#oberyn x f!reader

[almostempty]

What’s Love Got to Do with It

(oberyn x f!reader)  wc: 4.6k | other fics 

note: hey y’all it’s me ya gurl, here to defile another prompt with a silly idea <3 Sooo, from the three brain cells that brought you fuckboy!joel and divorced dad rock dilf!joel 🫡i now humbly present …. Frat bro Oberyn, Aka The Red Viper, aka the Prince of Pong, aka the Slut of Delta Psi (i did steal the frat name from the film Neighbors—in which they do sing a line from Creed in their frat chant, so in some twisted way, they’re kind of all connected right??) 

I fear this may have just been funny to me so feel free to skip, but thank you to everyone who tolerates my shenanigans <3. 

ANYWAY, The lovely @baronessvonglitter bestowed upon me Oberyn x What’s Love Got to Do with It for fucktober (happy belated bday babe) but naturally, i made it weird. Thanks to @sunshinehaze1 for reminding me that modern AUs exist when I got scared of the GOT universe and to @auterdelabre for reminding me that the answer is always fuckboy. Don’t blame them for anything else.

Summary: You attend a fraternity toga party, and you catch the eye of Delta Psi’s notorious Red Viper. He shows you how he got the nickname and then he shows you something else he’s known for. 

tags/warnings: explicit 18+ smut, alcohol/partying, gratuitous flirting, piv, fuckboy behavior aka on to the next one, infidelity, i couldn’t bring myself to write his dialogue in frat bro™ –aka i didn’t fully commit to the bit bc that man just had to be smooth and had to fuck no matter what universe i put him in, apologies if that ruins your immersion in my pwp, per usual: no y/n, f!reader is able bodied otherwise no specifics, unprotected piv as if it’s no biggie because it’s fiction (don’t do that irl), no beta/limited proofreading sorry for all mistakes 

“Oh my god, that’s him!” Your best friend shouts into your ear as you walk down the sidewalk. You blend into the sea of toga-clad college kids, sandals slapping against the pavement. Liv leans on you, pointing out the guy she’s talking about. You can hear the music pouring out into the street and people inside yelling and chanting over someone doing a keg stand or something equally as exciting and alcohol-related, you assume. 

The guy she pointed out is leaning casually against the banister, letting some ripped blond dude entertain him on the porch. “That’s the guy your roommate was talking about?” you question your friend. Liv agrees with a smile as you walk towards the front steps. 

Everyone else on the porch looks like a frat bro wrapped in a wrinkly bedsheet, but for some reason, he seems almost godlike. He’s luminous under the warm lights. As if he knew you were checking him out, he turns his head just as you walk past, and his eyes sweep over you, making your face hot. Something sparks between you before he turns away, taking a swig of his drink. 

Liv had given you a rundown on what to expect at your first Delta Psi party. You had argued that you knew what college parties were like. You transferred this quarter as a senior, and you just didn’t have Greek life at your other school or your best friend to convince you to go out. But now, you’re here, dressed up and entering a party that really does feel a little more intense than the ones back at your small-town university. 

Liv’s roommate had given you the rundown on the guys she knew in the fraternity, but you didn’t pay much attention to her descriptions. You figured there was no way a Brad, Dylan, Connor, or a Brent would actually be hot. And then, when she started with the ones with nicknames, you completely checked out after Viper and Rooster. It has to defy the laws of nature for a frat bro that goes by Rooster to be able to find your clit—even if he IS hot. 

Yet, now you realize you might be eating your words because you get it. You were too quick to judge, whoops. “Which one was that?” you ask in Liv’s ear as you both make your way through the people sloshing drinks and dancing. 

“Viper!” 

You can’t help the immediate grimace that emerges on your face. “That’s so douchey!” you shout back over the noise before she pulls you down a hall toward that kitchen. She leans in close to your ear, telling you that her roommate swears she got the best head of her life from him. “No fucking way,” you argue. 

“Way,” she smirks back. “He’s got a girlfriend now, though. They’re, like, totally in love, it’s all over social media.” She mocks puking at the idea, and you share a laugh.

You explore the party together. The house is huge; one room on the main floor is blasting EDM, and another is blasting top 40 hits. There are a couple of beer pong tables in the backyard and a detached garage filled with stoners on old couches giggling to themselves. You know that Liv is itching to park her ass on one of those sofas and find a girl or guy to whom she can woo with her French inhale and makeout with for the rest of the night. 

But, she’s a loyal ass bitch who wouldn’t abandon you. You circle back through the house. You spend a little while dancing together and taking your time to see if there’s anyone else who catches your eye. Nobody really sticks out to you in the first room until you catch his eyes again. You have to do a double-take as you circle your waist and roll your body against Liv. 

He’s semi-shrouded in the corner; with the dim lighting and the packed house, it would be easy to miss the two of them altogether. But when the girl clinging to him turns around to grind her ass against him, he locks eyes with you, and you swear that fucker winks at you before a group of girls prance into the room, shouting oh my god, it’s our song! You try to shake it off. You were definitely just seeing things with the lights. 

You signal to Liv, and she follows you into the other room. You dance together a bit longer. She offers you a swig from her rhinestone-encrusted flask, but you turn her down, staying sober tonight. You feel euphoric enough with the strobe lights and the thrumming bass from the EDM remixes blasting in the room. 

You turn down a few wasted white dudes who try to dance up on the two of you. Too drunk. Not your type. Too handsy. You’re not afraid to punch a man in the throat or the nuts if they don’t get the hint, but they back off when you give them a gentle shove and a shake of your head. The most recent suitor is turning and scoping for another girl to approach when you see him again. 

He’s moving towards you, looking right at you, but there’s no girl on his arm–or crotch, now. For some reason, it makes you feel too hot. You’re sweating from the dancing anyway, so you ignore the electric look in his eye that makes your clit twitch and grab Liv’s arm to make a dash for the backyard to get some fresh air. 

You debrief with each other and come to an agreement. You tell Liv to do her thing, urging her to head towards the couch with the skater dude wearing the toga made from a dinosaur patterned sheet and the high-top vans. She agrees to text you if she plans to relocate or wants to leave before you finish taking another lap around the party. 

You sort of lie to her, claiming someone inside caught your eye. They did, but you aren’t planning to do anything about it. Instead, you part ways and head back through the house, past the pledge posing as a bouncer at the front door, and onto the front porch. The music is still loud, but it’s quieter out front. People still trickle in and out of the party. You stare out at the night sky, searching for the moon. In your own little world, you’re basking in your own peace. 

“I haven’t seen you here before,” a rich, velvety voice washes over your shoulder. It should make you jerk away, give you goosebumps, and raise your hackles. But, instead, the interruption stirs liquid heat in your core and makes your nipples hard. Because it’s him. 

You turn your head and confirm. He’s so close to you. 

“You know every girl here?” you challenge him. 

“I know the ladies and gentlemen that pique my curiosity,” his voice is so smooth. He’s a charmer, for sure. He offers you a drink, holding out two plastic cups in one hand. The size of his hand does make you tingly, but his smile falters when you shoot him one of your signature dirty looks. 

Before he can ask about the look, you take one of the cups, give him a cloyingly sweet smile, and pour it out over the railing into the grass below. The tail of his brow quirks, and he gives you a sly smile that widens into a grin and a full-chested laugh. “Oops,” you mock. 

“You’re a bold woman,” he muses, “I like that.” 

He doesn’t back down after you toss out his drink. He doesn’t take it as a rejection. He understands when you explain you don’t take open drinks from strangers at a frat party, but you roll your eyes hard when he gloats about not needing tricks or drugs to find a lover. 

He banters with you as he downs the remaining drink. He’s quick, with sharp wit and a devious smile. You can’t keep your eyes off his exposed chest, his arms, his neck, his eyes. It’s still confusing how he can look so regal, whereas everyone else in the party looks a little…goofy? Cliche? He pulls you back to the present, asking for your name before he gives you his. 

“They call me ‘the Red Viper,’” he gives you a provocative grin like he knows exactly how hot he looks, even with a bedsheet draped over his shoulder. 

You play into his hand, “Is that some kinda of euphemism?” Feeding his ego with a suggestive arch of your brow. Maybe you’re bold, but you don’t think he’s the type to be deterred by a confident woman. In fact, it seems to make him glow even brighter.

His voice lowers, dripping with an enticing challenge, “Are you looking to find out?” he asks. 

His jaw quirks, and you’re mesmerized watching him suck at his lower lip. It looks so perfectly plump and kissable, curling into a smirk as his eyes gleam with mischief. “Come,” he beckons for you to follow him deeper into the party. 

“I thought you had a girlfriend,” you say stiffly, remembering what Liv had said as you walked in. He looks at you curiously before shaking his head lightly. 

“You mean Cora? From earlier? She’s not my girlfriend. We were just dancing.” 

“No,” you shake your head, “I heard it’s all over social media. That you’re loved up.” 

“Oh, so you’ve heard of me?” he gives you that cocky smile that absolutely shouldn’t work but somehow makes you feel warm like you’re laying on the warm sand on a beach listening to the waves crashing. You don’t say anything else, and he leans in a little closer, “What’s love got to do with it?” he asks huskily. Dangerously. 

It makes you shudder with something warm and twisted. 

“Now,” he guides you gently but firmly, “Come.” You need him to stop saying it like an order before you do. 

You let him walk you through the party. Weaving through the boisterous crowds. They part easily for him, clearing a path like he’s royalty. 

“They call me ‘the Red Viper’ because I’m lethal at any game involving a red Solo cup.” He murmurs it into your ear like it’s a sexy secret. 

You laugh brightly at that, giving him a gentle shove. “That’s the lamest thing I’ve ever heard!” 

He gives you a coy shrug. “It’s the truth.” He leads you into the backyard, towards the beer pong tables. “I’ll show you,” he says just for you to hear. The string lights illuminate the yard in soft light; however, the mood is anything but romantic, with the drunk cheering college kids taking their drinking games very seriously. 

You watch, amused, as one team high-fives each other over their trick shot. At another table, both teams heatedly argue about “house rules.” 

“It’s the prince of pong!” one of his fraternity brothers shouts across the lawn. He gives you the most dramatic I told you so glance, and you mouth “lame” back at him. He calls ‘next game,’ and as if he were their lord, one table immediately clears out, forfeiting in a demonstration of fealty. 

“Ladies first,” he offers once he’s set up all the cups to his liking. He’s so arrogant about it, and it shouldn’t turn you on, but it absolutely does. 

You grin across the table at him. “You’re on.” 

He’s merciful at first. You land a few cups, giving you enough confidence to talk shit and tease him. But it rapidly becomes apparent that he’s a man of his word as he easily picks off every cup on your end of the table with precision.  

Despite your rapid descent towards a loss, you eat up his charm. His magnetic energy. He makes the rest of the party disappear when he looks at you. It makes your heart tingle and your pussy flutter. He’s a gracious winner, only gloating a little as he reracks the table and offers it up to other party-goers. 

“Alright, Viper, you won. You can retain your title.” You admit defeat as he slinks up close to you, ushering you along to the side of the house, only a few steps away but more secluded from the rest of the party. 

“And now, will you allow me to claim my prize?” he asks in his smoky, deep voice. 

Despite his clear intentions, you feign confusion as he wraps one wide hand around your waist and tilts your chin towards his face with the other. “I didn’t know we were playing for stakes,” you smile brashly. Your skin blazes under his touch and his seductive gaze as his eyes drop to your mouth. 

He starts to dip towards you, but you swerve away from him. It’s on the tip of your tongue to ask again if he’s in a relationship. He growls softly, almost a purr, next to your ear. “What’s wrong, my lady?” he murmurs. The intimacy of it is heady, and your surroundings fade. 

You want to take whatever he’s offering, no questions, so instead you whisper, “Tell me your real name.”

He sighs softly before giving in and telling you his name. 

“Oberyn,” you repeat back, “that’s unique.” 

He starts muttering about how he’s an international student, but you’ve got all the info you needed. Now you don’t have to add a guy named Viper to your mental list of hookups. 

“I like it,” you cut him off before slotting your mouth against his and making up for ducking out of his last attempt at a kiss with your eagerness. He wraps his arm around you, and you’re transported. One large hand presses against your lower back, urging your hips toward his, and the other cradles your jaw, giving you a sense of stability as he matches your ferocity. 

You briefly wonder if you’d have melted if he wasn’t holding you so tightly before your thoughts are consumed by the sensation of his lips against yours and his tongue running along yours. It’s not a kiss you would’ve expected from a frat guy. It’s romantic and passionate, and you feel your body rolling against his, caught up in the sensation and intensity. 

You keep going, letting yourself enjoy the moment, eating up the flavor of him, the scent of him, and the throbbing intensifying between your legs. You slip one of your hands along the back of his neck into his soft hair, and he groans into your mouth. It makes your knees weak. 

You chase his mouth as he pulls back and looks into your heavy-lidded eyes. Sharing the hot air between you, it feels like a current is looping through your bodies, buzzing with need. 

“Let’s go upstairs,” he urges in a gravelly whisper. You can feel him hardening against you. His hand on your back is firm, keeping you flush, pelvis to pelvis, making you nearly dizzy. However, his hand on your jaw is gentle, brushing his thumb along your cheek sweetly. You still can’t help goading just a little. 

“What for?” you ask playfully. 

“To fuck.” 

It makes your cheeks hot. Maybe there should be red flags popping up in your mind, but you don’t care. He likes a bold woman, and you like a direct man. 

“Unless you’d rather do it in the grass here,” he tilts his head toward the ground. You act like you’re considering the option seriously, making him laugh before he releases you from his arms. “Don’t tease,” he says with a severe look, “It wouldn’t bother me.” 

Me either, you consider before deciding not to say that part aloud. You tell him to take you to a real bed, and he does. Swiftly guiding you into the house and up the stairs, past the pledge guarding the rooms, and into his bedroom. He spins around, pinning you against the door for another searing kiss. It’s more urgent this time. He’s quickly moving to your neck, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your tender skin as you both greedily run your hands along each other’s bodies. 

Before you can get your hands under his toga, he’s detaching from you and sinking to his knees. He moves efficiently, bunching up your toga and asking you to hold it. Then he’s hovering his hot mouth over your mound before kissing you over your lacey panties. 

“Mmm,” he hums into you and traces the crease of your thighs with one hand, following the line until he’s softly running his fingers along the edge of your panties, the tips of his fingers barely dipping beneath the hem as he moves towards your core. You watch, staring down with your mouth parted as he holds your gaze. 

He teases you, running his fingertips along your seam over the soaked fabric, tapping and teasing at your swollen clit through the fabric as he watches your needy expression morph into frustration. You shift, spreading your legs wider, but he stops you with a large hand on each thigh. 

“Hold still,” he orders, and you feel compelled to listen. He pulls your underwear down and off of you, then hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, spreading your cunt open. “That’s better.” 

You can’t tell if he’s talking to himself or to you. You don’t have a chance to ask before he’s burying his face into your soft, wet pussy. Your breath hitches at the sensation and one of your hands flies out to grab at the door frame to steady you, while the other one digs into Oberyn’s hair. 

He’s unbothered by your dramatics. Oberyn moves with enthusiasm, drawing his tongue along your slit and pressing into your sex with his jaw. His facial hair tickles at your tender skin deliciously and his nose grazes over your clit as if his face were molded to maximize your pleasure. He changes his strategy, mouthing at your clit and sweeping his tongue over it like he’s making out with it, with the same passion that he kissed you with outside and a moment ago. 

You can feel it starting to build. Your hip flexors straining and thighs starting to tremble as your breathing gets quicker and more shallow. Closer and closer and closer. He’s perceptive and diligent. Repeating the same tricks that make you moan and dig your fingers into his hair. 

You’re stuck on the precipice, so close but not quite there. Your eyes roam around the dimly lit room, the bed, the bookshelf, the tapestry pinned to the wall, the collection of cologne bottles lined up on the desk, the mirror on top of the desk–pointing right at the bed. 

It starts to frustrate you. Not the decor choices, but the tension and the building pressure. You squirm slightly, hoping the smallest adjustment will somehow bring everything into a sharper focus. You let your eyes close, letting the roar of the party downstairs fade, focusing on the pressure and warmth of Oberyn’s mouth. 

More, more, more. 

It’s all you can think as Oberyn stays dedicated to getting you off on his tongue. He sucks firmly at your clit before releasing you with a slick sound. He hovers, mouth fanning warm air over your core looking up at you. His eyes are lit with hunger.  

“More?” he asks in his deep, rich voice. 

You can’t tell if you were chanting out loud or if he’s somehow reading your mind. “Please,” you respond with a needy edge, “more.” You catch the sparkle in his eye and the flash of a grin. He works you up again, towards the brink, relishing in your responses as you whine with need as he resumes holding you in a purgatory of pleasure.

Mercifully, he does give you more. Oberyn grips your thigh with one hand, steadying you, while he swipes two fingers along the length of your pussy once, twice, coating them in your arousal before plunging them inside of you. The increased pressure and friction from his fingers pumping into you causes you to moan. It’s a lower register than your breathy panting from earlier, layered with satisfaction as you can feel the anticipation starting to crest. 

“Don’t stop,” you beg, “I’m so close.” 

He doesn’t stop, groaning at your words, rumbling against you. That snaps the tension and you cry out his name and a string of curses as your orgasm hits. He doesn’t slow down when your cunt contracts around his fingers and he doesn’t lose focus when you shake and writhe against mouth. Not until you’re pulling him off of you, oversensitive and wrung out.  

