If nothing else, you had agreed to this lunch for Lizzy, but it seems like things are already on their way to becoming far more entangled and interesting than simply a lunch with your best friend’s lover.

Ellaria takes a very long sip of her martini and sighs happily when she is pulling away from the glass. “Now….” She sets the glass down and settles back into her chair. She feels a little more calm now. “We can talk about things.”

“Yes, please.” The drink is delicious, but you can’t deny the burning curiosity. What could she possibly be wanting to talk to you about that required a drink and such an elaborate outing? If Oberyn didn’t want to see you anymore he could simply have said so and that would have been that. You would have been bitterly disappointed, of course, but you’re a big girl. Hearts mend.

“Oberyn wanted me to bring you out today.” She admits shamelessly. “To treat you, sweeten you up for him.” Her hands spread and she shrugs slightly. “But I have been a little too aggressive.”

“That’s the part I don’t understand,” you admit, unintentionally leaning forward in your seat at even the mention of his name. When it comes to Oberyn, you understand that you are simply one in a long line. But he is so incredibly unique that you can’t find it in yourself to mind one bit. “Sweeten me up for what?”

“He wants you.” She tells you bluntly. “Want you to have a relationship with him.”

"Oh!" That was certainly not on the list of things you had counted as possibilities for this conversation -- or ever -- and you're honestly just glad that you hadn't taken a sip of your drink in that moment. "Then...I don't..." Your cheeks flare hot and you clear your throat. "I don't want to sound rude but...why not just ask me that himself?"

“He wanted my opinion on you.” She admits. “And Oberyn likes to give. He is very generous with his lovers and even more so with the ones he has more than just casual flings with. However, he has noticed that you are not like others. He wanted me to show you a glimpse of what he could offer you.”

"You mean I didn't sleep with him because he's famous and wealthy?" It must have really struck a chord with him that you didn't recognize him. That you had just liked him. Been honestly attracted to the man for who he is. "He's a good man. And alarmingly sexy. But you know that better than I do. It isn't hard to be attracted to him. Not at all."

“Oh I know.” She promises. “But your sentiment is exactly what has drawn him in. He wants to keep that for himself.” She picks up her martini glass again. “He is always accusing me of being greedy, but he is just as greedy.”

"So...he wants to...keep me?" You raise your eyebrow at that and have to concede that she was right. You absolutely did need a strong drink for this. "I know he would never give you up, and I certainly would never ask him to."

“Yes.” She nods bluntly. “Oberyn has never been one to limit his appetites, nor limit those of his lovers.” She explains. “It is why your Lizzy found her way into my bed and you tumbled into his.” She smiles.

"And he didn't know if I would be willing to be kept." The thought had never even crossed your mind before. It isn't like there are an abundance of opportunities for broken young women to actually find rich men to shower them in money that aren't either incredibly creepy or bordering on illegal. "So he asked you to make it appealing to me."

“Some find it morally or ethically repugnant.” Ellaria snorts indelicately and rolls her eyes. “Oberyn kept me from selling myself on the streets the first night he met me.” She admits. “I was one hour away from going to work at the brothel when I stopped into a bar to have a drink.”

"What's repugnant is people forcing others into desperate circumstances. Not choosing your own means of survival." Still, your mind reels. Not about any sort of moral hang up but just about the reality of the situation. "I wouldn't feel right taking money for nothing," you tell her honestly. "I don't know what the hell I'm qualified to do, but I would feel like I would have to do something for him."

“That is why his library would be perfect for you.” She hums. “I have a feeling you would be spending plenty of time there anyway.” She winks saucily at you. “But I feel as if I have force you into these circumstances.” She frowns as the words come out. “Which is why I will pay for your bills if you decide not to accept Oberyn’s offer.”

"You don't have to do that." While it's appreciated, it still wouldn't feel right. You haven't done anything to earn that sort of generosity from her. "But...can I ask you...what it's like?" Over her shoulder, you can see the waiter approaching with a tray full of small plates and you finish your thought quickly. "Your arrangement wouldn't be exactly the same as mine, I understand that. But...you're the only person I know I could ask as an example."

She smiles, waiting as the plates are brought to the table, along with the second set of martinis. “Another set of drinks in fifteen minutes.” She requests and looks back at you after thanking the waiter. “It’s….freeing.” She admits. “He will not keep you from taking another lover, he would love to play with you if you so choose. He’s intelligent and charming, bold and some would say that he is quick to temper, but he would never harm you.” She promises. “You have the freedom to do what you wish, with whomever you wish it, as long as you also fulfill his need of you.”

You can't help but smile at that. "Which...let's face it. It's Oberyn. That need is an active one."

“And it will only increase when you have children.” She laughs. “I was having to beat him off of me when I was carrying.” She’s joking, but only just.

"That..." The thought dawns on you with the force of summer sun. "That's why you asked me if I wanted a family?"

“I could not see Oberyn denying himself - or you - a child.” She admits with a small shrug. “He does have eight daughters that he adores.”

"I guess I haven't really thought about it as a possibility," you admit. "Not having a partner put a damper on that. And even my ex wasn't too hot on the idea of kids."

“You will never meet a more excited, or involved father.” She can readily testify to that. He has an individual and close relationship with each of his daughters. Any other children would most definitely be treated to the same relationship.

“Do you…I’m sorry if this is rude, but do you have any kind of relationship with the other girl’s mothers?” While you talk she nudges the food toward you a little and you both begin to eat. “I’m just trying to imagine how so large a family fits together.”

“The others…..” Ellaria sighs. “It’s complicated. But the other women wanted nothing to do with the children beyond what Oberyn could give them. So he took custody.” She explains. “He offered to let them see the girls, but none of them have.”

“I see.” That doesn’t sit well with you at all, but it isn’t your place to have an opinion on any of it. Whatever deals Oberyn made with those women it happened a long time ago and it has nothing to do with you. You just hate the idea of the daughters being used as bargaining chips in any way.

She can see that the entire thing bothers you and she reaches out. “He never would have taken them from their mothers if they loved them as the children they were, rather than a means of income.” She promises. “Although the last one before me, she was a nun.”

“I suppose I just don’t like the idea that anyone would ever think of having kids as a source of income,” you admit, trying to wipe the frown off your face. “But life is complicated. I’m sure there was more going on that I have no idea about.”

“He will tell you about each case if you wish.” She knows Oberyn has nothing to hide about his children, never would hide anything.

“I’ll ask once things are…settled.” Once you know what this next step in your life is going to look like. Because despite the uncertainty and the unexpectedness of what is being offered to you, it is an offer that you don’t really see the downside to. Sure…it would only last as long as he decides he’s happy with the rearrangement. But isn’t all employment at will, so to speak?

“He can be very open.” She smiles and picks up her chopsticks. “Shall we partake in your first experience with this particular fusion?” She asks playfully. “And you can ask me any other questions you might have.”

“Is it too forward to ask what your arrangement with Oberyn is?” She’s the only person you could ask such a thing, after all, and you’re curious. He asked her to warm you up to the idea — but the only idea you have of it all right now is vague at best.

“We are lovers.” She has no issue sharing with you. “Friends, companions. Everything you could imagine short of marriage.” She holds a piece of sushi up and examines it as she talks. “But we also have the freedom to do as we wish. If I were walk away today, Oberyn would let me go, and everything I have would still be mine, even though everyone knows he gave it to me.”

“Did you always live with him?” The first of the sushi rolls that you try is bursting with the familiar tastes of tandoori spices and the sweet tang of seasoned sushi rice. Unexpected but very delicious.

“From the very first night.” She nods. “Oberyn does not like giving up a good thing when he has it.” She smirks at you. “As you are finding out.”

"I just don't want to leave Lizzy without help," you explain, and if it wasn't abundantly clear to Ellaria that you were seriously considering the offer it should be now. "Living expenses are enormous. And she has a good job, but it's still hard."

“Ohhhh, I don’t think you would need to worry about Lizzy.” She hums, her smirk deepening.

"And what exactly does that mean?" You ask, raising one eyebrow in interest.

“It means that your friend is a very special woman.” She winks and reaches for another roll.

"I hope it means you're going to be good to her, too?" That would be so much of what Lizzy wants. So very much.

“Of course she would be very well spoiled.” She winks again. “We have decided that the apartments in the west wing that aren’t being used will be remodeled.”

“We?” The bite of sushi in your mouth is a little too big for talking around delicately and you swallow quickly. “You and Oberyn have already talked about it?”

“We have always had the agreement that if we have found someone we are willing to have an arrangement with, that we would bring them to us rather than take away potential time with the girls.” She explains.

“So…you’re going to offer Lizzy an arrangement, too?” What an utter relief that would be, if it’s true. Lizzy is besotted with Ellaria and loves kids despite not wanting to have any herself. She would be so happy to be a part of a family but have the freedom to come and go and live her own life as she pleases.

“I was hoping she would be up for it.” Ellaria admits. “I have so enjoyed the time with her and find that we are very compatible.”

"I think she will love it." And that fact is like the last of your reservations melting away. Like the thing holding you back wasn't worry for yourself, but worry for your friend who had pulled you out of the pit you were in after your breakup. Lizzy had pulled you out, dusted you off, and gotten you back on your feet and you would never ever abandon her after that kind of love.

She can see that you are relaxed knowing that your friend would be taken care of and that speaks to your character so much more than any words could. “He is right.” She muses. “You are wonderful.”

"I don't know about that," you shake your head, ill-equipped for such a shining compliment. "But I love my best friend very much."

“Of course you do.” She tuts softly, as if it is beyond reason that you would think otherwise.

------

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[absurdthirst]

The Watcher {Modern!Oberyn Martell x F!Reader x Ellaria Sand}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: Voyeurism, exhibitionism, oral sex (male receiving), masturbation, vaginal sex, sexual invitation, alcohol, threesome, stripping, nipple play, oral sex (female receiving), wlw, vaginal sex, face sitting, cock worship

Comments: The view out the window of your apartment becomes an obsession, watching the lovers in the building across the way touch each other. Until you discover they know you are watching, and invite you to join.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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

Oberyn smirks as Ellaria straddles him, taking off his glasses and setting them down on the small side table, a cheeky grin on her face. He’s been busy reading his book about Ancient Rome, and she is tired of thinking how good he looks with those new glasses on. “You’re interrupting me, my sun.” Oberyn tuts and Ellaria chuckles, grabbing the book and closing it before she sets it down. 

“Like you were reading it anyway. Your eyes have been following me around the room.” She hums, sliding her hands along his shirt clad chest. 

“You’re eager for me. I love it.” Oberyn coos, leaning in to playfully nip his lover’s jaw, his lips pressing onto her cheek until he finds her lips, his hands squeezing her waist.

The first time you had seen the gorgeous couple, they had been directing movers into the building across from yours. The large picture windows that had cost you a fortune to have the view of the city, had also been perfect to see into the spacious apartment. You had been curious, a little envious of the willowy brunette for her exquisite taste in furniture, clothing and men. Then you had gone about your day. Until you had seen them undress each other. 

You hadn’t meant to spy, horrified that you could clearly see their activities and they did not realize it. Until you had seen how intimate they were. Their desire intrigued you and you had watched until they were done. 

Now, you are watching again. Breathless when you see the woman straddle him. You don’t know his name, never formally introducing yourself for fear of dying of shame, but you secretly call him Prince. Not after the musician, but because you would think him a King with his sharp jaw and hooked nose, but he is too carefree. He is more like a Prince, a dashing second son of royalty with all the perks and none of the responsibility.

“My sun. You are exquisite.” Oberyn murmurs, his hands gripping Ellaria’s dress and he’s quick to drag it over her head. When that hits the floor, his large hands cup her tits, grateful she’s not wearing a bra, and he leans in to take her nipple into his mouth.

They are gorgeous together, so beautiful it should piss you off and they are completely enamored with each other. You bite your lip, trying to ignore the throbbing in your pussy as you watch, getting turned on by the scene that has started playing out in front of your windows.

His hands caress her back, sliding down to her ass, and he snakes his fingers under the elastic of her panties, squeezing her ass while she starts to grind onto his hardening cock. “You are a minx, my love.” Oberyn murmurs, kissing up Ellaria’s sternum. “All for you, my prince.” Ellaria murmurs, running her hands through his hair.

Even though you aren’t being touched, your skin starts to tingle, breaths coming out in uneven pants. When they do this, which is often, you are helpless to do anything else. Drawn to them like a moth to the flame. You wish you were there, kissing her beautiful body or sinking your fingers into his short, peppered dark hair.

Oberyn chuckles as Ellaria shifts off of his lap, her fingers hooking in his sweatpants and she drags them down. His hard cock bounces as it’s released from his pants. “Mmm she’s watching again.” Ellaria observes without looking over to the window. Oberyn chuckles and strokes her cheek, “then let’s give her something to watch.”

You don’t know they are talking about you. Imagining the words exchanged between them to be the affirmations of love that you don’t have. No partner in a long time and maybe that’s why you’ve fixated on them. You don’t know who you would want more. The seductive woman, with a bewitching smile and fantastic tits; or the debonair man with a wicked smirk and huge cock. Both have their merits and if you could, in your dream, you would have both.

Ellaria leans in, “we gotta put on a good show for her, lover.” She coos, gripping Oberyn’s cock and he groans when she leans in to slide her tongue along the underside of his length. “Mierda.” He hisses, his eyes closing as she wraps her lips around the head after pushing down the foreskin.

You moan softly, alone in your apartment as you watch her take the man’s cock into her mouth. Wondering how he tastes, how he feels on her tongue. Wishing you could share with her. You shouldn’t touch yourself. Sitting down into a chair that hides all but your head as you watch, you hand slides down to cup your cunt through your leggings.

“Do you think she wants your cunt, my sun. Or my cock? Or both of us?” Oberyn muses as Ellaria starts to bob her head, taking his cock a little deeper. “We could share her. If she wants to come over here.” Oberyn smirks, his chest heaving as Ellaria wrecks him with her mouth like she always does. “Shall we give her a bigger show? Have you ride me so she can watch?” Oberyn groans, caressing Ellaria’s hair.

Over the leggings isn’t enough, making you snake your hand down the stretchy material and groan when you touch the swollen bundle of nerves. You’re already slick, so turned on it’s embarrassing and you would cringe to know if anyone discovered your secret. You’ve become a voyeur, unable to masturbate until the strangers in the building across from your apartment are fucking.

Ellaria pulls off of Oberyn’s cock, a giggle escaping her lips as she straddles him again. Reaching down to grip his cock, she notches him at her entrance and starts to slowly sink down onto him. His hands caressing her back, sliding up to squeeze her tits. “Gorgeous, my sun. She will enjoy watching you.”

Your own moan is audaciously loud, echoing through your apartment as the perfectly cast porno plays out in front of you. You wonder how they feel, her squeezing around him and the way he breaks her open. Your two fingers dip into your soaked cunt and then slide back out to rub slow circles around your aching clit, hissing because of how good it feels.

Ellaria slides her hands up his chest, caressing the sun tattoo on his peck he got in honor of his love for her. She had pulled him out of a dark place after his sister was murdered. “His burst of light in the darkness” is what he called her. “My lover, she is touching herself.” Ellaria declares as she looks in the mirror they set up to watch you without you knowing. “Good. Let her watch. Imagine herself sitting pretty on my cock. Or maybe she’s imagining lapping at where we are joined?” He ponders while she starts to rock on top of him.

If you weren’t obsessed with seeing them every second, you would close your eyes, but you have to watch them. She is so graceful as she rolls her hips and starts to ride that impressive cock. You moan again, imagining being there with them, hearing them.

Oberyn chuckles when Ellaria clenches around him at the thought of both situations. “Don’t worry, my sun. We will find out.” He promises, certain that you’d accept an invitation. He squeezes her ass and playfully slaps her cheek when she rocks faster. “That’s it. Want you to soak my cock with your cum. Take what you need.” He grunts to his lover.

You pant, watching them as they move together. Craving the closeness and the intimacy in each kiss and touch. Even the slap of her ass is one made with affection and you cunt clenches around nothing, wondering what his touch would feel like.

Ellaria rocks a little faster, her breathing starting to pick up and Oberyn leans in to take her nipple into his mouth, his large hands splayed over her back, caressing her as she seeks her orgasm from his cock. “That’s it, lover. Keep going. Want you to cum for me.”

They are so elegant, even as they engage in the most crass or carnal activities. Making you whine and your own breast tingles like his mouth is on it instead of lavishing attention on her small breasts. Your rubbing turns harder, thighs pressing and pushing apart as you grind down.

Ellaria watches you in the mirror, her fingers gripping Oberyn’s shoulders as she works herself on his cock until she’s collapsing against him, her body shaking as her orgasm rocks through her. “That’s it, my love.” He murmurs, bracing his feet on the floor so he can thrust up into her, his jaw clenched.

She came. You know it. It’s so beautiful when she stiffens in his arms and collapses against him. “Oh fuck, oh fuck.” You whine, so close to cumming yourself as you watch him take over. His cock pumping into her cunt and you imagine that it’s you for a moment. It sends you over the edge and you cry out softly.

Oberyn grunts, lost in the lust of you watching him fuck his lover. Usually he’d last a couple of rounds but today, he’s eager to cum. He pants, his cock thrusting deep and hard into his partner. He knows she can take him. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He growls, pushing deep when he stills. Cock twitching inside of her as he paints her walls with his seed.

Your eyes greedily watch as he stiffens, knowing he is cumming. Moaning softly, you can only imagine the bliss of how it feels. Relaxing and feeling guilty because of watching them again.

Oberyn groans as he relaxes beneath Ellaria, kissing along her neck until he playfully bites her chin. “You’re too good for me.” He murmurs, kissing her lips softly. “Don’t be ridiculous, my prince. That’s the sex talking.” She teases and he chuckles. “Should we let the girl know we know she’s watching us?” He asks, leaning back to raise his eyebrows. “Let’s.” Ellaria smirks, shifting off of his cock.

Now is the time that you hate yourself. Dragging your fingers out of your leggings, you vow that you won’t watch them again even though you know you will.

Neither Oberyn or Ellaria rush over to the window. They shower and redress, waiting until you’re relaxed on your sofa when Oberyn takes the notepad over to the window. He presses the pad to the glass so you can read it and smirks when he sees your eyes widen at his presence.

‘We know you’re watching’. Your face flames up and you feel like you are going to just die of embarrassment on the spot. They know! They have known…..but then again, if they have known, why didn’t they lower the automatic shades to conceal themselves. You feel bold and grab the notebook you have next to the chair to write a message back. ‘And you are good’ is what it reads as you hold it up to your own window.

Oberyn smirks at your response, glad that you’re not running away. Ellaria called it. You want them. More than anything. He chuckles and grabs his pen, scrawling out a message. ‘Do you want to join us?’ It reads and he awaits your response.

You’re dreaming. It has to be a dream. But if it’s a dream, you are damn sure you are going to have exactly what you want. You rush to pull your pen out of the sleeve in the front and write a message. ‘What apartment #?’

He quickly jots down the apartment number, showing it to you until you nod, and he writes again. ‘Come over in ten minutes.’ He writes and when you nod again, he walks off and finds Ellaria. “She is coming, my lover.” Oberyn murmurs as Ellaria exits the bedroom and he holds her waist, leaning in to kiss her shoulder.

You spend seven of the ten minutes showering. Shaving quickly and praying that you didn’t miss patches. Sliding into never used lingerie and asking yourself if you are really doing this, you let yourself out of your apartment without even looking out the window again, knowing you would lose your nerve if you did.

When the buzzer rings for the door, Oberyn walks over and lets you in. He glances over at Ellaria who has a sultry smile on her face and she watches as Oberyn opens the door after you ring the doorbell. “Hello.” Oberyn greets you, realizing how pretty you are up close.

“Hello.” He has a slight accent you cannot place and even more striking in person. His dark eyes are filled with amusement and intrigue, drawing you closer to him. You introduce yourself, not sure if they want to know your name honestly.

You’re nervous. Oberyn and Ellaria have shared partners before but it seems you haven’t if your nervous look is anything to go by. “Come in. I’m Oberyn and this gorgeous creature is my partner, Ellaria.” He gestures to the woman waiting at the end of the hall.

“Yes, she is.” You blurt out and then bite your lip. “You are, too. Gorgeous, I mean. Both of you are.” You laugh at yourself. “God, I can’t believe you caught me. I’m sorry- or I should be sorry. But I’m really not.”

Oberyn chuckles and shuts the door behind you after you walk over to Ellaria. “You’re not.” The woman declares, “but we love that. My lover and I…we have shared partners before. We are comfortable with you watching. Shit, my prince nearly came too fast when I told him you were watching us.” She winks at you, “you are welcome in our bed if you wish. Only if you wish.” She emphasizes, wanting you to be comfortable.

“Prince?” Your brow shoots up, surprised that she uses the same nickname you do. “Are you his Princess?”

“No. That’s reserved for his daughters.” Ellaria chuckles, “he has eight of them.” Your eyes widen and you glance back at Oberyn, and he grins. “I was wild in my younger days.” Ellaria tuts, “he still is.” Oberyn winks at her and walks down the hall to his partner. “We are being rude hosts. What would you like to drink, sweet girl?” He asks, “we have wine, whiskey, coffee, tea, water?”

“I’ll have what you will have.” You decide as you follow behind him like a lost puppy. “What do you like to drink before sex, during sex, after sex?”

Oberyn nods, “I have a beautiful red wine. My family…they are wine makers. I have a bottle of Dornish red. How does that sound?” He asks, walking over to the wine fridge while Ellaria gets the glasses.

You nod and watch them. “When you did know I was watching?” You ask curiously. “I had hoped I was more discreet. Obviously not, since I’m here.” You can’t be upset about that. Not when you will soon see how they both feel.

“We realized you were watching a few weeks ago. We have been trying to figure out if you wanted us or just wanted to watch us. Decided to take the chance today.” Ellaria confesses, handing you a glass of wine after Oberyn pours three. “What have you been thinking about while watching us?” Ellaria asks, reaching up to caress your cheek.

“How you taste.” You answer honestly, nearly moaning at the first touch of her skin shading yours. “How he feels. Being between you.”

Oberyn smirks as he takes a sip of his drink. "You want to taste her?" He asks and you nod, "yes." Your breathless response makes him chuckle. "Do you have any limits? We aren't dominating but I can manhandle sometimes." He murmurs, watching Ellaria step back from you so you can think.

“I don’t like waste play.” You murmur. “I don’t mind manhandling.” You admit. “I want to know what you sound like, I imagine how you would moan and grunt. You fuck gracefully.”

Oberyn smirks, watching Ellaria step closer to you. Your wine glass is still in your hand and she leans in, cupping your cheek. "You will find out." She promises, leaning in to softly press her lips to yours while Oberyn sips his wine.

The first kiss is making you sigh. The hand not holding the glass of wine quickly finds her narrow waist and holds onto it. In disbelief that you are here and getting to touch them, your tongue slides out to touch hers.

Ellaria slides her tongue against yours, her hand sliding around to cup the back of your head. Oberyn is happy to watch for now, enjoying the view of two beautiful women kissing. "How does she taste?" Oberyn asks you, "do you want to taste more?"

You honestly don’t want to break away, but you need to answer him. Pressing your lips to hers a few more times, you finally pull away. “Delicious.” You hum. “I want more. I’m greedy for everything you will give me, my prince.”

Oberyn chuckles at your eagerness, setting his glass of wine down, he makes his way over to you and Ellaria. Standing behind you, his hands find your waist and he grinds his hardening cock against your ass while he leans in to press kisses to your shoulder. “Keep kissing her.” Oberyn orders, “then I want to watch her take off her clothes.” He murmurs into your skin.

You whine quietly, nodding as you drag Ellaria’s lips back to yours. Needing the pressure of them against your own. You push back against his cock, loving how you’ve ended up sandwiched between the two gorgeous creatures. The strength in his touch is tempered by the softness of hers, Complimenting and balancing each other out.

Ellaria reaches for the hem of the pretty sundress you are wearing, breaking the kiss so she can reveal your body underneath. "Look, lover. She is a pretty little package." Ellaria coos when the dress hits the floor and your lingerie is exposed. Oberyn smirks, "what a divine set. Shame it is going to join your dress." He hums, his hands sliding along your back and he hooks his fingers in your bra straps, dragging them down your shoulders while leaning in to kiss the nape of your neck.

“Yesssss” you moan, tilting your head forward to let him kiss you however he wants. “It’s- whatever you want. I just want you to touch me.” You beg softly.

Oberyn slides his hands lower to unclasp your bra and Ellaria drags it down your arms, letting it drop to the floor and her eyes darken at the sight of your breasts. "Gorgeous." She exhales and leans in to kiss along your sternum and across the top of your breast until she is taking your nipple into her mouth.

“Oh god.” You pant out, leaning back against Oberyn who lifts your breast up so Ellaria can suckle. Feeling like you are in the middle of the most erotic dream you have ever had. “I- fuck, I knew you both would be amazing.” You praise.

Ellaria bites down your nipple before she switches over, making you whimper, and she smirks against your skin. "She's a good lover." Oberyn compliments Ellaria, "and she loves feasting on a delicious pussy." His hand slides lower to cup you through your lace panties.

His hands are fucking massive. You had assumed so because of how he looked with his hand on his lover, but there was no account for how he cups you. Covering the swollen lips of your cunt completely and it makes you whine loudly, a wordless cry of pleasure. Letting both of them touch and tease you as they want.

Oberyn slides his hand under the elastic of your panties, finding your clit, and he chuckles at your whimper as he starts to rub. “She’s so wet, my sun.” Oberyn coos to Ellaria who kisses down your stomach. Her fingers hook in your panties and she drags them down, exposing Oberyn’s hand rubbing your bundle of nerves.

They have done this before, it’s obvious in the silent coordination. They move together to strip you down and expose your body to their gazes. “Oh fuck.” You whisper, looking down to find her smirking up at you. Kneeling and lifting your leg onto her shoulder before she slides her tongue along Oberyn’s finger and your clit.

Oberyn smirks at your reaction, kissing along your neck as you lean back against him. Ellaria’s tongue slides around your clit, Oberyn’s hand shifting to squeeze your breast so his lover can properly taste you.

Your fingers slide along her jaw and your other hand reaches back to sink into Oberyn’s hair. Using them to anchor yourself so you don’t float away. The irony of being in front of the same windows that you were watching them through isn’t lost on you and it just makes your cunt clench even more. Turning your head, you kiss Oberyn jaw. “Kiss me.” You demand.

He doesn’t deny you. He presses his lips to yours, his tongue immediately sliding into your mouth. Ellaria continues to lap at your clit and you gasp into Oberyn’s mouth, his tongue dominating as he slides it against yours. His fingers pinch your nipples and he groans when you reach behind you to squeeze his cock through his pants.

His cock is large. You already knew that, but the distance had minimized how thick he is. Making you moan into his mouth when you squeeze him again and he twitches against your palm. Ellaria’s tongue is magic, flicking and licking like you have never been licked before. She’s obviously practiced and you can’t find yourself anything but envious of the other lovers for having her attention before now.

Ellaria closes her eyes as she laps at you, reaching around to unbutton Oberyn’s pants, allowing you to pull his cock out. “Shit.” He hisses at the way you immediately squeeze him. He grunts as you start to pump him and Ellaria hums around your clit.

You need more, greedy for it. Your hips push down, begging for more as you pump Oberyn’s cock. His mouth covers yours again, swallowing your moans as the two of them work to tear you apart at the very seam.

Oberyn groans into your mouth when you pump him a little faster. Ellaria laps at your clit and you whine into Oberyn’s mouth until he pulls away. “That’s it, baby. Cum for her. Cum for us.” He demands, pinching your nipples again.

You’re already teetering on the edge. You have been since Ellaria began her gentle and skilled assault on your clit. Building you up so quickly that you didn’t even realize how long you’ve been edged. How your body screams for release. Permission granted, you fall over the edge as he twists your nipples sharply, screaming out in their arms.

Oberyn chuckles against your jaw as you cum, slumping slightly against him. “That’s it, baby. That’s it. Mierda. So pretty when she cums.” He says to Ellaria as she laps at your clit, sliding her tongue between your folds to taste you. “She’s delicious.” She coos, letting your leg down and she stands up, pressing her lips to Oberyn’s so he can taste your tangy cum on her lips. He groans, cupping the back of her neck to taste you from her mouth.

“Let me-“ you pant breathless, watching them kiss and despite the fact that you just came, you want more. Your hands reach out to cup her small breasts and you squeeze them. “Fuck you are so beautiful.”

“Do you want to taste her?” Oberyn asks after pulling his lips away from Ellaria. “Do you wish to lick her cunt while I fuck yours?” He hums, sliding his hands down to squeeze both yours and Ellaria’s ass cheeks in each hand.

“Oh shit.” You whine, cunt clenching desperately at the idea. “I think- that’s- yessssss.” You can’t even articulate how badly you want that. How you want to be completely surrounded by them and lost in their world of pleasure. “I’m clean.” You pant. “I want- cum inside me.”

Oberyn chuckles at your eagerness. “We are clean too.” Oberyn trusts you. He’s had enough experience to know when someone is lying. “You are on birth control?” Oberyn asks, kissing your shoulder up to your neck. “I-IUD.” You manage to choke out and Oberyn bites down on your pulse. “Ellaria, my love, strip and go lay down on the bed. This one wants to taste your sweet nectar.” Oberyn reaches around to playfully smack the ass of his partner. “And you, lay next to her while I strip. I want you to kneel.”

​​You watch Ellaria while she untangles herself from the two of you and saunters into the bedroom. “She is gorgeous, is she not?” Oberyn whispers in your ear. “I can tell, you do not know who you are more interested in. Myself or my lover.” He slides his hand down to rub your clit again. “So you will have both of us. We will take every drop of pleasure you will give us.” You whine breathlessly and nod, closing your eyes.

Ellaria lays down on the bed, now naked and you moan at the sight of her golden glowing skin on display like a goddess. One you want to worship. She crooks her finger at you, beckoning you over, and you waste no time shifting to lay beside her after Oberyn releases you from his grip. You whimper as Ellaria kisses you and Oberyn starts to unbutton his half buttoned shirt, exposing the rest of his chest.

They are so gorgeous. Beautiful in masculine and feminine forms, and so incredibly erotic that it makes your skin tingle. Your hands drift over Ellaria’s body, caressing in and squeezing while you watch Oberyn undress from the corner of your eye.

Oberyn pushes his pants down, feet bare as he steps out of them, and he smirks when your eyes widen as you get a good look at his hard cock. “Kneel on the bed. I want to fuck you.” He orders, his voice demanding yet sensual. Ellaria kisses you one last time and playfully smacks your thigh to silently demand you kneel.

Completely naked, he still looks regal and imposing. Making you feel as if you are kneeling before royalty, although you doubt you would be displaying your wet cunt to a king. You shift your thighs apart, arching your back slightly to make sure he can see how you are dripping as you kneel between Ellaria’s gracefully long legs.

Oberyn caresses your ass as he kneels on the bed behind you. "Too fucking beautiful." He murmurs, "going to see how tight that pussy is." He chuckles, gripping his cock as he shuffles closer.

“Been a long time.” You admit quietly, drinking in the sight of Ellaria’s wet folds. “But I want to make sure your lover enjoys herself too.” You lean in and dive into her cunt with enthusiasm.

Ellaria moans as you slide your tongue through her folds. Oberyn watches her face and his cock twitches in his grip as he slides the head through your wet folds. You’re soaking wet. He pushes into you, slowly, and your moan vibrates against Ellaria’s clit.

He stretches you out, making you gasp in pleasure as you lurch forward. His hips flat against your ass when he’s buried deep. Your tongue flicks over Ellaria’s clit, curling up and then pressing against the bundle of nerves while you push back against the feeling of being impaled.

Oberyn groans as you clench around him. “She’s so tight, my love.” Oberyn coos to his partner. “Tighter than we thought she would be.” He confesses as he starts to move inside of you. Ellaria watches as her lover takes you from behind, her eyes flicking down to watch you as you lap at her clit.

You moan, clenching around him at the idea they had talked about you, wondering about you. Perhaps while Ellaria was sitting on his cock. They had been watching you as well. You suck on her clit and squeeze her thighs. Loving how she rolls her hips down and watches as Oberyn starts to rock into you.

Ellaria moans when you push your tongue inside of her and Oberyn smirks at the look on her face. “She’s done this before. She’s a good girl, isn’t she, my sun? Sucking on your perfect little clit like the voyeuristic whore she is.” He hums playfully, gripping your hips as he starts to rock a little faster.

You whimper and take every thrust of his hips, pushing you into Ellaria. You love it, holding onto her hip and devouring her as you clench around her lover's cock. You are a voyeuristic whore, their whore. You will do anything for them and they’ve barely touched you. Already marking you as theirs while you share their bed.

“She’s enjoying this, lover.” Ellaria purrs as you lap at her clit, making her chest heave with pleasure. “She is. She’s clenching around me.” Oberyn coos, caressing your hips. “She’s greedy. I love it.” He chuckles and thrusts a little harder, pushing you more into his partner’s cunt and you moan into her folds.

She tastes wonderful, tangy and musky. Making you addicted to the slick arousal that seeps from her like honey, thick and luscious on your tongue. His cock shreds up inside you, searching with small adjustments, for that perfect spot until you are crying out when he finds it.

“That’s it.” Oberyn grins victoriously. “Take what I give you, baby.” He grunts, rocking against that spot over and over. “El, I want you to cum for us.” He demands, looking over at his lover. “Cum on her pretty tongue.”

Your nipples harden at the intensity in his tone, eyes watching her and you can see that she's responding to his commands. Her body priming itself to cum just like he wants her to and you double down on the flicks of your tongue, wanting to make her fall apart.

It takes a few more seconds before Ellaria falls over the edge. Her moan echoing in the bedroom and she tilts her head back as she cums. Oberyn smirks as he watches her, loving seeing her pleasure. “You did a good job, baby.” Oberyn compliments you as you work her through it. “She loves it. Look at her face.” He says, grabbing the back of your neck to bring your head up to watch her.

He’s pulsing inside if you, not cumming, just throbbing as he holds you so you can watch Ellaria. Obviously enjoying the sight of his lover’s pleasure himself. Holding still inside you until she is slumped down onto the bed in a pool of limbs and moans.

Oberyn wants you to cum too. He pulls out of you and flips you over, Ellaria’s arms opening to pull you into her lap as Oberyn lifts your legs up onto his forearms. “Want to see your face when you cum.” He smirks, pumping his cock until he’s pushing back inside of you. Ellaria’s hands find your tits, squeezing them and her lips press against your neck while Oberyn watches.

They are completely overwhelming you in the best possible ways. Oberyn’s cock is thick and heavy inside you, starting to move again. “Oh fuck.” You might like looking up at him more than the way his cock feels when he has you from behind. “So good.”

“He’s like a prince. So regal.” Ellaria hums as she kisses your ear while her eyes focus on Oberyn. His jaw is clenched and he squeezes your thighs as he pushes into you, adjusting the angle on each thrust until you cry out. “There it is, lover.” Ellaria coos, her hand snaking down to rub your clit.

“He is.” You pant, nodding agreement as your nipples harden even more. His cock rocking into you and her delicate fingers on your clit is proving to be the most delicious form of torture. “I’m gonna cum.” You gasp out, feeling your body starting to tighten in anticipation.

“Do it. Cum for us.” Ellaria hums, pinching your clit and that sends you over the edge. You clamp down on Oberyn’s cock and he hisses in delight, loving the way you moan his name followed by Ellaria’s. “Mierda. She’s so tight.” Oberyn grunts as your walls flutter around him while you soak him with your orgasm.

The praise makes you keen, the words sounds of pleasure ripping out of your throat as you nearly black out. Feeling him start to slow down his thrusts, you open your eyes in confusion.

He pulls out of you when you relax against Ellaria. “I don’t want to cum yet.” He explains, his cock shiny with your cream and he smirks, shifting to lay down beside you and Ellaria who wastes no time pressing her lips to his. You whimper and Ellaria chuckles as she pulls back from Oberyn, grabbing your neck to push you towards him and his tongue immediately slides into your mouth, his hand squeezing your thigh. “I want you to ride my face while Ellaria rides my cock.” He demands, his cock still hard against his belly.

You moan into his mouth, nodding eagerly. They have completely taken over your senses and you will do anything they want. Sliding back so you can let Oberyn lay back. Leaning over to kiss Ellaria before she straddles his hips.

Oberyn groans as Ellaria sinks down on his cock and he desperately wants you to sit on his face. You don’t deny him as you shift to straddle his chest, shuffling back so you can hover over his face and he quickly pulls you down so your weight is on his mouth.