Oberyn stands, wiping at his chin before pulling you in close for another breathtaking kiss. He walks you back toward the bed and you fall into it, pulling him with you. You tangle together, frantically, you want him inside of you now. He laughs softly against your hot neck, sensing your frustration. 

“Shh,” he murmurs as you huff with defeat. He moves deftly, braced over you with one arm, and freeing his cock with the other. Your hands stroke up and down his shoulders and back, and you hook one leg around his hip, encouraging him. “You want me to fuck you now?” he asks and you whisper a yes that turns into a gasp as he runs his tip through your soaked center. “And how do you want it?”

“Hard.” 

“Yeah,” he agrees, sinking into you deeper and deeper, and pulling back, all the way out, then all the way in. “Fuck,” he says to himself as he sets a quick pace, slaming his hips into yours making the bedframe creak with every thrust. If the noise from the party didn’t drown everything else out, you might be embarrassed to have strangers over hear, but you would be surprised if anyone could hear a thing. And, even if you were louder than the party, you could care less about being caught as Oberyn fucks you into the mattress. 

“Harder,” you goad him, hoping for more. To your horror he pulls out of you completely, but you swiftly find yourself flipped onto your stomach as he lifts your hips and enters you from behind. You press back, meeting his thrusts, bouncing off of his hips until he presses his palm between your shoulder blades. He forces your chest into the mattress, holding you still so he can fuck you like he means it, with enough force that all you can do brace yourself and ball your fists, twisting the bedding between your fingers. 

With your cheek against the bed you can watch your reflection in the mirror. It’s hot, even with your togas draped and bunched up, you look good together. It makes you grin. He catches you looking and turns, meeting your eyes in the mirror before watching your bodies. He grips your hips firmly and you can barely keep your eyes open to watch as he continues. 

He overwhelms you with his stamina, keeping up a pace that has your mind feeling blissfully fuzzy. He says something else before folding over you and slipping his hand around towards your clit, determined to feel you come around his cock. You’re so close already, it’s only a moment, a few more thrusts, before shuddering beneath him. He tries to fuck you through it, but you clench and constrict around him so tightly that he pulls out while you’re still moaning. 

You can hear the slick wet sounds as he strokes himself, cursing under his breath again, before you feel the warmth as he comes across the swell of your ass and your fluttering cunt. You sink, dropping your hips and relaxing onto the bed while he catches his breath. Oberyn squeezes at your thighs, offering praise you don’t quite hear, then he’s slipping off the bed. He cleans you up with a towel, but you remain still for a little longer, enjoying the satisfaction and the sweet ache from the intensity. 

“Take your time,” he tells you, leaning down to press a kiss to your shoulder. It’s gentle. You murmur a thanks at him before breaking into an airy giggle. It makes your ribcage shake, bouncing slightly on the mattress, realizing that Liv is going to die when you tell her you can confirm her roommates story. Oberyn doesn’t question your reaction. 

He pauses to readjust his toga and his hair in the mirror. Once seemingly satisfied, he turns back towards you, watching you sit up. “I’ll see you out there,” he says with a smile before he slips out of the room. 

You linger for just a little. Allowing yourself the privacy to revel in the sweet satisfaction of the post-sex chemicals flowing through your body. You let yourself grin while you check your phone to see where Liv is at. 

You take another minute, using the mirror to fix your own appearance, aiming for a slightly less obvious version of I just got railed, before meeting your own eyes. For a sobering second you remember you didn’t get a real answer about if he has a girlfriend. He sure as fuck doesn’t act like it, you decide. You shake off the thought. 

He might be a frat bro, he might be a piece of shit, all you know for sure is that he is hot, a good kisser, and he knew how to make you come. Three things you didn’t think you’d find in one guy under this roof. You give yourself a final onceover before heading out of the room and down the stairs. 

You don’t see Oberyn in the first few rooms you pass. You keep looking; he couldn’t have gone far. You’re barely finished that thought when you spot him in the kitchen. The sight makes you stumble, shooting a hand out to the wall to catch your balance. 

He’s leaning casually, with his hip against the counter, as a starry-eyed girl looks up at him, giggling flirtatiously, as she lays a hand along his bicep. 

It’s in slow motion. The way he looks at her hand, the way his eyes trail along her arm, over the curve of her breasts, and down her legs before flitting back to her face with that same sinful smirk you just fell for. 

Your shoulders drop. It’s not like you were planning your wedding or that you even thought a date was on the table—but you didn’t think he’d be on to the next girl before you made it down the stairs. 

You start to recenter yourself, reaching to check your phone again before you look for Liv. 

He sees you before you can mind your business and plan your next move. Catching your eye through the doorway. Before you can formulate a reaction, you’re stuck, held in his gaze. He winks at you again, only this time there’s no question if you were making it up. He winked at you and despite everything, it makes your whole body tingle. 

“I saw that!” Liv shouts into your ear, wrapping an arm around you. “You have to tell me what the fuck that was about. But first can we please get pancakes or cheese fries?”

You don’t bother turning back for a second glance as you follow Liv toward the front door. 

You must understand though the touch of your hand

Makes my pulse react

That it's only the thrill of boy meeting girl

Opposites attract

It's physical

Only logical

You must try to ignore that it means more than that

Oh, oh, oh

What's love got to do, got to do with it?

…..

tags for babes, but no presh:

@lovely-vamp-princess

@gothcsz

@auteurdelabre

@adoreyouusugar

@swankyorange

@itwasntimethatdidit40

@ivoryandflame

@magneticecstasy 

[guiltyasdave]

delicate

pairing: modern!Oberyn Martell x f!reader

word count: ~3.9k

summary: You meet a mysterious man at a club. He's just as attracted to you as you are to him.

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), alcohol consumption, able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, very soft dom!Oberyn, protected p in v (who am I), dirty talk, fingering, anal play (m receiving), a hint of angst, romance because I can't help myself

a/n: written for @dancingtotuyo’s on repeat drabble challenge, based on the song delicate by taylor swift. this is honestly just feral, i have nothing to say for myself.

dividers as always by @saradika-graphics <3

find my full masterlist here and follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates!

Lights are flashing, colors dancing over the exposed skin of your arms and shoulders; the bass is pumping, making your whole body feel like it’s vibrating from within. You’re clinging to your friend, your arms intertwined as you navigate your way through the crowd of people to the bar.

You first see him as you’re gulping down your drink, welcoming the cool liquid in your parched throat. Your eyes are observing the crowd, flying over him and then flickering back to take a second glance. 

He’s gorgeous, his dark hair a mess, a beard framing his face, his skin shining under the lights. He’s wearing a shirt that flows around his body, threads of gold weaving through the fabric and reflecting the dancing lights. It’s almost entirely undone, giving you a generous look at the expanse of his toned chest, at the sun-kissed skin that you feel a sudden urge to run your fingers over. A massive gold chain with a lock hangs around his neck, an accessory that you’re convinced would look absolutely ridiculous on anyone else. But on him, it somehow only accentuates the strong cords of muscle that ripple under his skin in a way that makes you want to lick your lips. 

He moves with a confident ease, his body in tune with the stomping beats, his whole being exuding an almost cocky self-assuredness. You keep drinking him in, fascinated in a way that you can barely understand. You realize that you’ve been staring when your friend follows your line of sight and you hear her quiet gasp beside you. 

“Haven’t seen that one around before,” her voice floats into your ear over the music and you shake your head in silent agreement. You’d definitely remember if you did. 

You both watch him move with the body of a woman next to him, watch him bend down to whisper something into her ear, watch the way his lips curl into a smug grin as she grinds against him in reaction to his words. 

“Too late, I guess,” you laugh, downing the rest of your drink and tearing your eyes away. 

The two of you head back into the crowd, swaying your bodies to the beat. You try to get lost in the feeling of it, but your eyes keep searching for him, hungrily grasping at the glimpses of him that you can spot. Eventually, you watch the retreating backs of both of him and the woman head toward the exit, their bodies closely intertwined. Like you said, you try to shrug it off, too late. It’s not a big deal, there’s more than enough other guys around you. 

But you don’t go home with any of those guys, none of them able to catch your interest the way he did, and when you lie in bed in the early morning hours, your head pleasantly buzzing with the remaining alcohol in your bloodstream, you still see him behind your eyelids. 

A few weeks go by and while you hope to catch him every time that you’re out, there’s no trace of him. It isn’t until your friend’s birthday celebration, a tradition that the two of you have kept up for years, that you see him again. 

Again, you’re leaning against the bar, your eyes aimlessly drifting over the dancefloor while you’re sipping on your drink, when you spot him. He’s wearing another colorful shirt, his chest almost entirely on display, and he’s shamelessly grinding against another young man as they’re both moving to the beat. You can’t tear your eyes away, apparently staring so intently that he catches you and throws you a wink across the room. 

You feel heat rising in your cheeks and almost turn away, but he’s already on his way, moving towards you with a cat-like grace, effortlessly weaving through the crowd of moving bodies. 

“Hey,” he says, leaning into you so close that his breath fans hot against your ear, causing goosebumps to rise on your neck. “Saw something you like?” 

You grin at him over the rim of your cup, biting your lip and nodding. He mirrors your grin, an almost predatory glint in his eyes. He’s even more gorgeous up close, a light sheen of sweat on his face and his eyes a smoldering brown, his dark hair a mess with strands sticking to his forehead. You take in his toned chest, his broad shoulders and you desperately want to touch your hands to his golden skin. A foreign accent is lacing his words in the most delicious way, only adding to the pull that you feel towards him. 

“Let me buy you another drink,” he purrs and you accept, thanking him and offering him your name. You relish in the way you have to lean into him so that he can hear you, greedily soaking in his scent and his body heat that make your mouth water. 

His name is Oberyn, you learn, a name that sounds foreign on your tongue and you could swear that a quiet growl rises up his throat when you repeat it back to him. 

You’d love to spend your evening dancing with him, pressing your body against his, find out if moving with him feels as good as it looks from the outside. But it’s your friend’s birthday, and you’re gonna stick together, dance the night away with each other and no one else, the way you do every year. 

He shrugs it off when you tell him as much, an unbothered grin on his face as he promises you another time then. His hand wraps around your wrist, the warmth of it sinking into your skin as he pulls your arm out towards him, a black marker suddenly in his other hand. 

“What are you–” you begin to ask, but your voice dies at the sight of him pulling the cap off with his teeth, something that really shouldn’t affect you this much. 

He bends over your arm and it takes your hazy mind a moment to register that he’s writing numbers onto your skin. You’re getting lost in the feeling of his hand on you, even in such an innocent place, and your thoughts are already jumping to fantasies of how it would feel trailing up your arm and over your body. 

“There,” his voice floats into your ear and you almost jump. The smug look on his face leaves no doubt that he knows exactly what kind of effect he has on you. He leans in close again, so close that you can feel his breath on your skin. Your mouth feels dry. 

You look down at your arm, now adorned with digits in black ink. A phone number. 

“Give me a call,” he smirks, and leans in even closer, until his lips move against the shell of your ear and a shudder runs down your back at the sensation. “Just think of the fun things we could do.” He throws you another wink and slides away from you, back into the crowd. 

You text him the next day, worried if it’s too soon, if it makes you seem desperate. Then again, you have to admit to yourself, you are desperate. Desperate to hear his voice again, desperate to feel his hands on you again. Texting him is less awkward than you had hoped, his demeanor putting you at ease almost immediately. You catch yourself smiling at the screen, already down bad for this man. 

You’re in bed, struggling to calm down enough to sleep when your phone’s screen lights up the darkness of your bedroom from where it’s lying on your nightstand. 

He’s asking you to meet him in a dive bar, right now, if you want to. You’re reluctant at first, once again worried to appear too eager, but the almost magnetic pull that you feel towards him eventually leads you out of your apartment and to the address he sent you. 

He’s waiting for you in the back, just like he told you. Wearing dark jeans and a white t-shirt, the fabric stretching around his broad chest in a way that makes it hard not to stare, dressed much more casually than you’ve come to know from him. It doesn’t take away from his persona one bit, he’s still exuding that energy that seems to let him command every room he’s in, that makes it so hard for you to resist him. 

He buys you a drink and pulls you into a corner booth with him. Talking to him is easy, he’s an attentive listener and his quick remarks make you laugh, leaning into him when you do. You learn that he’s not from around here, that he flew in to visit friends but that he’s thinking about moving here permanently. It almost scares you, how giddy that prospect makes you, the idea of having the chance to keep seeing him. His arm finds its way around your shoulders eventually, his fingers drawing shapes over your skin. The innocent contact makes you feel like a teenager, suddenly sixteen again. 

He walks you home later, his arm still wrapped around you, pulling you into his side. It feels good, a sense of safety and intimacy that you feel yourself getting lost in. You had thought that he was hot, that he would be a fun hookup, but as the minutes tick on, you realize how much you already like him. How much you want this feeling to last. 

It feels so natural, turning around to face him when you reach your building, both of you leaning in simultaneously until your lips meet, like it’s the only possible way for this evening to end. You think that it is. 

Kissing him feels even better than you had envisioned in your mind, and you melt against him, one hand braced against his chest while the other comes up to pull at the hair in the nape of his neck, needing him closer, not ready to let him go. He’s cupping your face in both hands, his thumbs caressing your cheeks, and you feel him smile against your lips. You lick into his mouth, revel in the groan that rumbles deep in his chest. 

You don’t let go of him, holding onto his hand when you pull him up the stairs, soak in the feeling of him pressed against your body when you unlock your apartment door, let him connect his lips with yours again when he walks you backwards down your hallway.

Everything about him feels so right, so safe and yet like the most exciting experience you’ve ever had. You breathe him in, ecstatic with the sensation of his broad form against you, with the way you feel his muscles move under your fingers where you’re grabbing at his shoulders.

He lets you lead him into your bedroom, his hands still all over you. You push him down to sit on the edge of your bed and he follows your lead, sinking down on the mattress with an easy grin on his face, regarding you with hooded eyes. He wraps his hands around your waist as you’re standing in front of him and he pulls you closer. His fingers find their way below the hem of your skirt, dancing over the supple skin of your thighs, slowly inching up higher. 

You whine, already squirming under his touch, and his grin widens. 

“So soft,” he coos up at you, tightening his grip on your thighs and moving you to straddle him, your legs already spread wide to accommodate the thickness of his thighs beneath you. One hand comes up to cradle your face again, his thumb nudging at your lips and you flick your tongue against the digit, making him chuckle. 

“And so pretty,” he continues, leaning in to connect your lips once more. You want to melt into him, let him consume every fiber of your being. 

Your hands tug at his t-shirt, pulling it up, desperate to satisfy the need to be closer to him, to feel his bare skin against yours. He helps you, lifting the fabric over his head. You’ve seen most of his chest before, but not like this, not revealed just for you, in the dim light of your bedroom, yours to look at, yours to touch. He somehow seems even broader without clothes on and you’re almost transfixed by the thick cords of muscle of his arms and shoulders that are on display for you now. 

He chuckles again, placing another kiss at the corner of your lips. 

“You alright, princess?” 

“Yeah,” you murmur, feeling breathless, overwhelmed with how much you want him. 

His hands splay over your thighs, fingertips dipping beneath your skirt again, slowly, teasingly skating higher. 

“Take this off for me.” It’s phrased like an order, but it’s still so soft, not leaving a doubt in your mind that you could say no if you wanted to. But you don’t. You want him to see you, want to feel his eyes on you, want to have this hungry look that’s trained on your face burning all over your body. 

He groans when you obey, a deep, rumbling sound that goes straight to your core and you know that he feels your thighs clenching on top of his. His mouth is on your bare skin within seconds, kissing and sucking, his tongue moving against you like he’s going to devour you. 

You arch against him with a whine when he circles your nipple, first with his fingers and then with his tongue before sucking the sensitive bud between his lips. It’s all encompassing, the wetness of his mouth, the strong grip of his hands, the heat of his chest seeping into your skin where you’re pressing yourself against him. 

“Please, Oberyn,” you whimper, not even sure what you’re asking for, just knowing that you need more. His responding moan sends vibrations from his mouth straight through you, before his fingers dig into your waist and he flips you over, until your back is resting on your sheets and he’s hovering over you, your thighs still spread wide around him. 

The image alone is enough to send another wave of arousal through you, the way he looks just as wrecked as you feel. His large hands spread your thighs wider as he leans back, his eyes trained on your panties, where you know the fabric must be soaked already. 

“So pretty,” he mumbles again, more to himself than to you. His eyes fly back up to meet yours, almost black, his pupils blown wide. “Can I take these off?” He dips a finger under the lace covering your hip, pulling it away and letting it snap against your skin. 

“Please.” You don’t care how desperate you sound, not when he looks up at you with the most sinful smirk on his face. His hands grasp the fabric and you lift your hips to help him pull it down, but his smirk widens as he tears the lace in half, ripping the shreds off of your body. 

“Fuck,” you whine, not a single thought wasted on the fact that those were some of your favorite panties, every part of you focused on how badly you want his hands all over you. 

His eyes stay focused on your expression, eagerly drinking in your every reaction as his fingers dip between your legs, so close to where you so desperately need him. He groans when he feels the wetness seeping from your folds, swirling his digits through it before reaching your clit. He’s ghosting over the sensitive nub with barely any pressure, but it’s enough to elicit a moan from you, your hips canting up to follow his touch. You’re distantly aware of the pleas that are falling from your lips, giving way to a loud whine when he finally sinks two thick fingers into your heat. 

He thrusts into you, curling them just right, and his name tumbles out of your mouth again, laced with pure need. You watch in fascination when he sucks his slick-coated fingers into his mouth, eyes still trained on your face, a rumble forming in his chest at the taste. 

“Tastes so sweet, princess.”

Your thighs fall open wider, shamelessly offering yourself to him, to his eyes, his hands. You reach out, grabbing at his waist, the need to feel all of him nearly overwhelming. His fingers intertwine with yours, pulling your hands away from his body. He lifts them up to his mouth and presses soft kisses against your knuckles, a whisper of patience on his lips before he lets go of you and rises up to rid himself of his jeans. 

Your eyes widen at the sight of him, a needy sigh escaping you when you think about feeling him inside you, about the way he’s gonna stretch your walls. You sit up, eagerly reaching for him again. Your fingers wrap around his cock, mesmerized by his girth, and he hisses when you move your hand over his length. 

You hear the crinkle of plastic and then his hand is on yours, gently tugging it away, much too soon for your liking. You watch as he puts the condom on with practiced ease, the sight of his own hands on his cock enough to send another wave of arousal through you. 

He’s back on you before you know it, sliding in between your spread legs, his large hands splayed over your upper thighs, pushing them further apart. His eyes are trained on your weeping pussy, a hungry darkness in them. You whine when he rubs his cock through your wetness before tapping against your clit.

“You want this?” he asks, his voice husky. 

“Please, Oberyn.” Your desperate plea breaks off into a filthy moan when he sheathes himself inside of you, breaching your tight walls with the most delicious sting, and you feel your eyes rolling back into your head. 

Pleasure grows inside of you as he starts to move, slamming into your pussy in a forceful rhythm. You feel so full of him, the sensation almost overwhelming as he hits the perfect spot over and over. The wave inside of you crests so suddenly that you barely realize what’s happening, the need that you’ve felt brewing all evening finally reaching its peak. 

You gasp his name, nails pressing into his shoulders as he fucks you through it, until you’re a trembling mess beneath him. He slows, moving in and out of you with shallow thrusts, his lips on yours once more. 

You stay like that for a moment, arms wrapped around him, holding him close while you bask in the bliss that you’ve just experienced. But his continuous movements have the hunger for more growing inside of you once more. You meet his thrusts with your hips, needy to feel him deeper again. He props himself up, and it’s sinful how good he looks, his face glowing, a sheen of sweat on his skin. 

You suck one of your fingers into your mouth, eyes wide and holding his gaze, feigning innocence. He watches you, a curious glint in his eyes, as you trail your hands from his shoulders down his back until you reach his ass and pull him further into you, fingernails digging into his flesh. 

You let your saliva-covered finger reach further, gently massaging the puckered ring of muscle and he gasps, thrusting into you with so much force that it jostles your whole body and you cry out, the sensation of him so deep inside you a heady mix of pleasure and pain. 

“Fuck,” he grits between his teeth as you keep up your ministrations, delighted to have this effect on him. “Fuck, princess, just like that…” 

You bite your lip, grinning up at him. “Do the girls back home touch you like I do?” 

He breathes out a laugh and shakes his head, his movements never faltering as he gathers your wrists in his hands and pins them down on the mattress beside your head. 

“No. And you’re gonna make me come if you keep this up, but I’m not finished with you yet,” he purrs, leaning down and sucking bruising kisses into the soft skin of your throat, the scratch of his beard only adding to the sensation. You free one of your hands from his grip to tug at his hair, your fingers burrowing in the soft strands at his neck and scratching against his scalp. 

“You can give me one more, can’t you?” His voice in your ear makes you shiver and you nod, a breathless please on your lips. 

“Good girl.” His kiss is soft against your cheek before he pulls away, his thrusts speeding up, as he grabs your hips, holding them up, giving you no choice but to take him. “Touch yourself,” he demands, the tendons in his neck straining with exertion. 

Your fingers are on your clit within moments, rubbing against it, slick with your arousal. The coil inside you tightens again, desperate for release once more. 

“Give it to me princess, come on.” His voice sounds wrecked, and it’s the thing that makes you leap over the edge a second time, stars exploding behind your eyelids as you pulse around him, pure pleasure soaring through you. 

He comes to a stuttering halt, hips pressed flush against yours, and his groans are almost enough to make you want to come again. He falls forward, forehead pressed against yours, and you share a lazy smile. 

You think that he really is the most beautiful person that you’ve ever met.

You fell asleep curled against him, your head resting on his chest and soaking up his warmth, with his arm around your shoulder, but when you blink awake to soft morning light falling through your curtains, you are alone. You roll onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. You’ve seen him at the club, he’s probably in a different bed almost every night, you shouldn’t be surprised that he snuck out of yours in the morning. And you sure as hell shouldn’t be disappointed. 

You get up with a sigh, pulling a t-shirt over your head and padding down the hall to the kitchen. You come to an abrupt halt in the doorway, met with a sight that you hadn’t expected. He’s standing in front of your open fridge, the expanse of his back bare and turned towards you. There’s a swoop of excitement in your stomach.

You exhale loudly and he turns towards you, an easy smile on his lips. “Good morning.” His voice sounds raspier, still thick with sleep. 

“Hey,” you say, returning his smile. He closes the distance between you and cups your face, the sensation of his thumb against your cheek already a familiar one. His lips find yours and you get lost in the feeling of it, in the fantasy of this being your every morning, in pretending that he’s yours. 

When he pulls away, the words are out of your mouth before your mind is able to catch up.

“I think I really like you.” 

You want to bite your tongue immediately, to take them back. Too early, the voice in your head screams. Your eyes widen as you search for something else to say, but he doesn’t waver, still regarding you with that relaxed smile on his handsome face.

“Is– is it okay that I said that?” 

He hums, his large hand still on your cheek. 

“I think I really like you too.”

as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider putting a smile on my face by reblogging, commenting or sending in an ask <3 thank you for reading!

[absurdthirst]

Kinktober 2024: October 2nd

Day 2: Piercing // Double Penetration // Voyeurism

Oberyn Martell x F!Reader x Marcus Acacius

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Threesomes, oil as lube, unprotected sex, double penetrations, two cocks/one hole, mentions of pleasurable pain, mentions of bisexuality, cream pie

|| Kinktober List || 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.

It is not often that Oberyn Martell is surprised. He has seen things, experienced things along his travels. Riding with the Second Sons and brawling in the fighting pits of Mereen. A Prince of Dorne, he has done as he pleased and as a result, he has carved out a reputation as the Red Viper and not limited himself on the pleasures of the flesh. 

Setting his cup down, he leans forward, his eyes disbelieving and he shakes his head. “You have never shared a woman?” He demands. “Or a man? It is possible if the man in question is experienced enough.” He huffs and continues on. “Truly? You did not have a whore suck your cock while she was plowed by another? Or shared her tight cunt, stretched over both of your cocks?” His voice is dripping with disbelief and awe that such a pleasure would be denied to the general in front of him. “Or perhaps a cock in her ass and another in her cunt? None of those pleasures have been bestowed upon you?”

The strong, sweet Dornish wine nearly goes up his nose as Marcus Acacius chokes at the blunt way of speaking that the prince has. He has discovered that this man, royalty, is plain speaking and can be biting if provoked, his wit sharp and his dagger sharper. From what he has found since arriving in the seat of the territory of Dorne, he has found all of its people to be bold and brash in a way that makes him envious. 

“No.” He shakes his head and sets the cup down on the table that he is seated at with the prince. Answering the questions that he has and asking his own of this realm that seems so different from Rome. “There were orgies, but I- I was often training with the men.” He explains. “I did not attend many events.”

That makes Oberyn snort and shake his head, his other hand stroking your thigh idly as you lounge on his lap. “He didn’t attend the orgies, Dove.” He murmurs to you, glancing at your lips and leaning in to steal a kiss simply because the urge takes him. 

Marcus shifts, glancing away from the moment because it seems that the prince has no qualms about showcasing his affection for you in front of anyone. He’s not immune to attraction, he’s had his own share of women and a few men, but it was always just a singular encounter. 

You know what Oberyn is thinking the second that his hand slides under your thin, silky dress. Bare underneath and already wet for him as his fingers dance up your thighs as his tongue slides against yours. Used to the way his mind works and the way that he will demand that pleasures be explored. Cupping his cheeks, you pull back from the kiss to peck his lips and turn to look at the general as he stares at the banner that hangs on the wall behind the table. The banner of house Martell. 

“He is handsome.” You concede playfully, giving voice to the thoughts that are mirroring his own. You know that Oberyn is attracted to the other man, even if he is older than Oberyn himself. Your finger runs down the edge of Oberyn’s jaw as Marcus’s head snaps back towards you, his eyes wide when he hears your words. “I would not mind taking his cock.” 

You talk about him as if he wasn’t there. Boldly and bluntly, just like the man you are seated on. Noticing that Oberyn’s fingers are drawing your dress up, he quickly glances away and tries to ignore the low chuckle of amusement. 

"What about both of us, Dove?” He nearly chokes again when he hears the question and underneath the soft linen tunic he is wearing, his cock twitches despite his shock. 

You tut, leaning in and kissing the bare skin above the thin line of hair that frames his jaw. “As if I would have it any other way, lover.” You huff, moving back and nipping his ear with your teeth to make him hiss. Your eyes watch Marcus and you smirk when he doesn’t look outraged at the prospect. 

“A cunt is a glorious thing.” Oberyn reaches down and taps your thigh with the hand that is not pushing your dress up and you obliged him, spreading your legs so that the general can see your cunt. “It stretches to birth our children,” he coos, slowly stroking your folds and you watch as the general’s eyes are very closely following his movements. “You do not think that your cock will fit with mine?”

His mouth is dry and he gulps down a swallow of the wine, nearly slamming the cup down and he clears his throat. “I had not thought of it in that way. He admits, licking his lips and finding himself more than intrigued by how it would feel. 

The prince smirks and leans in to kiss your jaw below your ear. “Go make sure his cock is hard enough for you to sink down on.” He tells you, pulling his hand away and letting you stand to move over to the other man. 

This is happening. Marcus watches you and there is little smugness in his stature as he opens his arms for you to straddle him. His cock will not be a problem, already hard and starting to lift the folds of his tunic when you lean in to kiss him. You are a beautiful woman after all.

He's not shy about kissing you once your lips are pressed together. You know that the general would not be untried but it is thrilling to know that he can take command like your lover. It will make an interesting combination. 

His hands are surprisingly greedy as he pulls your thin dress off your body. The sword calloused hands scraping deliciously on your skin as he palms your tits and then your ass. 

You know your lover is watching, he enjoys watching you when you want pleasure with another. 

His tunic is easily removed and you enjoy the differences between the men you will have tonight. Marcus is broader, fuller in his chest and arms than your Red Viper. Both men are strong, deadly, but in contrasting ways. If you think of Oberyn as a spear, then Marcus would be a battering ram. 

You are wet enough that it is easy to sink down onto the thick cock of the Roman general. Making him moan into your mouth and his hips jerk up, pushing deeper until he is buried deep. Oberyn hums behind you, the shuffling of fabric telling of his own clothes being removed and you turn to find him with a hand around his cock as he slowly strokes himself. 

“Are you- sure you can take both of us?” Marcus pants, his own eyes fixed on the prince’s cock and feeling slightly doubtful since he knows his own is just as impressive. “Will it not hurt?”

Your eyes flutter slightly and your walls tighten around his cock as you think about it. “Some hurt feels good.” You admit breathlessly, “the pinch of pain will be far outweighed by the pleasure.” 

The scented oil that Oberyn keeps on his belt is used, applied to his cock and you smile when you hear the slickness of it. “The prince will make sure that it is good.” You coo to Marcus. “That oil helps, much better than spit.” Turning your head, you nip his earlobe with your teeth, making him moan again. 

Marcus holds you waist, waiting to be instructed as Oberyn moves behind you. Your prince caresses your ass and reaches down, his hand cupping the balls of the other man and the root of his cock, chuckling when he groans loudly and twitches inside you. 

“He will be good in our bed.” Oberyn kisses your shoulder, letting go of Marcus to turn your head towards his for a kiss. Tender and brief before he is leaning in and pressing his chest against your back, his hips shuffling closer. 

Marcus can do nothing more than to hold you still, almost breathless as he feels the head of the other man’s cock slide against the base of his shaft and press against it. He’s had a cock pressed against his before, but this is different, his cock already being tightly held by your cunt gives this a new sensation. 

“Let me in, Dove.” Oberyn coos, caressing your back as he adjusts slightly, finding the perfect position to push the head of his cock inside you. 

Moaning, you lean into Marcus’s chest, already breathing heavily as Oberyn rocks his hips shallowly, slowly letting the head slip inside you before he groans your name. “She is tighter now, no?” Oberyn chuckles at the way the general’s eyes seem to glaze over in passion, his fingers digging into your hips to anchor you to his lap. 

It’s intense, there is no way that it could be anything but when you have two well endowed men occupying the same space inside your body. Every gasp and whimper of pleasure that comes from any of the three of you makes you wetter, your cunt gushing and dripping over their cocks. Adding Oberyn’s entrance and making it even more pleasurable as Marcus gets the added sensation of having his cock stroked without even moving. 

When his hips are flush against your ass, all of you moan. “She is- fuck-” Marcus groans, closing his eyes and his cock pulses inside you, already close to cumming. “It- I can’t-”

Oberyn chuckles breathlessly and reaches around you to caress the general’s cheek. “He is overwhelmed, Dove.” He coos, enjoying the wrecked look on the other man’s face. His own cock twitches inside you, eager to move. 

“Move.” You gasp out, your eyes slipping closed as you relax. “Both of you. I want to feel you.” You can feel Marcus’s thighs trembling, the unspent energy in his arms as he starts to lift you off his cock slowly as Oberyn pulls his hips back.

You whimper, feeling achingly empty as both men pull back to where just the tips of their cocks are inside you, only to make you yelp when they drive back into your body in unison. Oberyn growls and Marcus moans, each man taken with the feeling and your reaction to it. 

It seems to break something inside the Roman general, his lips finding yours in a passionate kiss while he starts to pump his hips up, driving his cock into you at a pace that steals your voice. 

You can tell he’s lost in the pleasure, the scrubbing of the two cocks against one another as the pace shifts to alternating thrusts, the constant friction that is aided by the oil and the slick of your cunt as it weeps in pleasure from their attention. Moans lift to the heavens and are breathed into your skin when he pulls away from your lips to bury his face into your breasts. 

Oberyn is never a passive lover, his hands stroke your body, cupping your tits as Marcus descends into them, his clever fingers teasing your nipples until you are moaning in ecstasy.

 The steady buildup is almost maddening as the angle of Marcus’s cock pierces something deep inside you and makes you beg for more. Every thrust feels like they are pushing into your stomach, stretching you out even more. They are using your cunt and you love it, the desperation in Marcus’s thrusts is matched by Oberyn’s, each man working towards their goal of pleasure and making you scream. 

Curses tumble from their lips and yours, everything forgotten but the way they feel buried inside you. Every time they pull their hips back, your body mourns the loss of the fullness but the perfect moment where both cocks are even inside you makes up for it. 

They push you higher, every thrust makes your body sing and light up in utter hedonistic bliss. “Marcus - Oberyn!” Your eyes roll back, body poised to be pulled apart by the next thrust while your core curls in on itself. Lighting up, your body heaves and bucks between theirs pressing into you. Keeping you in place while they rock into your cunt over and over again. The next cry is even louder, your cunt spasming around their lengths as you soak them in hot waves of slick. 

Marcus hisses, white hot pleasure racing up his spine as he drives his hips up. Giving over to the needs of his body as he manages to pump into your three or four more times before he is trying to bury himself deep into your cunt. 

Oberyn moans, feeling the heat of his spend filling you, coating both of their cocks as he continues to work in and out of your cunt. His teeth clenched together as he reaches down and swipes some of the other man’s seed mixed with your juices to taste. 

Groaning, his pace picks up, his hips slapping against your ass furiously to make up for the fact that the general is starting to soften inside you. “You enjoyed yourself.” He observes breathlessly, smirking at the other man’s relaxed and drained expression. Like he had just exhausted himself. You moan and clench down around them both again, making Oberyn moan your name. 

“Fuck yes.” Marcus chuckles, watching in awe as the prince continues to fuck you, his cock still sliding against his and making him twitch even though he is spent for the moment. It makes him wish he was younger and could harden again almost instantly. Finding the entire thing the most addictive and erotic thing that he’s ever done in his life. Enthralled when the prince stiffens, pushing deep and flooding your already filled cunt with another wave of hot cum. 

All of you pant, you lean against the general’s chest and listen to his heart beat as he reaches down and gathers the combined fluids from all of you, bringing them up to lick his own fingers clean with a groan. “What do you think of it now, Acacius?” Oberyn asks, grinning when you clench around them again. 

“I think we will need to do that again.” Marcus hums, grinning lazily and wondering what other pleasure he will find while he is in Dorne.

[hereforthehitsbaby]

I'm Not Interested | Oberyn Martell x F!Reader

Synopsis: Being a handmaiden meant you lived to serve, to make sure you were keeping the young queen safe. But when a certain golden fellow makes his way in from the South, he cannot help but to become infatuated with your aura. So many stories you have heard about the Prince of Dorne, how uninterested it made you. But would he be able to woo you?