Oberyn is just as eager of a lover as Ellaria is. His fingers dig into your hips and his tongue is immediately pushing into your soaked walls. Making you cry out in his eagerness to devour you. Blowing past all your imagined scenarios and ideas of what would happen if you were ever with the two of them.

Ellaria reaches out to squeeze your tits as she bounces on Oberyn’s cock like she’s done many times. Oberyn twitches inside of her as she clenches around him and his tongue flicks over your clit, wanting you to grind down on him. His hands squeeze your hips to encourage you to move.

You lean forward, cupping her tits as well, tangling your tongue with hers in a frantic kiss. Your hips start to roll as you ride his tongue, the whiskers of his neat thin beard and mustache rubbing against you wonderfully.

He laps at your clit, loving the way you grind down onto him and Ellaria slides her tongue with yours, her moans smothered by your lips as she rides her partner in a well practiced dance. “Fuck.” Ellaria pants as she pulls back from your lips, her back arching as she grips your shoulders to work herself harder on Oberyn’s cock.

You whine, watching up close and in person the scene that had you in a chokehold since they have moved in. Watching as she rides him and now, you feel his tongue flicking against your clit as he pleasures you at the same time as his lover. It’s everything decadent and wicked, making you wish they had signaled you earlier.

Oberyn groans when he feels how close Ellaria is, his cock twitching inside of her, and he hisses when she starts to cum, clamping down on his cock. His fingers dig into your flesh as he works his jaw wider, tongue lapping at more of you. He’s desperate for you to cum and Ellaria slumps forward against you as she shakes on his cock.

You almost pull away from his tongue, nearly overstimulated by the way his mouth works over your cunt. The pure bliss on Ellaria’s face nearly makes you cum again, and it only takes a few more flicks of Oberyn’s tongue before you are crying out a garbled combination of their names.

Oberyn works you through it, Ellaria caressing your back and kissing along your neck as she shudders through the aftermath of her pleasure. Oberyn groans when Ellaria pulls off of his cock and kneels beside his body, “want us to suck your cock?” She hums, “my lover adores his cock being sucked.” She coos and trails her finger along the slick and creamy velvet of Oberyn’s length. He groans when you lift off of his face and kneel on the other side of his body.

“He deserves to have his cock sucked.” You agree, reaching out to swipe your finger through the juices that are gathered on the tip. Thrilled that all three of you are combined so beautifully. “He has made us cum so thoroughly on it, it deserves to be worshiped.”

Ellaria nods, gripping the base of Oberyn’s cock and he shifts to his elbows to watch two beautiful women work to make him cum. “Suck on the tip. He loves that.” She orders and you do as she says, leaning in to take the tip into your mouth. He groans and Ellaria leans in, her tongue sliding down the length until she is taking his balls into her mouth and rolling them with her tongue. “Fuckkkk.” Oberyn groans, his eyes closing for a second before he opens them.

It’s hedonistic, the way both of you are showering him in pleasure. Like you are whores in a brothel focused on his pleasure alone and it makes you want to make this the best experience he has ever had. Moaning around the tip as you suck greedily.

Oberyn reaches down to caress your cheek before he strokes Ellaria’s head. “Fuck. You two - so cock hungry. My little cock drunk whores.” He chuckles and his stomach clenches as you suck him a little deeper.

Your cunt bottoms out around nothing, aching despite the fact that you’ve already cum three times. Feeling like you might never get enough of these two. Your hand pumps what you aren’t sucking on until Ellaria’s clever mouth starts to work back up from his balls.

Oberyn hisses when Ellaria mouths the side of his cock while you work the tip. His dark eyes taking in the sight of both beautiful women and he hisses when you hollow your cheeks. “That’s it. Shit.” He groans when Ellaria slides her tongue higher to tangle with yours as she laps at the slit.

You’ve never kissed someone with a cock in your mouth but now you love it. Enjoying the way he hisses and his hips buck up to thrust into the space that your tongues are twirling around him. Moaning at the lewdness of the moment and wishing you have a video of this incredible night.

"Fuck. You're going to make me cum." Oberyn warns as you and Ellaria push him further to the edge. Your tongue tangles around the head and your hand rolls his balls while Ellaria pumps the rest of his length. "Mierda. I'm going to - fuckkkkk." He groans as he starts to cum, his hot seed hitting yours and Ellaria's lips.

You don’t try to take his cock down your throat, enjoying the way he spurts his seed over both of your faces and chins. Leaning forward when he’s finally done to kick it from Ellaria’s face with a pleased hum while a breathless Oberyn watches.

Oberyn slumps against the bed for a moment, closing his eyes as he relishes in his orgasm, loving the way you and Ellaria lick his cum off each other’s faces. “So fucking pretty.” He coos, reaching out to caress your lips before he caresses Ellaria’s.

You like his praises, smiling at them both while your body just hums at the satisfying thrill of your orgasms. “That was incredible.” You whisper, knowing that you should probably dress and go back to your apartment.

“It was. We would love to have you here again…if you wish.” Ellaria says, stroking your back. You both shift to lay on either side of Oberyn as he holds his arms out for you both to curl into. “My lover wants more of you.” Oberyn chuckles, “so do I.” He leans in to nudge his nose against yours, “join us again.” He murmurs his request.

It will be the easiest request you’ve ever agreed to. Reaching across him to caress Ellaria’s side as you kiss Oberyn’s chest. “As often as you wish.” You promise. No longer just a voyeur, you will be the one to be envied when someone else watches through the windows.

[bumblesimagines]

Headcanon:

Being Oberyn's lover

Request: Yes or No

Pronouns: They/Them/Theirs, GN!Reader

~~~

Oberyn is an infamous man for several reasons, some of which include the rumors of his usage of poison during duels and an interest in the dark arts. Posion-laced swords and dark arts aside, one of the most notable things about him is his multitude of lovers. From men to women, nobles to brothel workers, Oberyn is no stranger to sex and hardly a stranger to love. He may have a wandering eye but his heart remains fiercely loyal to his lovers/paramours and his many daughters whom he deeply cares for despite their bastard status. 

As such, it is no surprise that you catch Oberyn's eye during one of his trips with Ellaria throughout Westeros. He needs little convincing to speak to you and is as smooth as butter when he begins flirting. While he enjoys giggling maidens or blushing lords, his interest spikes when you come off as indifferent to his charm. He is a Dornishman and Dornishmen love a challenge, especially when he notices your eyes linger on him for far too long to be uninterested. 

Of course, Oberyn mentions his interest to Ellaria, for she is essentially his wife and the mother of many of his daughters. Ellaria provides her approval and encouragement, even going as far as befriending you and acting as some sort of wingwoman to her lover. You quickly put together her involvement in Oberyn's plan to woo you and while it's unusual at first, you learn that it's not so odd in Dorne. A cat-and-mouse game ensues and Oberyn's interest becomes all the more clear to others.

Oberyn's main love languages are gift-giving and physical touch, although he'll provide every other love language known to mankind. Since Oberyn's interest extends past sex, you'll be properly courted by him and this will include countless lavish gifts. He is a prince, after all, and his wealth knows little bounds. You can expect a variety of gifts, from clothes to brooches and anything you can think of. You mention wanting something? Expect that very thing sitting in your room the next day. Oberyn is also very handsy with his lovers and always has a hand on them or has them sit on his lap. He's still a prince and gentleman, however, so he will keep his hands to himself until you are comfortable enough with him. Once he has that green light, expect to find his hand resting on your waist or back, and don't be surprised if it wanders.

 You nod along to the lord as he speaks, absentmindedly listening to the conversation about lands and such. None of it really interests you as you're the thirdborn in your family and the likelihood of you ever needing to know much of what he spoke of was slim. The conversation shifts onto his children as he recalls a funny story and then begins the prodding.

"I hear you remain unwed." The Lord hums thoughtfully and strokes his beard. "We've been searching for someone to wed my second eldest-"

"My Lord," A familiar voice greets from behind and sends a welcomed jolt up your spine, unable to contain the smile before it breaks out on your face. Oberyn steps up beside you and his lips curl up in a genuine smile for you, the palm of his hand pressing soothingly against your lower back and slowly creeping to wrap his fingers around your hip. He holds eye contact, even as he speaks to the man. "I'm afraid I'll have to steal this one from you, My Lord." He simply states and without waiting for a response, he sweeps you away from the sputtering lord. 

"Oberyn," You laugh softly and send an apologetic look over your shoulder right before Oberyn leads you fully out of the room. He spins around on his heel and cups your face, his warm skin pressing against yours. His eyes lack their typical sultriness or grumpiness, instead replaced with a fond look that makes you want to look away. He leans forward and kisses you gently. 

"How are you, dearest?" 

Once Oberyn manages to convince the head of your family, you find your belongings packed and ready for Dorne. Oberyn and Ellaria show great excitement and contentment over this, talking about all the things they wish to show you and the people they want you to meet. Dorne is a hot, desert and mountain-covered region but Sunspear is a gorgeous castle surrounded by the ocean and the shadow city. Oberyn's family is welcoming, if not a bit exhausted with him, but they're still warm and kind to you. Though Doran is semi-distant at first, his children are much friendlier and happy to get to know you. After Doran and his children, Ellaria introduces you to the Sand Snakes, Oberyn's countless daughters. Their reactions vary and some are more welcoming than others but all are accepting of their father's decision to take you as a serious lover.

While eager to show you his home, Oberyn first gets you acquainted with your new bedroom and the bed. Oberyn is a versatile lover, although he enjoys being the one in control most times depending on his mood. You can expect to spend a lot of time in bed with Oberyn, and sometimes even with Ellaria. Oberyn is a giver and he'll often have you pinned beneath him until you can take no longer before peppering you with kisses and cooing gentle words in your ear. 

Oberyn is a thoughtful and dutiful lover who ensures you'll never feel left behind or cast away. However, you must be fine with sharing him with others, and even if you find this difficult at times, Ellaria will provide soothing words of advice and comfort. Oberyn will ensure to push away any worries or insecurities and he'll even encourage you to seek out your own lovers, just as long as you always return to him. 

If you are a lady, you can surely expect to fall with child soon after arriving in Dorne. Ellaria, who basically becomes your sister, tends to you and helps you through the process of pregnancy and labor. Oberyn will grow protective during this time and you'll often find him resting his hand over the bump or speaking to it. He'll ensure you are being treated with the utmost care and by the very best. Whether son or daughter, Oberyn will love his child, and the Sand Snakes will be incredibly protective of their newest sibling. 

Oberyn is one of those lovers that still courts you well into the relationship. He continues providing gifts and trying to make you swoon all over just because he feels like it. Getting with Oberyn means having a thoughtful, open-minded lover, a kind sister, and countless deadly stepdaughters willing to fight in your honor if they have to. 

[palioom]

day seventeen - threesome

pairing: oberyn martell x f!reader x ellaria sand

word count: 723

warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; threesome, f/m, f/f, f/f/m, fingering, face sitting, unprotected sex, creampie, cum play

• kinktober 2023 masterlist •

“Just look at her.” Ellaria cooed, running her knuckles over the other woman’s cheek. All blissed out, eyes glassy and a drunken smile on her face, moans and whimpers falling from her pretty lips where she laid on the silken sheets.

Shaking from Oberyn thrusting into her, forcing her legs to stay open despite the overstimulation, his broad palms on the inside of her thighs. Teeth bared as his hips snapped into hers, the wet sounds obscene.

“She is divine.” He groaned, reaching for his lover's face and pulling her towards him. Needing something to occupy his lips while his cock was buried inside of their partner’s tight cunt. “Just like you, touch her.”

Ellaria grinned into the kiss, her fingers finding the woman’s clit, moaning at the sounds she produced.

“Too much.” She whimpered, back arching and writhing on the bed, her body on fire. They had been in bed for hours, taking turns pleasuring each other, but mostly it was Oberyn and his paramour worshipping her. “Please.”

“She can beg so sweetly.” Ellaria laughed, her other hand reaching for hers and guiding it to her own cunt, humming at the feeling of the fingers beginning to work. Sloppily, too far away in her mind to really be of help, but giving her best. “She certainly deserves a reward, my lover.”

Oberyn grinned, the sight of his two favourite women too much to bear for much longer. One of his hands moved to cup the younger woman’s breast, watching her mouth fall open in a silent plea.

“I think her mouth wishes to be occupied.” He teased, and immediately Ellaria moved to straddle their lover’s face, sinking down upon her as her lips found Oberyn’s again. Moving her hips as fast as she liked, chasing her own pleasure as the eager tongue below her began to lap at her, trembling hands holding onto her tanned thighs.

A symphony of muffled groans and whimpers, Ellaria’s tanned hand still rubbing tight circles into her, glancing at how Oberyn’s cock drove in and out of her.

The younger woman’s body began to tremble, floating on a faraway cloud while every single nerve of hers was assaulted by pleasure. The thick cock which felt so perfect inside of her, the wet squelch of his cum being pushed out of her as he prepared to give her more of him. The divine cunt on her face, sweet and dripping down her chin as she lapped at her, wanting to feel Ellaria cum, wanting to do good for both of them.

Unable to do much more than whimper into her, all while the noises of their lips meeting made her wish she could watch.

“Our sweet dove is close.” Oberyn groaned, his voice strained and his rhythm faltering. Still, he put all of his power into the thrusts, wanting to feel that magnificent cunt around him just once more for tonight. “Such a pretty thing, all for us to do with as we please.”

“She is.” Ellaria agreed, her other hand pinching the woman’s nipple. Her own movements became sloppy, angling herself so her clit got more attention. “The perfect little toy, so eager to please. So deserving of her reward.”

Their voices were muffled by the Dornish woman’s thighs, but what she heard made her whine loudly.

“Cum for us, my dove.” Oberyn demanded, his lips finding Ellaria’s again. “You’ve done well.”

It was as though her own orgasm triggered that of all of them, her body writhing and her cunt convulsing around Oberyn’s cock which began to twitch and spill inside of her. All while Ellaria’s release covered her lower face, the sounds of her moans so beautiful as she came.

Riding out the last waves before they laid down besides another in the silken bedsheets, breathing hard. She could barely feel the soft and rough hands smoothing over her body, mind hazy and completely fucked out.

“She deserves many more rewards.” Ellaria cooed, kissing up her neck, watching Oberyn push the cum back into their lover’s cunt, sucking them clean after. “Don’t you think?”

Oberyn chuckled, nodding. The idea to add a third to them was one of the more brilliant ones they’ve had in recent times, especially with such a sweet thing as the woman laying between them, drifting into slumber.

“Many, many more.”

[moireia]

lost and led by stars — the titles of alyssa snow

"I’ve been given many titles throughout my life. Bastard, Lady, Princess. I have no desire to add Queen amongst them." —Alyssa Martell, 302 AD (inspo)

taglist ✨: @dragonsbone @lorettastwilight @dio-nysvs @julianblackthcrns @arrthurpendragon @endless-lilach @drbobbimorse @luucypevensie @the-witching-ash @megdonnellys @emilykaldwen @ocappreciationtag want to be added/removed? click here!

[crowandmousewritingco]

Pairing: alpha!Oberyn Martell x omega!reader (implied Ellaria x reader)

Word Count: 2.1k

Rating: R (18+ MDNI)

Summary: You've disguised yourself as a beta, but when you run out of supresents theres an alpha there to help.

Author: Mod Mouse

Warning: A/B/O dynamics, knotting, praise, male terms for genitalia. There might be more, but it is 18+.

“Fuck fuck fuck!” You panicked as you scrambled to overturn every inch of your small bedroom. You were due to start your shift soon. The Prince of Dorne and his paramore were visiting their favorite brothel and Littlefinger wouldn’t have it anyway but perfect. 

But unfortunately for you, perfect wasn’t accomplishable. Up until this point, for your safety, you had been disguising yourself as a beta with an abundance of scent blocking gel and suppressants hoping no one would find out. You were a low class omega with no prospects of a mate in your future. You couldn't afford to be without this job. 

The effects of your heat were already pricking at the back of your neck. Waves of warmth spread through your veins like a fire down to your cock. You whimpered as your stomach cramped, and you wished more than anything for the touch of an alpha. But you couldn’t do that. 

Frantically you tried searching again. Maybe a suppressant had dropped on the floor. With an ounce of meager hope you crawled on the rugged floor searching every inch of the place. As the minutes passed with no results, you leaned back on your knees and gripped your hands in your lap to keep them from shaking. Everyone was gonna find out your secret. Tears fell down your cheeks as you cried softly. Your distressed scent wafted throughout your room seeping into the hallway. 

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

“My sun, this place is as elegant as ever,” Oberyn swooned as he glided through the halls of the brothel, admiring everybody present.

“It is stunning as always,” Ellaria replied, wrapping her arm around her lover's waist. “I can’t wait to see where we’ll be staying.” 

“Your room is right this way,” An attendant bowed and gestured to the room at the end of the hall. “I’ll send your dinner soon.” 

“Thank you,” Ellaria said and the attendant bowed once again before turning down a separate hallway. 

The sounds of sex filled their ears as different scents filled the room, both beta and alpha in nature. Oberyn smirked. “What manner of company do you desire my dove?” He asked, pulling Ellaria close to his body. 

Before she could reply, a scent different from the rest of the pheromones wafted through the air. Both of their heads snapped towards the slightly ajar door. Omega. Their eyes found each other. 

“That’s a…” Ellaria started. 

“An omega.” Oberyn took a deep breath taking in your sweet scent. His alpha instincts wanting…no needing to protect you. With a subtle nod to his lover they carefully inched their way closer to your room. 

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

Your whole body shook as you cried. The weight of the situation fills you with the utmost dread. Panic began to set in as you subconsciously wafted the worried scent into the air. 

“Oh sweet thing,” You heard someone coo and your head snapped up. The Prince was here with his love in front of you. Their alpha scents filling your nose with their strong citrus scents, and you had to bite your lip to keep yourself from whimpering. How desperately you wanted them to take care of you but they couldn’t know. 

Quickly you scrambled to stand up despite the cramping in your torso. “M-My apologies, Your Highness. I’ll be ready in a second. I’ve seem to have lost my perfume,” You lied giving them a small bow. 

“It’s okay we know,” Ellaria reassured you in a soft spoken tone. You were a scared rabbit and she didn’t want you to run. 

Your eyes darted between the two alphas, searching for a sign that they were dangerous. Oberyn cautiously held out his hand for you to take. “Let us take care of you right now. Our scents will hide yours.” 

“Okay,” You whispered and gently took Oberyn’s hand in yours allowing yourself to be pulled into his chest. As soon as his alpha scent filled your nose, your instincts kicked in. You nuzzled your nose into the gland on his neck and whimpered as another wave of need flowed through your body. 

Oberyn turned to Ellaria. “Stall the attendants a bit longer and I’ll take care of this sweet omega.” He purred and kissed the top of your head. You keened under the attention of an alpha, and released another wave of sweet pheromones. 

Ellaria gently kissed his cheek before kissing your head savoring the softness of your features. “I’ll give you plenty of time,” She said and slipped out of the room. 

Gently Oberyn tipped your chin up with his ringed finger and you easily obeyed. “Listen little one. We’re gonna go to our room and I’ll make sure you get what you need.” 

You purred a response. Whatever he said was the best idea. Taking your hand in his, he gently pulled you along and easily slipped from your room to his. Oberyn sighed in relief. “Wonderful now we can–little one?” He turned and didn’t see where he left you. 

His eyes danced around the room until they landed on your form gathering the excess of pillows that lined the bed. Omegan instincts kicking in on making the nest perfect. Oberyn watched you, letting you take as long as you needed to make yourself feel safe. 

With pillows and blankets manipulated into the perfect circle of safety, you sat down in the middle and glanced up at Oberyn for reassurance. Oberyn purred and sauntered over to the nest. “Such a good omega,” He kissed your head gently cupping your cheek with his hand. “This is a stunning nest.” 

You perk up and purrs nuzzled into his palm sending your sweet scent into the room again. Another wave of cramps filled your stomach with pain and you whimpered. With big puppy dog eyes you looked up at Oberyn. “Please Alpha, I need you.” 

“And how am I to deny such a nice request?” He cooed. Gently he climbed on top of you and you laid back on the soft mattress spreading your legs for him. 

Oberyn smirked and gently glided his hand up your thigh wasting no time slipping his hands underneath your garments and rubbing your cock with his finger tips. Your hips jerked at the motion and you moaned gripping the sheets beneath you. 

“Poor sweet Omega, been so ready for us,” He praised and rubbed circles along your dick. With one quick swipe he gathered some slick on his finger and brought it to his lips sampling your flavor. “Oh Omega you taste better than Dornish wine. One day I will savor your taste as if it’s my last meal.” 

You squirmed under his gaze loving the approval from him. Oberyn cooed and slid his finger inside of you. “Though such a stunning receptacle needs preparation for my cock.” He purred curling his fingers inside of you. 

Soft whimpers and wet sounds mixed in the room as Oberyn fingers you slowly, spreading his fingers inside of you making sure you were prepared. They way you squeezed his fingers as he inserted another digit inside of you. “That’s it, little one. Such a good Omega for me. Almost ready for my cock.” Oberyn grinned, pumping them faster and faster. 

You clenched around him as your high was speeding towards you. The heat flush and the attention of this alpha, sending you to a quick orgasm. But Oberyn had other plans. Slowly he pulled his fingers from you with a wet slick. You whimpered and wiggled your hips needing more attention. 

“Easy omega, I will give you want you want my sweet, but let me care for you.” He purred and wrapped his arms around your torso pulling you to his heated chest. Quickly you kissed him as the touch of his skin grounding your from the mess in your head. Oberyn kissed your with such delicacy it was as if you were a hand crafted vase in the halls of his castle. 

You cooed under his attention as he kissed down your neck, beard tickling your heated skin. “But for now a good omega deserves a nice knot.” He purred, kissing up and down your neck teasing your scent glands with a playful nip. Gently he laid you back against the soft silk blankets. 

“Fuck Alpha please.” You pleaded gripping onto his golden robes. 

Oberyn chuckled softly and gently shushed you. “Easy Omega, I promise you’ll get my knot.” 

You panted as you laid against the pillow as the prince stood up for the briefest of moments. He quickly untied the laces, letting his pants pool by his feet. The embroidered jacket followed soon after leaving his naked form in front of you. You braced yourself on your arms and your eyes hungrily took the cock already hard and wanting your hole. 

“Look what you’ve done to me little one,” Oberyn praised as his fingers grazed his already forming knot. Slowly he sauntered back over to the bedside, carefully kneeling between your already spread legs. “I’m gonna take such good care of you.” 

Up and down he swiped the head of this cock through your slit gathering your slick on his dick. He teased your hole earning a whine from you. Oberyn didn’t keep you waiting long. Carefully he pushed deep into the ready hole until his half knot pressed against your entrance. Oberyn moaned, loving the way you squeezed around him. “Good omega, such a needy little thing you are.” 

All you could do was pant and whine. Your instincts subsiding now that it’s gotten what you desired so badly. Your hips bucked trying to receive any more friction. Oberyn chuckled and slowly started moving his hips, teasing you with agonizingly slow thrusts. “Oh does this little omega need more?” He teased. 

“Please please please alpha I want your knot.” You whine as each thrust hits in just the right spots. 

“As much as I would love to spend hours teasing and edging such sweet sounds from those handsome lips, for now I’ll help you with those rolling waves of need.” He snapped his hips forward and his large hand grasping at your hips as Oberyn pounded into you. 

Needy moans escaped your lips as you reached for anything to grab, anything to ground you from the intense pleasure you were feeling. You were so close. The heat of your approaching orgasm mixing with the heat of need to be filled by an alpha. You clenched around him at the thought of him filling you with his seed. 

A cocky smirk graced his lips as he felt how close you were. “That’s it, little one. Cum for your Alpha.” He commanded as he felt his knot catch against your hole with every thrust. That was all you needed to finish. Legs shook as you clenched around his knot, keeping him inside of you as you rode out your high. 

It wasn’t long after Oberyn moaned as he pushed his knot inside of you, spilling his seed in your waiting hole. Spurt after spurt filling your needy hole and you loved every second. Oberyn gathered up in his arms as the last of his seed dribbled out. Together you panted, pressed against his bare chest. 

A sudden tiredness washed over you and you cuddled into his comforting skin. Oberyn nuzzled his nose into your scent glands and carefully turned you so you could rest against him. “Rest sweet omega. Gain the needed strength for many more rounds.” You nodded sleepily and soon you were fast asleep in his arms. 

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

It wasn’t long after when Ellaria slipped back into the room carrying an armful of blankets. Oberyn who had been keeping a very watchful eye over you glanced up at his love. “Thank you for the distraction.” 

“Of course, my sun. You know I like this omega as much as you do,” She smirked clearly seeing the forming devotion in his eyes. 

Oberyn was silent for a moment gently twirling your hair in his fingers. The softness of the strands fueling his forming attachment. “We should take him with us. Omegas are much safer in Dorne than in this godforsaken place.” 

Ellaria set the extra blankets beside the bed gently running a finger down your sleeping cheek. “Yes but that’s their decision to make.” 

“Of course. I hope they say yes. They would love Dorne,” Oberyn purred gently kissing your forehead. 

Ellaria carefully leaned over kissing her lover's cheek. “As much as I agree with you, you need rest too. I’ll keep a watch while you rest my love.” 

Oberyn purred and pulled your sleeping form flush with his body as he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

```````

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AS GOOD A REASON - CH. 4 | OBERYN MARTELL

Chapter Four: I Will Be Your Executioner

Summary: You, who has made it her life's work to get retribution on those who mistreated and harassed you when you were a child. The scars on your body are a physical reminder of the suffering you endured at the hands of abusers, and they also provide the fuel for your years-long quest for retribution.

Paring: Oberyn Martell x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, MINORS GO AWAY, GoT is full of serious and harmful topics, mentions of SA, Rape (not the reader), Murder, Violence, Gore, War, Poison, Scars, Burns, Scratching, Su!c!de, AU, Age–Gap Romance, Angst, FLUFF, Eventual SMUT, Swearing, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, Blood, War, Religion References, Nudity, Domestic Abuse, Incest, Prostitution, Weapons, Fire, Horror, Character Deaths, Rewrite Alternate Universe, Sex, Alcohol, Revenge, Panic Attacks, Anxiety Attack,

Word Count: 9k

A/N: OMFGGGGGG I’m actually writing non-stop. Wtf. Guys this part is heavily inspired by many quotes from the Glory. It’s so goooooddd! Go watch it. ALSO LMAO sorry for the chonky chapter. Hope you enjoy!

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: No Choir by Florence + The Machine

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THE WEDDING RECEPTION  

KING'S LANDING GARDEN, RED KEEP — AFTERNOON

The once-vibrant garden has turned into a scene from a nightmare. Joffrey’s lifeless body lies in his mother’s lap, the blood trickling from his nose and mingling with the vomit caking his lips. Cersei’s scream cuts through the chaos like a blade, her finger trembling as it points directly at Tyrion. 

"You did this! You did this!" she shrieks, her voice cracking with grief and rage.

Tyrion barely has time to react before three guards seize him from behind, their grip firm, dragging him back. The entire court is thrown into disarray, nobles scrambling, unsure where to look or what to say. The shock hangs in the air, heavy and suffocating.

Your eyes flick to Sansa as she watches, wide-eyed and frozen in place. Ser Dontos Hollard, the fool, sidles up to her, his face pale with urgency.

“We have to leave,” he whispers frantically, his hand tugging at her sleeve.

Sansa looks to you, her expression a mix of confusion and terror, searching for an answer. You meet her gaze and give the smallest, subtlest nod, speaking in the quietest voice that only she can hear.

"Run."

You keep your posture relaxed, every movement calculated, as though the chaos around you is nothing but a passing storm. Let it swirl, let them scream, none of it touches you.

Cersei’s piercing voice shatters the air again. “Take him! Take him!”

The guards drag Tyrion away through the crowd, his face a mask of resignation. You shift, sliding further to the edge of the gathering, your eyes tracking Sansa as she and Ser Dontos disappear, swallowed by the throng of horrified nobles. As Cersei’s head whips around, searching for a new target for her grief, her shrill voice rises again.

"Where is his wife? Where's Sansa?!"

Tywin's voice booms over the garden, commanding attention with the force of authority, “Find her. Bar the gates of the city. Seize every ship in the harbor.”

The tension mounts as Cersei, distraught and frenzied, clings to Tywin. “Where is she?!”

“No one leaves the capital!" Tywin's voice echoes like a decree from the gods themselves. "No one!”

The wheels are turning, but you remain steady, unmoved, watching everything unfold like a distant observer.

KING'S LANDING, RED KEEP — DUSK

The bells toll ominously across the city, signaling not just the king's death but the beginning of a lockdown. What had begun as a celebration of young love and power had spiraled into a suffocating horror—a wedding turned funeral. The streets were locked down, the gates barred, and whispers spread like wildfire among the servants. Every corner of the Red Keep hummed with dread.

You sat in the dim light of your chambers, fingers tracing over the pages of your journal. On the list of names you had scrawled, Joffrey’s stood out, now crossed out in thick ink. The weight of his demise did not lift your heart, but there was a cold satisfaction in seeing that line through his name. 

A knock on your door broke the silence. You didn’t even look up, your voice calm, measured. “Enter.”

Serena stepped in, her movements quiet and careful as she shut the door behind her, turning the lock with a soft click before coming to sit beside you. Her eyes fell to your journal, to the page you’d been reading, and her gaze lingered on the crossed-out name.

Her voice was soft when she asked, “Did you…”

You didn’t hesitate. “It wasn’t me who slipped the poison.” Your tone was blunt, matter-of-fact. Serena was smart—she could piece together the rest on her own. She nodded slowly, absorbing the truth behind your words.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said softly. “I’d still like to thank you. For doing this.”

Her gratitude was real, but it didn’t touch you. Nothing did anymore. You turned to her, your expression as unreadable as stone.

"I didn’t do it for thanks," you said, your voice as cold as the air before a storm. “I did it because people like him—people like them—will only understand one thing from now on.” You paused, holding Serena’s gaze, unblinking. “They will suffer, just as we have.”

Serena nodded, her lips tightening into a thin line. She knew. She understood.

And so, your revenge continued. Joffrey’s name may have been crossed out, but there were others. And as you sat there, cold and detached, you knew this was only the beginning of a longer reckoning. The suffering had only just begun.

THE NEXT DAY 

STREETS OF SILK, CHATAYA’S BROTHEL — DAY

The city pulsed with a nervous energy, the fallout of Joffrey’s death rippling through every alleyway, every corner of King’s Landing. It was rare for you to have a day free from the palace, but amidst the chaos, no one had cared when a few servants slipped away. The Red Keep had become a den of paranoia, each person trying to avoid the eye of suspicion. A perfect time to disappear—even if just for a while.

As you walked through the streets, your steps silent, deliberate, you overheard a conversation between two guards. Their voices were low, yet their words unmistakable. Tywin plans to confront Oberyn. The Hand of the King knew of Oberyn's frequent visits to Chataya’s brothel—it was no secret that the Dornish prince indulged himself openly. Tywin’s suspicions were spreading like wildfire, and you needed to be there to hear what he might uncover.

Pulling your cloak tight around you, you kept to the shadows, slipping between the narrow alleys that twisted like veins through the streets of silk. The map of the city was etched into your mind as clearly as the secrets you kept—memorized over years of service, of watching and waiting. 

You reached the brothel just as the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the cobblestones. Slipping through the back door, you moved with the practiced silence of someone who knew how to remain unseen. A shadow among shadows. The moans and laughter of the brothel’s patrons created a cover of noise, perfect for hiding in plain sight.

The scent of incense and sweat filled the air, thick and cloying, but you barely noticed. Your eyes were fixed ahead, scanning for any sign of Tywin or his men. You crept further into the brothel, slipping behind a large stone pillar that stood near one of the darker corners of the room. Hidden in the gloom, you were just another part of the architecture, unseen, unnoticed.

The dagger strapped to your thigh pressed reassuringly against your skin, a small comfort in the uncertainty of the moment. You had long since learned that in King’s Landing, secrets and steel were your best companions. One cut as deep as the other, and both had their uses. If anyone saw you, anyone grew suspicious—you would be ready.

You crouched lower behind the pillar, listening as Oberyn’s voice carried faintly from one of the rooms. His tone was as smooth and dangerous as ever, a man who never feared consequences, not even from Tywin Lannister. You stayed still, your heart steady but your mind sharp, waiting for the moment when Tywin would confront him. 

You could feel it—the unraveling was only just beginning. The tension in the city would soon give way to something far darker, and you were determined to be ahead of it, to see everything before it was hidden away in shadows again.

As footsteps echoed down the hall, heavier, more deliberate, you pressed further into the shadows. Tywin. You could not afford to be seen, but you could not afford to miss this either. Information was your weapon. And today, you would sharpen it.

Just in time, you watched as three naked whores and Ellaria Sand stepped out of one of the rooms. Her dark, wavy hair cascaded down her bare shoulders as she laughed softly, her gaze briefly scanning the room before she and the others disappeared down the hall. The guards trailed after them, though one remained standing by the entrance. Close, but not too close.

The door to Oberyn’s room was slightly ajar.

You slipped inside with practiced precision, the heavy scent of incense clinging to the air. The room was bathed in the warm, golden light of the midday sun, filtering through the heavy curtains. Oberyn Martell was seated on the bed, shirtless and glistening with sweat, his bronzed skin catching the light as he stretched with the grace of a panther. The gods must have shown you some favor—he was still clothed from the waist down. 

His gaze shifted lazily toward you, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as if your presence amused him. He knew you were there long before you entered.

“Would you like to sit?” he asked, his voice low, teasing. He gestured casually toward a chair in the corner, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Tywin Lannister stood at the other end of the room, his expression as hard as stone, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of irritation. “No, thank you,” Tywin replied curtly, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

Oberyn’s movements were slow, deliberate, as he rose from the bed, his lean body practically dripping with confidence. He stepped toward a small cart by the window, where a tray of wine and goblets waited. “Some wine?” he offered again, pouring himself a generous amount, the dark liquid swirling in the cup.

Tywin, still standing near the door, remained unmoved. “No, thank you,” he repeated.

Oberyn, with a patterned towel draped over his shoulder, took a slow sip of the wine, his eyes never leaving Tywin’s. “I'm sorry about your grandson,” he said smoothly, though the sincerity in his tone was questionable.

Tywin’s lips twitched, barely containing his disdain. “Are you?” he asked, the question laced with accusation.

Oberyn shrugged, moving across the room like a predator sizing up his prey. “I don't believe a child is responsible for the sins of his father. Or his grandfather. An awful way to die.” His voice was casual, but his eyes—those dark, piercing eyes—were watching Tywin’s every move.

The tension in the room was recognizable, thick enough to choke on. You remained hidden in the shadows, every word falling like stones in a still pond, sending ripples of suspicion through the air.

“Which way is that?” Tywin asked, his voice sharp.

Oberyn tilted his head, a sly smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Are you interrogating me, Lord Tywin?” he purred, settling onto a plush bed of pillows, lounging with the practiced grace of a man who feared nothing.

“Some believe the king choked,” Tywin mused, watching Oberyn closely.

“Some believe the sky is blue because we live inside the eye of a blue-eyed giant,” Oberyn replied, his tone mocking. He took another sip of wine before adding, “The king was poisoned.”

Tywin’s eyes narrowed, the faintest hint of suspicion creeping into his expression. “I hear you studied poisons at the Citadel.”

Oberyn’s smile widened, like a cat who had caught the scent of a mouse. “I did. This is why I know.”

Tywin’s voice dropped, edged with danger. “Your hatred for my family is rather well known. You arrive at the capital, an expert in poisoning, and days later my grandson dies of poisoning.”

Oberyn didn’t miss a beat. “Rather suspicious,” he agreed with a chuckle. “Why haven’t you thrown me in a dungeon?”

Tywin's gaze hardened. “You spoke with Tyrion in this very brothel on the day that you arrived. What did you discuss?”

“You think we conspired together?” Oberyn raised an eyebrow, amused.

“What did you discuss?”

Oberyn’s playful demeanor faltered, as he moved to stand, approaching Tywin, his voice dropping into something darker, colder. “The death of my sister.”

Tywin did not flinch, though his eyes gave away nothing. “For which you blame me.”

Oberyn leaned forward slightly, his voice like steel wrapped in silk. “She was raped and murdered by the Mountain. The Mountain follows your orders. Of course I blame you.”

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken threats. You remained perfectly still, your heart a steady drumbeat in your chest as you watched the two men circle each other, both poised for an attack that would never come.

Tywin, calm as ever, gave the faintest shrug. “Here I stand unarmed, unguarded. Should I be concerned?”

Oberyn smiled, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “You are unarmed and unguarded because you know me better than that. I am a man of reason. If I cut your throat today, I will be drawn and quartered tomorrow.”

“Men at war commit all kinds of crimes without their superiors' knowledge,” Tywin said, almost conversationally.

“So you deny involvement in Elia's murder?”

Tywin’s voice remained steady. “Categorically.”

Oberyn’s gaze sharpened, his smile fading into something colder. “I would like to speak with the Mountain.”

“I’m sure he would enjoy speaking with you,” Tywin said evenly.

Oberyn’s lips curled into a grim smile. “He might not enjoy it as much as he thinks he would.”

Tywin’s eyes flickered with a dangerous glint. “I could arrange for this meeting.”

Oberyn’s brow arched, intrigued. “But you want something in return.”

Tywin’s voice was calm, measured. “There will be a trial for my son. As custom dictates, three judges will render a verdict. I will preside. Mace Tyrell will serve as the second judge. I would like you to be the third.”

Oberyn’s amusement returned, but his tone remained cautious. “Why?”

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

Oberyn shrugged, taking another sip of his wine. “Well, you made the Tyrell girl a queen. Asking me to judge at your son's trial isn't quite as tempting.”

Tywin stepped forward, his voice dropping low. “I will also invite you to sit on the small council to serve as one of the new king's principal advisors.”

Oberyn studied Tywin, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I never realized you had such respect for Dorne, Lord Tywin.”

“We are not the Seven Kingdoms until Dorne returns to the fold,” Tywin replied, his voice cold, calculated. “The king is dead. The Greyjoys are in open rebellion. A wildling army marches on the Wall. And in the East, a Targaryen girl has three dragons. Before long, she will turn her eyes to Westeros. Only the Dornish managed to resist Aegon Targaryen and his dragons.”

Oberyn’s smile returned, slow and sharp. “You're saying you need us? That must be hard for you to admit.”

Tywin’s expression didn’t change. “We need each other. You help me serve justice to the king's assassins, and I will help you serve justice to Elia's.”

The room seemed to hold its breath as Oberyn fell silent, his gaze turning inward, distant, as if he were calculating a hundred possibilities all at once. The tension lingered, thick and unspoken, between him and the absent Tywin. The delicate balance of power that had just played out was clear—two predators circling one another, masking threats with diplomacy.

You pressed yourself deeper into the shadows, watching Oberyn with a sharp, practiced gaze. His expression remained contemplative, still lost in the aftermath of his exchange with Tywin. Outside the room, the echo of Tywin’s footsteps faded into the distance, and the door clicked shut with finality, leaving behind an uneasy stillness that hung thick in the air.

But you had lingered too long. In a silent breath, you pulled back into the shadows, slipping toward the door like a shadow yourself. You moved swiftly, soundless, as you had been trained—disappearing without a trace. The world outside was teeming with noise and life, but none of it noticed your departure. You melted into the alleyways, your cloak drawn close, your steps swift and measured as you darted through the maze of streets that threaded King’s Landing. 

The market was alive with its usual chaos, the scent of spices mingling with the salt of the sea, merchants shouting over one another, selling everything from silks to stale bread. You wove through the crowds, your face hidden beneath the hood of your cloak, eyes scanning your surroundings. You had always known how to vanish in plain sight.

But then, the sound hit you.

A sharp sizzle, the searing of meat against hot metal. Your steps faltered as the scent of charred pork filled the air, thick and overwhelming, clinging to your skin like smoke. For a moment, the world around you seemed to blur—the market, the people, the shouts—it all dimmed. Your breath caught in your throat, your chest tightening as the memories surged, unbidden, unstoppable.

Flames licking at your skin, the scent of burning flesh, the sound of your own screams echoing in the back of your mind. The fire that had marked you, that had seared itself into your memory, now clawed its way to the surface.

Your hands trembled as you stumbled into a corner of the street, your back pressed hard against the cool stone of a wall. The sounds of the market seemed distant now, drowned out by the roar of the fire in your mind. The panic clawed at your chest, squeezing tighter and tighter until it felt like you couldn’t breathe. 

You gasped, desperate for air, the weight of your cloak suddenly too heavy, the noise of the market too loud. The edges of your vision blurred, and the ground beneath you felt like it was spinning. The world seemed to close in on you, suffocating, the past and present melding into one.

Burning.

You clenched your fists, nails digging into your palms in an attempt to ground yourself, to remind yourself that you were no longer there. But the searing sound, the scent—it was too much. The memories flooded you, pulling you under. You pressed your back harder into the wall, trying to fight your way out of the suffocating panic, trying to escape the fire that only existed in your mind.

But it felt so real.

Your breaths came in short, shallow gasps, and your vision swam. You had to get out. Away from the market, away from the noise, away from the memory that gripped you like a vice. You pushed yourself off the wall, your legs shaky but determined, and forced yourself back into the crowd, pulling your cloak tighter around you.

With every step, you fought to steady your breathing, to clear the haze from your mind. The streets blurred around you as you moved, each footfall feeling heavier than the last, but you pressed on. Away from the market. Away from the sound.

Away from the fire.

KING'S LANDING, RED KEEP — AFTERNOON

By the time you returned to the castle, fatigue weighed heavily on your limbs. The maze of tunnels under the Red Keep stretched out before you like a winding serpent, familiar yet suffocating. Each step felt heavier than the last, your breath shallow, as the cool stone walls seemed to press closer. 

As you rounded a corner, your thoughts interrupted by hurried footsteps, you almost collided with someone—Podrick Payne. His wide-eyed expression immediately softened when he realized it was you.

“Oh, my apologies,” Podrick stammered, stepping back in his usual bashful manner. 

You shook your head, waving off the apology. "No, it was my fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going."

He hesitated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Oh well…"

There was something about his awkwardness, a sincerity in the way he held himself. Podrick was kind, genuine—a rarity in King's Landing. You had a peculiar way of prying information from him without much effort. It wasn’t something you set out to do, but it was almost as though the right questions spilled from your lips, and he couldn’t help but answer.

You tilted your head slightly, eyes narrowing as you noticed the tension in his shoulders. "Are you heading somewhere urgent?"

Podrick blinked in surprise, glancing at the wineskin he carried. “Yes, I’m on my way to see Lord Tyrion in the cells.”

Your gaze dropped to the wineskin, lips curving into a faint smirk. "You’re bringing him wine?"

He nodded, looking somewhat guilty, as though he’d been caught red-handed. 

"The guards will take it from you, you know that, right?"

Podrick’s expression flickered with brief defeat, but he nodded again. The innocence in his eyes spoke volumes, but you weren’t fooled. Deep down, you knew he was smuggling more than just wine. You sighed, rubbing your temples as the exhaustion from the day wore at your patience.

"They've chosen the judges for his trial," you added, your voice soft but deliberate.

Podrick glanced around as if someone might overhear, then leaned in slightly. “I heard. Lord Tywin, Mace Tyrell, and Prince Oberyn of Dorne."

"Word travels fast," you murmured, more to yourself than to him. Your eyes drifted over his face, reading the tension etched into his features. His frown deepened, and you couldn’t help but ask, “What’s wrong? You’re frowning.”

Podrick’s sigh was almost inaudible, but in the quiet of the dimly lit tunnel, it seemed to echo. He lowered his voice as if confessing a secret. "There’s something else. A man—someone I didn’t know—came to me. He asked if I’d testify against Lord Tyrion. Said I’d be named Ser Podrick Payne if I told the judges Tyrion bought a poison called the Strangler.”

Your stomach twisted at the mention of the poison, but your expression remained impassive. You frowned, though, as the weight of his words sank in. Podrick, in his innocence, stood at the crossroads of something much darker than he fully understood.

"You…" You took a slow, deep breath, steadying your tone. "Lord Tyrion has been kind to you."

He met your gaze, his eyes filled with uncertainty. "He has."

There was a heavy silence between you, the kind that lingered just long enough to feel uncomfortable. The weight of your secrets hung in the air, unspoken, but Podrick wasn’t foolish. He knew you were holding back, but he never pressed. 

"Do you know what happened?" he asked softly, as though afraid of the answer. His voice was tentative, laced with the hope that you might offer him clarity. "Who did it?"

You blinked, your gaze distant, the apathy you had so carefully cultivated slipping back into place. His question lingered, but you gave him no answer—just a soft pat on his shoulder, a rare gesture of kindness in a world that had none to spare.

"You better be careful, Podrick," you said, your voice low, carrying a quiet weight. "You’re one of the rare ones out there who are truly good. Take care of yourself."

His lips parted as if to say something more, but you had already turned away, disappearing into the shadows of the castle, leaving him standing there beneath the flickering torchlight.

KING’S LANDING, QUAY OF THE PORT BY THE SEA OF THE RED KEEP — AFTERNOON

The salty breeze whipped across the sea, crashing waves against jagged rocks below as you crouched beneath the cliffsides. Hidden from sight, you watched with keen eyes as Jaime Lannister and Bronn sparred near the water's edge, the sound of clashing steel ringing in the air.

Jaime’s face was flushed, his breath labored, but his movements were sharper than before. He spun his sword with renewed vigor, pressing the attack against Bronn. But the sellsword was as sharp as ever, his parries quick, his footwork steady. They deadlocked, Jaime’s golden hand clashing with Bronn’s grip. With a wicked grin, Bronn swatted Jaime across the face, sending him sprawling onto the ground with an unceremonious thud.

Jaime let out a grunt, pushing himself up from the dirt. “What the hell was that?” he spat, wiping the dust from his tunic.

Bronn tossed Jaime’s golden hand back to him with a smirk. “That was me knocking your ass to the dirt with your own hand."

Jaime caught it, shaking his head. “You’re a rare talent. When you’re fighting cripples, anyway.”

“You learned to fight like a good little boy," Bronn quipped, his grin widening. "I’ll bet that thrust through the Mad King’s back was pretty as a picture. You want to fight pretty, or you want to win?”

Jaime’s jaw clenched. “You talk to my brother this way?”

“All the time. He got used to it.”

They sat together on a low stone wall, the tension easing between them. Jaime took a swig from a wineskin before handing it to Bronn.

“Do you think he did it?” Jaime asked, his voice low, hesitant.

Bronn shook his head. “No. Oh, he hated the little twat, sure. But who didn’t? Poison’s not his style. Or murder, for that matter. You want to know for sure, why don’t you ask him?”

Jaime remained silent, his gaze distant.

“You haven’t been to see him yet, have you?” Bronn probed, his tone carrying an edge of judgment.

Jaime stood abruptly, tossing the wineskin back to Bronn. “We’re done for today.”

As Jaime walked away, Bronn called out, “Your brother ever tell you how I came into his service?”

Jaime paused, his back still turned. “You stood for him in his trial by combat at the Eyrie.”

“Aye,” Bronn replied, his voice steady. “But only when Lady Arryn demanded the trial take place that day. You were his first choice. He named you for his champion because he knew you’d ride day and night to fight for him. You gonna fight for him now?”

Jaime’s silence lingered, the weight of Bronn’s words hanging in the air as he disappeared into the distance. 

Once Jaime was gone, Bronn stood alone, shaking his head. That’s when you emerged from your hiding spot, the faint sound of your boots scraping against the stone catching his attention. He turned, spotting you walking towards him, your loose long-sleeve tunic billowing slightly in the wind, trousers and boots practical for the sparring you had in mind. The sword sheathed at your side glinted in the afternoon light, a far cry from the ladylike appearance most would expect.

You let out a low whistle, drawing a chuckle from Bronn as you approached. “You really handed it to him, huh?” you remarked, eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Who knew today would be the day you make a joke?” Bronn quipped, his smirk never far from his lips.

You huffed, crossing your arms. “Might as well get a laugh in once in a while.”

Bronn gave you a quick once-over, his eyes sharp as always. “You here to practice?”

In response, you tossed a small pouch of gold coins at him, which he caught with a practiced ease. “It’s been a while. Was wondering if you were simply busy or if you’d run off.”

You shrugged, the weight of the past few days pressing on your shoulders. “Well, it hasn’t been quiet at the Red Keep.”

“Aye,” Bronn said with a knowing look, his expression softening for just a moment. Then, with his usual swagger, he added, “Well, let’s see if that sword of yours still works.”

The two of you squared off, the tension of the moment melting into the familiar rhythm of training. Bronn was a formidable opponent—quick, sharp, and never one to play by the rules. He tested you immediately, launching a fast strike aimed at your side. You parried it easily, the weight of your sword light in your hands.

"You've gotten faster," Bronn noted, his tone almost begrudging as he stepped back to assess you, his sharp eyes taking in every movement, every subtle shift of your stance. 

You shrugged, gripping your sword a little tighter, the weight of his words sinking in deeper than he realized. Faster—it wasn’t just speed you needed. Strength. Precision. Ruthlessness. All of it would be necessary if you were going to do what needed to be done. Your thoughts flickered briefly to him, to the Mountain, and the moment you had been turning over in your mind, rehearsing endlessly in the quiet of your own head.

One well-placed strike—that’s all it would take. You’d studied his movements, watched how he fought. Brutal. Unforgiving. He crushed his opponents like insects beneath his feet, but there was always a weakness. There had to be. You just had to find it, and when you did, the Mountain would fall.

But you didn’t say that out loud.

Instead, you offered Bronn a casual shrug, masking the storm of thoughts beneath your calm expression. “Learned a few tricks while I was busy,” you replied with a half-smile, keeping your voice light.

Bronn smirked, though his eyes still lingered on you as if trying to peel back the layers of your thoughts. "Busy, huh? Hope those tricks keep you alive long enough to show me more."

He didn’t press, and you were grateful for it. There was no need to tell him, not yet. The time would come soon enough, and when it did, you'd be ready.

A FEW DAYS LATER

KING'S LANDING, THE THRONE ROOM — DAY

You stand off to the side, shrouded in the shadows of the grand pillars, your eyes flickering over the scene before you like a predator studying its prey. The High Septon stands at the heart of it all, his voice booming as he leads the coronation of Tommen Baratheon. The crowd has gathered, a sea of nobles dressed in their finest silks, feigning respect and devotion. Your gaze drifts, settling momentarily on Ser Jaime Lannister, who patrols near the back, his golden hand gleaming in the soft light.

"May the Warrior grant him courage and protect him in these perilous times," the High Septon intoned, his voice heavy with ceremony. "May the Smith grant him strength that he might bear this heavy burden. And may the Crone, she that knows the fate of all men, show him the path he must walk and guide him through the dark places that lie ahead."

Tommen’s face, still soft with boyish innocence, betrays the weight of the moment. You can see it in his eyes—the bewilderment, the fear hidden behind a facade of calm. He’s a puppet, and the strings are woven through the hands of those more powerful. But he’s not the one you’re watching.

The High Septon finishes, his hands raised toward the heavens. "In the light of the Seven, I now proclaim Tommen of the House Baratheon, First of His Name. King of the Andals and the First Men and Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. Long may he reign!"

"Long may he reign!" the crowd echoes in unison, their voices a rehearsed chorus.

Your eyes narrow as Tommen bows, exchanging a fleeting glance with Margaery Tyrell. The hint of a smile plays on her lips, barely noticeable unless you knew what to look for. It’s the look of a woman who knows exactly what she wants—and how to get it. Cersei sees it too, her expression tightening, though she maintains her grace.

You smirk to yourself. The plot never stops, not for a moment.

The grand hall is quieter now, though the air still buzzes with soft chatter. Tommen sits awkwardly on the Iron Throne, his small frame swallowed by its looming presence. Tywin Lannister stands beside him, commanding the room with nothing but his cold, stern silence. The line of courtiers shuffles forward, each taking their turn to bow and offer hollow pleasantries.

"Your Grace," Grand Maester Pycelle rasps, his aged voice grating against your ears.  

"Your Grace," Varys follows, his tone smooth, unreadable.

Tommen exchanges nods and small smiles, barely keeping up the appearance of a ruler. Margaery lingers nearby, her gaze soft but calculating. It’s Cersei’s eyes that catch yours, though, burning with possessiveness and suspicion as they land on Margaery.

Your fingers twitch at your side, the weight of your dagger pressing against your thigh through the fabric of your cloak. There’s no need for it now, but the comfort of steel is a constant reminder of why you’re here—watching, waiting, collecting secrets like coins.

The crowd parts as Cersei approaches Margaery, offering smiles to the onlookers as she moves through the room with the grace of a lioness on the hunt. You observe it all, taking in the flickers of power, the undercurrents that ripple beneath the surface of every interaction.

You sigh, stepping away from the scene and slipping back into the shadows. There’s nothing more to see here. The coronation is just another piece in the larger puzzle, and the trial—the real battle—is yet to come. Your secrets can wait, for now.

KING'S LANDING, THE GARDEN — DAY

The day was warm, the sun casting a golden glow over the lush greenery of the royal gardens. The scent of blooming flowers mingled with the salty air from the sea, but none of that registered as you went about your tasks. Servant duties, tedious and endless, consumed most of your time. Today, it was carrying supplies from the kitchen to the gardens—bundles of herbs, fresh fruits, a few linens. You balanced them carefully in your arms, eyes scanning for a spot to drop them off before you moved to the next errand.

As you passed through the garden's winding paths, the soft murmur of voices caught your attention. You stilled, instinctively pressing yourself into the shade of a tall shrub, out of sight. The voices were familiar—Cersei Lannister and Oberyn Martell. The temptation to eavesdrop, to gather just a bit more information for yourself, was too great to resist.

You shifted slightly, your heart thudding in your chest, trying not to rustle the bushes as you angled your body closer. From where you stood, you had a clear view of Oberyn sitting on a stone bench, writing on a scroll. He paused as Cersei approached, her guards flanking her.

"Your Grace," Oberyn greeted her, his voice low and polite as he stood.

Cersei’s cold smile barely reached her eyes. "Prince Oberyn. Writing letters?"

"A poem, actually," Oberyn replied, his tone light, yet unreadable.

Cersei’s eyebrow raised slightly, more curious than amused. "May I show you the gardens?"

Oberyn glanced down at the scroll he had been working on before standing fully to his feet. "I couldn’t very well refuse a royal escort."

"No, you couldn’t," Cersei said, a slight edge in her voice. You could almost see the power shift between them as they started walking side by side through the winding paths of the garden, their steps measured, calculated.

You trailed discreetly behind them, clutching your bundle tightly, ears straining to catch every word.

"I didn’t realize you were a poet," Cersei remarked, her voice laced with feigned curiosity.

Oberyn chuckled. "Not a very good one."

"For your paramour?"

"For one of my daughters," Oberyn corrected, his voice softening at the mention of his children.

Cersei’s eyes flicked toward him. "You have several, don’t you?"

"Eight," he said, a touch of pride in his voice.

"Eight? Eight daughters?" Cersei repeated, incredulous.

Oberyn nodded. "The fifth is difficult. I named her after my sister, Elia."

At the mention of Elia’s name, your heart clenched. You had always known the depth of his loss, but hearing it aloud, even in passing, reminded you of the storm that brewed constantly beneath Oberyn’s surface.

"Beautiful name," Cersei mused.

"Yes," Oberyn agreed, though his tone darkened. "But I can’t say it without turning sad. And after I turn sad, I grow angry."

"Perhaps that’s why she’s difficult," Cersei remarked, her tone dripping with cynical wisdom. "The gods love their stupid jokes, don’t they?"

Oberyn's gaze narrowed slightly, intrigued. "Which joke is that?"

Cersei’s smile was sharp, almost mocking. "You’re a prince of Dorne. A legendary fighter. A brilliant man feared throughout Westeros. But you could not save your sister. I’m a Lannister. Queen for nineteen years. Daughter of the most powerful man alive. But I could not save my son. What good is power if you cannot protect the ones you love?"

Her words struck like venom, her bitterness palpable. You watched Oberyn’s face shift, his jaw tightening as the memories of his sister undoubtedly flashed behind his eyes.

"We can avenge them," he said after a pause, his voice resolute, cutting through the air like a blade.

Cersei met his gaze, her lips curling slightly. "Yes, we can avenge them."

Oberyn tilted his head, watching her intently. "You really believe Tyrion murdered your son?"

Without hesitation, Cersei replied, "I know he did."

Oberyn’s expression remained calm, though you could sense his skepticism. "We will have a trial, and we will learn the truth."

"We’ll have a trial, anyway," Cersei muttered, her voice tight with impatience. "I haven’t seen my daughter in over a year."

Oberyn’s face softened slightly. "The last time I saw her, she was swimming with two of my girls in the Water Gardens. Laughing in the sun."

Cersei’s eyes briefly glistened with unshed tears. "I want to believe that. I want to believe she’s happy."

Oberyn’s tone was gentle now, sincere. "You have my word. We don’t hurt little girls in Dorne."

Cersei’s voice was a mere whisper, filled with more sadness than she would ever admit aloud. "Everywhere in the world, they hurt little girls. Would you bring her a gift for me? I wasn’t there for her name day. I don’t know when I’ll see her again."

Oberyn’s gaze softened as he nodded. "Anything at all."

Cersei pointed toward the bay, her eyes lingering on a ship. "The best shipwrights in King’s Landing have been working on it for months. Myrcella loves the open water."

Oberyn’s lips curled into a small, understanding smile. "I will have it sailed down to Sunspear for her."

Cersei turned to face him fully, her expression momentarily vulnerable. "Please tell her... her mother misses her very much."

She left then, her guards following behind as her regal figure disappeared from the garden. Oberyn stood still, watching her go with an unreadable expression.

In the silence that followed, Oberyn’s voice cut through the air, calm and composed. "You can show yourself now."

Your breath hitched, but you stepped out from behind the pillar, clutching the supplies you had been carrying, your heartbeat still racing from all you had overheard.

Oberyn's dark eyes, gleaming with that unspoken intensity, never left yours. The weight of his gaze made the space between you feel smaller, heavier, as though every unspoken word lingered in the air. He took a slow step toward you, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and curiosity.

"I still don’t know your name," he said, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips, though his tone remained casual, as if this was just another conversation, nothing more than passing the time.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you swallowed, straightening slightly. "It’s..." You hesitated for a second, then finally offered, your name.

Oberyn hummed in acknowledgment, his smirk widening just a little, as though your name now held a secret weight between the two of you. He moved closer, studying your face carefully. He repeated your name, tasting the name on his tongue like it was something to be savored.

A silence hung between you for a moment, but Oberyn had a way of piercing through it with his words. His eyes narrowed slightly, his head tilting just enough to catch your gaze again. "Tell me," he began, his voice soft but laced with a quiet danger, "did you poison the king?"

Your chest tightened at the question, though you knew it was coming. You didn't flinch, your heart steady despite the accusation hanging in the air. Meeting his gaze, you shook your head firmly, your voice calm but resolute. "No. I didn’t."

Oberyn’s intense gaze lingered on you, as if he was peeling away the layers of who you were, searching for the truth hidden beneath your calm exterior. His dark eyes burned with quiet judgment, tempered by curiosity. The corner of his mouth tugged upward, barely perceptible, when he let out a soft hum, the tension in his posture easing. "Good," he murmured, the single word carrying weight, as though it was meant to confirm something greater. Yet, behind his eyes, the storm never ceased, always swirling, always waiting.

You inhaled deeply, the air between you thick with unspoken things. For a long moment, you said nothing, your mind racing through the years, the faces, and the memories long buried under the weight of time and pain. The ocean waves crashed in the distance, steady and unyielding, much like the man before you. The ships bobbed on the horizon, their sails catching the wind as if they were fleeing toward freedom, away from all that was this city—this place of blood and betrayal.

You turned your gaze toward the sea, your voice low as you spoke, almost as if the memory itself had pulled the words from your lips. "You were right, your grace. I knew her… your sister, Princess Elia." 

Oberyn’s expression flickered, a subtle shift from curiosity to something more personal, more vulnerable, as he stepped closer to you. His presence was quiet but commanding, the warmth of him beside you drawing your attention. You didn’t look at him; instead, you watched the ships, the waves crashing against the cliffs in the distance. 

"It was a long time ago," you continued, your voice soft, filled with a kind of sorrow that time couldn’t quite erase. "I wasn’t a good person then… I don’t know if I am now." Your words hung in the air, fragile but true.

The wind whipped through your hair as the memory surged forth, pulling you back to that day—the day you first met her. You had been standing on the cliffs near Sunspear, staring down at the waters below. The waves had seemed so inviting, so final. You’d been ready to let go, ready to fall and end the pain that had gripped you for far too long. 

But then, you heard a cry. 

Princess Elia had been in the water, struggling against the currents, her graceful arms failing to keep her afloat. It was instinct, something primal within you that made you dive into the water, though you had been moments away from letting it take you. You swam with a strength you didn’t know you possessed, reaching her, pulling her to the shore. You’d saved her, though you had been prepared to die.

When you reached the sand, both of you gasping for breath, Elia had looked at you, her deep brown eyes searching yours, knowing, seeing far too much. "You were going to jump, weren’t you?" she had asked, her voice soft but piercing. 

You had only nodded, the pressure of your decision still clinging to you like the seaweed wrapped around your legs. 

Elia had smiled then, a gentle, sorrowful thing. "Thank you for saving me… even when you couldn’t save yourself." Her words had haunted you ever since.

The memory faded, and you were back in the present, the ocean still stretching before you, endless and indifferent. Oberyn stood beside you, silent for a long moment, absorbing your words. His expression remained unreadable, but his eyes flickered with understanding, with a shared pain.

"You were the one," he said quietly, almost as if speaking to himself. "The servant girl… the one who survived." His voice was careful, probing, seeking confirmation of a story long buried under the rubble of war and tragedy.

Your face remained void of emotion as you turned to meet his gaze, your eyes hollowed by the weight of the years and the scars you carried. "I haven't forgotten even a day," you replied, your voice eerily calm, devoid of the turmoil you felt. "Some hatred resembles longing. It's impossible to get rid of." 

Oberyn's gaze lingered on you, his expression softening, though the tempest within him still raged. His eyes, dark and intense, mirrored the turmoil that churned beneath your own surface. “I’ve also hit rock bottom before,” he said, his voice carrying a rare gentleness. “So, I understand the weight of your anger.”

His words hung in the salt-tinged air, a bridge between the two of you—both bound by memories of a woman long gone, and a shared desire for something that felt like justice but tasted more like vengeance. The sea continued its relentless assault on the cliffs, indifferent to your pain, your histories, and the scars neither of you could erase. The world moved on, as uncaring as ever, while you stood still in the face of it.

Oberyn turned slightly toward you, his expression more searching now. "Is that why you came to King's Landing?" His question was quiet, but the weight of it settled between you like a stone dropped into a deep well.

Without turning to face him, you let out a bitter laugh, the sound lost in the crash of waves. "Isn’t that why you’re here too?"

The words hit him with a force that made him pause, a flash of something unreadable passing across his face. Oberyn was silent for a moment, studying you as if trying to gauge the depth of your resolve. He shifted, his usual confidence tempered by something more cautious now. "You know what revenge does to people," he said softly, his tone laced with concern. "I’ve seen it. I’ve lived it. It devours you, bit by bit, until there’s nothing left but the anger. It’s… not something someone like you should carry."

You scoffed, the words cutting through you, sharper than any blade. "Someone like me?" you echoed, turning to face him fully for the first time since the conversation began. Your eyes locked onto his, challenging, as if daring him to explain what he meant.

Oberyn’s brow furrowed, a rare crease in the otherwise unshakeable mask he wore. "You carry enough," he said, voice low but firm. "You shouldn’t be the one to deal with this. It will change you."

His worry was unexpected, disarming even, and for a moment, you saw the weight of his own guilt reflected in his gaze—the burdens he carried, the losses he had never fully avenged. But there was also a flicker of something protective, something he wasn’t ready to admit to.

You turned back toward the sea, your heart heavy with a mix of rage and sorrow. The waves below crashed louder now, their rhythm matching the pounding in your chest. "I’ve already been changed," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the roar of the ocean. "There’s nothing left to take." 

Oberyn stepped closer, his presence warm beside you, though the space between you felt vast. “There’s always something left,” he murmured, his voice softer now, the edge of worry still lacing his words. “You just don’t see it yet.”

The silence between you stretched long, as the sea kept its pace, unbothered by the weight of two broken souls standing on the cliffs above it. Neither of you spoke again for some time, each lost in your own thoughts, but bound by an understanding neither of you had expected.

Both here for vengeance. Both already paying its price.

KING'S LANDING, RED KEEP — EVENING

The evening air clung heavily to the Red Keep, filled with the scent of the sea and the distant hum of King’s Landing. After leaving Oberyn by the cliffs, the weight of exhaustion settled into your bones, dragging you through the motions of the day. Each task completed, each conversation had, felt like a necessary distraction—an anchor to keep you from drowning in your thoughts. Yet, none of it could quiet the storm within.

Once your duties were done, you retreated to your small chambers, the flickering light of a lone candle casting shadows against the stone walls. You sat at the edge of your bed, a leather journal resting on your lap. The worn pages were a map of your thoughts, your plans, your vengeance. You traced a finger over the spine, staring down at the leather-bound book that held all the pieces of your story. It was here, in the quiet of the night, that you could feel the weight of everything you’d worked for, everything you had planned.

Your revenge.

You glanced at the drawer where your dagger rested, a constant companion in this journey, but tonight you would leave it behind. Tonight was not for the blade, but for something else entirely. Whispered words from the servants confirmed that Ellaria was out in the brothels, and that knowledge settled something within you. 

You changed swiftly into a nightgown, the soft fabric brushing against your skin, and draped a dark cloak over your shoulders. It shrouded your form as you slipped through the halls of the Red Keep, every step measured, your path taking you toward the guest quarters. Toward Oberyn.

MAIDENVAULT, GUEST CHAMBERS

KING’S LANDING, RED KEEP - EVENING

The corridors were dimly lit, and you moved like a shadow, slipping unnoticed through the Keep. The cold stone beneath your feet did little to deter you as you made your way to the door of Oberyn’s chambers. 

You hesitated for only a moment, then pushed the door open, slipping inside before the guards could take notice. The room was dim, lit only by the pale silver of the moonlight filtering in through the window. Oberyn stood near the bed, surprised by your sudden presence, his dark eyes meeting yours as you stepped into the moonlight, the cloak falling away from your shoulders. 

He closed the door behind him, his gaze flickering over you, curiosity and something else stirring in his eyes. "I didn’t expect company tonight," he said, his voice low, a touch playful as he stepped closer. "Is this what I think it is?"

You didn’t respond immediately. Instead, your fingers moved to the ties of your nightgown, pulling them loose until the fabric slipped down from your shoulders, falling in a whispering heap at your feet. Oberyn’s smirk faltered as the moonlight revealed the truth—scarred, burned, and marred flesh stretching across your body like a grotesque map of past pain.

"It felt like a white night, and sometimes it felt like a polar night, too."

His amusement vanished, replaced by horror, by understanding. "Gods…" he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper as he took in the damage that covered every inch of you.

“Ugly, right?” Your voice was toneless, cold. “My scars.”

Oberyn’s eyes darkened, but not with revulsion—only fury, a quiet, simmering rage that burned behind his otherwise calm exterior. He didn’t need to ask who had done this to you. The answer was written in the jagged lines that crisscrossed your skin. He knew. He had always known the darkness that resided in this city, but seeing it on you, it seemed to strike deeper.

“They’re not ugly,” he said softly, stepping closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “They’re injuries.” His voice was a mixture of defiance and sympathy, the edges rough with something dangerous.

You shook your head, meeting his gaze with a stark intensity. "I’m not looking for a prince," you said, your voice steady and without emotion. “What I need is not a prince, but a headsman who will join me in the sword dance.”

Oberyn’s jaw tightened, the weight of your words sinking into the space between you. For a moment, you could see the conflict in his eyes—the warrior who knew the toll of vengeance, and the lover who wished to shield you from it. But as he looked at the scars on your body, the decision seemed to solidify within him.

"Once your revenge is over, your world will also be in ruins," he said, his voice still holding the trace of concern, but it was quickly fading.

"I’m already in complete ruins with no dignity left," you replied, your voice like iron. "So, go back. I’d like to stay faithful to my rage and vice"

Oberyn exhaled slowly, the storm within him finally breaking. His fingers flexed at his side, as if already reaching for the hilt of his sword. “I’ll do it,” he said, stepping even closer until his presence was all-encompassing. “I’ll be your headsman. I’ll join the sword dance.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as his words sunk in, the finality of them sending a thrill through you. “I’ll do whatever you say,” he continued, his voice like a vow. “As if it’s a royal command. Anything at all.”

He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the violence in his words. “I’ll show you a wild sword dance,” he promised, his eyes locked on yours, filled with a deadly sort of resolve. 

In that moment, you both knew there was no turning back. The sword dance would begin, and neither of you would emerge the same.

TAGLIST:

@christinamadsen @greenwitchfromthewoods

[yeollie-plz]

Lords A Leaping

Day 10 of Pedromas! | Masterlist

Oberyn Martell x F! Reader x Ellaria Sand

Synopsis: Oberyn lets you and Ellaria take control.

Genre: smut

Warnings: sub! Oberyn, power bottom! reader, dom! Ellaria, pegging, oral m! receiving, anal sex, blindfolds, bondage, kissing, fingering, hickeys, f! masturbation

Gif credits to owners!

When Ellaria first suggested you to take more control in the bedroom, you were a bit taken aback. Oberyn was usually the one in the dominant position. Ellaria sometimes would take it as well. But you? Never.

After a bit of convincing, though, you agreed. Especially when she came to show you what she had made for you.

You weren't sure how she got it but as she removed the silken covering, you locked eyes with a replica penis. It was attached to a sort of leather buckle system as to attach it to you.

Your jaw dropped at the sight, it was very similar to Oberyn's own member. Almost down to the vein. It was gorgeous.

Ellaria showed you how it worked that night. Attaching it to herself and letting you feel it, fucking you with the crafted dick. You had to admit it was was very nice, not as warm as a real penis but it sure did the job. Oberyn might just like this.

That night as you made your way to his chambers, you had the fake cock tucked away in your bag, along with a few other special items. Opening the door you saw Oberyn laying sideways on the bed. He was perched on one elbow, stark naked, already ready for you to join him.

You smiled to yourself, loving the fact that he was already so pliant for you. As you glanced to the corner of the room, Ellaria sat there watching you carefully. She nodded to you to continue.

You set the bag down on the floor at your feet. Stripping yourself down as well, swaying your hips a bit as you did. He looked at you like he wanted to devour you.

You leaned down, letting your breasts push out to tease him a bit as you did. Grabbing the blindfold and the rope from your bag, holding it out to him so he could see what it is.

His eyebrows furrowed as his eyes squinted, trying to see what you had. He reached out to touch the soft fabric finally realizing what it was. Smirking, knowing what you were about to do, he leaned forward just a bit to allow you to fasten the blindfold around his eyes.

"Tie his hands too, love." Ellaria says from where she's sitting. You follow the orders without question.

Now that Oberyn is fully constricted, you can begin the main event. Well the lead up to the main event. Starting at his thighs, your fingers ghost across his skin. His body bucks up at the ticklish feeling. Upwards you go, gaining more and more reactions, he's already so sensitive. Must have been waiting for this, for you.

You swallow, almost nervous. When your hand finally makes it high enough to the soft skin of his neck, you put a bit more pressure there. Gaining a gasp of shock from him, you know he's sensitive there. Smirking to yourself, you bring your lips down on his neck. You lick stripes over his Adam's apple and towards the shell of his ear. Now his hips are bucking up, the feeling going straight to his dick.

Loving what you are doing to him, you continue to suck at his neck, leaving small bruises behind. You lick up his chin and across his bottom lip, his mouth opens in anticipation. Kissing him, you push your tongue into his mouth, fighting with his.

He's all but begging at this point with how easy his body is reacting to yours. Then there's the annoyance of not being able to use his limbs and touch you. Oh, to feel your warm skin under his fingertips.

As you pull your mouth away from his, a string of saliva still connects you two. It gives you an idea. You lick down his chest, across his stomach, and down his happy trail. Oberyn's hands pull at his restraints. He needs to feel you.

It's almost as if you can hear his thoughts because right after he is thinking that, you sinking your mouth down onto his cock. Taking almost all of his throbbing member into your mouth. You gag just a bit as his dick hits the back of your throat. But of course, Oberyn loves the feeling of you choking on him and moans.