Warnings: Language, Angst, M/F Sexual Situations, The Hatred the Reader Has For Oberyn is A S T R O N O M I C A L, Reader has the last name of Flowers since they are a bastard from The Reach,

Rating: M

Word Count: 7.3K

What is it with those who we cannot have that make life most difficult? Was it the fact that every time you lay your eyes upon them, you knew you cannot be with them? Or was it the fact that you have convinced yourself you should not care for this person, should not be with them, because they will not feel the same way? The constant back and forth can be very tiresome; What was the point of harboring such emotions if they could not be acted upon? Why must life be so damn complicated? Why must two different social classes not interact even though they can bring the greatest of pleasures and happiness? The gods from above were out to get us all, to make sure we cannot act upon such feelings in order to restore balance, power, and integrity within the seven kingdoms. But what would they think about those who did not harbor such feelings for the irresistible? The greatest challenge they would ever have to face, started with you.

Urges were something you had never given into, no matter how bad you needed to. You never really saw the necessity in pining after them if all they could bring would be heartache, fear and anger. It had to do with your upbringing, you attributed it to. Fearing the worst of all situations forced you to become cautious in your day to day - why live in multiple strides when you could comfortably follow one linear path? There would be no disruptions, you could predict everyday and know it would/could play out the same way. After all, was what fun about surprises? Knowing what to expect everyday had a better feel; You go to work, do your tasks and go home - simple enough at the end of the day. No big occurrences that could knock you off track, no distractions that could cause you to be beheaded - everything worked out perfectly in hindsight. What more out of life could you possible have asked for? Why did he need to be brought into the picture? Why was the world out to get you?

Growing up was not simple for you; Then again, neither was life. Westeros was suppose to be the land of opportunity, the country of new allegiances and fresh life - it was not suppose to be the end all, be all. Surely you didn't pick up on the evil and the carnage until you were much older, but growing up in Honeyholt was your solace - your home away from home. Though you had only spent a short amount of time there, it was nothing like you ever new before. Lush greenery and sweetened air flowed through your nostrils every time you woke up; Softened gaze of the sun rippling over your body like it was a kiss from the gods themselves. The Reach was one of the least problematic provinces of Westeros but, somehow there would always be evil that followed. Maybe it was just you after all, maybe the evil followed because you provoked it? Your first lick of the bad was when one of the river boys decided to kill your lovely hummingbirds by pelting them with rocks; Weirdo was a phrase they tossed at you like stale bread. But it was the rocks being pelted back at their heads that helped solidify the family you would have, love and cherish forever.

Margaery Tyrell was your saving grace that dreadful summer day, her brother Loras standing directly next to her. It was their sharp aim of the glistening rocks that caused your tears and sadness to turn to smiles and laughter - protecting you from the bullshit being thrown your way. The reason you were tormented in The Reach was due to being a bastard - born to a mother and father who were merely fifteen. They could not care for you, so they ushered you off to the nearest orphanage, leaving you without a house name but one that would be burned into your cranium. Flowers was a beautiful last name, elegant and soft but - when it revolved around those born out of lust, no one appreciated it. Still Margaery and Loras let you become one of their own, promising to bring you love and joy like you never knew before. It they had not saved you that day - you would have been stoned to death by those measly boys. But you never expected your life to take such a turn, shifting from anger and sadness to peace and serenity. The Tyrells were one of the only welcoming families in all of the Seven Kingdoms, well besides the Martells.

Due to how close you had gotten with Margaery over the course of sixty two nights, Mace Tyrell had appointed you the handmaiden for his young daughter. It came naturally being best friends with Margaery with her loving, sympathetic and feisty nature; You felt like a Tyrell one most days. Both of you were around the same age of 12 when you had been given the role, doing that even up into this very day. It came naturally to be in the princesses care, though she was not royalty at that age just yet. It was an ongoing dream you both had, being whisked away far away from Highgarden to enjoy the scenery of the world - hoping a loving Prince would make you his one day. Though it was a pipedream, it was one you chose to reminisce in. Those small daydreams started to diminish when Margaery was being whisked away to Renly Baratheon - promising to make her a Queen. You were so happy your best friend got to see the world, being in charge and love every minute of it - but deep down you wished it was you. Mace told you the second she was sauntered off to another realm, you would not longer be of service but, Lady Olenna and Margaery were always going to need you as the handmaiden.

You had been through it all with Queen Margaery, Renly's death - Joffery's death and now her marriage to Tommen. Poor girl had endured so much in so little time you were starting to feel for her, maybe it was the course of the Baratheon's everyone droned on about at times. Still being the one to comfort her through it all meant the world; You needed each other like fish needed water - two halves of a whole. She could not function without you and vice versa; No one could function without a great support system in King's Landing. With Cersei always making her rounds to check in on the both of you, always making quips about you being a bastard - both you and Margaery talked the biggest load of shit about her once she left. Then again that is what sister's do, they talk shit and laugh together. A gift from the gods above, a curse in the seven kingdoms. The optimism that Margaery held was one of the reasons that you became narrow to the world, living as a realist instead of in your sweetened fantasies. There was too much death shrouding for one to endure; You took the baggage on for her.

A stormy night in King's Landing was rare, only sunshine had made its way through the golden city. Standing on the balcony of the castle you watched how the rain trickled down softly in your chambers, how it rippled amongst blackwater bay in the most beautiful of ways. You were meant to be drawing a bath up for Margaery but, decided to let the water boil a bit more before letting her slip in. She loved a hot bath with her favorite citrus and clove oils, and on colder nights like this - it was heavily needed. Pulling your shawl tightly around your body you took a deep breath, letting the different spicy scents take over your senses. Warmth of the water and the cold from the rain were in heavy contrast - the one week you spent up in Winterfell with the Tyrells brought back so many memories like this - but at least Winterfell was welcoming and warm, not sticky and hateful like King's Landing. Hearing the gentle patters of feet on the cobblestone, you rushed over to the fireplace with your mitts, prancing the last of the boiling water over to the metal tub. As the final wash fell over you added the best part, fresh lilac and rose petals from the garden below - fresh cut by the Queen herself.

Standing back towards the fireplace, you watched the chamber door open but - reveal total darkness. Chewing on your bottom lip you felt the warmed presence of something else enter, causing your heart to shift into a flutter. There was a moment of total silence; The rain being drowned out by the racing in your ears, how your body shifted so quickly into fight mode. Candlelight could only take you so far to see - you were never particular on having more than a handful of candles lit at once, a hazard in itself plus the minimal lighting was better for you to sleep in. Slipping in through the open door was someone you never expected to see up this way, thinking he was down in the lower chambers, with six other companions. A black, almost black shawl draped over his shoulders was accompanied by brown pants; The strings pulled loose to show an incredible clean tuft of curls sitting at the base of his pelvis. Wandering eyes made their way up his lean torso, falling right onto his face - one you hated to admit was gorgeous. Generous auburn eyes glowed in the pale moonlight, his facial hair soft enough to scratch, making him purr. His hair, god that fucking short mane on top - how you were tempted to curl your fingers around every inch.

Ever since those from all Seven Kingdoms came to rejoice in the Purple Wedding, there had been one set of eyes permanently locking themselves onto you - watching your every move like it was the best entertainment yet. It all started when you first accompanied Margaery to the great hall for the ceremony, taking your place on her side in front. You stood facing your best friend with a wide smile, giving her some hope though she was to marry such a monster. Everyone in all of Westeros knew how much of a psychopath Joffery Baratheon was, if you could give Margaery a sliver of hope then you were going to. Distraction was prevalent during the ceremony when a warmed presence made its way behind you - boring into your soul. The bareness of your back in the lilac dress you wore had you able to feel every small lick of heat from dead set eyes. Before you could spin around to see the gaze wanting your attention so badly, a thick accented voice, low in nature appeared right in your ear, a heavy breath of wine and berries falling over your senses; "How long have you known the new Queen?" He asked, it was a genuine question from what you could tell. The urge to spin around and see exactly who you were talking to was high but, it would be frowned upon. Plus if your gaze was shifted elsewhere, Margaery would begin to panic.

"About ten years; Give or take," It was true, now that you both were close to your mid twenties now. When meeting at 12 years old you never expected your life to take such a turn like this, to now be standing only a few mere feet from the iron throne where your best friend was. In a way you only thought you were going to have tragedy and horrible memories to grow up with but, the Tyrell's changed your entire outlook on life. "Always her handmaiden, or more?" The same voice asked, goosebumps prickling your bare arms. His calloused, strong fingers began to stroke their way up your skin - reveling in how you gently shook at his touch. For this mystery man to have such an effect on you already was a sign of submission, something you were never going to give up easily. "She's my best friend," You sighed out, wanting to focus on the ceremony rather than another drunken fool who would try and have his way with you. Shrugging his touch off you held your hands together right in front of you, tilting your chin high with a sophisticated smile to your Queen. Deep down you did not want this man's touches to stop, or his sweetened words - you were hating how much you craved a total stranger; What spell did he cast on you?

"Hm, I am so sure of it. From the look you're giving her I can tell it's more than that," Honeyed words caused you to spin around effortlessly - cocking a wary eyebrow at the patron behind you. To not avail did you find him, just cautious eyes from each section of Westeros shooting you a glare. The heat on your face rose as you sighed out, turning back to the ceremony - now having Cersei Lannister shoot daggers in your direction. The familiar scent of wine and berries came back effortlessly once your eyes faced forward, sending a wave of heat through your nerves. "I'm sorry, who are you?" Your words barely came out above a whisper as you jaunted on, trying to put as much space as you could between yourself and this mystery man. Placing his body directly behind yours, he ghosted his hand over your waist - the heat causing your eyes to flutter shut for a split second, "Little canary, allow me to introduce mysel-"

"Sir, there is a wedding going on and I am not going to get in trouble due to you. Introductions can wait," You did not intend for the words to come in such a harsh manner as they did, it was the fact that Cersei and Jamie were staring at you as if they wanted you dead, you couldn't deal with that on what was suppose to be such a happy day. Before you could shuffle off towards the opposite side of the Great Hall, the hand ghosting over your body finally came into contact, a breathy moan escaping his lips before he began to speak; "Prince Oberyn Martell," He whispered into your ear, placing his hand flush against your waist - pulling you back to his chest. Resting your head against his forehead, you tried to keep your concentration focused primarily on the boring ceremony, the draping of cloth going forth now. But it was difficult when Oberyn's hands roamed your body like you were the last meal in all of the country, starving for your affection, your body, and soul. "Why don't we skip the dreadful event going on and, let me worship you. My paramour would take a quick liking to such a beauty as yourself."

His lips nipped at the soft spot behind your ear, causing a silent whimper to release from your lips. Fighting to keep your eyes opened Oberyn took the opportunity to slip his hand through the opening just below your breast, trailing his hot fingertips across your stomach - dipping lower, and lower until his reached the juncture of where your thigh met your pelvis. Shuttering at the feeling you could not help but think about his words, how he explicitly used the word paramour over wife. The Prince of Dorne; One who fucked everything and anything that could walk. Oberyn Martell was here, right behind you, touching you in such intimate ways as his lips trailed down to your neck. Biting at the supple flesh near your jaw, you felt the anger boil up in you that you were allowing this out in the open, for everyone to see; "Do I look like I'm from the pleasure houses?" The quip was quick, causing the Prince to laugh right into your ear - the assault his lips were having on your neck and jaw never stopped, trailing over to your shoulder instead. "No, you're more sophisticated than that; Feisty. You have a fire and spark I am dying to ravish."

Twirling around in his grasp, you pushed back a bit more to head towards the middle of the crowd. One of your hand was fixed on the back of his neck whilst the other was pressed firmly against his toned chest - both set of eyes peering in to one another. One of the most cocky smirks you have ever seen fell upon his Prince's lips - kissing the side of your mouth as he hiked your leg up around his waist, rolling his hips up into you. The broken moan leaving your lips made you flush, not wanting to give into his advances already. Moving your lips to press against the shell of his ear, you bite down harshly on his lobe, spitting your words out, "If you touch me again, I will break your fucking hand - Martell."

Tightening your hands into fists, you rolled your eyes as you sauntered back to the fireplace, using the poker to move around some of the burnt logs, "You're a long way from the brothels, Prince Oberyn." Shooting a glare at the man standing before you, you groaned as you focused on the amber flames - hoping they would take you away from this entire moment. In a way you were pleased to see Prince Oberyn again, but another was cursing you for feeling this type of way. Oberyn had a huge reputation across all of Westeros and Essos for being an intimate man; One who finds pleasure in all people. Nothing wrong with being sexually active, it was the fact that he could flirt with one and fuck another that made you feel sleazy, as if you were working around the corner at Little fingers establishments. There was a pride you had for not using sex to get to where you are, or what you wanted. Every now and again you did dabble but, it was nothing too exciting. A royal guard member here, a squire there - basic as men could come. "Ah but little canary, I am exactly where I need to be," The thick Dornish tang of Oberyn's accent caused goosebumps to rise on your skin - though you were fanning the flames. Silently you cursed yourself for having a wave of arousal pool in your heated center.

"No, you're not. Why have you come to my chambers?" It was a bit unethical to say the least for Margaery to bathe in your chambers, then again any chance she could get away from Joffrey she was taking. But she would never tell anyone that, she would never let out that she comes to your room for solace in the darkest hours on the mornings. Sucking your teeth whilst refusing to look at Oberyn, you put the fire poker down to add two more logs - breathing out in a ragged manner, "The Queen insisted I become acquainted with her lovely handmaiden." The words shot through your body like ice, freezing you from the inside out. There was no way Margaery would, even if she saw what Oberyn was doing to you earlier. Shaking your head you pounced to your feet, staring daggers into the man before you, silently cursing how you eyes ran up and down his beautiful physique. The urge to strike on him like a viper was strong, wanting to take the name for yourself. "Margaery would never, get lost," You sighed, rubbing the heel of your hand against tired eyes - setting the plush towels down to the side of the tub. Oberyn wasted no time rubbing the small of your back through your baby blue dress - letting the soft chiffon run over his fingertips.

"Aw, are you not enveloped by my charm?" You were, that was the sad part. A side of you wanted to submit in his grasp, let him pull anything he wanted from your body - but you could give him that pleasure. Straightening your back out, you shoved the Prince away from your body - making your way across the room to focus in on your desk chair, pulling your papers closer; Your quill only a few inches away. "Charm? You?" You spat in the direction of the Dornish Prince, watching how his mouth quirked into a hefty smirk. Following your steps over in front of your desk, he watched how you intricately started to write across the creased parchment, the story you had been working on for many moons now. It was one full of tradition revolving around Samhain; A foreign concept you were not well versed in but, it did not stop you from telling the spooky tale. Rolling your eyes as Oberyn comes to your side, you pushed your chair further to the left, cricking your neck to ease the ever-lasting tension; "Please." Oberyn was loving just how playfully snappy you are, loving to tease but hating to give him any/all satisfaction. With you it was like pulling teeth; Men like this never deserved your attention as Mace always said.

Breaking your concentration from writing was the feeling of his warm touch pulling at the strap of your dress, dipping it down enough to show the skin of your shoulder. Oberyn was quick on his feet, you had to give him that. Almost instantly his lips attached to your neck over the back of the chair, biting down on the pillowy skin. There was something so pleasurable about his plush lips but you could not give in, your hands tightening into fists whilst trying to contemplate your next move. "Such a delicate little thing, I wonder how wild you could be without your restraints," Oberyn hummed deeply, letting it ripple from his broad chest. Trailing his strong fingers down the front of your dress he wound up slinking his fingers across the swell of your breast, watching ever so gently for your reaction. He was a man of many passions but, he would never force you into anything you were not comfortable with. He was not going to let anything like that come about, killing anyone who dared do that to those he cared for. Whimpering at his words you managed to sling a sentence together, but not before he chuckled at your broken state, "I-I don't know what you mean - I do not have any restraints."

You did, and you knew that you did. It wasn't all of your fault, King's Landing made everyone stressed and tensed. Constantly dealing with the brutality and the bullshit being thrown your way caused you to develop thick skin; Beautiful personality lost in the brazen attitude of the Capital. Lamb to slaughter was the best way to describe how it felt to oppose the Baratheon's, the Lannister's and any house that was prevalent within the Red Keep. Leaning forth into Oberyn's touch, he hummed pleasantly against your neck, giving you the tentative stirs of his fingers against your nipples, "Oh but my little canary, you do. You carry the burden of life around with you like it was a badge of honor - that has made you so uptight." Hearing the truth fall from his lips caused your body to go rigid - the pleasure and sweet satisfaction he laced your body with just from a single touch dissipated. Slowly you craned your neck to stare up at him, trying to threaten him with only your eyes; Oh how bright they shone against the wet moonlight. Only a mere few inches from your face was the Prince, his eyes blackened due to bodily intoxication; "If looks could kill, I would have an honorable death," He winked, pushing himself away from you.

"Prince Oberyn, please leave my chambers immediately." It was getting out of hand this small game of cat and mouse, how he was chasing you with a pining sensation rather than fear. In those beautiful pants giving you little to imagine, you could see his taut backside pounding softly with every small step he took. Of course he noticed, it would be unlike him if he didn't. Slamming your open palms against the fresh oak desk, you rose quickly enough to show how serious you were. Daggers in your eyes and huffed breaths releasing in your wake made Oberyn's cock twitch - wanting to see you submit to him, release that hidden tension you were so adamant about not having. Waving off your excuse of madness, he let the hottest water of the bath ripple against his open palm - moaning at the sensation, "You need to relax, dear canary - sing for me. Come, join my bath," Oberyn pouted right in your direction - catching you with a meek smile. He waited, and waited, and waited for your loving response, knowing you were only moments away from fully cracking. But alas he was wrong, you would not submit without a fight; "No."