You don't suck him fast, you take your time. Pulling off his dick slowly, making sure to run your tongue along the underside of it, as you make your way to the tip. You kitten lick his sensitive tip, his body tenses. Smirking again, you sink down onto his dick again, moaning at how much control you have over him. You continue this for a while, keeping it slow and steady. You don't want him to cum yet, but you also want him to be pleasured.

"Why don't we have some real fun with him?" Ellaria questions you. You had almost forgotten she was there and when you glance over at her through your lashes you are drooling at the sight. Her hand is playing with her soaked folds as the other is massaging her breast.

With one last deep swallow of his dick, you are pulling off of him. The cold air mixed with your leftover saliva, causes him to shiver. You left your hands tease up his body again, but this time a bit faster.

"Bend over for me." You whisper in his ear before licking the shell of it again. He gulps in anticipation, he really has no clue what you are about to do with him. And since he has a blindfold on he doesn't physically see you get up off the bed and retrieve the replica penis.

With a bit of resistance from his tied hands, he figures out how to flip himself over for you. Ass now in the air, hands gripping the woven material of the headboard to keep his body up for you. You encapsulate his body with yours, despite yours being smaller, and grip his dick from behind him. You stroke it twice before trailing your hand up his chest and pushing two fingers into his mouth. He licks them greedily.

Now that they are properly coated, you bring them back to his ass. Pushing them past the ring of his asshole, slowly, knowing it probably hurts. But he welcomes the stretch and moans at the feeling.

"Please." Now, he is begging.

But you give him what he wants, pulling your fingers out of his ass and pushing them again, matching the pace you once were using on his dick. You curl your fingers inside of his cavity, hoping to stroke his prostate. Although it obviously feel good, you don't think your fingers are quite long enough to reach it, but soon you will be able to.

His hips are bucking into the sheets, you know he is loving the feeling of his dick stroking against them. Usually, Ellaria would stop this sort of disobedience from someone, but she isn't so you don't either. He should get a bit more pleasure if he wants, anyways.

You push a third finger into him, it slides in easily with the other two and you know he is ready. Pulling your fingers out you move to grab the device. He lets out a sound of confusion at the loss of your touch.

You stroke his ass in reassurance, "Patience, you'll love this."

A sound of tentative agreeance. You buckle the device to your hips, it surprises you when it presses lightly onto your clit. You weren't expecting that. You were getting off enough by pleasuring Oberyn, but this was an excellent bonus.

You spit into your hand and stroke the phallice, coating it. As you press the tip to his prepared asshole, it slides in easier than you expected it. And Oberyn sure isn't expected that stretch because he lets of a surprised noise. Sure, he's been fucked in the ass before, but not with a device like this.

It's a new sort of feeling for the prince, it isn't as warm as a real penis and a lot stiffer, but not unpleasant. With a bit of a learning curve, you push the entire fake cock into him, now hitting his prostate. The instant pleasure of this action causes him to lose his balance a bit.

You start the thrust in and out of him, hitting his prostate each time you do. Oberyn never lasts long like this, and you are kind of grateful because your hips already burn. Knees scrape the soft sheets, as you aren't used to being the one fucking someone.

Oberyn has now let go of the headboard and is using his elbows to prop himself up. This helps you hit even deeper into him, the sheets around his dick are now fully helping to bring him closer to his peak. You are fucking him and he is basically fucking the bed.

Hips meet yours as he fucks his ass back onto the replica dick, needing to get off. You let him, hands grabbing him to pull him back even harder onto it. Pace now faster than you have been going all night as the fake cock is also hitting your clit. You now need the pleasure as much as he does.

One last snap of your hips and he is shooting ropes of white cum into the sheets, staining them with his spend. Moaning out your name like it is a prayer.

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@britlord @kittenlittle24 @godlypresley @amyispxnk

[lowlights]

Oberyn Martell

Sweet Reds and Starlight Mornings | Your birthday present is a night alone with Oberyn

[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.

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Move, baby

Gif credits

Pairing/Au: Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand x f!reader

Words count: 5768

Rating: +18, MINORS PLEASE DON’T INTERACT.

Warnings: threesome, reader is a sex worker, she is female and has hair and breasts and vagina but apart from that no other description is given, fingering, nipples play, oral sex (m and f receiving), face sitting, unprotected p in v (WRAP IT UP IRL, FOLKS), pet names (mostly honey), basically p*rn with very little plot lol

Notes: No beta reader, mostly written at night on my phone (I really need to stop doing this, GOD) and English is not my first language so excuse me for any mistake, Oberyn and Ellaria have always been one of my biggest fantasies, so I decided to write something about them. I'm a bi person, I want both, this is very personal to me and it's my first attempt at writing a threesome so please be kind. Title inspired by “Movement” by Hozier.

I really hope you’ll like it ❤️

I also just want to say thank you all for giving so much love to my last story, I’m so grateful and my heart is full of love for each one of you!

When you move

I can recall somethin' that's gone from me

When you move

Honey, I'm put in awe of somethin' so flawed and free

So move me, baby

Shake like the bough of a willow tree

You do it naturally

Move me, baby

So move me, baby

Like you've nothin' left to prove

And nothin' to lose

Move me, baby

Oberyn and Ellaria are lying on the bed when you enter the room. You are intimidated, even though you have been doing this for years and have met many powerful people before. They have been here for a few days now and seeing them through the corridors of the brothel you couldn’t help but notice how majestic and beautiful they were. Oberyn is pervaded by a regal aura, he is like a feline who walks with a soft, elegant step and you immediately found him incredibly sensual.

His golden robe adorned with suns studding, the symbol of Dorne, almost entirely hides the splendor of his tanned skin, but leave his chest partially exposed and a large medallion accentuate the harmonious shape of his thick and incredibly attractive neck.

The fabric hug his torso and fall wider over his legs, framing his perfect figure. A large brown leather belt emphasize his narrow waist.

Rumors say that he is a formidable warrior with a spear and you can actually sense his physical prowess even under his clothes.

His face makes him look like a God, short black hair, high forehead and thick eyebrows, dark and piercing eyes, strong aquiline nose, voluptuous lips and sculpted jaw, covered by a strip of beard.

The signs that line his face give him authority and the appearance of a man who lives life to the full.

Ellaria is equally magnetic, some other brothel girl said to you that she comes from humble beginnings but she looks every bit like a queen who could have anyone under her feet.

A cascade of gorgeous black curls frame her face and falls over her bare shoulders, she has high, sculpted cheekbones and sensual lips, eyes like a dark night, deep and mysterious but shining like stars.

She wears a beautiful orange tunic that slides over her hips leaving little to the imagination, a wide neckline barely cover her décolleté and her tits are embraced by a gold bra.

She looked at you as you passed by her, and her inquisitive and teased gaze didn't escape you. You felt flattered, you never thought that a person like her could look at someone like you.

You saw her whisper something in Oberyn's ear and saw him nod with conviction, before putting his arm around her waist with a mischievous smile.

They walked away without speaking to you while you remained breathless for a few seconds as you watched them disappear together into one of the rooms.

You have experience, you never have this kind of reaction, even in the presence of the king who also frequents this brothel very often.

Most of the time you absolutely don't care about anything other than money you get at the end of the day but that feeling of being noticed by someone you actually like stayed with you and you spent the night torturing your clit because of them.

Today the brothel owner told you that Ellaria and Oberyn specifically asked for you. They previously require at least one man and a couple of women or more which perhaps would have helped you handle the situation better and be calmer. It wouldn't have all depended on you, you could have blended in with others, made yourself less noticed. Although when it comes to sex, it's impossible not to notice you.

You don't think so arrogantly, it's just that you do it every day, several times a day and you're good at it.

So damn good that some customers have fallen in love with you and became obsessed, forcing the brothel owner to kick them out and tell them not to show up again, so good that they often leave you extra gold coins before leaving the room.

You're an expert, but today you feel like it's the first time you've done it.

Your hand shake as you open the door, maybe they could have been wrong, it wasn't you they wanted.

You need to be detached in this job. You can't let your feelings influence you, at the beginning it often happened to you to be overwhelmed but now you've learned to leave the most vulnerable part of yourself outside the door.

There is no future for people like you in King's Landing other than doing menial work, this is the best paying job there is. It's certainly risky because you never know what can happen to you and often powerful men are also cruelly sadistic, you've found yourself in very scary situations at least a couple of times, fortunately much less than other girls who work here.

You saw with your own eyes the swollen faces, you heard the screams, you heard the cries. You've experienced bruises on your skin and not the kind you’ve been turned on by.

Your luck has been that the owner of this brothel cares about keeping you all safe, he is humane enough not to treat you like cannon fodder and let them do whatever they want with you.

He always says that it’s because he need to maintain his brothel the best one in King’s Landing but you know that there is a fund of goodness in him, after all you are pretty sure that he cares at least a little about all of you. You can see it from how he treats you, he never lacks clean clothes, decent meals, cleanliness and decorum of rooms and a maester to cure any ailment that may occur with this way of life. And he pays well, better than in any other brothel in the city, so you've always made sure to hold on to this job.

“We were waiting for you,” Oberyn says, sitting up in bed, his back leaning against the large red velvet cushions resting on the inlaid wooden headboard.

You hold your breath as you shyly step forward.

Ellaria is lying on her side next to her lover, her head resting on her right hand, while her other hand lies limply on her exposed side.

“Come closer, baby” she says “we want to look at you”

You take another step, exposing yourself to the dim light of the candles scattered around the room.

Ellaria's eyes sparkle, she glances knowingly at Oberyn and then back at you "It's really you, the one who looked at me in the hallway"

You feel her gaze wander over your body, you keep your eyes lowered to look at your bare feet on the wooden floor.

It feels like you're being seen for the first time in a long time, and you tremble slightly.

You are not afraid but you are in awe, fully aware of your exposed skin covered only by a light fabric draped over your hips and your torso, covering your breasts and pussy, leaving your shoulders and arms, your cleavage, your legs exposed.

“Are you ashamed?” Oberyn says “You don't need to”

Ellaria elegantly gets up from the bed and approaches you. She stops in front of you and places a finger under your chin “Look at me” she whispers “look into my eyes”

You do as you're told, her hand encircle your jaw, sweet and delicate like a caress.

She’s smiling at you “we've been thinking about you for days, you know? Since we've been in this crap city we haven't had many opportunities to relax, not as much as we'd like anyway. But today, we intend to do nothing else. And we hope you'll join us” It sounds like an invitation, one of the most tempting you've received in years. There is no obligation in her voice, there is kindness. And desire. The realization hits you in that moment, they weren't wrong at all, they want you at least as much as you want them.

Your gaze is fixed in Ellaria's reassuring eyes and you feel hypnotized by her.

“Do you want to stay with us?” she asks you.

You nod.

"Say it. Tell me you want us"

“Yes” you whisper

“Louder, babe, Prince Oberyn can’t hear you”

“Yes” you say, more convinced “I want to be here”

Ellaria's smile spreads softly across her face “Good. We’re glad to hear that, honey”

She moves her hand to your neck, stroking it, her fingertips like a breath on your skin, stopping at the edge of the fabric resting on your collarbone.

Oberyn is still sitting on the bed, Ellaria moves to your side, without taking her hand off your shoulder “what do you say, my love, is it time we got rid of this peplum?”

“Whatever my sweet paramore desires must be done”

She looks at him with so much love that for a moment you almost feel like you're not worthy of observing such an intimate moment between two people.

Then Ellaria returns to focusing on you, as if you were a gift that was delivered especially for her, making you feel part of the scene again.

She lowers the hem of your dress, letting it slide across your skin, revealing your breasts and then your tummy and letting it fall from your hips. It collapses at your feet like a white cloud.

She takes your hand and makes you take a step forward, letting you out of your dress.

You're naked.

And two of the most fascinating people you've ever seen are looking at you. They're looking at you.

A large number of your clients are impatient, rushed, they just want to satisfy themselves and leave.

Ellaria and Oberyn are calm and relaxed, and they seem in no hurry to send you away.

She admires you, you feel her gaze contemplating you and you fervently hope that she likes what she sees.

You truly want this woman to like you.

“She is beautiful” Oberyn says “my love, you really have impeccable taste”

Ellaria lets out a little laugh "it's no coincidence that you are my other half”

her eyes are languidly on him and then back at you.

She reaches down to caress your arm, your side, her fingers tracing the contours of your body so carefully.

You can literally feel the tension building in the room, pervading it entirely.

“She really is gorgeous”

Her hand travels up your stomach, barely touching you, while she continues to look straight into your eyes and reaches one of your breasts.

She cups it and weighs it for a moment "you have beautiful breasts" she whispers and then takes your nipple between her thumb and forefinger and pinches it, pulling it slightly.

A low moan escapes your lips.

You remain still, many have done it before but her touch is different, more attentive and graceful, it send you shivers down your spine.

She’s treating you like something precious, taking the time to tickle your body, looking at you like you're the only person in the room, the anticipation makes it all more exciting.

She does the same to the other nipple and then gets closer, she's so close that you can feel her scent of honey and flowers filling your nostrils.

She kisses you, her lips are luscious and velvety, she tastes like sweet grape, ambrosial and intoxicating.

She pulls away from you and runs a finger over your bottom lip and gently forces your mouth open, then kisses you again. You feel her tongue make its way, meet yours and caress your palate. She licks greedily inside your mouth, her hands squeeze your hips and caress them, her body adheres perfectly to yours, making you whimper and rock your hips to try to get more friction burying one of your hand in her hair, your fingers intertwined with her raven curls.

“Don’t be impatient, baby”

You try to calm down but when you look away from her you see Oberyn on the bed, in his golden robe, staring at you.

His eyes got even darker and are fixed on you, he is clearly turned on by what Ellaria is doing and that makes you even more needy.

“Eyes on me, babe” Ellaria gets your attention again “sit on the bed”

She turns you around and stands in front of you, making you walk backwards as she pushes you gently holding your hips.

The backs of your knees touch the bed and you sit obediently.

Ellaria caresses your cheek “spread your legs” she orders and you do.

She kneels in front of you, you already feel your skin getting hot.

Her hand runs along your inner thigh, her fingertips like feathers on your skin.

“You’re so good. Already glistening for us” she says quietly, eyes fixed on your wetness and you expect for her fingers to rise for reaching your folds but she doesn’t. She gets up instead and take your face in her hands again and gives you another kiss that leaves you breathless. It’s more urgent and sloppy than before and your mind goes blind.

You desperately want this woman to make you cry and beg for more.

Oberyn approaches you from behind while his lover deepens the kiss and put his hands on your shoulders, stroking, you whimper at his touch, his big strong hands expertly roaming on your skin. He lowers them to touch your tits, squeezing and caressing and then his lips are on your neck sucking, biting, licking your soft skin under your ear.

Ellaria has stopped kissing you and contemplates you melting under her man's touch, she has a pleased smile.

She then makes you lying on the bed and undress.

Her dress falls to the ground leaving her naked.

She looks like a work of art.

Her skin is smooth like silk and shines in the candlelight, her tits are perfectly round shaped, high and firm, her turgid nipples stand in the center of a dark rose areola, your eyes wander on her flat tummy and her flourishing hips and thighs, she has beautifully shaped legs, your mouth is watering at the vision.

She climbs up over your body while Oberyn is now on your side sitting on his heels, watching the two of you kissing again.

You whine in her mouth feeling her warm tongue dancing with yours.

Ellaria then whispers in your ear “Raise your arms for me, baby and stand still. Let me take care of you”

You do immediately, so eager to be pleasured by this stunning creature that now lay on top of you.

Her weight is deliciously crushing you.

She kisses your neck and cleavage and lowers herself on you leaving a trail of wet kisses on your skin.

She takes one of your nipples in her mouth sucking on it, making your entire body vibrate. Her tongue is swirling on it, licking all over your areola and then on your bud sucking again avidly.

You cry when she lowers one of her hand between your thighs, teasing your folds with just her fingertips.

She watches you with a languid smile “yeah, you like that, don’t you? Me sucking on your beautiful tits?”

And you nod, head empty, totally intoxicated by her.

You want more, more, more.

She’s on your tits again, mercilessly sucking, using her teeth to gently stiffen your nipples, humming low to your skin.

She dips her fingers into your glistening pussy, running them up and down, completely wetting them.

She put her index finger into her mouth licking it clean.

“Mmm you taste so good” and this vision only would be enough to send you over the edge, she is incredibly elegant even now, in a way that exudes pure sensuality.

She keeps sucking on your tits while teasing your pussy, until you find yourself begging “please, please fuck me”

She stop and look at you with a malicious smile “you want to be fucked by my fingers? You want that, honey?”

“Please, do. Please.”

“You’re so good for us. You should do me a favor, look at my handsome lover while I work my fingers into you, would you do that for me?”

“Yes. Yes, whatever you -“ your voice cracks in the attempt ‘cause she force your entrance with two of her fingers without waiting for you to reply “AH. whatever you want… my queen” you say breathily.

She’s deep into you.

“Well, technically I’m no queen but you can call me one if you want” she laugh heartily. “Look at my love, now”

You turn your face and next to you is a naked Oberyn. You don't know when he took off his robe, you heard movements around you but you were totally absorbed in Ellaria at that moment.

It never happens that you are not aware of what is happening in a room, you must always be vigilant to avoid dangerous situations when there is more than one person with you, you never let yourself be caught off guard.

He waited silently, he certainly enjoyed the sight of you two.

You can clearly see it in his hard, swollen cock in front of you.

He's jerking off slowly, a couple more strokes and then he finally speaks "Do you want to take it in your mouth, sweetie?"

You look at him for a second, filling your eyes with his beauty, while Ellaria continues to move in and out of you with her fingers and working on your nipples with her tongue.

You smile, pleased by his hungry eyes.

“Yes” you murmur “Yes, please”

He brings the tip close to your mouth and you instinctively stick out your tongue to lick it. It's already wet with precome, it's salty and musky and you wail at this, so eager to have it all into your mouth.

He enter your lips slowly, he’s bigger than most men you’ve met and you’ve met a lot of men.

“Yes, just like that, honey”

You take as much as you can of him through your lips, down your throat, filling your mouth with his hardened cock and mewl at his thick veins tickling your tongue.

You cup his balls with your hand, massaging them.

“Oh. You seemed shy before but you’re a little mischief, aren’t you?”

You pull out and a little laugh escape your lips “that’s exactly what I am” and you look at him “never underestimate a quite girl”

You’re challenging him, he knows you do things like that for a living so he shouldn’t expect you to be so innocent and naive.

You’re not.

“I knew it, honey, that’s why we wanted you. I know a little mischievous girl when I see her”

You stifle one more laugh and take his cock in your hand, licking his already sticky tip, swirling your tongue on his frenulum, then moving your tongue flat along his length, down to the base and back up again.

You fill your mouth again, taking him so deep that the head of his cock is now scraping at your throat.

You hold it still for a moment to get used to its size and the you begin to suck.

Ellaria is still circling your clit with her thumb while her index and middle fingers slowly pumps in and out of you.

You suck greedily on Oberyn cock and pride raise in your chest at his praises “you’re doing so good, babe, so good for me, keep going”

For the first time in years, you are a third person enjoying sex with others and not only a whore at their commands.

You're almost at your peak and rock your hips into Ellaria's hand, seeking more and more friction.

“Come on baby, flood my hand with your cum”

Your body shakes and you feel a heat rise from your core and invade you as you release your orgasm on Ellaria's hand.

She’s looking at you eagerly, you still have Oberyn cock in your mouth, you hold onto the sheets with your hand to maintain the position while you don't stop taking his cock.

“You have the most exquisite nipples I’ve ever seen, and they taste so sweet, god, I’m obsessed” she says, stroking your hair, making you feel tenderly spoiled.

Oberyn explode in your mouth a few moments later groaning loudly, you swallow everything you can and smile at him while a little ripple of cum runs down your chin.

“Such a good babe” Ellaria strokes your cheek and lick the cum that is making its way onto your neck.

The room is quiet for a while filled only with your sighs.

“What do you want now, love?”

She says to Oberyn that is now lying on the bed right next to you with a hand splayed over your tummy.

“I was thinking…what if you sit on her face while I eat her pussy?”

“Mmmm you always have the best ideas, my prince”

You're lying between them, they sit up for a kiss and you see their mouths come together and their tongues meet passionately right above you, you quietly enjoy the show.

Oberyn climbs on top of you, starting to kiss you and you immediately realize how different his touch and kisses are from Ellaria's, he is more urgent, less delicate than her, but no less exciting. His hands are bigger, his fingers longer and as he caresses and teases your nipples and kisses you you wonder what it would be like to have them inside you.

His tongue is voracious inside your mouth, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip, his kissing overall more demanding and authoritative but still kind.

Oberyn certainly knows how to let the love of his life take center stage but he also knows exactly how to take it back.

He wastes no time tasting your nipples after all of Ellaria's glorification, running his tongue flat over one of them and grunting in approval and then sucking like he’s starving.

“Fuck, they really are delicious, you’re so right, my love”

Ellaria smiles as she settles in to straddle you, her pussy is an inch from your mouth, you can smell it and you pant in anticipation.

“Lick me, dear, lick me deeply and fuck me with your tongue”

and she lowers herself into your face, your nose colliding with her clit making her gasp, your tongue is flat on her folds tracing them thoroughly, you taste her spicy savory flavor that instantly drives you wild.

You lick right in the middle, her folds caressing your tongue at the sides while you caress her center, alternating longer laps with small ones like a kitten, just the tip of your tongue on her clit.

And then you take it into your mouth, wrapping it with your tongue and then sucking it.

Her pussy clench and she grinds into your face “Yes, oh my gods, you’re fucking great” she mutters, hitting your nose again and again “keep doing that”

You try to focus on her even if you feel Oberyn moving on your body, licking and sucking your skin, probably leaving some light bruises that don't intimidate you anyway, he reaches your mound and continues kissing, attentive and caring. He is rough but also sweet, you can feel his beard scratching you delightfully, he makes space between your legs to settle on his stomach on the bed.

You continue lapping on her clit burying your face in her pussy when you feel Oberyn spread your lips with two fingers and give a long lick to your center and then sink his fingers between your lips, covering them completely in your juices, teasing your entrance while he swirling on your clit.

His fingers are thick, much thicker than Ellaria's, and even just a little force at your opening makes you feel full.

Ellaria is still rocking her hips into your face, squeezing it between her thighs. You stick your tongue right at her entrance, making her moan your name “yeah, baby, just like that, keep pushing your tongue inside me”

You do as she wish, darting your tongue in her hole.

She cries out loud, quivering, calling your name again, pushing her cunt into your face.

You’re almost breathless but you don’t stop, you want her to come all over your mouth and chin and you want to savor every drop of her pleasure.

You feel Oberyn’s fingers deep down into your pussy, curling up and reaching that pretty spot inside of you that always gives you fireworks, while he devours your clit. You can feel his nose deepening through your folds and it feels heavenly.

He’s great.

Really amazingly great.

You push into Ellaria’s trying to keep the same pace with he’s pushing into you and you’re pretty sure you’ve never had anything like that, even if you’re a prostitute and you do it all the time.

Ellaria is riding your face like there’s no tomorrow and Oberyn is eating you out so frantically that you feel a little bit overstimulated but you wouldn’t want to stop for any reason.

“You’re really making my sweetheart a big mess, don’t you?” He looks up at you, grinning as he watches his lover taking every bit of your tongue into her.

There's not even a hint of jealousy in his voice, he seems impressed by you, pleased by the fact that you're making the love of his life enjoy every moment.

“I understand that you are so eager to give her what she wants, it's the same for me. My woman is too precious to leave her unsatisfied, she needs to be worshipped” he says it slowly, sweetly, it reaches your ears muffled but still effective and unmistakable.

His fingers still move inside your cunt, and his tongue is on you again licking your clit rapidly, almost jerking it.

You see stars again, while you keep moving on Ellaria’s folds.

Your entire body is on fire, your legs shaking and your heart pounding in your chest so fast you feel like you’re on the verge of no return.

Ellaria comes a few moments after, whining and holding on to the sheets to maintain balance, releasing her cum all over your lips, on your tongue, in your mouth and you drink on her, all you can, continuing lapping her.

Oberyn is caressing your folds with two fingers, gently, letting you cool down.

When Ellaria moves from your face you try to suffocate a disappointed moan which does not escape Oberyn's ears ��Oh, you still want more, honey? Yeah, my woman is addictive, I know” his mouth curve into a smile.

“So are you” you say, pulling you up to sit up in bed to give him a kiss.

His lips taste like you, you linger on his bottom lip sucking it gently to get the more of it.

“You’re such a horny little thing”

“Yes, I am” you whisper on his lips

“Good. We like that”

Ellaria is right next to you, palming the back of your head with her hand, stroking your hair.

“Naughty girl” she winks at you “you’re giving us great pleasure so we allow you to choose what to do now. What would you like, sweetie?”

“I would like..." you stop because you don't want to offend the splendid woman next to you.

“What? Speak, babe, whatever it is it’s fine with us” she smiles at you and Oberyn nods.

“I really want to be fucked…by Oberyn”

Ellaria laughs, a joyful laugh that makes your pussy throb

“Why were you afraid to say it?” she gently pinches one of your lobes, then tracing the outline of your ear with the tip of her finger.

“I didn't want you to feel left out”

“I don’t feel like that at all, honey. I know that you want to be fucked by this handsome prince, no one understands you better than me” her voice is low, tender, like a caress.

“It gives me great pleasure to see him enjoy it, you know? And who tells you I won't participate?”

“Oh. Okay” you feel relieved

“Don’t worry, hun, just take what you need. Haven't done this in a long time, right?”

It's true, you haven't been doing this for long, your job doesn't require you to think about your own needs, you have to dedicate yourself entirely to satisfying others.

Oberyn is between your legs again as Ellaria rests your head on her thighs.

“Spread your legs wider for me, babe”

He comes closer to you and slides his cock over your clit, up and down your folds, you get wet immediately, it slides so smoothly it feels like silk on you.

Ellaria is looking at you sweetly, she’s stroking your hair while your head is perfectly nested on her legs.

“You’re going to feel so good, honey, there’s no better cock than his”

And you actually think she’s right, despite all the other ones you’ve seen since you’re doing this.

He aligns himself with your entrance and you can feel the tip entering you, already stretching your crevice.

He’s careful and goes inch by inch with an incredible calm.

He stops when he’s entirely inside you, it fills you all up and you squirm at the sensation, arching your back to feel it even more.

“God it feels amazing” you moan “move, please”

“You ready, sweetheart?”

“Yes. Yes. Never been so ready in my life. Give it all to me, please”

Your pussy is dripping all over his cock and he starts thrusting, a grunt escapes his throat as he slides so easily into the deepest point of you.

He’s slow, really agonizingly slow and this makes you feel every single movement, every rolling of his hips, every rhythmic thrust so amplified that your mind starts going numb, completely drunk on him.

His hands hold your hips tightly, his fingers dig into your flesh and will probably leave marks but you don't care a bit.

It's like a dance, he’s dancing with your body, setting a leisurely pace that is giving you the freedom to simply feel center stage for once, like you didn’t even know it was possible anymore for you.

They say that's what he does even while fighting, dancing. It's light, nimble and agile like a panther, so they tell you.

Now he's not fighting, he's following your body and you do the same by moving your hips in turn at the same rhythm.

Ellaria was right, there's no cock like his, because what's going on now is him thinking of you first unlike the majority of men you’ve met.

He’s hitting that right spot inside of you again and again, so naturally that you could say that your cunt is meant to be his.

All is silent except for his grunts and the squelching sound of your fuck, every lewd noise from your pussy as he sink into you makes your head spin.

The candles light up the room enough for you to see his face and you fixate on his every little expression, on the vein on his neck swelling, on his clenched teeth, on his eyes squeezed shut with effort.

Ellaria holds you by the shoulders, you bounce on her legs deliciously.

You look up at her for a moment and she has the most delighted smile you’ve ever seen.

“Keep going, hun, you’re doing so well”

she whisper and you’re unsure if she’s speaking to you or his lover but she sounds so sweet and nicely aroused that you get even more turned on by the situation and you didn’t even thought it was possible.

You entwine your legs behind his back, pushing him further against you, he gasps as he tries to push your orgasm just right.

“Fuck, baby, you’re drenched”

“I know I know ..I’m so close Oberyn, please , don’t stop”

He places his thumb over your clit circling it frantically and doesn’t stop pushing into you until your orgasm washes over you leaving you breathless and worn out.

He pulls out of you coming on your tummy, thick streaks of his cum painting your skin as he moan loudly.

You look at him in ecstasy, every expression on his face captivates you as he fists his cock releasing his pleasure on you.

He falls onto the bed panting hard while you also try to catch your breath.

Ellaria moves from underneath you and puts a pillow under your head, goes back between your thighs and reaches down to lick your pussy clean.

Her tongue laps at you gently, caressing your lips until you calm down.

When she's satisfied, she lies down on the bed next to you, wrapping her arms around you, cradling you.

Oberyn kisses your neck, then stands up and grabs a bowl from the table at the side of the room.

You turn to see what he has and he takes a blueberry, runs it across your bottom lip before feeding you.

And then another one.

And one for Ellaria too.

A prince is feeding you blueberries.

You’ve never felt so spoiled in your entire life.

This has to be one of the best days you will ever have, something you thought you could only fantasize about just happened. There isn't much joy in your life anymore, not since you realized that every day would be the same. Not today.

“We leave tomorrow” Ellaria whispers

“Oh fuck, no” you find yourself saying, hiding your head on her chest, lost in the softness of her tits.

“Don't you want us to leave?” Oberyn tenderly rubs your back.

“No” you whine shyly on Ellaria’s skin.

“You’re so cute, honey” she says, hugging you even tightly.

“We’ll be back, don’t be sad” Oberyn says and he pauses for a moment “Actually, wait, have you ever been to Dorne?”

“I never left King's Landing”

"Come with us. What do you think my love, can she come?”

“Of course, she can, why not. When it comes to pleasure you know I have no sides and she’s the perfect addition to our bond”

“It’s a deal then. You want to come, baby?”

You can believe what’s happening, they are really offering you a different life, far from this cesspool of a city.

“Are you sure? I mean, it’s gonna cost you a lot, the owner won’t free me for a little price”

“Babe… I’m a prince. Money is not a problem for me.”

You can feel tears poking through your eyes, you look at him and it seems to you that it is a dream from which you will wake up soon.

“Thank you” he approaches you and you give him a grateful kiss.

“Your new life begins tomorrow”

For the first time in a long time you can't wait for the next day.

[wardenparker]

Mysterious Masquerade, part 2

Oberyn Martell x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 7.4k Warnings: Food/alcohol, cursing, flirting and sexy themes. Sugar daddy/baby perceived power imbalances. But honestly this whole extended polycule is pretty emotionally healthy. Spoiler warning in the tags! Summary: Your relationship with Oberyn will change your life forever, and in the very best ways. Notes: Just a cutie little ending for a cutie little story. Next week we step up the spice level with Pero! (As always, sorry for any errors I missed in proofreading. I'm under the weather today so it might be more than average. Enjoy!)

There are almost more bags than you and Ellaria can carry together when you arrive back to the mansion several hours later. Between things for the house and things for the two of you, you stopped into nearly every store and usually made at least one small purchase if not something more.

Ellaria hands her bags over to a young man in a uniform at the door and without a word he is gone again— presumably to sweep her things away to wherever they belong. When a different young man in the same uniform approaches you, you have no idea what to say at all.

“Charlie, be a dear and put her belongings in the purple suite.” Ellaria decides. “We will move them if the accommodations aren’t to her liking.”

The second young man is gone in a flash, and you offer Ellaria a smile. "I don't know that I'll get the hang of how this house operates too quickly. I'm sorry in advance."

“Do not even worry about that.” She laughs. “You just ask anyone and they can tell you how Oberyn likes things.”

"He seems very flexible about some things and very set in his way about others," you observe. "I just don't want to disappoint him."

“You won’t.” She promises. “He might be a bit odd but he is rather accommodating most of the time.”

"Odd can be wonderful." That is something you have always believed, but even as you smile you look around the first floor of the mansion. "I suppose...I suppose he's probably busy? I thought he would have come to see you when you came home."

She looks around for a moment, as if she is surprised now that you mention it. “He is probably in his office.” She hums. “Or in the training room. Probably the training room.”

"Training room?" Your raised eyebrow is surprise not only that such a room exists but that a seemingly consummate man of luxury would be using it.

Her smirk is nothing short of wicked and she takes your hand. “You have not begun to drool until you see him training.” She cackles.

"I'm intrigued and excited." With a shared grin, you take Ellaria's arm and let her lead the way.

Off the west wing of the house is a gym. One that Oberyn had outfitted for any and all of the training that he desires. The man has extreme discipline and besides being wealthy, he also loves to fight.

The air in the gym is warm and damp when you step inside with Ellaria, as if someone was doing hot yoga inside, but the sounds coming from the ring in the center of the room are simply not what anyone would hear in a yoga studio.

Oberyn is moving around the space with the grace and force of a lion on the hunt. The staff in his hands is a fearsome weapon all on its own, but Ellaria brings you up to the edge of the ring to watch as he leans it against the safety buffers on the edge of the ring and begins to pummel the dummy up on the nearby platform.

He’s shirtless. The man would fight nude if he could get away with it, but many other men found that intimating unless there was a bet to have to winner fuck the loser. Which had happened a few times. “Now you know how he keeps in shape to exhaust you in bed, Dove.” She whispers, her own eyes fixed on his lean and graceful form.

"Both of us," you remind Ellaria, though your mouth is watering at the sight of him. It's primal. Primitive. And you're not embarrassed by it for one single second. "I've never considered working out to be a spectator sport before."

“The best part?” Ellaria grins as she looks over at you. “Sparring, fighting? It makes this man feral.” She snorts. “Our last child was definitely conceived after a match.”

"I have the sudden urge to be ringside very often." Primal. Primitive. And completely sexy. You could just stand here and watch for as long as he'd let you, and if what Ellaria is saying is true, he would let you stay as long as you wanted. Only to haul you off and fuck you right after.

“I thought you might.” She laughs. “It doesn’t hurt that the men he spars with are delectable in their own right.”

"Never considered myself an overly sporty but a gal can change," you laugh, grinning at her while you both watch Oberyn work.

“Now you know how I stay in shape.” She agrees and looks back over at him. “He’s still the most gorgeous man I have ever fucked. And he knows it.”

At another point in your life it might have been odd or even bothered you to be standing beside the other woman that your lover is actively sleeping with. The woman he truly loves. The woman who has been in his life for many, many years and will still be here long after the quality of shiny newness has rubbed off of you. But right now all you can do is bring your eyes back to Oberyn and breathe out a quiet, wistful sigh. "I don't think it would be possible to find a more gorgeous man in the entire world."

“And intelligent,” she shakes her head. “The man holds three master’s degrees. Got bored halfway through his doctorate.”

"Are you serious? Oh come on!" You huff, much more loudly and more exasperatedly than you mean to, and cover your mouth instantly but the damage is done as your voice echoes through the space.

Oberyn stops his work out, turning to face both you and Ellaria with a low brow and heaving chest. “Something wrong, Dove?” He asks, tossing down the staff and sauntering over to the edge of the ring to grab his towel and water bottle.

"No!" This time your voice is an embarrassed squeak, and your hand covers your face as entirely as you can manage it. "No, I—Ellaria was just telling me something and I was surprised. I'm sorry to interrupt you."

“Oh?” He glances over at his lover and guesses that it’s nothing too horrendous because of her slight smile. “Care to share with me?” He asks teasingly, wiping the dripping sweat from his face and chest. “I like surprises.”

He's so fucking sexy it's distracting is all you can think for a few seconds before you shake your head clear and then clear your throat. "She was saying that you got bored halfway through your doctorate. I had no idea you had so many degrees, that's all."

He chuckles, watching you squirm so prettily and he shrugs. “I got bored after a while.” He admits easily. “It took away from my time seducing beautiful women.” He leans on the ropes and leers at you. “Like the two in front of me now.”

"We had a very successful day, lover." Ellaria reports happily, leaning over the ropes to accept the kiss that she has unquestioningly earned.

“Have you?” He muses with a hum and reaches for her to drag her close for a very thorough kiss.

It isn't jealousy that curls in your stomach but interest, wondering if you look at effortlessly and artfully beautiful kissing Oberyn as Ellaria does. If that is how deep he kissed you that first night together or if there is some deeper level reserved only for her. If there is, it makes this a privilege to bear witness to.

When he pulls away, he pecks her lips again and winks as he pulls away. “Good girl.” He praises before he turns to you. “Now it’s your turn.”

He doesn't hesitate, reaching for you and surprising you by putting the same passion into kissing you as though you had been gone for weeks or months and seen him the day before yesterday. You lean into it happily, tilting your head to the side without hesitation to let the kiss deepen as much as he likes.

Oberyn likes that you don’t pull away. You aren’t shy about kissing him in front of his paramour. Groaning into your mouth, he lets the kiss last just as long as the one he gave Ellaria before he pulls away.

“I should get to unpacking,” Ellaria announces breezily, giving you a kiss on the cheek and Oberyn a healthy leer before she saunters back in the direction that you came. “See you at dinner, darlings!”

He chuckles as he looks towards you. “Looks like we are alone.” He murmurs, his voice dropping silkily and full of innuendo.

“Apparently so.” His voice makes you shiver when it gets husky like that and you don’t bother to disguise it. Not knowing everything that Ellaria told you today.

“Did you enjoy yourself today, Dove?” He asks, lifting a brow curiously.

“I did.” Ellaria had been a bit gentler in her nudging after your talk at lunch, but certainly had not let up at all. She had made it a game to keep you amused, and to keep you from feeling guilty. “I had a very interesting conversation with Ellaria at lunch.”

“You did?” He flings the towel over his shoulder and steps through the ropes to hop down the small step to the floor beside you. “Did you enjoy the interesting conversation?”

“Ellaria seems to think you want to keep me.” An amused smirk curls into the corner of your lips and you decide not to disguise your interest in his sweat-covered body. “Any chance you know where she might have gotten that idea?”

“Because my paramour is not stupid.” The playful coy smile is the first indication you aren’t opposed to it. “She knows what I like, what intrigues me.”

“And you are intrigued by me?” You ask, raising one eyebrow at him.

“Obsessively.” He teases, leaving in and nudging his nose against yours.

“Then I think we ought to talk about what kind of arrangement you’d like.” Nudging his nose back, you pull away after a second and look him in the eyes. “Because I want to know what you’re asking me to promise before I say yes to anything.”

“You did have a thorough conversation.” Oberyn wraps his hand around your wait. “Come shower with me and we will negotiate.”

******

There can be no negotiations in the shower. Once he has his arms around you with the hot water streaming down both of your bodies, you would promise him anything. That doesn't stop him from trying to get you to negotiate while he's fucking you so deeply that it punches the breath from your lungs, but considering you can barely moan out any words besides curses and his name? That's fighting dirty, and he eventually agrees to put off the conversation.

Once you're clean, fucked into a puddle, and then clean all over again, Oberyn wraps you up in a plush bathrobe that matches his own and sprawls out with you on the plush sofas in his room.

“So what would you demand of me?” He asks, a cup of wine in one hand while his arm that is under you has slipped beneath your robe and strokes your belly. “Anything you can think of?”

"I was more interested in hearing what you might demand of me," you admit, leaning into his side and sipping your wine along with him. "Ellaria wouldn't be specific about her arrangement with you, so I still don't really know how any of this would work except that I would live here and be your lover."

“If we have a child or children together, you would never keep them from me.” That is his number one rule. “You are honest with me, I will always be honest with you.”

"Is it expected of me to have your child?" Being prepared for the responsibility and possibility is far different than contracting out mothers, and while you don't expect that answer from Oberyn, you do have to ask the question.

“No.” He would never expect that of you, of anyone. “It would only be if you wanted it.”

"I'm glad to hear you say that." It helps you relax more into his side, and you take another sip of wine. "Go on?"

“Every year we are together, you will have one million dollars times the number of years, deposited into an account that is solely held by you.” Oberyn hums. “That is non-negotiable.”

You start so violently at the number that you barely manage to escape spilling on yourself, bolting upright to face him on the sofa. "For what?" That is the part that baffles you. He can't just be paying you for sex. There are enough brothels in the city to satisfy even him. He doesn't need to do that.

“For your own independence.” It sounds counterintuitive, but he had found that he felt better knowing that Ellaria has the means to do whatever she wishes and yet she still stays by his side. Some have called her a whore, a gold digger, but she is far wealthier than any who would talk behind her back.

"So you're going to...house me, feed me, fuck me, be totally okay with me fucking other people if I want to, pay me...and it's...literally just...because you can?" That kind of wealth is baffling, but it also speaks to his enormous heart. That he would offer to take care of his lovers entirely purely because he cares about them.

He’s never looked at in that light. “I guess that’s one way of looking at it.” He snorts. “But…yes.” He shrugs and takes a sip of his wine. “What’s the point of being rich if you can’t do what you want?”

On anyone else the cockiness might seem flippant or disingenuous, but when it comes from Oberyn it is oddly charming. At the moment you can really only shake your head at him in disbelief. "May I be honest? Since that is one of your conditions?"

“Always.” He chuckles softly, his fingers squeezing the flesh on your belly gently. “What are you thinking, Dove?”

"That..." The thought had passed over and over in your head on the way back from your afternoon with Ellaria, and finally settled into your heart as you worked through it in your head. "I would feel more comfortable having some sort of job. Whether that is working for you somehow or even keeping my morning job, or finding something else. I just...I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I didn't have something to keep me busy."

“Whatever you want to do.” He agrees easily. “If you want to go back to school, we can make that happen.”

Now that is a thought. You'd marked your own jealousy hearing Ellaria list off his degrees earlier, and you had also been talking to her about higher education at lunch today. 'I'll think about it," you agree, though you know your heart has already latched on to the possibility of more schooling just the way it latched on to Oberyn himself. The reckless embrace of someone full of love and looking for someone to give it to.

He nods and his fingers continue to caress your skin. “There will be times you need to travel with me.” He adds. “But if your schedule conflicts, it would be understandable.” He doesn’t expect his lovers to be at his beck and call.

"Where do you travel to?" When he looks a touch surprised that you don't already have some kind of idea, you smile sheepishly. "Remember, I didn't recognize you after the party. I don't know all the Martell gossip the way everyone around here seems to."

“All over the world, Dove.” He smiles. “Martell Enterprises has its fingers in many pies.”

A moment of childish amusement has you snorting out a little laugh. "So do you," you tease.

He huffs at your quip and shakes his head. “You didn’t seem to mind when my fingers were in your pie.” He reminds you, sliding his hand down to cup your cunt.

"Oh, I don't mind at all," you clarify with ease. "Not one little bit. I quite like when your fingers are in my pie, actually."

Modified, he hums as he leans in and starts to kiss along your jaw. “What else?”

"I can't think with your lips and hands on me." It's entirely true, but the way your mind hazes over with his attention is so wonderful you don't even care.

“Is that a bad thing?” He muses, smirking slowly as he continues to touch you gently. It’s not about the sex right now, but the intimacy.

“No…” His fingers at your core are deadly in their temptation, and even though he was inside you less than half an hour ago your body is piqued to respond to him. “I guess not, but…” A mere twitch of his forefinger has you swallowing a moan.

“But.” He pauses his fingers, pulling them back slightly.

"It's playing dirty," you remind him when your head clears just a tiny bit. "Negotiating while you're touching me? Very naughty."

He chuckles, winking at you. “Never said I played fair.” He hums.

"Incorrigible." But you're not even remotely upset with him about it. If nothing else, the last hour or two of time spent with him as already proven to you that you're going to accept his term. All you need to do now is talk to Lizzy.

“I am.” He agrees, leaning in and biting your ear playfully. “And you love it.”

"I do." The shiver that runs down your spine is proof enough of that, and you tilt your head to give him full access to nip, lick, and suck anything he likes. "I really do."

******

Putting your key in the lock of your apartment door feels heavier tonight than it ever has before, even as you push the door open and shove inside the little two-bedroom walkup. Oberyn had insisted on driving you home but ended up frowning when he saw where in the city you live. Explaining that it was the place that both of you could afford to each have your own bedroom regardless of how crappy the neighborhood was, only made him frown more deeply. To mollify him, you had agreed to talk to Lizzy tonight about a timeframe for moving so that he could schedule the truck and feel more secure about your safety.

"Liz?" Her car was in the parking space so she must be here, but she isn't in the living room when you step inside. "Lizzyyyyyyy." She's in the kitchen, you can smell last night's Greek leftovers in the microwave. "How was work?"

“Hey!” The shout comes back immediately and she pokes her head out from the little galley style kitchen that is too tiny for any two people to be at the same time. “Shit, like usual. How was work for you? You’re home early.”

“Your girlfriend called Greg and quit for me.” Despite how upset you had been earlier, the fact now makes you laugh in the most disbelieving and ridiculous way. “I brought us home some dessert. I’ve got news.”

“What?” Her eyes widen and her mouth drops open. “How? Why?”

“Grab your plate and let’s go sit.” The little living room has space for a couch and a coffee table and not much else, but it will be as good a place to talk as any. “I’ll explain everything.”

“Oh my god.” She pops back into the kitchen and bangs around for a moment before she is rushing back out with a plate and a drink in her hand.

Along with the new purse Ellaria helped you pick out, you’re carrying a large bakery bag and a brand new Stanley cup filled with some of the raspberry lemonade from the same bakery where you bought to share with Lizzy. “Ok,” you grin at her eagerness and tuck yourself up on the couch with her. “First of all, I fully understand why you’re down so bad for Ellaria. She’s great.”

“Don’t tell me you slept together?” She gasps, hating herself for the tiniest twinge of jealousy when she has no claim on the woman. Just because she had completely rocked her world didn’t mean she had any obligation to her.

“No!” That startles you enough to have you sitting up all over again and reaching out to squeeze her arm. “No, no, nothing like that. I mean I definitely did have sex today, just not with her.”

“Oh, uh, I mean—” she shrugs, trying to look casual rather than relieved. “So, what makes you think she’s great?”

“Compassionate, considerate, kick ass...” For each characteristic you hold up a finger. “Honest. And she’s just as interested in you as you are in her, so she clearly has excellent taste.”

“How do you know that?” She lights up like a Christmas tree.

“Eat your dinner,” you remind her with a grin. “I may have forced her hand into telling me. I can’t quite tell. But either way, we are both about to become extremely spoiled women.”

Her brow furrows slightly in confusion. “I’m not following.” She admits, knowing that she’s already been spoiled by Ellaria in bed, but not expecting anything else.

“Okay, well…” Pulling your feet up under you on the sofa, you sip your drink slowly to try to steady yourself. “Ellaria and Oberyn want to…keep us.”

“Keep us…” she draws out the comment slowly. “Like….pets?”

“I mean…” The idea of it makes you snort, and you end up laughing. “I guess it doesn’t sound very good when you put it like that. But more like…sugar babies.”

“Sugar babies?” Her brows shoot open, fork clattering onto her plate. “Wait….that was a fucking option?!”

“It’s an option if we want it,” you confirm, trying hard not to laugh at her utter shock. Since that had been pretty much your reaction as well.

“I thought that was just….a joke.” She huffs. “Or some kind of justification for a creepy old man and a barely legal woman.”

"In this particular case, it's a new place to live, an income, and really fucking good sex." Which is nothing at all to sniff at, but you shrug your shoulders a little and let out another small laugh. "And shopping, which I know you'll love. Ellaria rolled me through every single store in that fancy ass mall in uptown."

“The one with the restaurants on the roof that we couldn’t even bring ourselves to step into?” She is jealous, now for a completely different reason.

"She asked me which place you'd like best to eat," you promise Lizzy, seeing the pout forming on your best friend's lips. "So expect a call asking you to have dinner with her tomorrow night."

“Oh?” her brows wing up dramatically and there’s a slightly giggly look on her face. “Really?”

“Really.” Seeing her this excited about it only solidifies in your mind how right of a decision this is. How much you both will benefit and be so much happier with this arrangement. And how unhappy you’ve both been recently by comparison. “I’m supposed to lay out the whole deal for you tonight, and you can negotiate with Ellaria or straight out accept or refuse at dinner.”

“Hit me with it.” She’s not dumb, she knows you’ve already had this talk with Oberyn. “Have you accepted already?”

“I said I wouldn’t formally accept without talking to you first,” you admit. “Since it would mean moving out.”

“Housing.” She nods, even though she’s damn sure that Ellaria would never offer her that. She’ll need to find another roommate.

“Don’t frown like that, I wouldn’t abandon you.” Especially not everything she did to keep you going when you would have just sunken into a pit of depression after your break up a year ago. “If we take their terms, both of us, we get a brand new renovated apartment in the west wing of the Martell mansion.”

“Wait…” she shakes her head in awe. “They want us to live there??” She whispers in awe. “Who the fuck are these people?”

“I’ve been asking myself the same question all afternoon,” you admit, giggling as you pull out the box of pastry you purchased, all neatly tied up with red and white twine. “But Ellaria says it’s because Oberyn is greedy. He wants her — and I guess, me — nearby all the time. And if she’s staying at your place then she won’t be near him. So it keeps everyone happier if we’re all in the house together.”

“So they truly just do whatever they want.” She shakes her head in amazement. “What happens when they change their minds? Or get bored with us?”

“Our income is paid on the first of every year.” You have to brace yourself for this part. For how Lizzy will react to the number. “It’s November second today, so we would get first year income when we agree and second year on new years. It’s…it’s a million dollars a year, times however many years we’ve been with them. So if anyone changes their mind, they’re not left out in the cold. We can just go, with plenty of money to survive on and any gifts we’ve been given.”

“What the fuck did you just say?” She hisses, leaning forward and practically dumping her plate onto the table, forgotten and unwanted right now.

“I know,” you groan, holding up your hands in a show of innocence. “I know. It’s insane! But that’s their number and they’re not immovable on it. It’s a non-negotiable point.”

“They want to give us one million dollars every year we are together? Having great sex and sleeping in their mansion?” She asks.

"Two million for the second year. Three for the third. And so on." What else can you really do but nod? It's an insane amount of money and you both know it.

“That is….insane.” She throws herself back into the worn couch she had bought second hand and had seen better days.

“Yes it is.” You can agree to that wholeheartedly. “We live with them, we basically earn a living being companions, and if we want to take any other lovers or whatever, we just…do. Work or don’t work. School or no school. We can literally do whatever we want.” Shaking your head in understandable disbelief, you open the pastry box and offer her first pick of the pieces inside. “It’s literally the dream.”

“Dear God.” She snorts. “Just when I thought she couldn’t be any more perfect.” Her eyes widen, “do you think Ellaria has that arrangement with Oberyn? They’ve been together for years.”

“I know she does,” you nod, taking a fruit tart from the box when Lizzy picks out a piece of chocolate dipped shortbread. “She’s the one who explained it to me originally. The only thing that’s different about her and my arrangement from yours is that you won’t have any stipulations about possible kids.”

“Yeah…” she snorts. “I don’t think that’s possible for us, but hun-“ she tilts her head. “Are you thinking about that?”

“Not anytime soon.” The first bite of your tart is full of sweet and tangy glazed persimmon and you moan happily over it before going on. “But you know how badly I want kids. It’s just nice to know that Oberyn gives a shit about his daughters just in case, ya know?”

“I can understand that. All of the Sand Snakes, as he calls them, are very well loved.” She lifts a brow at you.

“Look I’m not saying I’m going to go off my birth control just because he has a breeding kink.” That makes both of you laugh, and you savor another bite of your tart. “I’m just saying if it happens, I won’t be upset.”

“I think it’s obvious the man has a breeding kink.” She hums. “Ellaria has given birth to four of them. And she doesn’t look like it at all.”

“That would be thanks to the endless libido and the in-home gym.” Ellaria had also showed you her small yoga studio and said you and Lizzy should use it whenever you liked. Their generosity extends to absolutely everything, it seems. “What do you think? I mean I know you want Ellaria, that part is easy. But…what about the rest?”

“I don’t know.” Her voice is dripping with sarcasm and she gestures around the small apartment. “Leave all this behind?”

You snort, joining her in laughter, and sip from your drink again. “They’ll want us to give our input on the remodeling if those rooms are going to be ours. I’m going to give my two weeks at the cafe and go by there after work tomorrow.”

“Jesus, we even get to remodel our little slut nests.” She cackles. “We will be kept women!”

“That…is the idea,” you admit with another laugh. “Except no shame and full freedom.”

“I don’t want you to feel like my relationship with Ellaria should impact yours with Oberyn.” She knows you, so she immediately brings that up. “If we don’t last, that doesn’t mean you have to feel guilty or end things with him.”

"Likewise. Although I know you're less likely to let that impact your decision than I am." At least you know each other well enough to predict that sort of thing, and well enough to be honest with each other about it. "Just because it seems perfect in the beginning doesn't mean anything in the long run. We both know how relationships go."

“There will be ups and downs.” She agrees.

"This might be our greatest adventure," you tell her, grinning like an idiot. "Even more than when we keyed Professor McMahler's car for being a dick to you during sophomore year."

“He definitely deserved that.” She points at you and laughs. “But this is sooooo much better. And to think that dick said I would never amount to anything.” She huffs dramatically, “He was obviously wrong.”

"I'm...thinking about going back to school." The uncertainty is written on your face, but ever since it was suggested you can't get the idea out of your head. Getting your master's was once a life goal that you were distinctly in the running to achieve. When your boyfriend became your fiancé and suggested working for his family while you saved money for more school, you had thought it was the most practical thing in the world. You hadn't even sniffed the deception for a single second.

“That’s great!” She’s always hated that you didn’t further your education and if you have the opportunity to do it, you should go for it. “Will Oberyn be alright with the time spent studying?”

"I think so." A small smile tucks itself in the corner of your mouth. "He's offered to pay for school in addition to my income."

“Jesus, you don’t even have to pay for it!” She squeals. “Do it! You have to do it!”

"I still have to get in," you remind her, but the two of you end up doubled over in giggles all over again. "But thank you for your support, honey."

“With your transcripts?” She waves away your concern. “It’s a no brainer.”

"I love you and appreciate your blind faith in me." The last bite of your tart goes down with a happy hum you lean back on the couch to sigh contentedly. "It means you could quit your job if you want to. Put energy into finding work you actually like." You raise one eyebrow at her. "Or think about art school."

“But how can I possibly live the struggling artist life?” She huffs dramatically.

"With food in your stomach, and a roof over your head that doesn't leak, and with a warm bed," you huff right back at her. "Seriously, Liz. You should at least think about it. You're a beautiful photographer. You could even use some of that million to start up your business finally."

“That is the dream.” The possibilities are endless and she bites her lip. “You think I should?” Despite you feeling like she is always supporting you, you have definitely been a cheerleader for her hopes and dreams. Far more than she could ever articulate and it’s almost a relief that the two of you could experience this life change together.

“If you need a secretary or assistant or whatever, I can work for you,” you offer readily. Do some wedding gigs or whatever and boost your brand while I take my masters classes?” Every single moment of this happiness is thanks to Oberyn and Ellaria and you’re so acutely aware of it that you feel like you want to run back to the mansions and fling your arms around both of them. Ask them if they truly understand the way they’re changed your lives. “Anything is possible now.”

“All because we crashed their masquerade.” She grins. “Didn’t I tell you everything would be fine?”

“You said it would be fine,” you tease, pulling your phone out of your pocket when it buzzes insistently. Oberyn has gotten home and has decided to send you some rather salacious photos from the pool. “But this? This is far better than fine.”

Without any hesitation or remorse, she looks over at your phone and whistles. “Goddamn.” She hums. “If only I liked dick.” She teases. “You got yourself a good one, babe.” She grins. “Why don’t we go tell them the good news in person.” The phone dings again and it’s a picture of him and Ellaria. “Right now.”

“Because I was going to do the responsible thing and go to work in the morning to hand in my notice in person.” Despite the coffeeshop job being far less than ideal and your boss being horrible, you were going to be responsible about leaving. It seemed decent, after what happened with the pizza place.

“Fuck that.” She snorts. “We have had our lives completely changed by not doing the responsible thing.” Her grin is wicked. “Wouldn’t you rather fuck him by his gorgeous pool?”

“Of course I would.” There is no hesitation necessary for that decision.

“Then put on a swimsuit and let’s go.” She snorts.

******

Adjusting the set of his bow tie, Oberyn watches the mirror as you touch up your makeup. Enjoying the little trappings of vanity that you claim are not important but you continue to do so. He would never claim that it makes you more beautiful, but it enhances your eyes and draws them to the purple lace masque that you will be wearing tonight.

“I can feel you watching me.” There is a sing song in your voice, and nothing but affectionate teasing in your tone, because you know that Oberyn likes to study the ones he loves and learn them. After a year together, you have watched and learned him, too. Like the fact that his mask tonight is purple trimmed with gold — the two colors that you and Ellaria are wearing — despite only wearing a classic black costume himself. The cut of the regency finery looks remarkable on him and you smooth one hand over your empire waist dress as you check your reflection one more time in the mirror.

Tonight needs to be — will be — perfect.

“Why would I not be?” He chuckles, turning and boldly staring at you. “I had anticipated all of us getting ready together, but the other two were still in bed.” He had snorted when he had walked into the scene and wished them fun.

“When are they not?” Ellaria and Lizzy’s passion is honest and makes your best friend the happiest she’s ever been, so you’re certainly not going to begrudge them a moment of it. “Besides, won’t you love the moment you get to look up at Ellaria coming down the grand staircase in her costume for the first time?”

“I almost wish that I could do the same with you, but this is your masquerade by my side.” He teases, “officially.”

"Still, I won't monopolize your night," you promise, finally standing up from the vanity and leaning in to kiss his cheek. "Who knows. Someone may catch your eye. I have it on good authority that you quite enjoying picking out a new lover at these things."

He chuckles and his hand wraps around your body to pull you close. “I do.” He growls playfully, “but there is this one.” He hums, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. “I find her intoxicating. I might have to bring her to my bed tonight.”

"Is that so?" The happy sigh in your voice is worth everything, and your eyes are soft and dreamy looking up at him. "I don't think you'll have any trouble convincing her at all. I have it on very good authority."

“Put in a good word for me?” He smirks and his hand slides down to your ass. “I missed you last night.” He admits. He had been traveling with Ellaria and only made it back before the party, which is why she is currently wrapped up with your best friend.

"I missed you, too." His busy travel schedule and frequent meetings have meant that he has been away for a good portion of the last several weeks. Sometimes you go with him and sometimes Ellaria does, but it has been a little to your advantage to have him away recently. It's allowed you to prepare a little surprise for him.

“Ellaria wants to take Lizzy away for the weekend.” Oberyn tells you. “A little anniversary trip to celebrate.” He caresses your back. “What do you think about a little trip of our own? I was thinking that little island I own in Fiji. You, me, and a private beach?”

"How very romantic." Still, you tilt your head slightly and smirk at him. "And convenient. No need for clothes on a private island."

“That’s right.” He snaps his fingers as if the thought just occurred to him. “That was the farthest thing from my mind.”

"I'm sure you had not thought of it at all," you tease him right back. "In fact I am notoriously fully clothed around you, lover."

“Of course you are.” He snorts. “Practically a nun.”

"Oh yes." This time you can't hold back the snort, dissolving into giggles. "I pray to god every night."

“I do hear you calling out his name quite often.” He smirks as he watches you.

"Very often." Still smirking, you nudge him playfully. "We should go down. Make sure everything is ready before the guest start arriving."

“So organized.” He teases with a wink as he steps back and turns to over you his arm.

"One of us has to be." Looping your hand through his elbow, you lean into his side as the two of you head down the now-familiar hallway toward the grand staircase. "And you have been so very business oriented lately. So let me be the organized one tonight."

“You have enjoyed planning tonight.” When it comes to the grand details, there are planners, but Oberyn had given control of the night to you, wanting to see what you would change about his masquerade.

It hadn't been much, but you had put a little spin on it this year, theming things to feel like a spooky and fantastical old-fashioned ball. From the flickering candlelight in the ballroom to the evocative music that you picked out, what you want more than anything is for Oberyn to be proud of the way you put his beloved masquerade together.

“Should we have a glass of champagne to celebrate before we go down?” He asks, smiling softly at you.

"I had a special drink made for tonight." At the stairs you squeeze his arm a little tighter and pick up your skirt to make sure you don't trip, but he guides you downstairs so easily that it feels like walking on water.

There are members of the waitstaff milling around and people tweaking the decorations to make sure everything is perfect, but when you and Oberyn appear in the ballroom a bartender appears at your sides almost instantly. Thanking her, you take both glasses from the tray and hand one to Oberyn. "Happy anniversary, my love."

"To the night that has changed our lives for the better." He hums, tapping his glass against yours and taking a sip of the cocktail. His brow furrows and he takes another sip. "Dove, they may have misunderstood your instructions for your drink." He sniffs and examines it. "It's apple cider and cranberry, I believe." He tilts his head. "But it is missing the alcohol." The familiar burn is missing, although it could just be very well hidden.

“No,” you shake your head, unable to keep a misty, dreamy little smile from your lips. “It’s just right.”

His expression is filled with curiosity. "A dry masquerade?" He muses. "That will be a surprise for the guests."

“I would never do that to your guests.” Especially not when Oberyn’s parties are rightfully legendary. The Bacchanalia would go down in history books if anyone but guests knew. “But…this version will have to be enough for me.” The smile on your lips grows, along with the warmth of excitement and pride in your chest. “For about the next seven months or so.”

Eyes widening in delight, his gaze immediately drops down to your stomach. Your hand has drifted over it, protective and proud. "Dove." He sets aside the glass and pulls you into his arms to kiss you until both of you are dizzy.

You knew he would be happy, but the sensation of being all but swept off your feet has you clinging to him — and to your glass — as he pulls you into his embrace. The sweet, deep, joyous kiss is as passionate as any he's given you before but this one is marked with so much happiness that you can feel him smiling against your lips.

"You must be about eight weeks along?" He asks breathlessly as he pulls away. His own hand sliding down to cover your stomach possessively. "Have you seen a doctor?"

"Earlier this week." Still a bit breathless from the kiss, you nod and absorb the warmth of him as well as the absolute warmth of the sweet gesture. His hand over your stomach for the very first time. "We're both happy and healthy and the baby is right in line for being eight weeks along."

"We must have conceived in Morocco." He smiles again, pressing his lips to yours. "That trip that you were so stressed about your paper during and I helped you relax." He had wanted to take you, knowing you had never ben before and it had taken some convincing to get you to agree. Now, it will be one of his favorite places because you had gotten pregnant there.

"I'm glad that I only have a year of my master's left." The fact of the timing has been haunting you, being only halfway through your work, but when you had actually sorted through it you had realized it was a blessing. "I can take summer semester off, like education maternity leave." You smile at him, beaming, and kiss him again. "I'm due at the end of May."

"You know that you can always go back." He promises. "May." He smiles softly. "We will have to make sure that you are spoiled and comfortable."

"Because you never spoil me," you tease with a heavy roll of your eyes.

"Not like you've ever seen before." He promises with another soft kiss to your lips. "But you will find out what it will be like."

"Only Lizzy knows, and now you." Your best friend had been the one to nudge you to the pharmacy to buy a pregnancy test and help you make a doctor's appointment, but being sworn to secrecy meant that she had not breathed a word to anyone in the process. "I thought you would want to tell Ellaria together."

"Together." He agrees, smiling at you. "Tonight at the ball will be the perfect setting for it."

"I love you." As many times as you have ever said it before, you mean it more each and every time. Life with Oberyn has been more of a blessing than you could ever have hoped for, and now the baby you've always wanted is on their way.

------

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Spooktober 2024: @inept-the-magnificent

[absurdthirst]

The Dornish Sun {Oberyn Martell x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 18.1k

Warnings: Step Uncle/Niece relationship, slight age gap, fingering, oral sex (female and male receiving), loss of virginity, pregnancy, childbirth, angst, infidelity, heartbreak, war, murder, rape, threesomes, mff relationship, poisoning, revenge

Comments: Of course a love story with Oberyn Martell would be tumultuous. Especially when the Seven Kingdoms is in chaos and the Baratheon rebellion breaks out.

A/N: You know that scene in HOTD where Rhaenyra leaves her birthing bed to take the baby to see the Queen? That completely inspired this.

🚨🚨DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT - this story contains canonical events including murder and rape (Elia Martell)🚨🚨

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Oberyn Martell MasterList ||

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

Doran Martell married your mother and took you as his own daughter when you were eight years old. Carrying you away from the moldering estates you were born on and you had finished growing up in the castle at Sunspear and then later the Water Gardens when your father had grown too ill to stay in the steeply staircased fortress with his wheelchair. 

The day you met Oberyn, his youngest sibling and only brother, you had fallen in love. His chiseled jaw, uncaring demeanor and his delight in allowing you to follow him around had created a painful crush for you, your cheeks heating to near flames when he had picked you up as a towering teenager of fourteen. He was your handsome red viper as you heard others call him and you had decided then and there that one day, you would marry Oberyn and become his princess. 

When you were a woman grown, your crush had not waned. Growing even deeper and embedding in your heart to where no one but Oberyn would do, you argued with your papa that you should be aligned with the second born heir to House Martell, solidifying your place in the family and your own succession if Arianne did not wish to take over when your father passed. It did not help that you could tell Oberyn wanted you, his eyes following you as you went about your duties, the small smirk on his lips far from familial affection. 

“Give me one reason, a good reason why I cannot marry for love?” You ask, your jaw set in stubborn determination as you look over at your father, the subject of husbands ones that you are tired of talking about. You do not want any of the men your father has suggested would make good husbands. “You married mother for love.” 

Doran sighs, rubbing his cheek, “that was different. Your mother…Oberyn is your uncle.” Doran argues and you shake your head. 

“We are not blood. He is my uncle in name only.” You counter. Your own lord father had passed when you were aged six, meaning your mother was eligible to marry Doran and thus you have younger half siblings. 

“It will not look good to our enemies. Allowing my daughter to marry my brother…they will cry out in protest.” Doran argues and you scoff. 

“Like the Lannister rumors aren’t worse?” You argue and Doran shakes his head. 

“I do not care about the Lannisters. You are my daughter and you shall marry to help our alliances. A lord from the North, a Stark, has asked for your hand. You will be marrying him.”

“I do not want to leave Dorne.” You frown, unable to even imagine living in the cold north with those joyless Starks. Duty and winter coming are all they care about, you had not been impressed when you had met them two years ago when Ned Stark and another had traveled to Dorne to speak with your father. “I wish to feel the sun on my skin, the sand under my feet. I belong here.” 

“You belong where I tell you that you belong. You will marry the Stark boy. You will allow our alliances to continue and you will do your duty. Seven hells, I saved you and your mother from a destitute life and you shall repay me for that.” Doran’s tone is final, no longer the loving father you’ve come to adore, no, he’s a prince. A leader.

You hiss in anger, pushing away from the table with a loud screech from your chair and rushing away. Heartbroken and angry that your father would condemn you to a fate that in your mind is worse than death. Running through the halls towards the gardens, your slippers are silent on the stone floors and your floating dress flaps behind you. You will not marry a Stark, you will not. 

Oberyn is walking down the hallway when he sees you running. He reaches out to stop you, his hands on your shoulders. “My sun, why are you running? Surely my brother has not been so cruel as to make you run away from the beautiful gardens?” He coos, cupping your cheeks when you look at him, tears in your eyes.

“Father is sending me to Winterfell.” You close your eyes and the tears slip down your cheek. “I am to be wed to a Stark, to live my days in the snows of the North where the sun freezes.” You swallow and open your eyes again, looking into his dark orbs. “I - I do not want to wed into that house. I wish to stay here, with you - and father.” 

The look in Oberyn's eyes is harsh, soft gaze turns to steel as he imagines you in Winterfell, belonging to another man. No, he won't allow it. Despite his brother's urges that he should find a bride, Oberyn has been unable to move on from you. You - you are his niece by name but not by blood yet the guilt of wanting you, of loving you, has never waned. However, to imagine you with another...it's more than Oberyn can take. "Come with me to my rooms, we shall drink some wine and discuss what can be done to change my brother's mind." He cups your cheek before taking your hand, eager to guide you to his chambers.

You follow him willingly and will follow him anywhere. His exile several years ago had been hard to deal with and you had often come to his chambers to sleep while he was gone, the servants finding you asleep in his bed. Now, you spend less time with him since you are a lady, your father wanting you to appear more mature for your station and years. Despite the lax nature of Dorne compared to the rest of the Seven Kingdoms, you are still under scrutiny. 

“Oberyn.” He squeezes your hand and you fall silent, entering the large bedchamber and watching as he lets go of your hand to walk over to the pitcher of wine that is ever present on a table along with his favored berries.

Oberyn pours you a glass, handing you the goblet before repeating the action for himself. “Sit.” He orders, pointing to the loveseat and he brings you the wine and sits down beside you. “Tell me why you do not wish to marry a Stark.” He wants to hear you say what he suspects but he won’t show his hand just yet.

Looking away, you take a sip of your wine. It would be better if you were a man and could be expected to speak plainly about such things. Even here you were not supposed to acknowledge the ache you have for a man, not while still being innocent. “Ned Stark is boring.” You whisper. “Too self righteous and I-“ you pause, glancing at your handsome uncle by marriage before you look down at your cup. “I love another.”

Oberyn isn’t dumb. He’s seen the way you look at him and he knows he should say no, that it’s foolish for you to want him…but he can’t. Not when he feels the same. He was exiled, returned home to no one but you. You talked to him, you listened to his stories and he fell in love with his niece by marriage. “Marriage is not always about love, my sun. Marriages are for alliances. Political purposes. Do you wish to put your father at a disadvantage for love? Is this love too great to ignore in favor of your duty?” He asks, having asked himself that same question many times when Doran tried to marry him off but he is far too stubborn.

“What about my duty to my own heart?” You shake your head, dismayed because you thought of all people - Oberyn would understand. “I would not be a good wife to a man I could not endure. How would I lay in his bed, under his rutting body and bear his children?” You bite your lip, sighing and lifting your cup to your lips again. “My father has other alliances, other deals he can make. My heart shouldn’t be a bartering tool.” 

Oberyn’s cock twitches at the thought of you beneath him and the jealousy he feels at the thought of someone else touching you, having you. It makes his jaw clench. “You would rather have passion? A husband who wants to make you shake with pleasure? A man who will suck on your nipples until you are dripping wet, his fingers finding your bundle of nerves, making you moan until he buries his tongue deep into your cunt, working your tight heat until you nearly drown him. A man who will slide his cock into you with the aim to make you cum, make you clench around his length until your thighs are shaking, instead of purely to get you pregnant. Is that what you want, my sun?” He leans closer, his breath washing over your face.

You whimper pitifully at the vivid imagery he creates with his words. Breath hitching and you inhale the sweet scent of wine and berries from his too close mouth. Your eyes flit down, tracing the angel’s kiss on his lower lip and your tongue slides out to wet your own, having wanted to trace his lips so often that you swear you have done it before. You can barely look back up into his own dark eyes and you swear you see lust in their depths. “Yes.” You whisper, nodding and pressing your thighs together to quell the ache there. “I want y- that.”

Oberyn leans even closer, reaching for the goblet so he can set them both down on the table nearby. You exhale shakily as he moves away from you, heart pounding and you are upset he doesn’t want you, tears stinging in your eyes. Oberyn takes a moment, knowing this will change everything but he can’t hold back anymore. He wants you. He turns back, seeing the way your eyes avoid his and he tuts, surging forward to press his lips to yours but before he says “I want you, my sun.”

Melting into him, you moan into the kiss, allowing him to take over completely. Clinging to the edges of his robe, your entire body lights up with the glorious knowledge that Oberyn wants you. “Have me.” You beg when he kisses along your jaw. “I am yours.” You know you shouldn’t, that you should pull away but you don’t think about that. Too caught up in your dream coming true to act rationally. 

Oberyn should pull back, he definitely shouldn't go any further than this but fuck, he has been keeping away for so long, it feels physically painful to pull back from you in this moment. His tongue slides into your mouth and he reaches for you to pull you into his lap, his breath mingling with yours as he methodically tugs on the strings that keep your robes in place.

You aren’t completely innocent. You know the reputation Oberyn has started to cultivate. It was one of the reasons why he was exiled for that dark time when you were younger. He has had lovers and yet you do not hesitate when you feel the warm air from the open windows on your skin. Your nipples are hard from need and you let him unlace your dress and strip you down with an eagerness that can’t be contained as you run your hands along his broad shoulders and slip them under the light linen brocade to touch his heated skin. 

Your touch ignites something in him and he grabs your thighs, lifting you up as he stands and he throws you onto his bed. Shrugging off his robe to expose his chest and upper arms before he strides over to hover over you. “You have no idea, my sun, how many times I imagined seeing these tits.” He groans, leaning down to take a nipple into his mouth. 