Shrugging your one word off as nothing, Oberyn began to hum as he let his shawl fall to the floor - pooling right behind him. His gaze never left yours as he pulled at the leather ties to his slacks, the softened leather outlining his thick cock deliciously. He was teasing you with every movement, not pulling his pants down right away but instead lowering them slowly. Each inch that he released caused the pool of arousal to grow between your legs - his shaft of his girthy length coming into full view. Under candlelight it was so tan, mostly from the nude bathing on the beach he loved to do, but his purple tip - begging to be sucked called your name; Your breath hitching in your throat. Winking at your shocked state, he finally let the pants pool on the floor with a loud groan - the colder air nipping at his bare skin. It did not take the Prince long to slip into the bath, sighing out heavily at the amazing feeling of the hot water on his skin. "Mmm, you made this perfect for me," his moan of appreciation opened the floodgates in your core, causing your legs to part slightly. What would he think if you dropped your dress and joined him? Would he welcome you with opened arms, or would he criticize you? Many thoughts of what you wanted this man to do to you flew through your mind, the dilemma was whether to act on them.

"You're an absolute nuisance, I will have the King's Guard escort you out," with the slam of your hands they came in contact with the wood again, causing Oberyn to jolt slightly in the water. Laughing at your remark he nodded, agreeing that he was a nuisance. He took great pride in knowing how much he pushed people beyond their limits, wanting them to see what life truly had to offer - what they should not be afraid of in hindsight. Life is all about adventure and new opportunity; Oberyn's mission was to make sure you felt the love and want that you deserve, that you craved from a young age. He knew what it was like to be unwanted, but never let that define him. Dorne is for lovers - he wanted every part of Westeros to see, feel, and hear it. Sinking further into the water of the golden tub, he deeply inhaled the beautiful clove scent, reminding him of Sunspear as he spoke, "When was the last time you were properly given the bounty of pleasure?" His face did not falter in the slightest, remaining strong and curious with a tightly pulled lip. Pondering your own expression wasn't hard to do in this lighting, but he could see the heat rising across your skin.

"Shut up-" you stopped yourself quick, not wanting to elaborate on what your mind was thinking. It had been a long, long time - before you even got to the Red Keep when you last experienced pleasure. The last person you ever let touch you in such an intimate setting was Podrick Payne, a chance encounter one night while Tyrion and Sansa were on some kind of retreat. Though it was one of the best sexual experiences, it was innocent with only fingers and mouths being of use. Nothing in between to really get your fancy going. Multiple nights you lulled yourself to sleep with the delicate touch of your own fingers inside your aching core - not thick or long enough to truly graze that one spongy spot. Now with Oberyn, you know that man could find that spot within seconds to have you see stars, to give yourself the beautiful release you were so desperately seeking. He would pull ripple upon ripple of your orgasm from you effortlessly, still begging you for more at the end of the day. That is all you have been craving since he touched you on the wedding day; "Ah, we must have a virgin in our midst."

It was a vicious slap back to reality, hearing such a skilled man call you a virgin. You were nowhere near that pure, losing yours within the last of your teenage years. The anger boiling over in your bloodstream was making you nervous at how badly you were going to snap at Oberyn. You didn't want to lose your cool with him, especially since you were starting to warm up to the idea of him pleasing you. But everyone in King's Landing made fun of you for being pure, uptight and a bitch - so it was like he was adding it the bullying deep within your mind. Pinpricks of tears latched themselves to your lashes as you tried to get them away, not wanting to cry in front of the Prince of Dorne. Rounding your desk you were like a bat out of hell, rushing over to the side of Oberyn as he laid in the tub, comfortable and at peace. Lowering your gaze to stare right at eye level, you let your vision go red before lashing out the harshest words you could muster, wanting them to burn, and sting; "I fucking hate you, Martell. You are one of those most bat shit fuckers I have ever laid my eyes upon, and one that is too slow on the dr-"

Before you could finish your sentence, Oberyn's wet hand came up quick from the hot water, slamming right against the juncture of your throat. Your knees buckled as they came into contact with the cold stone floor, your breath caught in his tight grasp. Bringing your hands up to grip at his wrist you saw the amused grin on his pouty lips, how his eyes slanted slightly to engage in your retort. Bringing your face closer to his, he let his fingers press down on your pulse point to cut the blood flow off - pounding of blood in your ears became deafening when he fanned his hot breath of your parted lips, "I'm what?" The words were calm, too calm for your liking. The fact that Oberyn did not bat an eye at what he was doing spoke measures; How he man handled you without a single thought to accompany it. Gods what you would give to slam yourself down onto his lap right now, but of course that would be too easy, you wanted him to submit. "T-Too slow on th-he dr-r-raw!" You managed to croak the words out with a playful smirk, but Oberyn was not having it. He moved so quickly to pin your face down against the side of the tub, letting some of the water splash against your chin and neck. Under your dress your thighs were trembling at the sudden surge of dominance; Your teeth putting your lip tightly.

"You grab a woman like a bitch in heat; Pathetic." This was not helping your case at all, with Oberyn tightening his grip around your neck as the harsh curl of the metal edge dug into your warm cheek. Wriggling against his restraint had you seeing stars, his warm hand in contrast with your cool skin - how you could feel every inch of his callouses from years and years of sparring. To be man handled by someone as experienced as Oberyn was what you needed - to give up control and order for a little bit just to feel, to embrace, and enjoy. Maybe it wouldn't be so difficult to call a quits now, let this man reign over you and let everything be where it needed. He has had decades upon decades of practice, why would you be any different to the first timers he had? "You know what I think?" Oberyn's words were almost distant when he spoke, though his lips were pressed right against your temple. Gulping down the pool of saliva making itself known within your mouth you tried to keep your focus, but could only imagine how that gorgeous chin strap and moustache would feel between your legs, against your bare thighs - rubbing that sweet bundle of nerves right at the top of your sex. If his hold wasn't so tight, you would be a moaning mess.

You had not realized that Oberyn was not liking your quietness, or how lost in thought you truly were to his advances. The only thing you could think of in this moment was how good you would look bouncing on his cock, dragging your nails down his chest on your bed - letting the Prince have his way with you. A harsh crack against your backside caused you to silently yelp, bringing your gaze back up to him as the devilish grin grew - seeing the pleasure building within your eyes; "I think because you have never known the touch of someone so skilled in their craft, one who will not be a disappointment, it has caused you to have a Lannister stick lodged so far up this beautiful ass, you cannot let yourself enjoy the smaller things life has to offer." Each word he let out was given new purpose, causing your chest to ignite. He was not wrong, it was invisible but to those who paid close attention to detail could see how far it was truly lodged up there. There was a glint in his eyes that showed he wanted to remove it, to let those barbed edges slid out of the deepened gashes they created. You did not deserve to be afraid, or scared to take advantage of life; You deserved happiness and freedom - Oberyn wanted to give you that though you were a tough nut to crack. "Flowers; A bastard, are you not?" The quick change in subject caused your heart to plummet, his hand to release small off of your neck.

"That has-" You began, shaking your head as far as he would allow. Oberyn was not having it though, knowing you were going to do what you did best - deny. Pushing your throat down harder against the metal rim he cut your words off quickly, not wanting you to put more negativity out when he was trying to give you some goodness - the greatness you deserved to have. "In Dorne we welcome bastards; Sand is not a name to be ashamed of but one to take great reward in. Hell, I have eight bastard girls myself." That was always a part of the Southern part of Westeros you loved, how the Dornish took pride in bastards rather than shut them away like they were garbage. Deep down you always pondered what it would be like to grow up in Dorne, to be appreciated and loved in a multitude of ways, rather than bullied and tormented. Hearing Oberyn mention his daughters caused your heart to explode with admiration; Just by simple words you could tell how proud he was of them. Though you hardened and sarcastic nature would not let you praise that man for it, instead your retort would be one that Oberyn would not shy away from - especially if it meant punishing you; "Good for you, old man."

It surprised you how quickly and clearly you managed to let that seep out, how the best insult you could come up with is age. Though your words were small they did have a greater impact on the man, though he would not show it properly. One of the things he had been most worried about recently was the small patch of grey hair that littered his temple, along with the softening of his belly, showing his age off a bit more than normal. You did not mean it in such a horrid way, no, it was meant as a teasing tactic to see what he would do to you. Seeing the slight hurt in his eyes made you feel tiny, small and childlike whimpering for help, the cool burst across your body was fear inducing. "You think 42 is old, little canary?" Though you couldn't tell now how much your words offended the Prince when he was beaming down at you, his body half in and half out of the water - the gorgeous outline of his length barely breaking the surface. How you wanted to just reach down and grab hold onto it, suck on the tip until you could taste his salty essence. "No, I think you're old," you meant for it to sound intimidating, but with the way you sated at his cock, your eyes told another story.

"Have you met such an old man who can pull such pleasure from your body in only two minutes?" Oberyn smirked at your expression, flicking his tongue out in a way to mock, and mimic what he could do to your aching mound. When his hand released off of your neck you let out an embarrassingly loud moan at the thought of Oberyn eating you out, clamping your eyes shut - but not moving your head. Perching himself up on his knees, Oberyn pulled you to your feet, letting his eyes wander across your beautiful dress-clad form. Roaming hands found the luscious ribbon holding the entire thing together, slowly tugging on each one to let your dress shed. You could not deny him this pleasure of seeing you in the nude - fuck you didn't want him to stop. The first set came undone easily, leaving only the next two as your life support almost. This was a teasing tactic he was doing, seeing how much you really wanted him and how much you actually played into his games; How much he played into yours. "Just let go, for one dear y/n. Let me take care of you-"

"I'd rather die," you cursed yourself silently at your words, sighing out. It was becoming tiring for you to keep this charade up - draining you of your happy essence to a man who wanted to worship you. Sucking in a deep breath, you let your eyes meet his finally, after so long of pondering what could be. Instinctively you placed your hands right on his shoulders to brace yourself, feeling the last of your straps become undone. Though your words felt like acid in your mouth, Oberyn smirked at your boldness - telling off a part of the royal family, which in some cases, would get you killed. The only was you wanted to die at the hands of Oberyn was by his mouth, his fingers and his cock. You'd want to die by the pleasure and overstimulation, rather than his perfected craft of poison. "I can have that arranged, you know," Oberyn challenged as he released the last of your bindings, letting your nude body stand before him as the soft fabric of your dress pooled at your feet. Instantly to the cool room your nipples pebbled for Oberyn, which caused him to latch his lips onto the tightened bud. Suckling gently to give you that new found pleasure, he held your hand as he lowered you to him in the tub - wanting you to relax. You were finally giving into him.

Oberyn held your thighs as you lowered, wanting to let your legs cradle his waist while holding you close, letting you feel the skin to skin contact you have lacked. You had to admit the water was perfect, how hot it was against the cold room made your body shiver with delight. Hot baths like this were reserved for the Queen only, you had to deal with lukewarm; This changed everything. Every inch of stress and bullshit you have had to deal with over the last few years simply melted away to the scent of citrus and clove; The warm hands holding your thigh and back released positive endorphins to cloud that dull mind. In a way, under Oberyn's grasp, you felt like you again - not the distant memory of you that was locked away. The wet hand that laid against your back trailed wet touches up your spine, leading to the back of your neck. But this time when he held you, it wasn't out of anger - but love. Pulling your face towards him easily, Oberyn braced himself against your body as you did the same, knowing exactly what was going to happen next.

Gently Oberyn lurched forward to press his plush lips to yours with passion; Not enough to be marked as lust but, affection. The kiss was slow, and sweet - no real sign of sexual tension. How perfectly his lips molded to yours only amplified the slick between your legs, dribbling onto Oberyn's exposed cock. Your hand came to wrap around Oberyn's neck, pulling slightly at the tuft of curls he had flowing down the back of his head. The whimper escaping your lips was immediately swallowed by the Prince, his hold on your thigh becoming harsh. Pulling back slightly Oberyn turned breathless with a smile, pushing some of the dampened hair out of your face with ease; "See? Now was that so difficult?" Oberyn's chuckle was like music to your ears, the soft and pillowy nature felt like the home you never knew before. Returning his beautiful smile with such ease, you pressed your forehead against his with a sigh, loving how everything you have been harboring was slipping away, not threatening to come back as long as you were in Oberyn's arms. "Little canary, can I make you sing for me?" Oberyn's voice dipped lower, a seductive stance coming out as he laced his fingers in your hair, tugging your gentle locks. Breathlessly you responded, grinding your molten center against his aching length, earning a harsh slap against your ass, "Yes, release my body of the impurity the Lannister's have put on me."

"Don't you worry, my gorgeous sun, let me take care of you. Let me show you how we relieve tension in Dorne."

[psychedelic-ink]

ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓, 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒

ㅤㅤmodern!oberyn martell x f!reader

genre: smut, minors dni, modern au

word count: 2k

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

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

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

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

**stunning divider by the amazing @saradika <333

Everything about Oberyn drives you crazy. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oberyn stops. 

So does your heart. 

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

“What did you just say?” 

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

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

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

“I. . . wasn’t. . .” 

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

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

“Do what?” 

“Just trick me into admitting things.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“At sex.” 

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

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

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

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

“Oh fuck—” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oberyn’s a cruel, cruel man. 

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

“Where then?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I move?” 

“Please.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I—I need you to touch me.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wish I could see,” you hum. 

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

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

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

“I promise.” 

[gosmigenergy]

KINKTOBER 2024 / Day Eleven

THREESOME / SWIMMING / PEGGING (@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction)

Starring: Oberyn Martell x F!Reader x Duke Leto Atreides (Modern AU)

Summary: When Oberyn has guests, you normally find yourself banished to your quarters yet when Duke Leto asks for you too, it’s an offer you can’t refuse.

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No use of Y/N, language, sex powder/pollen/drug taking, mentions of drink, fingering, oral - female receiving/male receiving, praising, squirting, P in V, unprotected sex (protection in real life, please, thank you), spit roasting, three-way, MMF, cream pie

Word Count: 4.7k

Notes: Ok, this is a wip that I clearly abandoned and found sitting on my computer, this was definitely started before I saw Dune and before I knew what Spice was 🙈

It wasn’t unusual for Oberyn to you to his quarters late at night, however he never invited you when he had company.

You’d met plenty of aristocrats, royalty, dignitaries and all manner of terminology you’d never heard. It was a simple introduction with the acceptance that he wasn’t yours for the length of their stay.

Never had anyone asked for you specifically.

You considered rejecting the offer of Duke Leto but there was something in the way Oberyn approached you. The glint in his big brown eyes, his lowered volume and a crooked smile that you had seen countless times, things were getting exciting.

“Remember, panties are forbidden.”

There was something in the crude way he described your underwear that got you just a bit wet.

You knocked the door.

No answer.

Oberyn always answered.

You grabbed the handle and pushed your weight to open the door, almost falling into the room. What you saw was mostly bare skin, hands seizing every inch of soft flesh, mussed brown and black hair.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry!”

You turned away, pressing your palms to your face, shoving yourself against the wood as the door slammed shut.

“You’re late.”

Spinning on your heels, you meet Oberyn’s pouted lips, plush and coated in saliva.

“We had to keep ourselves entertained somehow.”

Your inner walls clenched with the authority in his voice, it was rare but when he used it, it truly turned you on. Then you noticed how his and Leto’s eyes were blown, the glimmer that was usually white now a faint hue of blue.

Leto saw your scrunched expression.

“Come here,” he said, gesturing you over with two fingers.

You fleetingly glance to Oberyn, watching his lips curl.

Cautiously, you approach the pair of them, smoothing your palms down your dress as you squeeze yourself between them. The sweat clung to their torsos, their bulges straining beneath the fabric of their underwear.

If you hadn’t walked in when you did, they’d be fucking by now.

Leto leaned over the arm of the sofa and returned with a golden platter.

“What is it?”

“My people call it Spice.”

He dipped his fingertips into the mound of powder, crushing the particles between his thumb and forefinger.

“Completely herbal, no chemicals, all natural.”

“And will make you feel phenomenal.”

You turn to Oberyn, cupping his whiskered jawline in your palm. The smile blossomed on his face, burying the dimples deep within his cheeks.

Except you had seen how drugs affected people, from other students in your years in college to workers in the industry, snorting to keep going. Your stomach twisted with worry but also intrigue, they do always say you should try something once.

“We’ll be here with you, we’ll make sure you don’t have a bad trip.”

Leto wasn’t giddy like the other man, his chest rose slowly, his expression soft in comparison to when you met earlier. He didn’t rush you, gave you time to survey what was in front of you.

“How do I—“

“You just breathe it in.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Taking the platter in your hand, you bring the powder close and take a large inhale. A tingling sensation filled your nostrils before a warmth travelled to your lungs then, disappointingly, nothing.

“Take a couple more.”

You followed Leto’s instruction before he brought a hand back to the platter, taking it away, the gentle clank of it as it comes to the table.

The pair let you catch your breath, the heat emanating from them with their musky stench, Oberyn’s aftershave potent as he leaned in.

“Do you mind if we continue?”

“Not at all,” you haul yourself up from the sofa embarrassedly.

It didn’t take long for him to engulf his other partner, crashing his lips to his in overwhelming desperation.

You make yourself a drink in the corner, pouring golden liquid into a glass with ice and swirl. You take your place in the armchair opposite them, wondering how much time would pass until it hit you like the men you watch longingly. The warmness is still present in your chest and you question whether this is how it all starts.

Leto grabs a fistful of Oberyn’s hair, pulling his face away from his. His eyes roam to you, his expression nonplus.