Gasping out his name, your eyes close in pleasure. Fingers digging into the silk sheets on his bed and twisting them in your hands while he sucks at your breast. The wet heat of his mouth is deliriously good and yet you want more, your dress pooled at your hips and you want to be bare underneath him. “P-please.” You beg, arching your back to offer yourself to him. 

Oberyn isn’t in a rush, especially since he knows you are innocent. “Patience.” He tuts as he lifts up to switch to your other breast, leaning down to take it into his mouth, his dark eyes focusing on you while his hands caress your waist, one coming up to squeeze the breast he just abandoned.

You whimper, biting your lip and trying to just let yourself experience his touch. To not beg for more than he is wanting to give you right now. Your legs shift, thighs pressing together and you take advantage of him without his shirt. You had spent so much of your day drooling over his practices in the courtyards while shirtless and you touch his broad shoulders and back with a happy moan while he bites down on your nipple. 

Oberyn tuts, reaching for your thighs to push them apart so he can press his body against yours, his cock hardening under his robes. He kisses your clavicle, up your neck until his body covers yours. “So eager, aren’t you? You want more?” He teases, pressing feather-like kisses to your jaw while his fingers slide under your gown, caressing your thigh.

“Yes. Please, more.” You whine, enjoying the way that his chest drags against your wet breasts. Your cunt clenches at the hardness that he is slowly grinding against you. “Oberyn.” You are in heaven right now, this is what you have always imagined and your nails drag down his back and you grab his ass in the leather breeches he is wearing, suddenly bolder than an innocent virgin should be. There is no fear, only want and need right now. 

Oberyn chuckles at your eagerness, his fingers sliding higher until he finds your wet cunt, covered by the curls. “Mmm. So wet.” He groans softly, sliding his fingers through your folds a couple of times until he rubs your clit. “You’re so beautiful, my sun. Always - always imagined this.” He admits, knowing he’s tugged on his cock far too many times thinking about you recently. Or had another around him while he imagined it was you.

“I love you.” Your confession slips out unprompted, but you do. It has always been Oberyn since you have laid eyes on him. It will always be him. Your eyes close again and you let out a low moan while he rubs your clit as if he had done it a thousand times before. It was not like you hadn’t touched yourself before but it was so much more pleasurable with his fingers. 

Your confession makes his heart thump in his chest and he knows you didn’t say it for him to say it back, you said it because it’s true. His fingers continue working your clit and he presses his lips back to yours, sliding his hand lower so he can push a finger into your tight cunt.

Gasping in delight and pleasure, your walls stretch around him, the thick finger curling up into your cunt. Grinding down on his hand wantonly, you know that this will be perfect. He is skilled and you love him, your walls clamping down around his finger while you turn your head to nip his jaw with your teeth like you have imagined doing a thousand times. You want to mark him, claim him as your own. 

Oberyn groans softly at your nip, “my little sun has fire.” He chuckles, adding another finger as he pushes the digits inside of you. He wants you to feel only pleasure so he wants you dripping down his wrist. His thumb presses against your clit while his lips find yours again.

Whimpering against his neck, your arm tightens around him while he curls his fingers up. Taken beyond what you had ever been able to do yourself, you feel your legs start to shake while that tension builds up in your core. Hips meeting the thrust of his fingers on their own, your moans are uninhibited and you don’t care who would hear you beyond his doors. 

Oberyn groans when your walls clamp down on his fingers when he presses his thumb against your clit a little harder, sending you over the edge. “So good, my sun. Can’t wait to be inside of you.” He murmurs, working you through it and he is determined to taste you too before he takes your innocence.

You cry out, back arching and colors burst behind your eyelids as pleasure courses through your body. “O-Oberyn!” You cling to him, shuddering and shaking underneath his touch. He keeps curling his fingers as he works you through it until you are panting out, completely wrung out. 

Oberyn groans your name, loving the way you shake and the way you are already so spent. He chuckles, kissing your jaw and he shifts to kneel between your thighs, working on removing the rest of your gown so he can see all of you. “I want to see you, my sun. I want you bare. Mind, body, and soul.”

Lifting your hips, you have no shame as Oberyn strips you down to your skin. Laying in his bed as the evening rays of light shine through the slates covering his windows, you feel like this is where you are supposed to be. Watching as he rocks back onto his knees and looks down at your nude, virginal body. “I am yours.” You whisper, meaning every word. 

Oberyn offers you a soft smile, nodding in understanding, and he caresses your calf before he shifts off of the bed to push his breeches down, releasing his aching cock from its confines. He desperately wants to slide into you but he can’t, he wants to taste you first.

You had not expected his mouth. When you had seen his cock, your leg had spread in anticipation of him climbing between them. Of feeling him deep inside you. Instead you gasp when his shoulders push your legs wider, his chuckle filthy when he winks at you and lowers his mouth to your dripping cunt to lick a long stripe through your folds. “Gods!” You cry out, head tilting back and fingers tangling into the silk sheets again. 

Oberyn’s tongue is eager, sliding deeper inside of you and his nose presses against your clit. His fingers dig into your thighs, pushing them back towards your stomach so his tongue can slide deeper into your cunt. “You taste so good.” He smacks his lips as he pulls back for a moment before he dives back in.

If his fingers were magical, his tongue is even more so. Curling deep inside you to make you squirm before he is pulling out and flicking it against your clit, pulling another gasp out of you. Lewdly learning your body in a way that you had heard of but never imagined would be as good as it is. Quickly feeling your stomach clenching as he lashes your clit again and again with his tongue and pushing you towards another orgasm. 

Your thighs start to shake and press against his head and he knows you are close. He wants you to cum so he continues lashing your clit, sucking and licking until his jaw hurts and when you cry out, he buries his tongue into your walls, wanting to feel them flutter.

It was even better than your first orgasm. The rush of heat flooding your cunt makes him moan and you whimper at the way that he is eager to taste all of you, his tongue dipping back inside you. Your thighs try to close around his head but they can’t at his mercy until you are crying out again and shoving weakly at his shoulder to move him away. 

Oberyn doesn’t move away right away, he smacks his lips, kissing your clit and chuckling at the way you whine so he backs off, kneeling between your legs and wrapping his fingers around his aching cock. “My sun, are you certain that this is what you want?” He asks, wanting to make sure you want him to take your innocence.

“I have loved you since I was a child, Oberyn.” Your eyes greedily stare at him, drinking in how perfect he looks hard and wanting you. You are not scared of his length or size, knowing that he was going to fit perfectly inside you as he slowly strokes himself. “I am sure that I want nothing more than for you to take my innocence.” 

Oberyn nods, certain that he wants you, he has wanted you since your eight and ten name day, knowing you were a woman had shone a new light on you and he has wanted you ever since. “Tell me if it hurts. It will hurt to begin with but we will go slow.” He promises, shifting closer until he can notch his cock at your entrance, slowly pushing into you.

Your soft cry is mixed with tears as he fills you, but they are ones of joy. Lashes fluttering as you feel the weight of him starting to settle over your body and his cock butting up against the thin barrier of your innocence. His lips press against yours before he pushes through the thin barrier of your innocence and hums at the way your body locks up around him.

Oberyn leans closer to kiss away your tears, his heart pounding in his chest as he looks at your beautiful face. “Are you okay, my sun?” He asks, not moving while you adjust to his cock inside of you. You’re so hot, so tight, so wet, it’s hard to maintain control but he will.

“Perfect.” It’s a struggle to keep your eyes open but you want to see him. Reaching up and caressing his sharp cheek while he holds still over you. Wanting to commit this to memory since it is the perfect moment. “Move, my prince.” You beg him softly. “I want to feel every inch of you.” 

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He starts to move, his dark eyes focused on you in case there’s any pain but all he sees is love in your eyes. It makes his heart twist. He shifts, resting his weight on his elbows so he can bury his face in your neck, kissing along it and breathing you in.

Every push of his hips makes you moan, your arms winding around his neck and your legs coming up to rest on his hips. He feels amazing and you don’t have any of the discomfort that you had secretly worried about with a husband. Oberyn is perfect and the love you have makes it even better. “Oh Gods, Obeyrn.” You whimper. “It’s so- so good.” 

Your whimper spurs him on to make you cum. His arms sliding under you to pull you closer and his hips rock into you, hitting the back of your thighs. “So beautiful. So perfect.” His voice is raspy and he is desperate for you to cum for him one more time.

It is everything that you want, loving how he is starting to move steadily. Closing your eyes and moaning as he fills you again and again with the heavy stroke of his cock. Pushing you towards exquisite pleasure every time he touches deep inside you. “Oberyn.” You whimper softly. 

“That’s it, my love. Cum for me. Please. Cum for me.” He grunts, pushing into you and dropping his hips so the coarse hair at the base of his cock brushes against your clit. You cry out and he knows he got the right angle. “Cum for me. Soak my cock, my sun.” He orders, kissing your neck as his breath is heavy in your ear.

When you go over the edge, your cry fills his ear. Giving into his order and your body shakes underneath him while you go exactly what he orders you to do. Soaking his cock in a hot rush of cum that sounds loud when he pushes through the resistance of your fluttering walls. 

“Fuck.” Oberyn curses at how you soak him, gripping his cock in a vice but he can’t stop himself. He should pull out but the thought of filling you up, putting his seed inside of you and potentially his child has him falling over the edge within a half dozen thrusts. “Fuck!” He growls, pushing his cock deep as he cums, groaning your name while he paints your walls.

You whimper in delight at the warmth of his seed inside you. You know it is risky but you don’t care, moaning softly and stroking his back lightly while he continues to rock his hips as he rides out his high. Relaxing back into the bed when he is done and you can’t help but give a slight giggle, completely worn out by your new lover. “Wow.” 

Oberyn chuckles at your reaction, glad you enjoyed it. He certainly did. “I love you, my sun.” He murmurs, lifting his head to look into your eyes. It’s true, he adores you, always has, and he has loved you since you blossomed into a woman. He kisses you, slow and deeply, his tongue sliding against yours.

You lean into the kiss, enjoying the intimacy of it while he licks into your mouth. Your fingers tangle into the hair at the nap of his neck and you sigh happily, knowing that you have gotten your wish and you will cherish it forever. When he pulls back you smile up at him. “Thank you, Oberyn. I love you.” 

Oberyn caresses your cheek. “Let’s move you over and you can get some rest. You must be exhausted, my love.” He brushes his thumb over your cheekbone, “I love you too. Sleep. When you awaken, we will feast on fruits and cheese, I’ll send for some more wine.” He tells you, brushing your hair back.

Having sex for the first time is surprisingly exhausting. Turning over and curling up against the pillow that Oberyn sleeps on has your eyes fluttering closed within minutes. It doesn’t hurt that he is stroking your hair and shoulder, relaxing you more than you thought it would as you drift off to sleep with a smile on your face. 

Oberyn caresses you until you are asleep, then he carefully, so carefully, tugs on the sheet beneath you, easing it out from under you before he redresses. Striding down the hall, he has the sheet folded up when he enters his brother’s chambers. “Oberyn? What are you doing here?” Doran asks, a weary smile on his face for his younger brother. He loves him but he is exhausting. 

“Let me marry her.” He says, chin pointed in defiance as he awaits his brother’s response.

Doran sighs and runs his hand down his face, looking over to the door as if he expects you to peek around the corner like you had when you were a child. Obviously you had run to Oberyn but he was surprised that his younger brother was entertaining your notion of love. “She will wed Ned Stark.” He tells his brother. “You will choose a wife now? After all this time?” Oberyn had always scoffed at the idea of marriage, unless he was ordered to by his brother and Doran loved him enough that he hadn’t had the heart. 

Oberyn nods his head, “I will choose a wife. I choose her.” He declares.

Doran sighs, “you are going to send me to an early grave, dear brother. She is promised to Ned Stark.” 

Oberyn chuckles, shaking his head. “A man as noble as Ned Stark would surely want his lady wife to be pure. To not provide him with a Dornish man’s bastard.” 

Doran narrows his eyes, growing suspicious. “Oberyn…what did you do?” He hisses and Oberyn takes the sheet from behind his back, opening it to display the blood on the sheets. 

“Your darling daughter’s innocence…displayed on my sheets.”

“Gods be cursed!” There is a book in Doran’s lap that is quickly hurled at Oberyn, who merely ducks it. If his mobility has not seriously deteriorated over the last year, he would challenge the boy who had been the baby of the family. “You ruined her! For what? Your pride? Another conquest? You could have all the whores in the Seven Kingdom and you chose to make my daughter - your niece - your next whore?” Doran shouts, apoplectic with rage. Oberyn is not a liar, if he said he took your innocence, then that is what is staining his sheet. “Did you fill her?” 

Oberyn nods, “I did. You do not wish for Ned Stark to be saddled with my bastard, do you? It will not shine well on Dorne. Dear brother, she loves me. She wants to be mine.” 

Doran shakes his head, “she doesn’t know what she wants! She is a child!” Doran growls. 

“She is a woman. You have to accept that. She knows her own mind, her own heart. She loves me. I - I love her. Marry her to me. No one need know of her predicament. We can protect her. A royal wedding will please the people. Brother, she is ruined if you send her north. We are ruined.”

Doran shakes his head, dismayed and yet there is truth to his words. “You will hurt her.” He predicts sadly, sighing. “Your selfishness has ruined my daughter and our chance to align with the Starks.” He turns his head and stares out the window for a moment before his shoulders slump in defeat. What’s done is done. “You will marry her before your bastard is showing in her belly.” He decides finally in a tired voice.

****

“You may now kiss your bride.” The priest tells Oberyn who grins, surging forward to kiss you while you are covered by the Martell cloak. His fingers caress your cheeks and you smile against his lips, unable to believe he is your husband. The crowd erupts in applause, the wedding pulled together quickly to account for the babe in your belly. One time was all it took to get you pregnant…perhaps. Oberyn has indulged in his betrothed many times before today. Still, you are with child. His child. So it was best to have a swift wedding. “I love you.” He murmurs when he pulls back.

“I love you, husband.” You are beaming with pride as the two of you turn to face the people gathered. Your father’s eyes are less than pleased but he plasters a smile on his face for the sake of the occasion. “Now we have nothing to worry about.” You murmur softly, aware that the raven had been sent to Winterfell concerning your engagement to Oberyn. Rumor had it that Ned Stark had already secured another bride. Catelyn Tully would be a good match for him.

Oberyn grins, pleased at his new bride, and he guides you through the crowd to the private room reserved for you both during the celebrations. “My sun, you look gorgeous. Edible. A gift from the gods.” He leans forward to press his lips to yours, pushing the cloak off of your shoulders so he can grab your ass through your beautiful sun embroidered gown.

“Husband.” You moan, delighted at being able to use that title with Oberyn now. Since that night he had taken you to bed, you’ve discovered how much you enjoy touching him, fucking him. Learning how he likes to have his cock sucked and how he delights in having you act like the sexual creature you are and not hide your lust for him. “I need you inside me.” You whimper, reaching between you to cup his hardening cock beneath his robe. “Since there is no bedding ceremony, I want to dance with you dripping your seed.”

Oberyn hisses in delight at your words. So naughty and he knows he will want to lick it out of you later. Guiding you back towards the wall, he presses you against it and slides his hand under your gown, fingers quickly finding your clit. “Did getting married make you this wet, my sun? Did it turn you on becoming my wife?” He teases and kisses along your neck.

“Yes.” You pant, closing your eyes and moaning as he slides two fingers inside your wet cunt. “I am yours.” Those words were never more true than right now, reaching into his breeches and wrapping your fingers around to him slowly start pumping him just like he taught you. “Tonight- after other are asleep, I want to suck your cock while you are seated in the grand hall.” The wedding had been performed at Sunspear, the seat of power and Oberyn often acted in your father’s stead. You want to suck his cock while he sits on the Lord’s cushion and pleasure him.

“Naughty girl.” He teases and his cock twitches in your grip, “wanting to desecrate your father’s throne because you are so hungry for cock. I love it. I love you.” Oberyn growls, leaning closer to press his lips against yours. “Wanting to please your husband. It’s beautiful. I want to please you too but right now, I want to fuck you.” He withdraws his fingers, pulling your hand from his breeches and he pulls his cock out. Pressing you up against the wall even more, he gathers your gown and lifts your leg to notch on his hip. “Gonna make my bride cum.” He promises, pushing his cock into you with a low groan.”

Your head bumps back against the wall and you moan out his name. Your condition makes you eager and sensitive. “Oh fuck, Oberyn.” You whimper, looping your arms around his neck and grinding your pelvis down as he starts to move. “Fuck your wife,” you beg, loving how that sounds. “Please make me scream your name for all the guests to hear.”

The smirk on Oberyn’s face is wicked as he attempts to follow through on that challenge. “Yeah? My beautiful bride wants to cum so hard, she lets everyone out there know she’s no longer innocent? They will know tonight you’ve experienced a cock buried deep inside of you. They will know that I’ve spilled inside of you. Our babe shall be born early according to them but we will always know that my naughty wife wanted my cock before it was deemed appropriate.” He chuckles, kissing along your neck as his hips slam against yours.

You cry out, loving how wickedly he looks at things. It’s perfect, he’s perfect. Clinging to him while he drives into you over and over again. His mouth devours yours before he kisses along your throat and nips to make you gasp and clench around him. You know about the bastards he has, both girls. You can’t help but know about them since they live here. You love them as if they were your own. “Your next babe. Maybe a son.” You whimper when his cock pushes up against that sweet little spot inside you.

“My beautiful wife is going to provide me an heir? Fulfill her duty?” He hums. You know he hates the societal standards imposed but he is playful and you know he doesn’t care about a boy or a girl. He wants a healthy child. His fingers dig into your thigh, “a beautiful son. My beautiful wife gives me a son.” He muses with panting breaths. “I want my wife to cum. Squeal so loud they all know I am inside of you.”

It’s not hard to do, Oberyn is an amazing lover and you know you are lucky to have a man be concerned with your pleasure. “Obe-Oberyn!” You cry out as he cock continues to hammer against that spot over and over again until your toes are curling and you are squealing just like he ordered you to, your cum soaking his length and dripping down his thighs.

You squeezing his cunt has him groaning, kissing along your neck, and he thrusts a few more times before he buries his cock deep. Knowing you are his, his wife, the mother of his third child, has him cumming quickly. “Fuck.” He growls, painting your walls with his seed as he presses you further into the wall.

A few moments and lazy kisses later, Oberyn is pulling back, your leg lowering to the floor and your dress falling back into place. “Always so good.” You pant quietly, giving a small giggle of happiness as you catch sight of the beautiful gold ring he had put on your finger. The chain around your neck carries the symbol of the house Martell and declares you a princess. Which you had already been before, but now it is as a wife rather than an adoptive daughter.

****

“Push, princess!” The maester orders while your hand maids wipe your sweaty brow. The baby is coming, one more push and your baby is born. Yet Oberyn is nowhere to be found. No one has been able to alert him of the birth and the labors were quick despite this being your first. You scream as you bear down, feeling like you will pass out from the pressure and the pain but a cry fills the room and you chuckle in relief. The maester quickly inspects the babe. “You have a boy, princess.”

The women set about to help you deliver the afterbirth, the maester tying off the baby’s umbilical cord and cutting it before wrapping him in a soft cloth to hand him to you. “Is there any word of my husband?” You demand, looking down and immediately falling in love with his smooshed face and crown of dark hair. 

“No, my princess.” The young servant who will look after the babe as a wet nurse if you wish it, shakes her head, looking down. “None knows where he is.” 

You grunt, whimpering when the afterbirth passes and the women are still cleaning you as you start to move towards the edge of your birthing bed. “Dress me.” You demand, completely naked for the birth. “I will find him.”

“Princess. I- I wouldn’t recommend - you need to rest. Spend time with your baby.” Your hand maid tells you and you shake your head. 

“I have performed my duty. I wish to show my prince.” You grunt defiantly and the handmaids reluctantly dress you, trying to clean off the blood as you stand on shaking legs. 

“Princess. I do not recommend-” The maester tells you but you ignore him, sliding on your shoes as you shuffle down the hall.

It hurts, your stomach still cramping with the birth and every step feels like agony, your cunt swollen and sore from pushing out the Prince’s son. Blood runs down your legs but you ignore it. Your baby is in your arms and he squeaks and settles back down when you open your loose gown and offer him your breast. Having to stop in the middle of the hall to let him root around hungrily before he latches on. Your old rooms is your destination, having an idea that he might be there since you had been in the chamber you shared with your husband.

Oberyn groans as the man takes his cock into his mouth, the woman kissing along his chest and playfully nipping on his nipple. You’ve been distant lately, not wanting him due to your discomfort of carrying the baby inside of you and he has respected that, seeking his pleasure elsewhere. He’s been in this room for gods know how long, enjoying the man and woman he paid for. You are due any day so he is seeking his pleasures before he is a father for the third time. “Fuck.” Oberyn groans, head tilting back as the man takes him down his throat and the door is swung open.

Fury boils in your eyes when you see the man and woman naked in the bed with your husband. The man quickly pulls off Oberyn’s hard cock with a wet pop and the woman gasps at your appearance. Angry that he has not spoken to you about pleasure and needs, that he just decided to do this so selfishly, your heart breaks when you realize your husband missed the birth of his son, his heir, because of his cock. 

You straighten your spine, bringing you to your full height and shoot all three of them a withering glare. “My su-“ You cut Oberyn off. 

“You have a son, my Prince.” You manage with as much grace as you can possibly manage, sweat still rolling down your cheeks from where you left your birthing bed. “Congratulations.”  With your announcement made, you turn to start shuffling back to the rooms you have been living in with your husband.

Oberyn’s eyes widen and he scrambles to get off of the bed, reaching for his robes to dress and the man and woman watch him in confusion. “Coins are on the side.” He points at the chest of drawers and rushes down the hall, catching up with you when you are still stumbling down the hallway. “You shouldn’t be walking. My sun, you should be resting in bed.” He tuts, looking down at the babe who is suckling at your breast.

“I should be resting in bed, but I had to track my husband down.” You hiss, furious with Oberyn and he reaches for you. You jerk your arm away from him, unwilling to let him touch you with the stink of sex on him. “The servants could not find you when my time had come but they should have just followed the smell of whores.”

“You- you said you were fine with my extramarital activities.” He huffs, walking alongside you. 

“Yes but not when our son was being born.” You hiss and he shakes his head. 

“No one came to find me. I would have been there, my love, you know I would have. I didn’t - I didn’t know.” He argues and you shake your head. 

“No one could find you because you were in the whorehouses until you brought them back here. I know you know how to not be found. You should’ve checked in first.” You argue, hissing at the way your body aches. 

“Please, forgive me. I - we have a son.” He coos, looking at the baby.

“I have a son.” You are angry, disappointed and for the first time since you have been married, tears slide down your cheeks. “Go back to your pleasure, Oberyn.” You tell him hollowly. “There is none to be found here.”

Oberyn stops walking, watching as you waddle back to your chambers, and his heart breaks. He knows you need to have time to process this and he will give it to you. He knows you need to be alone and despite his desire to see his son, he walks back to your old room, deciding to write to Doran and announce the birth of his son and heir.

****

“Daughter, you need to give yourself time-“

You shake your head, your baby sleeping in your arms as you look down at the sleeping child. It has been a week since you have given birth and you have not seen Oberyn once in that time. “I have decided.” You murmur quietly, unwilling to see the disapproval in your father’s eyes. “I wish to go be with Elia. I- I need time away.” You blink back tears and shake your head. “You were right, father. He has broken my heart and I - I need to leave. Please, please send me to my aunt.” She was technically your sister in law as well, but you are begging him as his daughter and not as Oberyn’s wife.

Doran sighs, hating to see the hurt in your eyes and he wishes he could take it away but you created this. He knew his brother would break you eventually, he’d warned you, and you paid him no mind. “Very well. Go. I shall arrange for your transport. Do you wish to bid your husband goodbye before you leave?” Doran asks, wanting you to remain here in Dorne and not allow you in the grasp of the Lannisters.

You shake your head, having already packed your trunks before you ever left Sunspear because you would have hired a ship yourself if your father had not approved. “There is no need.” You straighten your spine despite your heartbreak and try to give your father an unconcerned smile. “No doubt Oberyn has not missed my presence and will have no need for drawn out goodbyes.” You feel slightly guilty for not allowing Oberyn to be around your son, but he had chosen to spend time with others rather than you, and your son was too small to be apart from you.

**** 

Oberyn growls as he opens another door, unable to find you or his son. When an unsuspecting servant walks past, Oberyn grabs them. “Where the fuck are my wife and son?” He demands to know and the servant shakes at the fury in his eyes. 

“They - they are gone, my prince.” He answers and Oberyn narrows his eyes. 

“Where the fuck have they gone?” He demands to know. 

“To - to King's Landing.” He answers and Oberyn slings him across the hall, making his way to Doran’s quarters. 

“You let my wife and son go into that fucking lion’s den?” He growls as he enters, no announcement other than the door slamming against the wall.

Doran looks up from the book he has been reading and sighs as he closes it. “I allowed my daughter, the princess, to go and assist her aunt with her children.” He tells his brother flatly. “To let her heal from the heartbreak of your actions.” He frowns in disapproval, knowing that Oberyn had left you to give birth alone and he was not happy with his younger brother.

“Heartbreak? She hasn’t - she hasn’t allowed me to properly meet my son. She has locked me out because I did what she knew I did. It’s not fair, brother, and now you have let her run away and to be in that cesspool with the Lannisters. It’s bad enough that you let Elia go there. Now I have to worry about my wife and son. Fuck.” Oberyn slams his fist against the wall, furious at himself for allowing this to happen, at Doran for allowing this to happen.

“Your wife suffered her birthing pains alone while you were fucking!” Doran roars, the book in his hand aimed at his brother’s head as he launches it at him. “What if she had died? Alone and calling for you? By all the gods old and new, you should think of something other than your cock!” Doran shakes his head, angry that the bastard had ducked the book. “You will not follow her.” He orders the headstrong brother. “Elia will soothe her heart and send her back when she is ready to forgive the hurt you have done.”

Oberyn glares at Doran, knowing that the order will be enforced if he tries to leave plus he knows you need time. He will write you a letter and have it sent to King's Landing, hoping you will soften and return home sooner rather than later. He hates not having you here where he knows you are safe. He loves you, he truly does, and he knows he has needs, you know this, but he shouldn't have let them interfere with his duty to you. With a sigh, Oberyn nods and makes his way back to his quarters to write his letter.

****

Tears burn your eyes and your throat is thick with emotion, eyes skimming across the ornate scrawl that Oberyn produces when he puts quill to paper. “My sun, my heart is heavy without you in Dorne, the sun in the sky does not shy as brightly as it does with your presence by my side.” You close your eyes and shake your head slightly, not wishing to say something out of bitterness as Elia rocks your son in her arms, listening as you read your husband’s letter aloud. “I was foolish, irresponsibly so and I regret that it caused you the pain and heartache you suffer. I wish to make amends. To have your smile brighten the halls of Sunspear and your laughter to ring out through the Water Gardens again.” You sigh, and lift the paper back up with a trembling hand. “Come home, my Princess. You told me that you wished to be in Dorne and she misses you. I miss you, my love.” You look over at Elia in exasperation. “Am I wrong? Should I have stayed?” You ask, knowing that she and Oberyn had been the closest out of all of them and needing her guidance. She has been a Godsend since your arrival in King’s Landing, even with the current turmoil that echoes in the palace halls.

Elia sighs, looking down at your son who has the same features as his father. “You did what you thought was right for you at the time. If I am honest, I think you should return home. You are needed there and I am certain you wish for this one to be raised in Dorne and not this…this hell.” Elia has confided that she loathes the Red Keep. It’s like a prison and she longs for the warmth of the Dornish sun. “You need to go home, my darling, but selfishly? I wish for you to stay. I barely speak to anyone here. My husband is away…the king loses more of himself every day and I long to keep our children safe…even from him. I wish you could stay but my brother needs you.” Elia smiles sadly.

“Come with me.” You reach out and take her hand, squeezing gently. “Dorne will love to have their princess back for a visit. It will do you good to visit with your brothers.” 

Elia shakes her head, “I have a duty to the people as their future queen. I cannot abandon them now. My darling, stay until the end of the week and then I shall arrange travel home for you. Besides, I still have to spoil my nephew rotten.” Elia grins, cooing down at the baby in her arms. “Write to Oberyn. Tell him you shall return home soon and give him hope. Absence makes the heart grow fonder so I am certain I shall have another nephew or niece to dote on by the time I visit Dorne once more.”

**** 

Screams awaken you in the middle of the night, jolting you from your sleep as you immediately reach for your son in his cradle. The sounds of clashing steel and fighting can be heard in the Bailey below your window and you panicked, throwing on your robe and bundling your son against your chest as you rush out the doors of your chamber to seek Elia. The news of the Baretheon rebellion has grown steadily dire and your ship is set to sail when the sun rises.

Servants scramble in the halls, pushing past you in their haste to flee the danger. Dread pools in your belly, hearing the screams grow louder as you race towards the chambers. They are here, the rebellion has reached the keep and they are coming for all who are in line for the iron throne.

Elia screams, her children clinging to her robes when you come into her chambers. “It’s only me. What’s happening?” You ask, terrified and the baby begins to cry in your arms. “Shhhh.” You coo, rocking him. 

“It’s the rebellion. They have breached the Red Keep. My - my - the King will be killed. I have to protect the children. Get into the armoire. With the children.” She orders you and her children. 

“Mama!” Her daughter cries but Elia cups her cheeks once you are all inside of the closet. 

“It will be alright, my love. Let’s be quiet. We need to be quiet.” She tells her children, looking over at you now that you have gotten your son to settle against your breast. Your heart pounds and you pray to the gods that you will be spared, that Elia and her children will be spared.

You know the chances of Elia and the children being spared if they kill the king are low, that you need to flee in the chaos. “Elia, we need to run. We can make it to the ship. Have them sail now.” You plead with her, knowing it will kill Oberyn and your father if something happens to their beloved sister or her children. “There is a passage.” You know of the secret tunnels. “Let us leave now!” 

“I cannot. They will find us in the halls. We are safer here. My darlings, it will be okay. Just let me - let me step out if anyone should come. I may be able to reason with-” The doors are slammed open to her chambers and you squeal, shaking as you wonder who has come in. Foe or friend. The armoire doors are swung open after several moments and you shriek when a mountain of a man grabs Elia by her arm, dragging her out of the wardrobe.

“Leave her alone!” You shout as you scramble out of the wardrobe and stand in front of Elia’s kids where they are huddled in the corner, clutching your son to your chest. “She is the crowned princess!” You are terrified, certain that all of you are going to die right here in these rooms. “Leave now!” You shout. “GUARDS!”

The Mountain shuts the doors and chuckles darkly, withdrawing his sword and you back your aunt and the children towards the window. “Get the fuck out of my way.” He growls, grabbing your arm and throwing you across the room. You grunt, curling your arms around your son, scared that he’s hurt and during that moment to assure yourself that your son is okay, the Mountain grabs Elia. You place your son in the armoire, safe as you rush back towards Elia, trying to protect her but the Mountain flings you across the room once more. “Please! Spare her! They haven’t done anything!” You plead and Elia screams for the guards once more.

You turn from your crumpled position on the ground to watch as Rhaenys, precious little Rhaenys, rushes towards the giant in armor, screaming and beating on his side. Too young to cause any harm to the man, but that doesn’t stop him from grabbing the little girl and lifting the toddler up high before flinging her against the wall. Making Elia scream and clutch Aegon to her chest. “No!” You scream, crawling towards the crumpled body of your niece, unmoving on the stone floor with her neck twisted at an off angle.

Elia cries out in anguish when you try to get Rhaenys to wake up but she’s gone, eyes open and glassy. The young boy - the future king - is clinging to Elia but the mountain grabs him, lifting him up by the neck and with a squeeze of his giant hand, he breaks the boy’s neck, making Elia scream in agony when the man flings the boy down beside his sister. You are shrieking, tears streaming down your cheeks as you look at the children and that’s when horror truly makes your blood run cold. 

The Mountain grabs Elia and what happens next makes you vomit. He violates her, raping her while he chokes her, strangling her until she is still and you are frozen. When he is done, he grabs his sword and you retch in horror when he slices her open, her glassy eyes turned towards you. You are shaking, certain that you are next when the mountain wipes his sword on the bed sheets. “I- please. Please.” You choke, begging for your own life and the Mountain walks right past you. 

“Return to Dorne, tell those fuckers what happened here. The Lannisters send their regards.”

The Red Keep has descended into complete chaos, screaming and steel clanging all around you. You bundle your son to your chest, hurrying as fast as you can. Bare feet slipping on the bloodied steps of the palace until you finally manage to escape from one of the side doors. Rushing towards the waterfront, towards the boat Elia had arranged for you to return to your husband. Your hands are bloody, the necklace she has been wearing in your hand and you are blinded by the tears as you sob in relief, seeing the swaying masts of the ship that will bear you back to Dorne.

****

The horse’s hooves attract the attention of the palace, the servants immediately approaching the messenger who swings off of his horse and rushes into the palace. When the doors open, Doran and Oberyn look up, both of them in the middle of discussing the harvest festival celebrations when the messenger approaches and hands the letter to Doran. 

Oberyn impatiently awaits his brother’s rendition of the letter but the prince pales. “Doran? What is it?” Oberyn frowns and Doran hands him the letter with a shaky hand. Oberyn frowns, taking the letter and his body goes cold when he reads the news that his sister, niece and nephew have been murdered by order of the Lannisters. Robert Baratheon is now king. “She - she’s - oh gods.” Oberyn wants to be sick and his blood boils at the murder of his family. “What about my wife? And my son? Did - there’s no news of them. Is she - is he -? Doran.” He stumbles as he stands up, “I need - I need to go to King's Landing. I need to find them.”

Doran feels sick, his heart breaking at the loss of his sister and her two babies. He knows their deaths had to have been cruel. Otherwise, why would they have put a two year old and one year old to death? “No.” 

Oberyn’s head snaps towards Doran and he grits his teeth furiously. “No?” He hisses. “My sister - her children are dead! My wife and son are there.” 

Doran shakes his head, knowing that if his brother goes to King’s Landing, he will start another war. “We will wait until there is more news.” He tells his brother. “We will have our maester send a raven to the citadel.”

“I cannot. I will not fucking sit here while my sun…she’s your daughter. Are you not worried? I cannot - I cannot just fucking sit here. If the Lannisters wish for war, I shall single handedly bring it to them. They will pay!” Oberyn roars, anger masking his pain.

“Now is the time for cooler heads.” Oberyn’s temperament has always been one to rush into battle when he is feeling provoked but now is not the time. “We must not make a mistake. For Dorne. I love my daughter and wish she were here safe and sound, but she is not.” He does not mention that it is because of Oberyn that you are not where you belong. “Elia’s body along with the children are being shipped back to Dorne.” He swallows thickly. “Now is the time we mourn.”

“You don’t want revenge? They killed Elia. Her children. We should be sending the fucking Dornish army to their door now. The Lannisters have concocted this scheme. We must retaliate. Now. Brother, please. Do not let them get away with it.” Oberyn pleads, needing the anger to distract him from the pain of not knowing your status.

“We would be sending our army to their deaths without proof.” Doran rationalizes. “I am angry. I am sad.” He swallows harshly and shakes his head. “Still, it is my duty to do what is best for Dorne, not just the Martells.”

“Fuck your duty. Fuck Dorne. This is our family and you, as usual, don’t do anything to avenge us. Doran, you - you disappoint me once again. I shall have my own revenge.” Oberyn promises and growls as he makes his way through the halls, staff avoiding him as he shoves open the doors to your chambers, burying his face in your pillow as he allows himself to cry, to mourn, and to pray that you and his son are safe.

****

“My Princess, we will be docking at Sunspear within the hour.” The nervous deck hand waits for you to turn your head, to give some clue that you have heard him, but you just stare at the city as it grows closer every second that ticks by. 

It has been a long week. One that you can recall every second of and none at all. A shadow of yourself as you cling to your son and try to banish the images of Elia and her children’s deaths from your mind. Still wearing your nightgown that you had been wearing when you fled the Red Keep, no women’s clothes on board and what little clothing they could spare was used for your son’s nappies. 

The spires of the palace loom in the distance and you wonder if Oberyn will blame you for not saving Elia, or maybe he will blame you for not dying with her.

When the horn sounds that the boat is docking with Elia and the children’s remains, Oberyn makes his way to the dock, wanting to see the caskets and he has been pulling his hair out for a week, trying to find word of your status. Whether you were alive or dead. He has to know. When he sees you stumble down the ramp of the boat, his eyes widen. “My sun!” He shouts, running towards you and he wraps you in his arms, the baby between you as he holds you close.

“Oberyn.” You gasp when you feel his arms around you, wanting to close your eyes and melt into his safe embrace but you cannot. “She’s dead, Oberyn. Elia- the kids, they are dead!” You sob, breaking down for the first time since that horrible night. “I- I could not stop him!”

“It’s okay, my love. It’s okay. You’re safe. You are both safe.” He feels relieved despite the fact that his sister is dead. He has you. He hasn’t lost you. “You’re alive.” He chokes, tears stinging in his eyes and he pulls back so he can cup your cheeks, looking into your eyes. “It’s okay. You couldn’t - there’s nothing you could do. It’s okay. You’re home.”

“I was- the baby- he lifted her and threw her against the wall-“ you babble in a near panic. “She- oh gods Oberyn, her neck- she was gone and then the sweet little one- he-“ your voice cracks. “They were gone and then he raped her! He raped her on the bodies of her children!” You shriek. “I couldn’t stop him! I couldn’t- he- he raped her and then he killed her like she was nothing!”

“Ssshhh.” Oberyn coos, bringing you into his chest, “it’s not your fault. You couldn’t do anything, my love. Let’s calm down and let me take you inside the palace. You need to be in your home.” He murmurs, kissing your hair and he leans back to look down at the baby. “Gods. He has grown.” Oberyn leans down to kiss his son’s head. Fury beats in his chest, but that will not help you heal right now, looking like you are about to expire on your feet. 

You don’t understand why he is not upset, why he is not furious with you. Your sobs give way to hiccups and you let Oberyn lead you away from the ship, the caskets containing the bodies of your family slowly being raised up from the hold to be transported to the castle. You step onto the hot sands of Dorne with your bare feet and you sigh softly, happy to feel it after what has happened.

Oberyn rubs your back as he guides you back into the palace, everyone looking at you since you are still wearing your nightdress. “Obbaron is safe. You are safe, my sun. The gods have answered my prayers.” Oberyn is relieved and he is sad but selfish, happy you are safe and home…finally.

In the palace, you are stripped out of your filthy and ragged nightgown and placed in a large, lovely bath. You refuse to let your son out of your sight, making the servant tut and disappear to tell on you to Oberyn. You can’t let him go right now. 

Oberyn heard of your insistence that Obbaron be in your arms in the bath and he makes his way to your chambers after he asked for some food to be sent to you. “My sun, let me take him while you bathe.” Oberyn says as he walks in, eager to see the son he barely got a chance to hold before you left for Kings Landing.

You hesitate, almost refusing but you know that Obbaron will be safe in his father’s arms. The servants have all disappeared, leaving the bathing room and you nod after a moment, letting Oberyn come and take your son from your arms. “Be careful.” You choke out before you can stop yourself, even though you know it is foolish. Watching the children being struck down in front of you has affected you, making you tear up again as you step into the large pool of water. Your husband has seen you naked before, even if he did not wish to see you that way anymore - you would not hide yourself.

Oberyn watches you get into the bath and he can’t believe how beautiful you are. Even when wrecked with grief, you are still the most gorgeous woman he has even seen. He rocks the baby, looking down at his beautiful son and he leans down to kiss his forehead, thanking the gods that you are both okay.

You groan as you sink into the water, relieved to be able to clean yourself again after a week on ship. It’s selfish, wanting something like this when your poor aunt will never take another breath. Making you close your eyes so you don’t cry again before you pick up the cake of perfumed soap to start scrubbing every inch of your body, needing to feel clean again.

“I’ve missed you.” Oberyn confesses, knowing that now he needs to be completely honest. Life is too short. He needs you. “I love you. So much. I’ve missed you every single day since you’ve been gone.” He admits, “and our beautiful son.” He looks down at Obbaron.

You snort softly, not disbelieving him completely but finding it hard to believe that he had spent the last months pining for you. “I am sure you found comfort somewhere.” You murmur softly, relaxing into the bath. “I cannot believe for a moment that my husband was celibate while I was gone.”

Oberyn snorts, “alas my cock could not get hard for anyone other than you during your absence. Perhaps your departure forced me to reconsider what is important to me and I know now that I cannot live without you. You are - you are my world and I refuse to live in a world where you do not exist. I was - if you were dead…” He trails off, unable to put the thoughts into words. “I love you. It’s always been you and I need you. More than even I thought possible.”

“You fucking other people did not upset me.” You tell him, your voice level and sure. You have had a lot of time to think about why you were so furious and heartbroken when you discovered Oberyn in your old chambers with others.  “If I had not been carrying Obbaron I might have joined in.”

Oberyn frowns, knowing you had discussed sharing your bed prior to your marriage, deciding to wait until after you had given birth. “You were upset that I chose to fuck over being by your side.” He states and you nod, knowing it seems foolish now. Most men do not come to their wife’s bedside during birth. “I do not wish to share a bed unless you are involved.” He tells you, knowing he made that decision as soon as the guilt hit him. He wants to be fully invested in this marriage and your pleasure is his pleasure.

You eye him in surprise, shocked that he would say that, but Oberyn seems sincere. Your heart melts slightly and you give a small nod. “I have missed you.” You confess. “Elia had- I was due to sail for Dorne just that next morning. To return to you.” It seems important that he knows you didn’t come home just because of the rebellion and his sister’s murder. You blink back tears and swallow heavily. “I wish I had been able to return like that. Simply because I wished to.”

Oberyn's heart aches, wishing that had been the case but it's not and his entire body yearns for vengeance. "Me too." He whispers, looking down at his son once more who has fallen asleep against his chest, exposed by the gapping in his robes. "My sun...I - I haven't slept. I haven't eaten. My worry that you -  I didn't know if you were alive or dead. It was destroying me to not know and yet I lived in fear of knowing in case you -" He chokes, unable to speak the words.

You shuffle to the edge, reaching for Oberyn and stroking his arm as he holds your son. “We are here, safe with you, where we belong.” Your eyes slide down to your sleeping son and you give a soft smile. “He is comfortable with you already, he knows his father.”

Oberyn smiles sadly, “you both should’ve been here the entire time. Not just - not just now. He should know his father. I don’t blame you for leaving, my sun, but I want you to know I missed you every single day you were gone. I love you. And him. I don’t wish to lose you again.”

It’s what you want to hear, all you wanted although you don’t wish to hold Oberyn in a cage. “I love you, my prince. I am willing to share you, as long as no one else comes before me.”

"For now, I wish to have my wife. Tonight, I want you. To worship you and show you how much I love you. Tomorrow, we mourn my sister and her children. In time, I will have my revenge but tonight, I want to make love to my wife." He declares, his dark eyes focused on you.

Guilt settling over you, you look away, knowing you need to be honest with your husband. You couldn’t have known that he had decided to be celibate since you had boarded a ship for King’s Landing. “I must confess something to you.” You whisper. “I have had several in my bed while I was at the Red Keep. All women.” You assure him. “I did not want to risk carrying another man’s child while I am married to you, but I found pleasure in others.”

Oberyn’s cock twitches as he thinks of you in bed with other women. He can’t blame you for it. You are doing what he did but you had left, decided to leave him and go to Elia. He cannot be angry with you. “My sun, I do not blame you for seeking pleasure. I wouldn’t have minded watching.” He chuckles before his smile falls, his eyes meeting yours. “Would you have come home? If Elia…would you have come home?”

“I was already coming home to you.” You give him a bittersweet smile. “Elia told me that selfishly she wished me to stay but that her brother needed me more than she did. Her last days were- they were as peaceful as they could be.” You assure him. “We talked of Dorne and she was making plans to come home for a visit.” You bite your lip. “I wish I had convinced her to come with me. To just leave a few days earlier.”

Oberyn swallows harshly, “it wasn’t your fault my love. It was - the Lannisters. They will pay. I vow they will pay. Elia…gods bless her soul…she was stubborn like all Martell’s so I doubt you could’ve done anything to make her leave. Do not blame yourself.”

You relax, happy that Oberyn does not blame you. You look at the babe in his arms and you wish that things are different but they are not. The only thing you can do is move forward. “Lay the baby in the cradle.” You urge him, suddenly in need of your husband. “Join me in the bath. I need to feel you.”

Oberyn nods, shifting to stand up now the baby is asleep and he gently places him in the cradle across the room before he works on removing his robes and breeches. Once he is naked, he strides over to the bathtub and you shift forward to allow him to get in behind you. As soon as he is in, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you back into his chest, groaning at the feel of you in his arms. Finally.

You moan softly, leaning back against his chest and closing your eyes. It’s the first time in over a week that you truly feel safe. Relaxing against him and letting the silence fall between you. There is much more that needs to be said, but right now you just want your husband to hold you. “I love you.” You whisper softly, knowing that it would always be that way. It would always be Oberyn.

Oberyn caresses your arms, kissing your neck and he sighs, “I love you too,” into your skin. He breathes you in, relieved to have you in his arms again and he caresses every inch he can touch, just wanting to feel you and reassure himself that you are here.

You feel his hands start to roam over your body. Caressing and squeezing you, reassuring himself that you are in his arms. Turning your head, your lips graze his jaw, pressing kisses to his thin line of a beard that frames his face. “I want you.” You murmur softly, already feeling the first pangs of arousal.

“Are you sure?” He murmurs, not wanting to push you if you aren’t ready. You’ve experienced horrors that men at war see and he doesn’t want to push you. He has lost so much, he can’t lose you too. He needs you to fucking breathe. “My sun, tell me what you want.”

“I want to feel alive.” You whimper, grabbing his hands and bringing them up to your still nursing breasts. He doesn’t squeeze harshly, but you moan when his thumbs brush over your hard nipples. “I want to banish the images in my mind and replace them with my husband fucking me.”

Oberyn understands what you mean. Some of his whoring ways are the result of the horrific memories of the battlefield. Nights spent with lovers distract from the things he had seen. “Tell me if you want me to stop.” He orders but kisses along your neck, his fingers plucking your nipples and your responsive moan has his cock twitching against your back.

“Yessss.” You moan and tilt your head back so that you are leaning against his shoulder. “Touch me Oberyn.” You beg, eyes slipping closed as you let him play your body like an instrument.

Oberyn caresses your chest, his lips tracing your neck and shoulders until his hands dip lower. Caressing your stomach that carried his child and he secretly wishes to see you round again, do it properly this time. His fingers dip lower, playing with the curls above your cunt until he finally, finally, presses his finger to your clit.

Gasping, your legs thrash in the water as Oberyn starts to rub your clit. Pressing firmly and stroking you just like you need as you groan in his arms. This is what you need, to be surrounded by him, his scent in your nose as you kiss his pulse. Mindless to everything but the way he is making you feel. “Yes, Oberyn, yess.” You pant softly.

He groans, kissing along your neck as his cock hardens against your back, his fingers rubbing your clit and he wants you to cum just like this. “I love you. My sun. My wife. My love.” He coos, “cum for me.” He murmurs, breathing you in after being apart for so long.

It doesn’t take long, just a few more minutes of his magical fingers against your clit and you are crying out. Shuddering against him while he pushes you through pleasure until your chest is heaving and you are breathless. “Inside me.” You push his hand away and turn over, wanting to ride your husband in the bath. “Need you inside me.”

His hands immediately grip your hips, dragging you close so you are hovering over him and his lips immediately around your nipple, biting and sucking while he reaches down to position himself at your entrance. “Ride my cock. I want you to make yourself cum.” He orders, cupping your cheek while he kisses up your chest.

The only thing he is wearing is his chain with the family crest. Wrapping it up on your fist, you sink down onto his cock with a moan. All the fingers in the world will never feel as good as his cock. “Fuck, Oberyn.”

He watches you, dark eyes getting even darker as he watches you sink down onto his cock, your silk walls gripping him like no one else can. You’re gorgeous and his wife. “Fuck, my love. You always feel so good. Such a tight little cunt.” He coos, gripping your chin to make you look at him.

He is the only man you have let in your body and he knows it better than anyone. His cock spearing up into your deliciously and you clench around him at the lust in his eyes. “Your cunt.” You promise, grinding down onto him and swiveling your hips to make you moan. “Fill me up Oberyn.” You plead softly, looking into his dark eyes that are reflective in the child you made together. “I want to feel you for days.”

He growls, suddenly feeling desperate after he could’ve lost you from his own stupidity. His arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you against him, his cock thrusting up into you to make the water spill off the sides of the tub. “Should have never let you go. Should’ve worshiped you so you didn’t leave.” He murmurs against your mouth.

Whimpering, you turn into his kiss, sliding your tongue into his mouth and your hand curls around the back of his neck. Moaning every time he thrusts up into you, it becomes a symphony of mewls and panted breaths as he rocks his hips up frantically.

Your breath mingles with his and his hands are everywhere, sliding down to squeeze your ass, pulling you into him to help you rock on his cock as he thrusts up into you. “Gods, I love you.” He groans, his lips attached to your neck and he sucks to leave a bruise beneath the skin.

“I love you.” You pant, closing your eyes and tangling your fingers into his hair as you rock up and down on his length. Rolling your hips faster as need builds and you know that you’re going to cum soon. “Please- oh fuck, I’m so close.”

Oberyn immediately presses his fingers to your clit, rubbing it harshly while he leans closer to press his lips to yours. “Cum for me, my sun.” He orders against your mouth, his cock twitching inside of you as his own orgasm nears.

It’s so good, blinding pleasure crashes over you as you buck in his arms. Gasping and crying out when your walls clamp down around him as you soak his already wet cock with a torrent of your juices, barely able to rock on him as your thighs shake.

Oberyn’s fingers dig deep into your ass, working you on his cock while he seeks his own climax. Your walls flutter around his cock, gripping him, and he hisses when you lean forward to bite down on his jaw. “Cum.” You plead and it sends him over the edge. His cock buried deep as he thrusts up into you, painting your walls with his hot seed.

You whine at the heat flooding your womb, leaning in and kissing him gently. “I love you so much.” You promise, pressing your lips to his between words. “My prince, my husband.”

“My princess. My world.” He vows, pulling you close and you giggle at the water that splashed onto the floor. “Leave it. It will be dried.” He tells you and kisses your nose then your forehead. “I - I shall thank the gods you have returned to me.”

****

“You are lovely.” You look in the mirror at the beautiful woman that had been assigned to be your handmaid while you are going through your second pregnancy. “What is your name?” Her fingers are still where they are braiding your hair and her dark, kohl lined eyes look up to meet yours. You know her name, but you wish to talk candidly and to ask questions is the obvious choice to begin. To show interest. 

“Ellaria, my princess.” The woman smiles, her expression is soft and you instantly feel attracted to her. 

“A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” You coo and Ellaria flusters. You take her hand and bring it to your lips, kissing her palm and she inhales sharply. 

“Not as beautiful as you, my princess.” She responds breathlessly.

She is perfect for your bed. You haven’t missed the way that Oberyn’s gaze followed her when she was introduced and you find her most attractive. “Tell me Ellaria,” you turn and look her in the eyes. “How would you feel about joining Oberyn and I in our chambers tonight?” You ask, smirking slightly at the idea of surprising your husband.

Ellaria’s eyes widen but she smirks, after a moment. “I would be honored to join you and the prince, my princess.” She answers, her fingers caressing your neck and shoulders and you shiver in delight. She finishes your hairstyle and leans down to kiss your cheek. “I shall count the moments until I can be in your bed.” She murmurs and you turn your head to press your lips to hers, wanting to kiss her before tonight. You are impatient.

Her lips are soft, sweet as you reach up and cup her cheek. Deepening the kiss and sliding your tongue into Ellaria’s mouth, you push up to your feet so you can stand with her and hold onto her hips as she starts to kiss you back.

Ellaria caresses your back, her tongue sliding against yours when the doors open and Oberyn strides in. His eyebrows raise and he chuckles. “Looks like my princess is being well looked after.” He grins and slides up behind you, kissing your neck. “Have you asked her, my sun?” He murmurs in your ear, his hands gripping your waist.

You pout slightly that your plans have been ruined but you turn and press your lips to his when you break the kiss from Ellaria. “I had hoped to surprise you.” You huff slightly, nodding and turning back to the servant with a smile. “As you can tell, both the prince and I are eager for you to join us.”

Ellaria flusters, a smile on her face as she leans back to look at you and your husband. “Please let me pleasure you both. I want to please my prince and princess.” 

Oberyn smirks, reaching out to cup her cheek, “let us pleasure the princess. She is carrying my child and I am certain that your tongue on her clit would help her relax.”

You moan at the idea and nod, biting your lip. “Why don’t you show Ellaria how wonderful your cock is while she devours my cunt?” You suggest. “I know you have not been able to fuck me as hard as you wish and I think our girl will enjoy screaming your name.”

Oberyn’s cock twitches at the thought. You’ve already discussed him fucking others and you have given your permission for him to cum inside the ones you like. Ellaria was included in that consent. “Strip my beautiful wife out of her robes before you follow suit and show me how beautiful the female form can be. I want to worship at the altar of two gorgeous cunts.” Oberyn coos as he begins to strip off his own clothes.

You give a small, excited giggle as Ellaria moans quietly and you let her guide you toward the large round bed. “He’s got a wonderful cock and his fingers are magical.” You promise her while she pulls at the thin ties of your robes to pull them off your rounded body.

Her hands are deft, quickly undressing you and her hands caress your bump for a moment before she begins to remove her own clothes. When she’s naked, you turn back towards your husband. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she? A true Dornish gem.” You coo, reaching out to cup her breast and Oberyn loves seeing you so free. “She’s perfect for us. Ellaria, lay my princess down and suck on her sore tits while I push my fingers inside of your cunt.”

It takes you a moment to get comfortable but soon you are on your back and Ellaria’s lips are pressed to your skin, kissing up your side before she wraps her lips around your nipple. “Oh!” Your back arches and you cry out in pleasure, your breasts so sensitive since your pregnancy. “Fuck, Oberyn, make her feel-feel good.” You order your husband as he kneels on the bed behind her.

Oberyn groans at the sight of Ellaria bent over as she sucks on your tits and that makes him eager to lean down and slide his tongue through her folds, making her moan out in delight around your breast. You caress her side, eyes closed as you enjoy her hot mouth and you can hear your husband’s tongue diving into her cunt.

The sounds of pleasure fill your chambers, licking and sucking accompanying muffled moans. Your fingers stroke Ellaria’s cheek and through her hair while she sucks in your breasts. “How does she taste?” You ask Oberyn, knowing that she must be delicious, kissing her had been wonderful. “My sun, she is tangy and sweet like your favorite Dornish wine.” Oberyn praises as he lifts his head to wink at you over her shoulder. “When you taste her, you will hate to pull away.”

You grin, “I can’t wait. My handmaid shall be spoiled by us. Her cunt will never be without pleasure.” You promise and Ellaria moans, kissing down your stomach, over your bump until she is between your thighs. Oberyn shifts to accommodate her and he kneels behind Ellaria, knowing she’s wet enough to take him so when her tongue slides through your folds, he pushes into her with a deep groan.

Her moan makes your entire core clench. Vibrating through you wonderfully and your fingers tangle in her hair, your eyes watching your husband’s face as she obviously clenches around him. He looks gorgeously wrecked and you don’t feel jealous, instead you are eager for him to rock into her. Ellaria’s tongue slides through your folds and flicks against your clit.

“How does her tongue feel, my love?” Oberyn asks, his hands gripping Ellaria’s waist as he rocks into her a little harder, sending her tongue deeper into your cunt. “Incredible.” You sigh, shifting to look down at Ellaria as her face is buried in your cunt and you look up to meet the eyes of your husband. “Fuck, you look gorgeous, my sun.”

The three of you work closer to orgasm together. Moaning when Oberyn thrusts into your handmaid and pushes her tongue deeper inside your cunt. You rock your hips up to meet her eager tongue and your hands cup your breasts, toying with your nipples.

Oberyn wants you to cum and Ellaria to cum before he does. Reaching over your handmaid, he presses his thumb to your clit while Ellaria’s tongue dives deep. “Cum for us, my sun.” He orders, his dark eyes meeting yours.

Your eyes slip closed and you cry out, your thighs pressing against Ellaria’s head while you come apart. Heedless to everything but your pleasure as she licks into you.

Ellaria works you through it, her head knocking against Oberyn’s hand until his thumb finds her clit, rubbing it to push her over the edge when his cock twitches inside of her, his orgasm nearing. “Cum for us, sweetness.” He coos, bending over to kiss her shoulder.

You can tell the second she starts to cum. Oberyn gently bites her shoulder and her entire body stiffens. Crying out loudly, it’s the sweetest sound you have heard mixed with Oberyn’s groan. He rocks into her faster, his hips slamming against her ass he fucks her through her high and chases his own. “Cum baby.” You order Oberyn. “Fill her up. I want to see your seed drip from her gorgeous cunt.”

Oberyn clenches his jaw, sweat beading on his brow as he rocks into Ellaria, her cunt dripping from her orgasm and it only takes a few thrusts before he is cumming, painting her walls with his seed. “Fuck.” He pants, eyes closed until he forces himself to look at you, see your expression as his cock pulses inside of your handmaid.

You smirk as you watch the two of them. Reaching out and caressing her cheek where her chin is resting on your hip. “Beautiful.” You coo softly, watching Oberyn as he watches you. “How was your first experience with the Prince?” You ask her curiously.

“Exquisite, my princess.” Ellaria declares breathlessly. 

“Good. I would like you to share our bed. I will require pleasure in the lead up to birth and my husband shall require a beautiful cunt to lose himself in. Would you be interested in being that woman?” Oberyn smirks at your question, pleased to see how you own your pleasure now without embarrassment or hesitancy.

Ellaria’s eyes widen and she twists, looking back and forth between you and Oberyn, who just pulled out of her cunt and moves to settle down beside you and strokes your stomach. He arches an eyebrow at her with a smirk and she flusters. She had been days away from seeking out the brothels to work before she had been brought to the palace to be your handmaid.  Now she was being presented with something beyond her wildest dreams. “I do not know what to say.” She admits quietly and you don’t want to push her, but you want her to say yes. “It is thrilling to know that you would want me that way, but if you should grow bored?” She doesn’t want to be on the streets again, worrying about what food will fill her belly. 

“If that day ever comes, you would still have a place in our household.” You look over at Oberyn who nods seriously.

Ellaria bites her lip, looking at you and the prince, and it’s easy to make her decision. “Very well. I would be honored to be in your bed every night. Whatever you wish of me, it is yours.” Ellaria promises and you shake your head. 

“Only what you wish, too. We will not force you to do something you do not wish to do. We are all about pleasure, aren’t we my love?” You coo at Oberyn, caressing his chest and he nods. 

“Very much so. I only want pleasure. No pain.” He murmurs, his eyes meeting yours and he swears he falls for you again, unable to believe this strong woman is his wife. It’s incredible to watch after knowing you as a shy young woman.

You smile at Oberyn, unable to resist kissing him again before you reach for Ellaria. “Only pleasure. And you will be treated with respect.” You promise her, unwilling to tolerate anything else. “The prince will simply have a princess and a paramour who he can have together without there being any harsh words.”

Ellaria nods, grinning as she cannot believe how lucky she is to be able to share a bed with the prince and princess. Her birth into poverty has not held her back and she is determined to ensure she remains by your side for a long time, pleasuring you and serving you as your handmaid. “Let us wash up and we shall get some food. I want some berries then I want to fuck my wife while she makes her beautiful handmaid cum with her tongue.” Oberyn smirks, eager to fuck again.

****

“You look exquisite, my love.” You coo, reaching up and caressing Ellaria’s cheek before you adjust one of her braids. “Perfectly matched and stunning.” The deep plunging V of her dress is shocking for the women of the North, but it matches the low neckline and high slits in the skirts of your own dress. Both of you dressed to accompany Oberyn to the wedding of Joffrey.

“You are anxious, my love.” Ellaria coos, walking over to Oberyn whose back is tense as he looks out of the window to the streets of Flea Bottom. “I hate being here. With those bastards that killed my darling sister. I yearn for blood.” He growls, tensing when Ellaria’s hand touches his back.

You had refused to stay in the Red Keep, not wanting to return to the very rooms that Elia had been killed in before your eyes. Despite the years that have passed, you feel as strongly as Oberyn. You join the two of them and lean over to kiss your husband's cheek on the other side of him so that both of you flank him. “They will pay. The Lannisters may have dealt us a blow, but we will make sure their house is ground to dust and forgotten.”

Oberyn clenches his jaw, nodding in response and he hisses when he imagines getting his revenge finally. It’s been years since Elia was killed but he’s desperate for vengeance. “The Lannisters…I will kill every last one of them.” He vows and turns his head to press his lips to yours. He grabs Ellaria, dragging her closer so she can press her lips to yours too, the three of you entangled. 

You moan into the kiss, your hand on your lover’s hip. Both of you will need to keep Oberyn calm and keep him from acting rashly. He was hot headed sometimes but with both of you by his side, he can be reasoned with. Together, all three of you will raze the house of golden lions to the ground.

****

The wedding was boring like all royal weddings, lengthy and tedious but when you attend the reception, Oberyn is eager to sip the wine and feast on the berries Ellaria is feeding him. You can feel eyes on you, so many are unused to seeing a prince and princess with a paramour in King's Landing where lovers remain banished to the shadows. “Lover, shall we take a stroll?” You ask Ellaria, wanting Oberyn to have a moment with the young knight who is eying him from across the way. Perhaps tonight, another shall join you in your chambers.

Smirking, you nod and lean over to press your lips to Oberyn’s lips before you stand. Moving over beside Ellaria, you link your arm through hers happily and pick up your goblet to carry with you. You had specially asked for watered down wine discreetly, not wanting Oberyn to worry about your secret for now. “Let us go make scandalous conversation with the noble ladies here.” You tease with a joyous smirk. They would not dare insult you to your face as the princess of Dorne.

Ellaria grins, happy to be beside you and support you during this time of torment, the dreaded capital, and the Lannisters. “I didn’t know the Dornish were so accommodating to their whores.” Cersei approaches and you stiffen your back, staring at the queen. 

“I didn’t know the Lannisters were so accommodating to murderers.” You counter, glancing over at the Mountain who is striding past, watching over the king. 

“My princess. Come, let us walk. You do not need the stress.” Ellaria says, caressing your arm and you glare at the queen before Oberyn joins you, wrapping his arm around your waist, his own jaw clenched. “Cersei. The queen mother as you are now.” He quips, narrowing his eyes when Tywin approaches behind his daughter.

Cersei’s eyes narrow back at Oberyn before she plasters a fake smile on her face. “Tell me,” she hums, turning towards you, “how do you stand the whispers as you walk around merrily with your husband’s whore. She’s birthed four? It’s it four? Bastards?”

Oberyn narrows his eyes before he chuckles, looking up at Tywin. “I suppose four bastards are better than keeping it in the family, isn’t that right, Lord Tywin?” He quips, making Cersei’s smile drop. 

Tywin is cool as he responds, “you should know all about that, marrying your niece after all.” Oberyn’s hand twitches with the urge to stab the older man but your grip on his other arm has him pausing.

You give Tywin a smile that tinges on acidic. “While I might have been the Prince’s niece by marriage, at least we can be sure that there is no common blood.” You tsk and shake your head before you glance at his daughter. “It is a wonder that the King and all the Baratheon children inherited the golden locks of the Lannisters. Almost as if dear Robert’s seed was impotent.”

Cersei hisses through her teeth and the urge to slap you is great but people are watching so she maintains her composure. "Lannisters just have stronger characteristics." She counters, "but my late husband adored the golden locks of our children." She declares expertly and Oberyn scoffs. 

"Perhaps those characteristics are best left in this generation. Your son has chosen a bride with whom he shares no blood relation...a blessing for the kingdoms." Oberyn stabs, making Tywin clench his jaw.

“Indeed.” You smirk as you lift your cup to your lips, nodding at the queen mother as you take a small sip. Grimacing slightly at the bitterness of the wine. “Pity that the king's wedding did not merit casks of good wine to be opened.” You cough, shaking your head slightly.

Ellaria frowns, watching you cough more and Oberyn grows concerned when you start to wheeze. "What - what is happening?" He cries, "my love. Breathe!" He orders, slapping you on the back but you continue to choke, your face contorted. "Maester. Someone get a maester. She - she is with child!" Oberyn shouts, growing more panicked by the second.

Clawing at your throat, you hear the panic and commotion around you, the cruel ring of Joffrey’s laugh as you struggle to breathe. “Dornish bitches cannot handle good wine.” He scoffs, black dots appearing in your vision as you vaguely watch as he swipes his own goblet up and takes a large gulp, as if to prove he is superior.

Oberyn catches you as you collapse, his heart pounding and he tries to tell you to breathe. He begs you to breathe but you rasp and soon enough, you go still. Oberyn shakes you, “please my love. Wake up. Breathe.” He pleads as your glassy eyes stare at him, blood dripping from your mouth and his following roar of anguish can be heard across to Flea Bottom.

Joffrey starts to sputter and choke, drawing attention away from your prone form. Grasping his throat and turning purple as he tries to breathe. Making the smirk on Cersei’s face fall as she screams, rushing from her spot standing over you to where the king has collapsed.

Oberyn doesn't give a fuck that the king is suffering the same fate. His body cradles yours as he wails in agony of losing you. You are the sun in his sky, the air he breathes. He chokes, "please, my sun, come back to me." He begs and Ellaria is kneeling beside him, cupping your cheek as she begs you to wake up too.

**** 

“Please, my love.” Ellaria reaches for Oberyn’s arm, trying to gently coax him away from your body. “The maester needs to close the casket so it can be loaded up onto the ship.” Her red-rimmed eyes speaks of her anguish and heartbreak as she looks down at your still form. “She wants to go home, to be buried in the sands of Dorne.”

Oberyn can’t tear himself away from you. The grief weighs him down every single step he takes. His vengeance threatens to overwhelm him but he knows he cannot risk Ellaria. He has already lost so much. He has to return home and then form a plan for his revenge. Perhaps he can meet the Targaryen he has heard whispers about, assist her with her fight for the Iron Throne. “I love you, my sun.” He whispers, leaning down to kiss your lips before he allows the maester to close the casket. “What shall we do without her, Ellaria? She is - was my entire sun. Now my days are dark.”

“We will go back and hug your babies.” Ellaria whispers softly. She knows that Oberyn loves her, just like you had loved her, but there was a special bond between you and the prince. “And plot our vengeance.”

“The baby.” Oberyn chokes, “she was - she was with child again.” He swallows harshly, barely processing how much he has lost. The love of his life and a child. His other children, twelve in total, are safe in Dorne but he mourns his loss. “I - I am not sure I can live without her. How are you- you appear to be stronger than me.”

Ellaria shakes her head. “No, I am weeping on the inside but I know she would want me to be strong for you.” She murmurs, staring at the casket as the Dornish soldiers had traveled here with you, start to carry your casket to the ship. “She had not announced she was pregnant yet, how did you know?”

Oberyn smiles wistfully, “I know her. Her breasts were sore and she came quicker than normal. She couldn’t hide it from me. I knew she was with child.” He chokes, tears in his eyes as he looks at his lover, your lover. “Let us get on this ship before I do something stupid like rush into the Red Keep and slay every Lannister I see.”

Ellaria wraps her arm around Oberyn’s waist and the two of them lead a mournful procession of Dornish soldiers as they trail behind the cart loaded down with your body.

Once they are on board, the casket is laid in place and Oberyn walks over to run his fingers along the wood. He will ensure you have a proper casket when you return to Dorne. He leans down to press a kiss where your face would be when he hears the pounding. “Gods.” He frowns, “Ellaria. Come here. Do you - can you hear that?” He asks, wondering if it’s his imagination

Sobbing, you beat against the box you are in. This was not supposed to have happened. Waking up in darkness with little room to move, you had cried out until your sore voice had given way. Certain that you are in hell and that the gods are punishing you as you continue to try to get someone’s attention. The noise of the cart and horses, the docks and the men are loud, muffling your cries for help. “I’m alive!” You scream, your voice cracking. “Open it! I’m alive in here!” 

Ellaria’s eyes widen. “She’s awake! My prince, she’s awake!” 

Oberyn’s eyes widen back and he waves over the guards. “Open this fucking casket now! Now!” He demands and the men rush over. They all work to pry open the box and when the lid is removed, Oberyn inhales sharply when he sees your beautiful eyes meeting his, wincing from the light. “Oh my sun. You’re alive.” Oberyn reaches out to grab you, lifting you out of the casket and into his arms, his lips kissing you all over as he sobs in relief that you are alive.

You gasp in the sweet fresh air of the docks, salty and clean. Squinting your eyes against the harsh sunlight, you feel Oberyn’s arms around you and his prayerful kisses in relief. It hadn’t been supposed to happen this way and it chills you to think that you could have been locked in that box until there was no air. You couldn’t warn Oberyn, not if it had to be believable. “It worked.” You hadn’t expected to be out for as long as you were, but you hadn’t died and that was all that mattered. 

“You - you were dead. Poisoned. I- fuck- we thought we had lost you.” Ellaria comes to kneel down, wrapping her arms around you and Oberyn, her own tears wetting your gown. “You’re alive. My princess. We thought -” She chokes and Oberyn kisses your forehead. “We thought you were dead. I’m so sorry, my love. We shouldn’t - the Maester declared that you were dead.”

You reach up and caress Oberyn’s face, turning to kiss Ellaria gently. “It is okay, my loves. You did not know.” You assure them, turning and kissing Oberyn fiercely. “Tell me that it worked.” You can see his brow knit together in confusion. Looking around and lowering your voice, you whisper, “tell me a Lannister is dead. Their cups were poisoned.” 

Oberyn frowns, wondering what you mean until he remembers the death of Joffrey. “My love. Joffrey…he’s dead.” He declares, “he’s dead and he - you - you took the same wine to poison it? What if - it could’ve killed you. I thought it did.” He chokes, pressing his forehead against yours. “Why did you do that?” He demands to know, not wanting to believe that you did something so stupid yet so genius.

“To avenge my dear Elia, to repay them for the anguish that they have brought to our family.” You give a small giggle, pleased that you had taken out the king - the one that would hurt their egos and house the most. “Forgive me for not telling you.” You beg, looking from Oberyn to Ellaria. “I knew you would not let me go through with it if you knew. My plan was to drink only a little and get sick so there were no doubts cast on our house. I have been exposing myself to the poison over the last few weeks to build up a tolerance.” 

Oberyn pulls you even closer, “you silly woman. What - the baby - you aren’t - you aren’t with child?” He asks, confusion on his face as he wonders why you’ve been so off lately. You’ve been a genius, seeking revenge in a way that no one would know but he prays you are okay after the maester inspects you.

You shake your head gently and reach out to cup his cheek. “I would never put your child in danger.” You promise him. “My symptoms were because of the poison and the antidote I was using.” You explain. “I am sorry I worried you. I was hoping more of those bastards would drink. But at least we can know we took her son from her and her daughter prefers living in Dorne.”

Oberyn kisses your forehead, relieved that you are okay. “Do not fret, my love. We will ensure you are with child soon enough.” He chuckles, “I am just relieved you are well. I could not live without my sun. Gods…I adore you.” He vows, cupping your cheeks as he presses his lips to yours, sweet and chaste in a reminder that you are okay.

You smile, reaching out to cup your husband’s cheek and you reach out to take Ellaria’s hand with your free one. “I love you.” You murmur to them both. “They have learned that Lannisters are not the only ones who pay their debts.”

Oberyn kisses your forehead. “No, the Martells get their revenge.” He responds, unable to believe he’s married to such a formidable woman. He could never live without you, ever. You are everything to him. You always have been. You are the light of his life. His sun.

[mrsbrekkers]

𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐒

🕊.⋆｡ what is this? me posting? that's c r a z y. long story short, my ibf convinced me to finish the first ever smut i started last year and left. now i have finished it!

with this though, my blog is now 18+! if you are under said age, please either escort yourself stage left, or don't comment about it. i cannot control your internet intake, but that doesn't mean i should know about it!

also, be nice about this because it is my first smut so ya. i am pretty proud though!

anywho!

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ; oberyn martell x ellaria sand x you [ no use of y/n ] 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ; smut! light choking + degradation. fingering f!receiving. uses of pet names [ dove, sweetling, lover ]. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ; 1364 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ; a beautiful sunset seems to be the perfect time for a warm bath, and maybe some fun with your dornish paramours :)

SMUT UNDER CUT!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Soft, dimming rays of the setting sun laid against the warm yellow curtains, a cool breeze brushing through the otherwise still air. A sense of quiet had enveloped the oncoming night, and you stood, enjoying the dornish sunset. Many claimed the sunsets in Dorne were among the most beautiful one could witness, and while you’d never believed it before; you certainly did now. The colors blended into a beautifully painted picture, almost amplifying the colors of the gardens below your balcony. A soft voice came from behind you, a handmaiden parting the curtains. “Your bath has been drawn, my lady.”