“You’ll know when it hits.”

His voice was low, a notable gravel in the undertones.

You didn’t know if you believed him, how can you go from the calmness of you to the same feverishness of Oberyn?

Shifting in the chair, you allowed your body to sink deeper into the cushions, holding onto your drink loosely. You might as well make yourself comfortable before the Spice takes you over and with the glint in Leto’s eyes, he was going to make sure you had a good show.

Part of you thought about looking away, watching the television that was on in the background but you couldn’t.

You always saw Oberyn as the instigator, the dominant figure when it came to the bedroom, he was with you anyway, yet here he was different.

After your exchange, Leto used a free hand to rip himself from his underwear. His hard cock swinging from it’s release, slapping under his navel as it snapped from the elastic prison it was confined in.

Your cunt pulsed.

Oberyn swallowed, his throat bobbing as his gaze fell to Leto’s generous length. The other man didn’t allow him long in his admiration before bringing Oberyn’s lips to his tip.

He obliged to Leto’s demands, parting his mouth, gradually taking him in inch by inch. Oberyn had a skill you had let to learn, not even gagging when it was clear as day that Leto’s dick was making it’s way down his throat.

Leto groaned deep from within like a beast that had finally gotten his prey.

He took his grasp off Oberyn and let him do his work, Leto’s head falling back as the other’s moved smoothly up and down, the sloppy sounds of wet friction.

You couldn’t keep track of time in this moment. It felt like you could have been watching them for hours, no end in sight, no let up from either man.

The heat had spread through your body, through your veins in a weirdly comforting way, your eyelids heavy enough to close yet you didn’t fall asleep. You pressed your palms against your exposed skin, a tingling rising to the surface that felt good, really fucking good.

“Nice of you to join us.”

Leto’s dorsal tones snapped you from your dreamlike state.

Opening your eyes, you could see a faint glimmer and it took you a few seconds to realise it was coming from you, otherworldly in its presence. You scramble off the armchair, noticing how the stuff wouldn’t go away, if you moved, it moved. It clung to your arms and legs like some sort of parasite.

“What’s happening?”

Your voice seemed to squeak, words trapping in your throat as the panic set in.

“Breathe, my love.”

Oberyn had climbed off Leto and treaded towards you, hands open.

Except you couldn’t, your chest was heaving, tears brimming your eyes as your mind worked overtime to process what the fuck was going on. You fumble to undo your dress, pulling the fabric from your frame before letting it drop to a puddle on the floor.

Leto’s one brow arched sharply, Oberyn didn’t lie when he said you always did what you were told. You stood there, stark naked, the particles whirling from every limb, every curve as you began to shake.

“Look at me,” Oberyn said firmly.

Taking an index finger and thumb under your chin, he brings your eyes forward. You focus on him, eyebrows knotting as you can see something coming from him, a delicate steam.

His colour was noticeably different, Leto’s even more so.

“Some say it’s a projection of us,” Leto says.

You blink, “Like an aura?”

“Perhaps,” his lips briefly form a smile. “Maybe a little deeper than that, I’ve heard some say it’s like seeing into each other’s soul.”

“So indigo is?”

“Somewhere between the divine and clarity.”

“And Oberyn?”

“An expression of love.”

Oberyn shrugs, what can he say.

You brush the skin of your stomach and watch the light flutter into pieces of orange.

“Svandhisthana,” Oberyn chimes in.

Your eyebrows knot further.

“Sacral… Desire.”

Oberyn brings his hand to yours, intertwining his fingers and you can feel the heat, almost scorching to the touch. Your heartbeat steadies, your face relaxing as you look at his smile broaden in a childish nature.

Leto opens his arms, offering himself to you.

Oberyn give you a squeeze, a simple gesture to entrust yourself to him, to another lover. Your fingers lip from his hand as you saunter over to where Leto sits, nestling between his thick thighs and press a knee gently to his balls.

You both allow yourselves to admire each other in your most natural forms.

Leto is lean, soft ripples of a six pack present as you trail your fingertips over his skin, sparks of colour escaping. The muscles of his broad shoulders stretch as he rearranges himself to get a fuller view of you. His cock is still hard on his stomach, glistening in a mixture of Oberyn’s spit and his own precum.

His arm wraps around you, forcing you to his body with a gasp. You squirm just a little as a fire spreads across your breast and chest.

“Relax.”

Oberyn’s voice comes from behind you yet you can’t tell who he was referring to in this moment.

With his other hand, Leto trails down your back and over the curvature of your ass, fingers slipping between your legs. He hums with pleasure as he reaches your soft, soaking folds. Bringing his face closer, he brushes the tip of his nose against yours in a playful manner.

“You’re already nice and wet for us.”

He stifles your response with a kiss.

It was rough, heavy, his salt and pepper beard scratching delicate skin but you couldn’t fight him. His tongue prises open your lips as you willingly accept him into your mouth, tongues melding.

It’s clear that the drug in your system wants this but you’re not sure.

He locks an arm around your waist and though you push, you can’t escape. You moan, nails burying into Leto’s shoulders as you fought for air.

The sensation of another set of hands on you only fans the flames further.

“My love, relax.”

Leto parts and you gasp, trying to catch your breath.

“I feel like I’m on fucking fire.”

There were more poetic ways to explain what you were feeling but your brain wasn’t functioning. It was too preoccupied with the two men around you, the heat that radiated from them, the sweat that clung like condensation to an ice cold glass on a summer’s day. Their scent, their slick voices and fork-like tongues.

“This is what Spice does, you have to let it consume you.”

Otherwise it will hurt you, that’s what he left out.

Oberyn begins to rub the small of your back, just like he did when you initially met, when you opened yourself up to him, when he first took you to his bed.

“I don’t know how.”

Leto’s arm loosens, his frame relaxing underneath your weight.

“Maybe you do not know but I know you can, I’ve seen it many times.”

Leto’s fingertips graze your stomach, he can see it, you can feel it, the knot that has its hold. He glances over your shoulder and you sense the exchange between them.

“We’ll take it slow, we’ll get you where Leto wants you.”

The heat comes to your cheeks.

Oberyn wraps around you, his nose pressing into your back before he scoops you up from the other man. He flops onto the other half of the sofa, your body splaying over his, knees parting your thighs so you’re laid bare for his guest.

Leto shuffled, propping himself up for a better view.

Oberyn’s touch was soft, his hand rising from your hip and over your stomach, fingertips sweeping to the peak of your breast, your nipple a hard bud.

He took a finger and thumb, squeezing lightly and the spark travels down your nerve endings, settling low. Your head rolls into the crook of his neck with a sigh and you feel his jaw against your temple.

“Always so sensitive.”

You giggle.

“I love it,” he utters.

Leto watches on, cock twitching at the display. It’s torturous to watch that pussy go untouched but Oberyn was going to take his time, you’d unravel eventually.

Oberyn pinched your nipple harder, taking your whine in his mouth as he slipped in his tongue and yours danced in unison. His other hand teased at your thigh, drawing shapes with subtle fingers until he felt the tension fall. It inched nearer your pussy, gliding over the crease to meet your mound.

He held there for a few seconds before spreading his fingers down your slick outer lips.

You whimper yet your hips roll to his touch.

He stops kissing you to speak.

“I told the Duke that you were always wet for me and you didn’t let me down, did you?”

The sound of squelching seemed to fill the room and you cry as his fingers start to work you.

Leto clenched his hands into fists, his cock stiffening. He was resisting the temptation to edge, to lunge forward and take your cunt in his mouth. He had to behave himself, to control the Spice’s urges to have you.

Oberyn pins your head under his chin before pressing a finger to your clit.

He knows your every tick, stopping your legs from instinctively closing, your moan stifled in his neck. He shushes you, pressing his other palm to your stomach, flushing your back to his chest. 

Kissing your temple, he plays with you some more.

Leto has beads of sweat rolling from his hairline, the tip of his cock bright with a single drop of precum hanging.

Oberyn clocks his rigid appearance, taking his fingers away to the sound of your lose. He places the two fingers into his mouth, spreading the taste of you on his tongue before popping them out in an exaggerated fashion.

Dick, Leto thought.

You look up at Oberyn, dazed with heavy lids.

“How about we let Leto have a play, hm? As long as he plays nice.”

You nod timidly.

Leto doesn’t need anymore direction though he moves unhurried, fingertips on your leg with the lightest pressure. Oberyn returns his attention to you, locking his lips to yours. His hands glide over to your breasts, massaging your slick thoroughly into your skin.

Your thighs felt the tickle of Leto’s whiskers as he carefully analysed your muscle movement with a singular kiss. Your chest raised, your breath hitching as a new player entered the game.

He pressed another and another, each one climbing towards his final goal, you were even more messy up close. His breath teased, the peak of his nose grazing that sweet pearl that sent shivers up your spine. He flattened his tongue and licked your cunt in one smooth motion.

You broke away from Oberyn, the gasp you released throwing your head back.

Leto continues to clean you up, taking his time, listening to each noise to spill from you. Once he was done, he didn’t stop, plunging his tongue into you with ease.

You shudder.

He licks your inner walls, lapping up your juices and when you struggle, his hands pin you down.

Oberyn was kissing you wherever he could, finding the right spots to gently nip at you with his teeth, never hard enough to leave a mark.

All you could do was take them.

The room was beginning to spin, heart pounding as the colourful glimmers turned into spots of white. The fire was coming to the surface, prickling the areas where they touched, the knot in your belly tangling more.

Your legs begin to vibrate.

“Let go.”

And it’s not as if the knot snaps, instead it’s like Oberyn has one end and Leto the other. They both pull and the cluster becomes undone, smoothly and effortlessly.

Your muscles contract before going limp and you throw your head back in blissful euphoria without making a sound. The heat builds, an inferno spreading over every part of your body, your juices overflowing.

You can’t remember much of your release, it came fast and was more than enough to feed a hungry Leto. Oberyn, all the while, sung his praises quietly into your ear.

“Yes, that’s it, you’re being such a good girl for us… Look at how much you have to give him… Bet that pretty little pussy of yours is fluttering round his tongue.”

The more he spoke, the more you came.

You were numb down there but you knew he was right. Leto was lapping as you carried on gushing, your juices trickling down your butt cheeks. By the time he came up for air, his chest was taking deep inhales, whiskers gleaming with you and a crooked smile on his lips.

Slowly, your mind began to focus and you returned back to the room, Oberyn hard beneath you.

“Fuuuck.”

You can picture how he looks, his eyes dark and hooded, his lips parted.

You try to lift yourself up, your head struggling to stay up. The sofa was drenched between your thighs, joined with Leto’s creamy white cum that decorated the cushion though his cock remained hard.

You were still sensitive, your folds throbbing as you brought your legs together yet it couldn’t stop the flames from stoking again.

“Take me to bed,” you say breathily.

Leto didn’t need to be told twice.

Getting off the sofa, he grabbed you roughly on the hips and hauled you from the sofa. He threw you over his shoulder, smirking at your high-pitched yelp before bringing a sharp tap to your ass. 

Oberyn laughed at the display, chasing you both into the bedroom.

Chucking you onto the bed, you bounced on Oberyn’s incredibly soft mattress, your dewy skin gliding over silk sheets.You wriggle further up the bed, resting your elbows to admire the two men waiting to take you, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. The colours remained around them, not as strong but soft and ambient.

“How would you like to do this?”

You look to Oberyn with doe eyes.

How were you supposed to do this?

You had never partaken in a threesome, out of the two of you, he was certainly more experienced in something like this. Your mind was still swimming from the effects of Spice, all you could process was the details of the well endowed men - how they tasted, how they were lean with softened muscles, how dark their eyes were as they continued to stare.

“Maybe you ask too many questions,” Leto brought his attention to Oberyn.

“Perhaps,” he replied, “I just want to ensure she’s ready for this.”

Your excitement pools between your thighs. You try to say something but nothing comes out causing the smile to return to Oberyn’s lips.

“I do love it when you’re lost for words.”

The men meet each other’s eyes with a hooded look. You felt the temperature rise in your cheeks and chest, nails sinking into the sheets as your body prepared for what would happen next. They pounced onto the bed, Oberyn wrapping his wide hands around your ankles, yanking you towards him.

The goosebumps decorate your skin as he kneels over you.

Dropping his hands either side of your head, he brings his face millimetres from yours and your heart skips a beat.

“You remember what I said to you on the first night?”

You nod, unable to speak as he engulfed all your senses.

“If it’s too much, say and we’ll stop.”

The bed shifted as Leto knelt next to you, you could sense what was about to happen and you nod again.

“I need you to use your words for me now.”

You swallow thickly.

“Yes, your highness.”

Oberyn stared longingly at your face, your flushed cheeks, the blue glow in your eyes, that ever present smile of a completely blissed out state. You always looked at him like that, even without Spice, as if you could never quite believe that you existed alongside the Prince of Dorne, let alone underneath him in the most vulnerable way a human can be.

“That’s it, my love.”

He kissed your lips gently at first, running his tongue along your bottom lip for entry, increasing his force when your mouth opened. Just as quickly as he gave it to you, he took it away.

You pouted as he inspected you one last time before he planted his lips on your chin and down your neck, teeth nipping as he continued over your body.

Leto brought his cock close.

You craned your neck, tentatively licking the cum that had gathered. Parting your lips, you took the tip in your mouth, running your tongue around the ridge. His length twitched, a gravelly groan coming from his chest as his hand reached for the back of your head.

He let you set the pace.

Oberyn and him had already discussed your inexperience before they offered for you to join them and though Oberyn had taught you more than you’d heard of, some things took practice. You couldn’t take Leto forcing his cock down your pretty little throat, much like hoe neither could take your yet to be stretched ass hole.

Oberyn pressed his tongue over your folds, a moan escaping you, bringing more pleasure to Leto who took a fistful of your hair. Oberyn toyed with your clit before straightening up, his light touch spreading your legs wider as he positioned himself ready. He held his cock in one hand, rubbing the tip along your entrance, collecting your arousal.

Your breathing begins to pick up speed, your tongue still leisurely working Leto.

Oberyn starts to push himself in.

Leto’s cock drops from your mouth as you gasp, Oberyn stopping, playfully swatting your thigh. You look up at him wide eyed, fluttering your eyelashes as if you’d done nothing wrong.

“Keep him in your mouth.”

You do as you’re told.

Mouth salivating, you return to Leto’s length, hollowing out your cheeks as you prepare to take him except you wait for Oberyn to make the first move.

He continues, your walls stretching to fit his girth and you match his movements, swallowing Leto inch by inch. His cock was a weight on your tongue, heavy yet holding firm, and you took him until you fell the tip nudge the back of your throat. You held there for a moment before drawing back, Oberyn fucking you in tandem.

The room fulls with pleasured moans, all of you in unison.

After a while, you felt Oberyn’s hand at your ankle. He guided your knee to your chest, bringing your leg over to rest on the opposite side. This was one of his favourite positions, it allowed him to bury his nails into the plump muscle of your ass and for his cock to glide over that one spot in your walls.

You drop Leto’s cock from your mouth with a pop to have a chance to breath.

He bends over you to kiss your cheek then your lips and somewhere underneath that thick beard of his, you see a soft smile. The effects of Spice seemed to have faded for him, maybe he was used to it. 

His fingers loosen from your hair, “How are you holding up?”

Indigo flares still sparked from him as you bounced from Oberyn’s impacts.

“Good,” you laugh nervously, “I think.”

“Hm.”

He trails his fingertips down your face, the matches striking, the heat rising yet again.

You meet his palm, the metal of his ring cooler in comparison to the temperature between you. The desire consumes you until you can’t take it anymore and find your mouth enveloping his thumb, sucking for his flavour.

He pulls it out, pressing it into your plump bottom lip.

“Do you want all of me?”

Your heart skipped a beat, Oberyn sighing as your cunt pulses.

“Yes, my lord.”

Oberyn groans, shutting his eyes from the scene that was unfolding. He was already holding back, ignoring the burn at the bottom of his spine because he didn’t wish for this night to end.

Leto chuckles, his beard scratching as he whispers in your ear.

“Show him what you can do.”

You smile proudly as he straightens his back, his cock ready for you to take.

Moistening your lips, you gradually begin to swallow his length. The gag reflex starts to kick in but you fight it as his tip pushes against the back of your throat. Your whole body convulses and Oberyn can’t help looking, ensuring you’re ok.

When he opens his eyes, Leto is already helping, one hand stroking his neck and the other plucking the damp hair strands from your face.

Oberyn slowed down for you.

After another gag, Leto pulled himself out, a strand of spit hanging from his tip. The two of you exchange simple gestures before he pushes his cock back into your mouth. He takes measured movements until he’s gliding in and out with ease.

Your sigh gurgles, the tension leaving your body.

Leto turns his head, “More?”

Oberyn smirks at him, rocking his hips harder.

You cry as they move in tandem, neither of them leaving you empty. A warm builds from either end, from one end of your spine to the other and you wished you could tell them how fucking good it feels.

Both admire how well you’re handling this.

Your arousal spills over Oberyn’s cock, sticking to the hairs at the base, the suction of your tightening walls getting stronger. The saliva dribbles from your mouth, over your chin, as your jaw aches. Tears prick in the corners, eyes glossy as you choke on the speed of Leto, each of the men chasing their release.

The Spice courses through Oberyn’s veins, a creeping sensation reaching his fingers and his toes. He knew he was close, the muscles in his ass clenching as he fought to keep going, to outlast the Duke.

Though Leto was resilient, he knew he could outlast both of you especially when he’d already found his release. He could fight the drug in his system, you two, not so much and he could see how the other man was flagging.