“Thank you, Sanira. If you could so kindly summon the prince and his paramour. Then you can retire for the night,” you said kindly, watching as Sanira turned and scurried to find who you’d requested.

Moving through the parted curtains, your fingertips followed the moving curtains, pulling them closed once more. Your soft steps followed to the bed, covered in red and the warmest of yellows, contrasting each other in an exquisite manner. Quietly, you sat, wine cup in hand as you thought of the night ahead of you. Memories leading up to tonight were vivid in your memory, demanding they be seen.

A knock came at the door, followed by the sound of quiet footsteps, but you knew those footsteps anywhere. “Oberyn, Ellaria,” you spoke smoothly, looking up at the two.

“Little dove,” Ellaria spoke first, her voice velvety as she took your free hand, pulling you lightly up to your feet. Her lips were against the skin of your ear in seconds, her fingers dancing around your waist, gently pulling apart the strings of your dress.

“Mhm?” You softly hummed, your eyes gliding over to Oberyn, who had been uncharacteristically quiet since entering the room. His fingers, though, slid the sleeves of your dress down your arms, his hands like silk against your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“We’ve been waiting for your summonings all night,” Oberyn spoke, watching the dress pool against the marble floors of the room. There was his voice, pulling you in effortlessly. You craved them both, but you knew that their hands wouldn’t travel any lower until you were seated in the steaming water of your bath.

Retracting from the both of them, your feet carried you over to the bath. The steam had surrounded the room despite the curtains allowing in the cool air of the night. It made it almost hard to breathe, and the sight of the two moments prior already caused most of the air to leave your throat.

Your eyes landed on two hands that extended, taking hold of them and stepping into the searing water. Lightly, your eyes fluttered, a hushed moan of satisfaction leaving your lips. “Dove, we haven’t even begun,” Oberyn teased, his fingers coming down to tilt your head up towards him.

“Don’t tease,” You attempted to speak, but the words came out almost incomprehensible as you descended fully into the water. The aches in your body screamed at you in delight, causing yet another slurred moan to leave your lips unwillingly.

“She’s had a long day, lover, let us only pleasure her,” a more feminine voice called to Oberyn, Ellaria now sitting in front of the tub, her fingers tracing small patterns on your skin. Your head lolled onto Ellaria’s shoulder, basking in her scent of marigolds and lilies. Tantalizing fingers then danced down your body, disappearing under the warm water.

Being unable to see Ellaria’s fingers only enhanced the feeling of them as they glided down your stomach and thighs before they finally made contact with your core, a sharp gasp falling from your lips. You’d been with the two dozens of times, but this time felt different. More intimate, and that feeling was only enhanced as Oberyn’s hand made contact with your throat, his lips meeting your own in a slow kiss.

With Oberyn’s lips on yours, you were unable to verbally react as Ellaria reached your clit, her thumb carefully beginning to work it. She knew how delicate of a process this was. How important it was to build pleasure, and oh was she an expert at it. Her thumb circled your clit, the feeling causing your pace in the kiss you shared with Oberyn to stutter. Still, you managed for the time being, enjoying the gentle pleasure that coursed through your body.

“Look at her, Oberyn,” Ellaria whispered, pulling Oberyn from your lips, his hand still resting against your throat. A silent, but intimate reminder. You felt vulnerable under his gaze, but were unable to think much of it when Ellaria pressed a finger into you, causing your back to arch slightly and a surprised moan to sound through the room, this one being much louder than your previous ones.

You couldn’t pay much mind to what Oberyn responded with, only briefly being able to make out the word ‘heavenly’ as Ellaria’s thumb began to circle your clit faster with some added pressure. You began to think maybe having the bath drawn wasn’t such a brilliant idea, because your thighs had already started to shake. “Ellaria-” your words failed you, the pleasure that coursed through you building slowly, but surely, making a promise of a deliciously warm end.

“Go on, our sweet dove, tell us what you need,” Oberyn’s voice broke through your foggy mind, his own fingers giving a gentle, barely there squeeze to your throat. The euphoric sensation that made its way through your senses caused your eyes to flutter shut. Ellaria thought this the perfect moment to add another finger, both of them curling inside you to press against that spot inside of you. The moment she did, you clenched around her fingers and managed to speak, “That! Ellaria, please…” and what was Ellaria to do other than repeat the same motion with her fingers when you sounded so pretty. Though after her repeated motion, she began to slide her fingers in and out of you, yet another moan being pulled from you.

“So needy and desperate when her fingers are inside of you,” Oberyn teased, your cheeks tinting with a rosy blush. You didn’t try to deny his words though, knowing they were all too true. Ellaria seemed to know exactly what made you tick. What would wind you up so efficiently. It didn’t help that she was dangerously good with her fingers. By now, you’d lost count of the number of times they’d been inside of you, but you did know without fail, they’d bring you to climax. Now was no exception as her thumb pressed just slightly more into your clit, the pressure and build to it perfect. Your mouth hung open, your breathing hitching, and that reaction was all Ellaria needed to know you were close. The way you were clenching her fingers was sign enough, but your expressions were what she desired to see most.

She took those moments to speed the pace of her fingers up, catching you off guard. You tossed your head to the side, eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure that’d been building seemed to sneak up on you. You could’ve sworn her fingers had just begun working you, and now you were on the verge of cumming hard around them.

“Ellaria-”

“We know, sweetling. Cum around my fingers, wanna feel you,” her voice was like silk, guiding you into your orgasm so calmly, and yet, so firmly. With one more curl of her fingers, you came undone around her fingers, a cry of her name being interrupted by the way Oberyn expertly timed yet another squeeze around your throat. The pleasure that seared through your body increased ten fold, stars erupting behind your eyes as your walls clenched Ellaria’s fingers so tightly she could’ve sworn you were trying to suck her in with them.

Your orgasm seemed to go on for hours, but in truth, it’d only been maybe half a minute. Your head slumped against Ellaria’s shoulder, a soft whimper leaving your lips as she gently removed her fingers and let your thighs clench together. Your eyes grew heavy, but a soft kiss to your lips reminded you that Oberyn was still there too.

“Ah, dove, you didn’t think we we’re quite finished with you yet, did you?” t <3

[thosewickedlovelies]

Messenger Bird  |  Oberyn Martell x afab!Reader x Ellaria Sand

Rating: E for Explicit

Summary: Your flight path finally brings you to the bedchamber of the Prince of Dorne

Tags: SMUT: oral (f recieving), unprotected PiV sex, mention of bondage; Ellaria is in bed with yous but I wouldn’t necessarily call this a threesome; reader vaguely describes themself as being less experienced than Oberyn but I don’t think that should exclude many people lol

Word count: 5,991

Note: This fic is inspired solely by a scene in @radiowallet‘s fabulous Oberyn fic, to which I responded "10/10 would be the person who ends up in bed with Oberyn because he answers the door with his dick out 🤷🏻‍♀️”

This is like, a roughly canon au where Oberyn and Ellaria are married and the regents of Dorne. It's also mostly PWP, so. enjoy lmao <3

Masterlist

“There are few good reasons to be disturbing a prince this early-”

The door opens-

“-but there is one reason I am generally inclined to forgive.”

-and the first thing you see is Prince Oberyn’s hand, wrapped around his cock.

You gape, stupefied. Though cast in bronze, not iron, the wholly naked body of the Prince of Dorne seizes your attention like a magnet. All of your good sense screams at you to avert your gaze, but how can you? 

His hand, and the length it grips, are both shiny, smudged with damp. Is it the same fluid beading at the tip of his cock? 

Or has it a different source? In the background you hear sheets rustling, and a familiar feminine voice drawling.

“Oberyn darling, you know what your advisors say about answering the door in your skin.”

The prince’s eyes had widened infinitesimally upon seeing you, surprise and delight flaring for a split second. That hand moved- up and down, ever so slightly. The faintest motion, just enough to convey that he knew exactly what he was doing.

Something secretive sparkled in Oberyn’s eyes, just barely curled the corners of his full mouth. “What my advisors say, and what our little raven’s face says are two very different things, my love.”

“Oh?”

You wrench your gaze back up to Oberyn’s face, eyes wide. Heat prickles and swarms over your skin. Your tongue has dried up in your mouth, leaving you quite unable to address Princess Ellaria even had you retained the wits to.

“What are you doing up so early, my little messenger bird? Surely there cannot be any urgent demands of me with the day barely dawned?” 

Emboldened, Oberyn leans more comfortably against the door frame, titling his head as he awaits your response. He continues to tug on his cock, an almost idle motion- except his pace is decidedly deliberate. His dark eyes gleam.

Oh, gods, what could you say? That you’d been driven mad by your own need? That there was an itch under your skin which nothing could satisfy, one that had only grown stronger since the bloom of summer and the carelessly revealing fashions Dorne and its prince preferred?

The truth was that you’d barely finished your tea this morn, anticipating that indeed, there should be no important messages for the prince this early, when the Maester’s bark had startled you to wakefulness. Now the small scroll he’d given you was all but crushed in your fist, and doubtless sweat-stained besides.

Mutely, you lift your hand. Small mercies- the tiny seal closing the parchment hadn’t cracked in your grip.

Oberyn measures you for another long moment, eyes narrowing slightly. Scoffing, he takes the scroll from you, releasing his cock with clear displeasure.

A faint breeze blows past you through the open door. It carries the distant murmur of waves crashing, and the ever-present scents of salt and oleander. Silk hangings above the bed sway, glimmering in the rich, fiery colors of the Martell family, tassels fluttering.

Oberyn’s fingers are still wet. They leave fingerprint smudges where he adjusts his grip on the paper. His cock bobs with the faint shifting of his body, his eyes narrowing as he reads. Taking advantage of his distraction, you risk a longer look at the utterly bare body of Oberyn Martell.

Stripped of his usual flowing robes, the prince somehow appears taller. Every part of him is long and lean, rangy muscles stretched along his shapely frame. Despite his frequent act as the long-suffering hedonist forced to rule, there is a sharp intelligence about him- a calculating mind turning beneath hair often mussed by sleep, sex, or spearwork.

His cock is as long and sturdy as he is. As bronze, too. A trim thatch of hair curls neatly around the base, climbing up and stopping teasingly short of his navel. You wonder if the prince sunbathes nude, to achieve such uniformly sun-dipped skin. The moisture coating the hair and skin of his groin shimmers and winks, scattering your thoughts, and you swallow thickly.

You look up again, but you’d lingered too long- Oberyn is watching you already, his mouth curved up the slightest bit. 

He drops the parchment carelessly to the floor. “Tell me true, now, messenger bird. It is only unfortunate happenstance that has kept us from meeting in my bedchamber before now, yes?”

If before there was mischief in his eyes, now it is tempered by a clear, hard demand for truth. Of all the whispers throughout the palace of the prince’s exploits, one unquestionable feature was always present: Oberyn didn’t take unwilling lovers. One entered his bed out of desire, not obligation.

You allow your professional façade to thaw, shaking yourself free of the shock and focusing on the other feelings that the prince always inspired. Delight. Desire. Hunger.

“Yes, my prince.” You dip your head coyly, lashes fluttering.

Oberyn’s smile is that of one who has just learned his long-laid plans have come to fruition- and he intends to savor the results.

“Would you like to come in now? I hope you will not mind my wife’s presence- it is the princess’s bed too, you understand.”

Oberyn steps back in invitation, opening the door wider for you. That hardness has not completely left his eyes- there is flint to it, an almost-challenge sparking.

But your attention is no longer on the prince.

His movement has revealed the princess, still abed behind him. Ellaria has turned on her side toward the door, supported by a cushion pulled to her chest. The fact that it covers the delicate parts of her otherwise bare torso is plainly more by accident than design- the outer curve of her right breast is clearly visible, tan skin an obvious contrast against the orchid-purple silk of the pillow. Her slim frame is barely a ripple in the sheets of the enormous bed, yet her presence commands- no eye could resist her allure. Your lips part.

Ellaria smiles lazily, hooded eyes shimmering with laughter at the knowledge between you.

“I can think of little I would mind less, my lord.” Ellaria’s reaction warms you, inspires a bit more confidence, and you manage to stand a little straighter as you enter the room.

Oberyn glances between you and his wife. “Have I missed something?” he inquires. 

The door closes, and then you’re aware of Oberyn behind you, so close you can feel the heat radiating from all of his bare flesh.

Your mouth goes dry again. If Ellaria was the encouraging warmth of an arm around the shoulders, Oberyn was heat- mercurial as a desert wind. A temperature vacillating on the cusp of dangerous.

Thankfully, Ellaria seems immune to Oberyn’s effect. “I’m afraid our sweet messenger bird made a rather…special delivery to me last week, while you were otherwise occupied, my prince.”

“My heart! You did not tell me?” You can feel Oberyn puffing up behind you, his tone full of indignance.

The princess presses her lips together, clearly stifling amusement. “It was entirely too brief an affair, in honesty. Everything was busy during that period- it must have simply slipped my mind. Truly, I’m sorry, my love.” Her dark eyes shine, but the apology is sincere. Sweet and simple as sugared almonds.

“Hmmm.” Oberyn’s considering hum rumbles through you, like the purr of a great cat. “This morn is my turn, then. After that we will be even.”

You jump at the brush of his hands on your waist. The prince was out of sight behind your back, and his touch was a surprise that sent gooseflesh rippling over you.

“How does that sound, sweet bird? Will you let me ravish you like such a one as lovely as you deserves to be ravished? Will you share a morning of pleasure with your prince?” Oberyn lowers his voice to a deep rasp in your ear; he toys with the raven-black sash of your messenger’s uniform, but does not loosen it. 

Your body tightens and warms from top to toe. Ellaria has not taken her eyes off you; her gaze scorches like a fresh coal in a warming pan.

“I would be honored, my prince.” 

It would be a lie to say you weren’t nervous. There were rumors, of course, of the prince’s inclinations in the bedchamber. If nothing else, his experience far surpassed your own; he liked things to go his way, but this, at least, would suit you fine.

Finally, Oberyn pulls free the tie of your sash. He draws it off your shoulders, but then, still holding it, comes to stand in front of you. The gather of fabric is just enough to block your view of his sex.

“You must promise me one thing, Bird. You will tell me, if we veer too close to anything you do not want. Any activity, any place on that lovely body. I do not force things on my companions.

“I am a man of many desires, but among them will never be thus. I am your prince, not your master.” Oberyn holds your gaze.

A fragment of uncertainty still holding tight in your chest dissipates. “I understand. I promise, my prince.”

Those obsidian eyes soften slightly. “You may use my name.”

You hesitate. Even your fantasies had not dared to dream of such familiarities. “I promise…Prince Oberyn.”

Oberyn smiles then, a wide, pleased expression. He tosses your sash to the side, revealing his cock still proud and alert. He moves closer, and you’re reminded of the great cats that stalk the mountains in the north of Dorne- all sleek, bunching muscles and a singular focus on the object of their hunt. In this moment, you suppose that would make you the prey. It’s a dizzying, thrilling  thought: that the prince of Dorne, the Viper himself, seeks you.

As his hands seek your jaw now, sliding along your skin with the slowness of one who knows well the effect his touch has. Oberyn cradles your face in his hands, lifting your chin, your mouth- a cup from which he intends to drink deep. His breath brushes your lips, syrupy with the taste of wine. 

Oberyn’s dark eyes bore into your face. “Sweet bird,” he murmurs. His rasp is the last thing you hear before his mouth touches yours, and then your head fills with wind. Blood rushing and roaring in your ears, blotting out all other sensation but Oberyn’s mouth, full and soft and confident, urging you to follow his motions, guiding you into his world of sensual wonder.

And you follow willingly. You part your lips to the prince’s tongue, and relish the confidence with which he slips inside, weaving layers of sensation into the kiss.

Oberyn still holds your face to his. His hands span the entire length of your jaw, and they are not idle: his fingertips stroke and massage in small motions, sending tingles down your neck, pleasure rippling through you like wind through tall grass. You become aware, suddenly, of Oberyn’s body- it’s easing gradually closer to your own, the entire burning mass of it sending heat through your clothes, like leaning against the chimney of a great hearthfire. You inhale sharply. 

The prince withdraws from your kiss. He studies your wide, dreamstruck eyes, your lips, now appropriately kiss-swollen. Smirking, he looks to Ellaria for approval. His wife’s gaze travels down your body.

“I didn’t get to see her last time.” The princess pouts. “Undress her for me, darling?”

“Anything for you, my love.”

Oberyn returns his attention to you. “Yes?” His hands skate meaningfully down your back, to the laces of your dress.

“Yes,” you answer, and his hands are already working. “-to both.”

Oberyn laughs once, loud and bright with surprise. “Careful, sweet bird, or I will think you are here only to steal my wife from me.”

Ellaria’s eyes sparkle. “Sweet words from a sweet bird, indeed.” She shifts to lie more comfortably, relocating her long fall of curls with the sweep of a practiced hand. The cushion is carelessly adjusted, and then her right breast is fully visible, as pert and lovely as you only briefly glimpsed during your meeting. 

Ellaria faintly smirks at your expression, but a moment later you are both distracted. Your gown sags in the familiar shapelessness of undone laces, and Oberyn is quick to take advantage. He traces the exposed skin up your spine, and you arch at his touch, your lungs filling. You move to help him remove the gown, but he stops you.

“Slowly, now,” Oberyn whispers in your ear. “Give the princess something to long for.”

He draws your dress slowly down your shoulders, and you mark the speed. As slow and languorous as a drizzle of honey pools on a cake. Your heart beats fast. You have never made a performance of undressing for a lover- surely the lovemaking itself ought to be the show?

But as you grip the bodice of your dress, lowering it with exaggerated slowness, pulling the fabric tight to emphasize your breasts about to spill free- you think you understand. Ellaria’s gaze rivets to your chest, growing hungrier the longer you and Oberyn take to bare you. What is a main act, after all, without the opening scenes?

Your own hunger rises as you witness Ellaria’s. You finally lower the gown to bare your breasts entirely, but Oberyn’s hands immediately cover them. You gasp. His movement was unexpected…and very distracting. A small sound of pleasure breaks from you as the prince’s callused hands massage the tender flesh in a way that feels entirely deliberate. Knowledgeable. Like he knows exactly what this will do- this squeeze, this twist of your nipple, this-

“Keep going,” Oberyn purrs.

-this command, given in his sensual rasp.

Between the prince at your back and the princess to your front, you have nowhere to hide. No way to. Everywhere you are confronted with something that stokes the flame of desire steadily growing within you.

Oberyn had told you to keep going. One by one, you free your arms from their sleeves, letting the morning sun play on your skin, the sea breeze raise the fine hairs. The prince’s hands continue to massage your breasts, exploring every dip and curve of your torso as your gown drops further. Finally it’s at your hips, and without any extra encouragement you push it down to pool around your feet.

Wearing nothing but the morning light, you stand before the regents of Dorne. 

Or you try to- Oberyn has molded himself to your back, mouthing at your neck, and suddenly your knees struggle to hold you upright.

Any self-consciousness you thought you’d feel fades away as you turn in Oberyn’s arms to kiss him, and are welcomed eagerly. The prince rewards your initiative with an approving groan, hauling you to him, encouraging you to get as close as you wish. Every inch of him is firm with muscle, standing sturdy against your desperate grasping. You can’t decide what to reach for first- you want to touch all of him.

Especially the burning length trapped between your hips. You reach for it, and Oberyn lets out another low sound of pleasure, breaking your kiss as you tip your head down to watch yourself touch him.

Oberyn wraps his hand around yours, stilling your motions. “Patience, Bird.” His eyes dance, warm and amused. “We have plenty of time. I think the princess is getting lonely, yes?”

He herds you gently toward the bed, where Ellaria is indeed waiting, with something like envy on her face.

What could she possibly have to be envious of? The princess had no reason to suffer such an emotion. She could end this, remove you from her husband’s arms, with but a word.

What you don’t see, as Oberyn's handful of your rear interferes with your tentative climb into the bed, is that Ellaria’s gaze is not on the prince, but on you.

Your elbows buckle and you squeak. 

“Hurry up, or I will assume you wish to be kept in this position,” Oberyn growls from behind you- from over you. He has clambered over your back, draping himself over you and planting his hands on your wrists.

His tone is light with jest, but you have no doubt he means it. This is a common theme in many of the oft-whispered stories- if the prince and princess like someone enough, they might keep them a whole day, or night, or any length of time, really. For their use and pleasure alone. Even restrained, if the guest wishes- and from what you’ve heard, enough have wished it to make you wonder.

The thought makes you shiver. As does Oberyn’s grip, dragging your hands gently upward, forcing your face and chest flat against the silk sheets. Your breathing quickens. Oberyn’s hips press into your rear, his cock rubbing between your cheeks, and with your knees spread the way they are, you can feel the wetness of your own arousal smeared cool against your inner thighs. 

Heat flares in your cheeks. Is Oberyn going to fuck you already?

“Mmm,” he rumbles into your neck. “That is very tempting, but I shall take my own advice, I think. Patience.”

And Oberyn demonstrates a great store of patience, indeed. You lie, belly down in slippery silk, for an immeasurable length of time as the prince drags his mouth along every inch of your skin. You squirm and pant and moan under the delicious assault, fresh slick welling when he lingers where your thighs meet. His weight lifts off you as Oberyn finally descends, imprinting new damp patches down your left leg.

You take the opportunity to shift, half turning on your side toward Ellaria. She’s watching you, eyes slumberous and knowing. Her fingers trace light paths across your arms and chest- the first time she’s touched so much of your bare skin.

“Will you bring us songs as well as messages in the future, sweet bird? You sound so lovely when you sing.”

“If the prince and princess wish it,” you answer honestly.

You yelp as Oberyn switches legs, nipping your right ankle. Your flinch draws Ellaria’s attention to your chest. Her hand moves lower, boldly caressing the supple, sensitive flesh, all the while watching your face. She thumbs your nipple experimentally, and you bite your lip. She pinches it, and you gasp, the touch zinging straight to your core. 

This time your motion twitches your thigh away from Oberyn’s mouth. With a growl, he crawls back up the bed, shoving himself unceremoniously between you and Ellaria. 

“You have already had your fun, my love.” The prince falls atop his wife, his teeth at her neck. “Do not make me restrain you this morn.” 

He swallows the princess’s giggles with a shamelessly wanton, thorough kiss. 

“That would be a terrible torture, indeed.” Ellaria is finally able to agree, teasingly, breathlessly. “Very well, my love. I shall not interrupt your designs.”

Oberyn kisses her again, quick and soft. Resting his forehead against hers, he turns his head to you. “Perhaps after I am through with her, you can give me a reenactment of your meeting.”

His eyes gleam wickedly as he looks at you while addressing his wife.

They are both impossibly beautiful. Inky hair and rich coloring- the very sun yearns to embrace them, its golden arms reaching across the bed. They appear all the more unearthly when gilded with its light; untouchable as muses, models which sculptors might strive their whole lives to do justice.

But they are as physical as you. The illusion is broken when Oberyn again slides his body across yours, pleasure striking like sparks over your skin.

“Come, sweet one. I wish for my messenger bird to perch upon my face.”

Oberyn wants you to…sit on his face? Why? 

The prince stretches out on your other side. You sit up, wanting to oblige him but unsure of his intent. You don’t understand until Oberyn reaches for your sex, stroking lightly in a beckoning gesture. He growls in satisfaction at the slickness that readily coats his fingers.

Oberyn reads the hesitation in your face. “You have not done this before.”

“No, my prince. I’m sorry.”

“Do not apologize. It is an honor to teach new pleasures to the subjects in my care.”

The sheets rustle as Ellaria strokes your thigh comfortingly. “Oberyn had much to teach me, as well, when I first came to his bed. You will like this,” she assures you.

Oberyn makes no objection to his wife’s touch this time. “What is going to happen is you, lovely bird, are going to sit that shapely bottom here-” he pats his chest “-which will allow me to taste your sweetness directly from the source.” He dips the tips of those beckoning fingers into your cunt, leaving no doubt as to his meaning.

You are stunned all over again. Although this time some of your bemusement is surely due to the way the prince’s thumb joins his fingers, pressing at the bud of your sex even while his fingers continue to rub at something divine inside you.

You arch and whimper. “Prince Oberyn-!”

He chuckles, a pleased, approving sound. “That’s right, sweet bird. Come, take your perch and sing.”

The prince tugs and maneuvers you just so, arranging you above his mouth. His fingers are wet on your thigh.

His mouth is wetter. You moan, high and long and helpless, when Oberyn’s mouth engulfs your sex. Past lovers have done this for you (albeit in more traditional positions), but Oberyn has clearly received a prince’s education even in the carnal arts. Slippery heat and suction, concentrated pressure and indiscriminate lapping- somehow he knows precisely what to do and where, and when, and for how long-

“Ah~!” you cry out again as pleasure rushes up all too suddenly, pressure about to burst like a geyser. You squirm and try to lift away from Oberyn, but his arms are wrapped around your thighs, keeping you firmly in place. Surely it would be rude to climax before the prince?

Ellaria’s grip above your knee has tightened. In your parted lips, your heaving chest, she reads the signs.

“Take your pleasure, sweet bird.” Her eyes are now wide, rather than sleepy. “You needn’t wait to reach your peak.”

Her intent gaze is all the permission you need- as is Oberyn’s tongue, twisting relentlessly at your clit. Your uncertainty snaps at his wordless demand. Pleasure floods your system, climax shuddering through every muscle, everything pulling abruptly tight before releasing

The onslaught of bliss gradually recedes. Accompanying the very last of it is a long, deep sigh- a confirmation of relief if there ever was one. Your thighs tremble suddenly, after holding tense for so long. Your hands fall to Oberyn’s head to support yourself, fingers instinctively stroking through the short, bristly strands of his hair.

The prince tips his head back into your caress, revealing his mouth and chin shiny with your release. His eyes glint with satisfaction. 

“Was that as sweet for you as it was for me, Songbird?” 

“I daresay it was, my prince.” You are breathless and overcome with the sudden urge to giggle.

You begin to ease off of Oberyn, your limbs clumsy as if affected by the same buzzing that fills your head. It’s a giddy, bubbling sensation; it reminds you of a party the palace hosted, not long ago. You don’t remember the reason, now. Only that the prince had used it as an excuse to share a marvelous new kind of wine he’d discovered on his travels- a sweet, white vintage which fizzed, in which bubbles rose endlessly, seemingly without source or cause. It sparkled in mouths and in spirits all night long. He’d invited all the palace staff to the celebration, to try this magical wine, and had caught your eye that night. Your spirit lifted by the bubbles, you’d smiled at Oberyn.

Nothing came of it that night, of course. But now, with your body loose as if that wine were still fizzing in your veins…you cannot find it in you to feel disappointed. 

Oberyn takes a second to ensure that you are again lying snugly between him and Ellaria. Then he leans over you entirely, his mouth still shiny, and Ellaria sits up slightly to meet him. She moans at the taste of you in his kiss.

Oberyn’s manhood presses into your thigh. It is insistently hard, a ruddy flush to it now, and leaking freely. The fluid smears onto your skin. Eyes wide, you are entranced by the prince and princess all over again.

The ends of Ellaria’s raven curls brush your arm, soft and sweet-smelling. Following them upward, your eye catches on a necklace encircling her throat. A slender gold chain rests atop her collarbone. From it dangles small stones, their polished surfaces catching the light in shades suggesting a sunrise: pink, lavender, topaz. It seems to glimmer with a light all its own, the chain links shifting and tinkling as Ellaria moves.

“Perhaps you will have to try our topsy-turvy position with her as well, my love.” Oberyn murmurs against Ellaria’s lips, and you’d swear her cheeks colored the slightest tinge.

Turning his head, the prince notices what has caught your attention.

“Do you like her necklace, sweet bird?”

Oberyn shifts his body over yours as he speaks. Distracted by his words, you almost don’t notice the prince’s body sinking between your legs- until you feel a cool brush of air where there hadn’t been, and something rigid, long, and hot settle at the seam of your cunt. You draw a startled breath.

“I like how it sparkles and chimes when I fuck her, “ Oberyn croons in your ear. His tongue flickers at your neck, every inch the viper; the sensation crackles down your spine like a whip-strike of fresh pleasure. “Shall we find one for you?”

Your mouth hangs open, but no air or sound passes in either direction. Perhaps there are too many sounds you could make, and not enough air in the room; all you can do is stare.

Taking your shock as assent, Oberyn directs Ellaria to pick something for you. “We keep a jewelry box by the bed for this very purpose.” The prince smirks.

Ellaria stretches toward the nightstand at Oberyn’s bid, the sheets slithering down her back. She could be a sea-nymph, reaching out from a pool of gold, the silk glimmering like water around her. It is a mesmerizing sight: Ellaria’s long back, a slim braid of muscles flickering as she rummages in a drawer. Her arm arcs upward suddenly, triumphant, and when she turns back the silk slips lower still, and you glimpse what you had only felt between her legs that day…

Ellaria dangles her prize before your face. A short chain of gold like hers, but from which hang smaller stones like clusters of grapes, winking in the light. You can’t imagine wearing something so fine- but then, you couldn’t imagine being welcomed into the prince and princess’s bed before this morning, either. Being adored and adorned by two such breathtaking individuals at once.

“Perfect.” Oberyn’s declaration is hushed and reverent. “This will shine like stars against your skin.” 

“Put it on,” he orders. Then he nearly whispers, “Let us get you ready for me, songbird.”

In his tone is a wicked desire that you realize had been banked, before now. But now- as he pins your legs open with his own body, with his own hand- you sense there is no stopping it.

Oberyn slips two fingers into you, the first rush of the flood he had thus far contained. You gasp, thighs spasming. But Oberyn had drawn from you a flood of your own earlier, and there was no pain, only sudden recognition of an ache- a hunger for more than just the prince’s fingers.

Ellaria drags the end of the necklace over your chest. The metal scrapes gently over your nipples, a startling but not unpleasant sensation, and you squirm at the onslaught of stimulation- Oberyn’s fingers filling you, Ellaria’s fingers brushing your throat- and finally, the close-fitting chain clasping snugly around your neck.

You swallow, and feel the resistance of the unyielding metal against the bob of your throat. Oberyn watches you intently, hungrily. His fingers still move inside you, experimenting with one motion, then another, tracking your reaction to each one. You hitch your thighs open wider as sensations compete for your attention. You tip your head back, exposing your now-bejeweled throat to Oberyn.

“Do I sparkle enough for you, my prince?”

One corner of his mouth curls up, but it’s an almost mocking effect combined with the glitter in his eyes. “Let us find out, little raven.”

Without further warning, Oberyn’s fingers withdraw from your cunt. Every muscle in you tightens, your awareness narrowing in anticipation. Oberyn strokes his cock through your sex, readying you. Your hips lift toward the sensation. Your eyes lock.

The prince of Dorne plunges his cock into you in a single, breathtaking stroke. Your head drops back; your eyes roll heavenward. Oberyn’s loud, satisfied moan fills the room. He relishes this moment as fully as he enjoys everything else he does, his hips grinding forward into yours like he cannot get enough of himself inside you.

Your eyes are squeezed shut, your breathing short. Oberyn’s cock fills you like nothing you’ve ever felt, until there is no room for you to focus on anything but the thick, burning length of him.

“Look at me, Bird. Open your eyes.”

How can you do anything but obey? 

Oberyn’s gaze is fiercely alive, shining with joy and triumph at the pleasure connecting you.

You can hardly speak, but he sees it in your eyes; you have never been so thrilled to feel like a mouse in the cat’s claws. 

After that there is nothing more to be said. Oberyn ravishes you as he promised, raining praises like word of law, scandalous declarations that make you blush despite your position beneath him. Every stroke of his cock is a work of art. The prince draws out your pleasure from a seemingly endless spool, until you are unraveled, trembling, teetering on the knife’s edge of bliss.

The necklace around your throat did indeed glitter like a chain of stars. Oberyn thrusts into you hard, taking it as a challenge to make the stones chime louder than you sobbed each time. He thoroughly enjoys the way each thrust makes your curves ripple. He enjoys, too, the sight of his wife plastering herself to your shoulder, cooing encouragement even as she contributes to Oberyn’s treatment.

“You’re doing so well, sweet bird. My husband does have stamina, doesn’t he? And this after he had me earlier this morn…” Ellaria’s voice is lush and silky as flower petals- and as erotic dragging over your skin. “I had no idea you could sing so sweetly.”

Oberyn slows his pace. “I should not be the only one to have you today, my heart. I wish to hear what songs you make together.”

Oberyn grips your chin in his large hand and turns your face toward the princess. “What do you say, Songbird? Will you eat my wife’s cunt when I’m through with yours?”

You would have agreed to anything as long he brought you back to that dazzling edge, but this was a bargain you’d be happy to fulfill.

“Yes,” you gasp. “Gladly.”

A small smile tilts up Ellaria’s mouth. “I would be most intrigued to experience the talents of this lovely mouth,” she muses. “But perhaps I would rather eat yours, instead. You know how I like to taste you, my prince.”

She direct the last words to her husband, sultry mischief in her dark eyes. Her fingertips dance between your bodies, down, down, to where you are split around him. You jolt at the targeted pressure she places on your clit. 

Oberyn groans, his forehead lowering to your shoulder. “I fear you shall not have long to wait, my love. This cunt is truly divine- it may deserve further worship after all…”

His words trail away, praises only half-formed grunted into your neck. His thrusts speed up again. The two of them on either side of you, commanding your pleasure so sweetly, overwhelms your senses- as do Ellaria’s fingers, pressing precisely where you need.

Your mouth opens in a soundless cry as you tip over the precipice. Oberyn jerks his head up to see, and the gorgeous pleasure-pain contorting your features, your cunt fluttering in time with your body’s convulsions, yanks the prince after you. 

Ellaria watches raptly. Her husband’s long body, muscles rippling as he pistons into another, was a sight she never tired of. Neither was his near-snarl as he climaxed, his body seizing and shuddering in ecstasy.

The prince continues moving until your cries turn to whimpers, and your thighs clamp around his hips. A sinister thought briefly quirks his mouth- if he had not been additionally sated by Ellaria earlier, it would have taken much more effort indeed to slow him. Oberyn is rarely satisfied unless his lovers are all but unable to rise from his bed. 

A good thing then, that a familiar gleam has appeared in his wife’s eye.

As Oberyn lowers himself back down to your side, Ellaria takes his place, her body undulating atop yours like a serpent. The prince watches with lazy satisfaction. Despite both his recent releases, his blood maintains a low simmer at the sight of the two of you, the feminine swells of you squishing and spilling against one another. Like the overflow of cream from a bun, he thinks dreamily. Exactly how he likes his cream- overflowing. Perhaps he will be able to sleep now, and he can request some custard puffs from the kitchens later for a second reenactment…

You have barely caught your breath from Oberyn’s attention when Ellaria steals it again, her tongue slipping against yours in a familiar dance. Unencumbered by gowns this time, you are able to touch all of her, caressing down her spine and lower, marveling at the smoothness of her skin. She sits up slightly, and slickness that's not your own lets her rock easily against your sex.

“You sing too sweetly to release so soon, lovely bird. Have you any urgent appointments today?”

Your gaze falls to the black sash which Oberyn had so carelessly tossed aside. Before you can respond, another knock sounds at the door.

Oberyn lets out a half-hearted snarl. “By all the gods-”

Again fully nude, but appearing even more debauched than when you’d arrived, the prince stalks to the door and flings it open.

“Yes?”

It’s another messenger, although her reaction is very different from yours: she stares rigidly ahead, her voice quavering at the sight of Oberyn’s naked, recently exerted body. 

“My prince, the Maester sent me to look for…” she trails off when she spots you, her eyes flitting to you for a split second when Oberyn shifts impatiently. “I’m sorry for disturbing you, my lord.” She bows her head, her voice going squeaky.

“Tell him I have need of this raven for a special task today. I will answer his missive later.”

Oberyn is closing the door before he’s done speaking. When he turns back to the bed, he finds you with your head thrown back, writhing as Ellaria toys deliberately with your nipples. 

He chuckles. “And you tell me I am the incorrigible one, my love.”

Oberyn burrows languidly into the sheets again, stretching out comfortably by your side. You’re whimpering by now, a furrow in your brow rapidly taking the shape of disbelief. It’s a feeling he knows well. 

“Oh, sweet bird, my wife is a rare talent with her fingers, is she not? We have hardly begun all the things we would do to you…”

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