Oberyn hissed through gritted teeth as you clenched around him uncontrollably.

Your whole body was screaming at you and you dug into the mattress to stay upright. The vibration began at your legs before you were shaking, your heart racing. Your vision of Leto was blurring.

“Cum for us.”

He groans as the reverberations travelled through his cock, your eyes going crosseyed as the orgasm took you.

Your throat contracts as he draws his hips back, his length falling out of your mouth and you gasp, your words incoherent as your forehead meets the bed. You hear Oberyn growl as he fills you to the hilt, another jerk to pump more of his seed into you.

The atmosphere settles, Oberyn’s lips pressing delicately to the skin of your waist, your hip.

Turning your head to the side, you see Leto above you, cock standing proud.

“You didn’t cum,” your throat scratched.

“I’m sure the Prince can help with that.”

The two of them exchange a look of hunger.

Oberyn pulls out, his cum seeping out of your entrance and spreading over your legs. You groan as you pick yourself up in your cock drunk state, crawling up the bed to rest your head on the plump pillows.

Glancing past your feet, they’re both already entranced by the other. Hands skim over muscles, their bodies slotting perfectly together, the increasing smile on Oberyn’s lips as Leto grabs him roughly.

They’re ready to give you another show.

Except this time, though you’d very much like to watch, your eyelids grew heavy before you found yourself in the land of slumber.

[palioom]

day eight - breeding kink

pairing: oberyn martell x f!reader

word count: 657

warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; breeding kink, dirty talk, mirror sex, unprotected p in v, creampie

• kinktober 2023 masterlist •

His hands felt like fire on her skin, his soft lips on her skin like a burning trail, his beard like sharp little blades. So overwhelmed, his hand holding her chin tightly and making her look.

“You will look so gorgeous with my little viperlings inside of you.” He rasped against her ear, biting her earlobe softly. Her legs were spread wide as she knelt in front of him, giving a perfect view of his cock buried deep inside of her in the mirror Oberyn had asked to be placed at the foot of the bed. His cum was already trickling out of her, his stamina and devotion endless as he fucked up into her again and again, only taking breaks when absolutely necessary.

But never pulling out of her, his chest molded against her back.

“You’ll love that, won’t you, my dove?” He cooed, thrusting up into her again, the wet squelch borderline obscene and making her whimper. “Round and full of me? Our viperlings?”

She nodded, biting her lip. Eyes fixed only on where they were joined, where the sticky, white mess dripped onto the sheets.

“Yes, Oberyn.” Her voice was barely a whisper, exhausted but so determined to make this work. Sweat covering her skin, her hair sticking to her forehead. “Fuck me full of you, breed me, give me a child.”

Desperate for one, she had done everything possible to prepare her womb for a child. Oberyn was adamant to fulfill her wish, wanting a little baby as well, and he wouldn’t stop until they had it.

“I will, my sweet.” His free hand cupped her breast, tan and veiny, with thick and strong fingers, his other keeping her head in place as she moved to rest it against his shoulder. He needed her to watch, his own eyes flicking back and forth between the wanton expression on her face and her swollen, wet pussy stuffed full of him and him only. “Make you so round, I cannot wait to see your breasts grow heavy.”

She nodded, just about ready to collapse, the intense feeling of another orgasm welling up, still sensitive and aching from the previous ones.

“I want them so much, I want your seed.” Tears welled up in her eyes, her hands holding onto his, onto his body. So desperate and whiny. “You will keep me pregnant? Give me more and more?”

Oberyn’s tongue danced over the shell of her ear, pulling her closer against him. Hips stuttering at her begging for him to keep her pregnant, to fill her with his seed again and again. The thought of it would drive him insane, to keep breeding her, just like she said.

“Nothing would excite me more than fuck my seed into you until it takes.” He groaned, his hand on her breast moving in between her legs, finding her swollen and overly sensitive clit. She whined and tried to shy away from him, everything too much. Wanting nothing more than to carry his children. “Oh, my sweet, to hear you begging for me to give you a child - you do not know what you just unleashed.”

She convulsed around him again, her body weak in his arms, eyes still on the cum that ran down his cock and onto his heavy balls, dripping onto the sheets. Barely noticing as he added more with a deep groan, his fingers only slowing down when his hips had stilled inside of her.

Oberyn guided her down onto the sheets, knowing she had been thoroughly worn out, never slipping from her.

“I will give you all the viperlings you wish for, my dove.” He whispered into her ear, brushing the hair from her face. “I will give you my seed as often as you wish for it.”

She hummed, feeling so full and warm and spent. Slipping into dreams of his strong hand on her swollen belly.

Again and again and again.

[pascalypse]

PEDRO PASCAL - PASCALIPSE

We present the complete Filmography of Pedro Pascal, with images of all the works that our Pedrito has done on TV and in Cinema. Enjoy!

Apresentamos a Filmografia completa de Pedro Pascal, com imagens de todos os trabalhos que nosso Pedrito fez na TV e no Cinema. Aproveitem!

Presentamos la Filmografía completa de Pedro Pascal, con imágenes de todos los trabajos que nuestro Pedrito ha realizado en TV y en Cine. ¡Disfrutar!

[umadosedepascal]

NEW MEXICO | Pedro Pascal X f!reader | PART IX

Written by Santa Trindade

Banner by @missyorkswhore

Made in Brazil

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Summary: Pedro asks you to spend his birthday together with you. You just go.

wc: 3.3k

rating/warnings: [pure smut no plot][unprotected PIV][oral sex m/f] [alcohol comsuption][Spitting] [Overstimulation][Pedro’s POV on the first part]

a/n: The new look needed a fic. Simple like that he just wants to devasted you haha

5:45AM

The alarm rings, I get up from the bed reluctantly, regretting the night before with those tequila shots.

_Pedro, why did you forget to shave yesterday?

I look at myself looking in the hotel mirror, dying to go back to bed.

_Can I shave without any cuts? It's been so long…

I take off my PJs and my phone vibrates with countless messages, it was her.

*Hi P. When will you be free? I want to see you. It's been a while...*

Even though I'm in another state... fuck it.

*Hi my love, I'm in New Mexico for work... what are your plans? *

While I let the steam of the hot water invade the bathroom, I wrap a towel around my waist and take a pic in the mirror and then send it.

*6 a.m., recording is what I have for today...*

I know her so well.

*Wow! What a hottie, I’m craving you now...*

I'm already late and need to shave it off, so I hold my phone on top of the sink and call her.

I can see that she's on the couch.

"Weren't you at home?" I ask raising an eyebrow and fixing the phone on the countertop

"I told you babe, I went out with friends, we went to a bar, but I'm already here and wanting you" she smiles and lowers the camera showing me the dress she wears.

_Does she need to be that hot?

"I would love to be there now, I have wonderful ideas of what I would do with you on this couch…"

I just look at her and move away, giving her a view of my shape, I take off the towel and open the shower door and enter, letting the hot water reach my body, giving me goosebumps for the temperature and for knowing that she is watching me.

"If I can't be with you on this couch, I thought you deserved a little show"

She squirms on the couch, biting her lip and just nodding her head without saying a word. I like the effect I have on her.

"Does that makes you horny, love? To see me like this?" I ask and squeeze my cock, my hand sliding slightly up and down

"Pedro, don't play with me like that!"

"Patience mama, patience" I say smiling.

An idea comes up, but I don't tell her, I just smile and as soon as I finish I pick up my phone

"Honey, I need to run, soon they'll be here calling for me, I can't be late"

"I know P, it's okay, call me back tonite." she smiles and we say goodbye, even if my cock protests wanting to feel that pussy, that mouth, I don't have time now.

As soon as I turn it off, I take the razor, the foam, moving the wet hair away from the forehead I face my reflex and start spreading the foam around my face.

It's been so long since I've taken my beard off that it takes me longer than necessary, taking care not to cut myself. As soon as I finish I feel different, a new Pedro maybe, the new look of the next few weeks, maybe months.

I take a pic and send her.

*This is Ted Garcia, nice to meet you. Please come and stay until Tues to spend my birthday with me? *

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*JAVIER? Is that you?*

You fall asleep and wake up at 3pm

Was it a dream? _

No, you get your phone and see that it was real.

Without thinking too much, you buy a ticket for the end of the day and get any hotel in the same city as Pedro.

*I’m getting there at the end of the night, where can I meet you?*

Hours go by and no message from him.

You are already at the hotel so to wait for an answer from Pedro, you get dressed and go down to the hotel bar and order a drink, it's already late at night and no sign of him.

1 AM

*Mama, oh you already here? Exhausting day. I can't wait to see you tomorrow. Dream of me*

Yes, it's frustrating but you understand his side and try to sleep without thinking too much about the day to come.

Waking up early the next day you have your breakfast with mimosa and lots of good food.

*Good morning, Javier. I mean... Ted...oops Pedro! Can I be your informant today? 😏*

A few minutes a very direct message appears on the screen.

*Second trailer, in the corner my name is at the door😉.*

Arriving in the scenographic city that is not that scenic, until then no one prevents you from walking around there, despite being temporarily restricted. Maybe everyone thinks you're part of the cast, since you're wearing bootcut jeans, a white T-shirt and leather boots. Would you be an impostor? As soon as you approach the trailer, a security guard will block you.

“Credentials?”

"No, I just..." you stutter thinking about how to explain until Pedro opens the door of the trailer and smiles

"She is with me!”

Pedro extend his arm to you, helping you climb the steps, he pulls you into the trailer and locks the door behind you. You can barely say hi to him and you are pushed to the door.

He presses his body against yours, his left hand going up your thigh to your waist, where he pulls you closer.

You can feel his cock hardening against his jeans.

"Pedro..." You say softly as he lowers his mouth down your neck, it's a new feeling, still feeling the mustache pinch the skin, but also feeling the softness of his face. The smell of perfume, aftershave lotion. The smell of his skin.

"I know." Pedro holds your face, looking and smiling at you, so you observe how he looks younger without a beard, how beautiful he is, his hair a little messy, his dark eyes full of lust, his breath panting.

"Hi," he says laughing, sticking his forehead to yours.

You pull him by his shirt, his lips hitting yours, his hands climbing up the back of your neck scratching slightly. His hands going up under your blouse, his thumbs drawing circles on the skin, leaving you goosebumps.

You turn around and sit on the couch and look at Pedro.

“You said you had wonderful ideas of what to do with me on a couch, well...show me"

"Motherfucker..." Pedro comes pushing you to lie on the couch, spreading kisses down your neck, pulling the strap off of your shirt to suck on the skin where he knows it will be marked.

He puts his hand under your shirt, going up until he reaches your breast, squeezing over your bra, teasing your nipples while he keeps kissing your neck.

You say panting between kisses and bites "Go show me... what would you do to me on the couch, huh?"

"I have 15 minutes before go shooting, but I promise I'll show everything tonite"

He is on top of you on the couch, taking off your shirt, spreading kisses around your breasts then you hold the waistband of his pants running your fingers through the button and open it urgently. "Leave it like this..." pulling his cock out of his underwear.

He moves away a little by pulling his jeans at the height of his thighs and moving your panties to the side, sliding two fingers inside your wet pussy.

"Yeah, like that..” you say in the midst of moans.

Now he presses his thumb on your clit. He looks at you with a smile on his face.

You slide your hands through his hair, messing up even more, your hands going down his face, the skin so soft.

"Why you so hot...hm"

Pedro speed up the movements of his finger saying

“Tonight…”

He helps you remove your pants and you intertwine your legs around his waist holding him to you.

You look down, his cock is drooling precum, pink head and burning with horniness.

You take it at the base of his cock and guide it to your entrance in a hurry. A moan that he releases in your ear is enough to make you even wetter.

“You're going to fuck me like this on the couch... I want to see it in the hotel bed, Javier...”

"Are you really going to call me Javier?" Pedro laughs against your neck, his thrusts are slow and firm.

"I will, you haven't changed anything, so I can cal-- oh my God! Pedro!" You can't even finish the sentence the moment Pedro fucks you harder, he holds your legs raising almost the height of his chest. His cock hitting your G.

"More, I need more, please…"

Pedro runs his tongue through your collarbone going up until he finds your lips, biting his lower lip he looks you in the eyes and says..

"Ask me, beg for my dick, but say my name when you moan…"

You beg, you are so horny that you would do whatever he wanted, I would say what he said. You would just obey.

He moves far enough away to open his shirt, he is sweaty, red. You stretch your hand to touch him but he is faster and holds you by the hip making you get on all fours, your arms resting on the sofa, your nails scratching the fabric in search of relief.

Pedro holds your hip and you hear the sound of him spitting, hot saliva running down your pussy, he slide in his cock and holds your hair, pulling you to glue your back to his chest.

"Come on love, give it to me, I'm dying to feel this pussy squeezing me, cumming on my cock…"

He runs his right hand through your body, skillful fingers circling your clit. It only takes a few seconds for you to cum moaning his name, Pedro covering your mouth with his left hand in a failed attempt to muffle the sounds.

"That, one more, one more and I promise you won't regret waiting until tonite."

Pedro fingers you again, your orgasm burning in your stomach, making your body tremble against his.

"That's it, mama, just like that…"

He holds you by squeezing your breasts and punching harder Pedro cums inside you, moaning in your ear talking about how he fucking missed you and won't stop until you can't take it anymore.

You fall on the couch, panting, sweaty and satisfied, for now.

"I’ve missed you…" he pulls you and kisses you while caressing your nipple.

"Me too, and I can't wait for more. Dinner and party?"

He smirks and nods, agreeing, kissing you again.

Pedro gets up and helps you get dressed, and then gets dressed.

"Okay, Mr Hollywood, go to work. You're not going to fool anyone with the face of someone who just came inside me."

"I'm a great actor love, I won a SAG Awards, remember?" You laugh at the way he pretends to hold a trophy.

You say goodbye and you decide to walk around the city before going back to the hotel and waiting for it.

9:00PM

Pedro sends you a message saying that he is in the lobby, but you are not ready yet and ask him to come up and wait for you in the room for a moment.

_What stupid idea was that? _

You don't even worry about dressing up straight anymore.

The moment he enters your room he already pulls you by the back of your neck with one hand and climbs with the other by your right thigh leading you towards the bed.

You can't resist, you already knew this would happen. "Was that your plan?" You question.

Throwing you on the bed and unbuttoning your pants and pulling you by your legs, Pedro licks alternating on your inner thighs until he reaches your pussy pulling your panties aside. Licking lightly, with wet kisses over your clit.

It's an exciting torture to see him rubbing himself on the mattress while sucking your pussy, the vision is surreal.

Between a moan and another that the two release, you say

"Pedro, I don't know what's better, seeing you sucking me or you rubbing yourself on the mattress"

With no answer, he looks you in the eyes and spits in your pussy and sticks his tongue deeper.

And with a deep voice he orders

"Cum for me.”

You take his hand guide to your breast so that he squeezes your nipple. It's not enough for him. Pedro reachs out his other hand and has both of your nipples being squeezed and pinched while fucking you with his tongue.

You cum, so intensely sinking your fingers into his hair that are already wet with sweat.

He looks at you with wet lips and chin…

"That's priceless…." you say moaning lazily.

Pedro gets on his knees in bed, running his hand through his lips, cleaning the remnants of your arousal.

He pulls his shirt over his head, throwing it in a corner on the floor.

You support your elbows on the bed looking at his body. The smooth skin, broad shoulders, the freckles on his wide chest and the small stripe of hair going down the waistband of the pants where you can clearly see his bulge pressing against the jeans.

Without taking his eyes off you, Pedro opens his belt, slowly opening the two buttons and pulling the zipper down.

"Pedro... I want to…"

Pedro looks into your eyes and holds your ankles, caressing your skin and smiling at you, he says

"What, cariño? What do you want? Tell me and I'll give to you…"

You don't say anything, you just smile and get on your knees on the bed, pushing Pedro to bed, you hold the waistband of his jeans, your fingers playing with the edge of his underwear, feeling his skin shiver when your nails touch him.

You pull out your pants and throw them in the corner where his shirt is.

You settle in between his legs, your nails stroking through his thighs, up and down, you feel how his body is tense, impossible to ignore the perfect vision of Pedro lying down, his hands behind his head. As relaxed as he tries to look, you know he's anxious, his cock outline in his white boxer underwear, the small pre-cum stain.

You slide your hands until you almost touch his balls, Pedro sighs, his cock twitches against the fabric of his underwear, you smile and bring your face closer to his cock, slowly pulling his underwear making his cock jump on your face.

His hard cock, the pink tip dripping pre cum, the side vein pulsing non-stop, begging for touch.

You hold his cock by the base, raising your hand until your thumb spreads the pre cum at the tip, Pedro moans and reaches his hand to caress your face.

"Please don't make me wait any longer" Pedro begs softly

You hold his cock and first lick it, taking it all wet from the tip, sucking the tip of the cock feeling Pedro tangle his hands in your hair, you swallow his cock until you feel it in your throat. Pedro moans loudly and squeezes your hair

"Oh baby, like that, swallow all my dick like that, fuck!"

You jerk him off while sucking him, with your free hand you caress his balls, Pedro moans, the sounds that come out of his mouth are pornographic, making your pussy get even more wet. You think you could make fun just seeing him like this, destroyed.

You stop and look at him with desire.

"What?" He asks as he caresses your face.

"Can you dim the light? You're making me lose my mind..."

He dims the lights on the side of the bed and goes to the mini bar taking a bottle of champagne and opens it, taking a long sip.

_He walking hard in the middle of room is too much for me I can’t even speak_

He goes back to bed and leaves the bottle on the bedside table, he kneels between your legs and holds his cock by the base and slides up and down over your pussy, pushing against your clit. He moans seeing the way your pussy wets his cock.

"Do you want more?"

“Yes..”

"How much more?"

“Everything..”

So he bends down and kiss you distributing licks on your jaw and neck.

"Slow down?"

Pedro slides his cock with a low moan, his hands holding your hip firmly, he fucks you with short and firm movements.

"Faster?" He asks smiling

You just nod your head taking your arms around the back of his neck pulling him down.

He wraps his arms around your waist making you arch your back and thrust in it deep once, twice.

You moan with pain and pleasure at the same time trying to get used to his cock and his movements.

Wiping one hand across his forehead hand with his other on your ass he fucks you harder, the sound that echoes in the room of skin with skin is exciting along with your moans.

"Come to me, mama.."

He takes his dick off of you with a grunt.

Feeling that sudden emptiness Pedro puts you on all fours grabbing your ass, he slides inside you again.

Your already soaked pussy is an easy target.

He holds you with one hand by the hair and another hand rubbing your clit while licking your neck saying words in your ear that you already can't understand.

He stops moving and you see that he stretches his hand, wait, is he picking up the bottle?

You turn your head to the right and look at the mirror in the closet, your pussy throbs with the vision

Pedro holding your hip with his left hand, slowly putting his cock in you while his right hand holds the bottle, taking several sips. You moan when you see him sweaty, his hair sticking to his forehead, your eyes go down to his chest, his belly and your eyes stop where he is in you, his cock going in and out, the sounds that your bodies make.

He takes the bottle out of his mouth and looks at you in the mirror…

"Happy Birthday to me mama" he smiles and drops the bottle on the floor, not caring about the mess, Pedro holds your hips with both hands, and goes hard and faster.

"Oh Pedro, please please don't stop!"

He turns you around, pulling your legs and putting it on his broad shoulders, then shove into you again deep and fast.

"So, baby? That's how you like my dick? Opening you all up? Soaking all my dick? Tell me"

His voice is low, hoarse and horny, he's a mess.

You can't say anything but moans and supplications that he doesn't stop, you're so close, your legs start to shake.

Pedro suck on his thumb and rub it on your clit, making circular and torturous movements.

"Fuck! Please, Pedro fuck me..”

"Damn, I love it when you beg for my cock, beautiful! Cum for me, babe"

He keeps circling your clit, his strong and fast thrusts lead you to orgasm, shouting his name as he bends down and holds your neck kissing you, he says between moans

"Look at me, I want to cum looking at you"

Pedro's moans are as high as yours, you feel the hot jets of cum flood your pussy, the way his cock throbs inside you. The way he looks at you as he cums, his lips half open, eyes fixed on you, his hand on your neck making the grip stronger.

"Fuck!"

He falls on you, your legs circle him, holding him as close as possible, you kiss his face, feeling him give a little kiss on your shoulder.

"For a 49 yr old man you can tire me" you laugh and Pedro bites your shoulder and comes out of you, a moan escaping from his lips. He lies next to you, pulling you to lay your head on his chest.

"I think this is one of the best birthdays I've ever had" he smiles and kiss you.

"Come babe, let’s take a shower and order food, I won't leave here anytime soon."

—————————————————

Thanks for being here and read our delusional fics, likes are appreciate, comments even more. If you want to ask anything, blast it!

[supernaturalgirl20]

Little Lamb

Pairings: Oberyn Martell x f!reader

Warnings: Kidnapping, creepy behaviour, dark au, angst, sexual acts are mentioned, being drugged, fear, shy timid reader (for now).

Summary: You’ve been kidnapped by the head of the Martell family as he seeks his revenge. What you don’t know is that he already has a soft spot for you.

A/N: the updates are gonna be short but I’m hoping to have two parts posted a week, all going well. I'm still getting back into the swing of writing after my nan passing so bare with me.

Series Masterlist

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰

The air was damp. 

That’s the first thing you notice as you startle awake. A musty smell infiltrates your senses as you suck in a breath. Your head feels heavy and the room spins a little as you slowly open your eyes. 

It was small, too small to be considered an actual room and the stark lack of furniture or windows, made it feel more like a cell. The cot creaked below you as you slowly sat up and looked around. The thin blanket pooling around your waist. Where the fuck were you?

“Ah, you're awake. Good. Thought I might have given you too much and accidentally killed you. And that wouldn’t do at all.” His voice echoed throughout the room and the pain in your head throbbed harder behind your eyes. 

“You drugged me,” you stuttered, your body shaking violently as the cold air chilled you to the bone. The man, whose hair was tied back, stood towering over you with a devilish smirk on his face. 

“That I did, princess. You were trashing about too much, and I needed to get you here fast.” His eyes trail the length of your body and bile rises in your throat as he lets out a satisfied groan. 

“Aren’t you a pretty thing? Can think of loads of things I’d like to do to you.” You're consumed with fear as he steps closer and you push yourself further up the cot towards the wall, hoping somehow it would save you from his lewd gaze. 

“Please,” you plead as he bends down and reaches out his hand to trace his fingers along your jaw. 

“Please what? Fuck you? Grab your face and shove my dick down your….”

“Enough!” You startle as a deep baritone voice sounds from the doorway, sending a shiver down your spine. You let your eyes drift towards the man, and you recognise him from earlier. You don’t think you’d ever be able to forget those soulful brown eyes that reminded you of a hot cup of coffee on a cold morning. 

 His face is stern as he stands staring at the other man’s back, his fists clenched at his sides. “Get out. Now!”

As you turn your gaze back to the man in front of you, you find him staring at you, a look of pure hatred on his face. He huffs. Annoyed that he was interrupted but he stands up and nods his head at the other man before leaving. 

“Here,” brown eyes says as he hands you, his jacket. “Put it on. You look cold.” The features of his face have softened somewhat, and his eyes take you in as you reach out and take it from him. 

“Tha-thanks,” you stammer, the cold air of the damp room making it hard to talk. It’s miles too big but it’s warm and that’s what matters. Wrapping it around yourself you take in a deep breath as its warmth slowly seeps into you, the faint smell of cinnamon and strawberries fills your senses, and you wonder if this is what he smells like.

“Do you know who I am?” He asks as he stands above you, arms crossed over each other, legs shoulder width apart, oozing dominance. He must be the leader you think to yourself as you take him in. 

He’s very handsome. 

Dark hair that curls slightly at the nape of his neck. A slight beard with a moustache that seems slightly outdated, but he wears it well. And his eyes.

 Those brown orbs that seem to captivate you, remind you of the whiskey your father drinks. “Do you know who I am?” He asks again, voice laced with annoyance as he stares down at you. 

Gulping nervously, you shake your head and you know you’ve said the wrong thing when he narrows his eyes at you. “You don’t know who I am? Interesting. Unfortunately for you, I know who you are. Y/N Lannister. Daughter of Tywin Lannister.”

“What do you want from me? Why am I here?” You ask, voice still a little shaky. Your eyes follow him as he moves around the room, widening in shock as he sits on the cot beside you. His eyes trace the length of your curves before they meet your gaze. 

“Your father took something from me. Something precious that I can never get back and so I’ve repaid the favour by taking something from him. You. I admit you’re not who I was hoping for, but turns out, you are even more precious to him than your sister.”

“I don’t understand, what did he take? Please, I don’t know what he did but you have to let me go. I’m not like them, I promise.” 

He laughs. A deep belly laugh that has him holding his hand to his stomach and it makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter. You reach out and place your hand on his thigh but the minute your palm touches him, you instantly regret it. 

His laughter stops and his eyes narrow as his gaze drifts to where you're touching him. Fear creeps in again and as you try to pull your hand away, he grabs onto your wrist. 

“Don’t. Ever. Touch. Me. Again.” He snarls, his eyes boring into you and you nod your head frantically.

“I’m sorry. Please,” you beg as you try to pull your wrist free. His grip only tightens, and your breathing becomes ragged causing his eyes to drift to your chest where his jacket has fallen open, revealing the curve of your breast. His eyes darken as they stare at your pebbled nipples, now on full display through your dress. 

“Please, you’re hurting me.” The sound of your voice pulls him from his thoughts, and he quickly releases you as if he’s been burned. His face, now void of emotion, looks straight at you. 

“I’m hurting you. That was nothing, little lamb. But you touch me again, and I’ll show you what I’m capable of.”

He stands, towering over you once again and you can’t help but shake with fear. “I’m sorry.”

“You will be. Your father murdered my sister and her children and if he doesn’t give me what I want, I’m going to kill every Lannister, starting with you.” With that he turns and makes his way towards the door but when a sob escapes your lips he stops in his tracks.

 His shoulders tense beneath his dark shirt and he glances at you from over his shoulder. “I’m not in the habit of hurting women, so if you do what you're told, you’ll be fine.”

“Funny, considering you just threatened to kill me,” you snipe back at him, and you swear you see the hint of a smile on his face before he reaches for the door. 

“Behave little lamb, and I’ll let you out of this room. Don’t, and you’ll stay here to rot.” The door closes behind him with a bang before you hear the faint sound of the lock. Fuck!

Your father killed his sister? You don’t believe it. He wouldn’t do such a thing. Or would he?

Part 2

Everything: @maievdenoir @amneris21 @hnt-escape @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @jediknight122 @ayrusss @hayley-the-comet @sherala007 @alexxavicry @scorpio-marionette @donnaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @beskarprincessjenny @littlemisspascal @icanbeyourjedi @thatpinkshirt @maryfanson @sunnshineeexoxo @misspearly1 @misspearlssideblog @athalien @its--fandom--darling @sara-alonso @doommommy @browneyes-issac @trickstersp8 @nembees @kaitieskidmore1 @mswarriorbabe80 @allthe-ships @tintinn16 @hungrhay @rosie-posie08 @manuymesut @all-the-way-down-here @iccedays @tusk89 @graciexmarvel @pedrostories @musings-of-a-rose @untitledarea @your-voice-is-mellifluous @majestyjade @avengersfan25 @hummelmia @angstismydrug

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Hello and welcome to my blog! you can find something about me here.

All of my works are +18 and NSFW, please don’t interact if you’re a minor. English is not my first language and I have no beta reader, please have mercy.

I take requests, so if you would like me to write something in particular send me an ask and I will try to accommodate you as best as I can. However, I reserve the right to avoid topics that trigger me, I will let you know immediately if I can't write what you would like. Finally, be patient if it takes me a while, I have two jobs so in certain periods I probably won't be able to write right away, I will try to do it as soon as I can. For now I only write for Pedro Pascal characters (no RPF), especially Joel Miller. I haven't written for some characters yet but I would definitely try if you're interested. Thank you so much ❤️

I do not allow any of my work to be reposted, translated, redistributed, or fed to AI. Please let me know if you see anyone doing this.

Angst: 💔

Fluff: ❣️

Comfort: ❤️

Non con/kinky: 🖤

Smut: ❤️‍🔥

Queer couples marked with: 🏳️‍🌈

Smut is present in all of them so make sure to read the warnings, I don’t want to make someone uncomfortable.

Full Masterlist under the cut:

Joel Miller:

• Perfect ~ Soft Boyfriend!Joel Miller x Curvy AFAB!reader ❤️❤️‍🔥 No outbreak. Basically Joel worshipping you and your curvy body

• Be still, my foolish heart ~ Soft Single dad!Joel Miller x Curvy f!Reader ❤️❤️‍🔥 A meet cute at the clinic where you work leads to finding the best date you could ask for… our one and only Joel Miller

• Happy Birthday, little finch ~ Jackson!Joel Miller x AFAB!reader ❤️‍🔥❤️

Everyone forgets your birthday but you receive an unexpected invitation (wink) that will change the fate of the day. (No spoilers from the original second game, Jackson is totally made up by me)

• Guess ~ Soft boyfriend!Joel Miller x AFAB!reader 🖤❤️❤️‍🔥 Pwp inspired by Guess by Charli xcx featuring Billie Eilish. Joel guess the color of your underwear and then eats you in a restrooom.

(Yeah, I have no excuses for this lmao)

• Special Needs ~ DBF!Joel Miller x F!reader, no outbreak 🖤❤️❤️‍🔥 Joel lets you convince him that you can help him get back in shape.

• Shirt On ~ Sub!Joel X Soft dom! F reader 🖤❤️‍🔥 Joel getting pegged by you while you wear his flannel shirt.

• On a razor’s edge ~ Joel Miller x f!reader ❤️‍🔥❤️🖤 Joel helps you shave. There.

• It started out with a kiss, how did it ended like this? ~ Young!Joel Miller x f!reader ❤️‍🔥💔 You meet Joel at a party, everything is fine, he’s beautiful… will it end well?

• The right ones ~ soft!Joel Miller x reader / fluff and comfort (written in a neutral way so every person who menstruates can identify with it ) ❣️ Joel buys you pads. ‘Cause Joel provides, you know, no matter the situation.

• Slow ~ Joel Miller x afab!reader ❤️‍🔥❤️ Tiny drabble, just pure smut.

• It feels like hope ~ Hot Priest!Joel Miller x f!reader 💔🖤❤️‍🔥 There's a new priest in your parish and he's very different from anyone you've ever known.

• We all need someone ~ Jackson!Joel x afab!reader 💔❤️‍🔥❤️ Joel says I love you for the first time.

• Hold it ~ Joel Miller x afab!reader (pi$$ kink)🖤❤️‍🔥

• Hold it - pt 2 ~ Joel Miller x afab!reader (pi$$ kink)🖤❤️‍🔥

• Do you think I'm your babygirl? I think the fuck not ~ Joel Miller x afab!reader ❤️‍🔥💔 A casual fling with Joel. But you're kinda bad at feelings, because of reasons.

• Something Rotten ~ Dark!QZ Joel x afab!reader x Dark!QZ Tess 💔❤️‍🔥🖤 Dead dove do not eat - Joel and Tess catch you stealing from their apartment. Consequences are inevitable and cruel.

• A heart that hurts is a heart that works ~ Dark!QZ Joel Miller x afab!reader x Dark!QZ Tess 💔❤️‍🔥🖤 Dead dove do not eat - a sequel for Something Rotten that digs a little bit more into reader's mind. And some more deranged smut lol

• Waffles for breakfast ~ Joel Miller x afab!reader ❣️ Joel makes you breakfast. I mean, he tries very hard.

• You know what I love - just a melancholic drabble about what Joel deserved 💔

• A Good Grade - Joel Miller x afab!reader ❤️‍🔥🖤 You always thought you would have a future in the art world, until you met Mr. Miller, your professor who decided to make your life hell. What are you willing to do for a good grade?

• Please - Drabble - Joel Miller x gn!reader ❤️‍🔥❤️

• It wasn’t your fault ~ Sweet gentle priest!Javi G X hurt grumpy!Joel Miller, post cordyceps outbreak.💔❤️‍🔥🏳️‍🌈 Javi G helping Joel to accept his loss.

Marcus Acacius:

• Don’t say a word if this word is not “please”. ~ General!Marcus Acacius X slave trader!Javier Peña 💔❤️‍🔥🏳️‍🌈 Basically two people who hate their guts reciprocally but also want to f*** each other.

Oberyn Martell:

• Move, baby ~ Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand x f!reader ❤️‍🔥🏳️‍🌈 P*rn with very little plot, reader is a sex worker and happens to have a great night with both Oberyn and Ellaria

Frankie Morales:

• You look like a fun place to sit ~ neighbor!Frankie Morales x f!reader ❤️‍🔥 You decide to enjoy a night at the movies, your neighbor Frankie ruins it all. Or maybe not?

• Give me more - neighbor!Frankie Morales x f!reader ❤️❤️‍🔥 You're ovulating and can't calm down, just the night before Frankie leaves for a two-day camping trip with the boys for Santi's birthday… luckily Frankie is willing to help you… too much, even. PEK Frankie at your service 🫡

• Sensitive - Frankie Morales x afab!reader 🖤❤️‍🔥 You make Frankie come just by playing with his nipples. That’s it, that’s the fic LOL

Javi G:

• A perfect day ~ Javier Gutierrez - The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent X Gabriela ❤️‍🔥❤️ Javi and Gabi, happily in love, spending time together on the beach.

Lucien Flores:

• Let’s get it on ~ Lucien Flores x Afab!reader x Frankie Morales Lucien is your ex, Frankie is your boyfriend. You’re all bi. Smut smut smut (with love) ❤️‍🔥❤️🏳️‍🌈

Javier Peña:

• Poison & Wine ~ Javier Peña x f!reader 💔❤️‍🔥 You love him. But you can’t say it out loud.

• Forget the horror here ~ Javier Peña x f!reader ❤️‍🔥💔 Javi’s POV for Poison and Wine

Office Hours ~ modern!Javier Peña x f!reader ❤️‍🔥

You should concentrate on work. But you can't do that with the charming bastard you share the office with in front of you. Why not find a more fun way to spend your office hours?

Dave York:

A Quiet Neighborhood - Dave York x f!reader - Series ❤️‍🔥💔

In a quiet neighborhood where nothing exciting ever happens, your neighbor Dave is definitely a guy who catches your eye. What could he be hiding under his perfect exterior?

Happy reading!

[guiltyasdave]

strawberry sugar

pairing: modern!Oberyn Martell x f!reader

word count: ~1.8k

summary: Your boyfriend spoils you on your birthday morning. In some... unexpected ways. :)

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, food play, dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), ridiculous amounts of fluff

meant as a follow-up to delicate, but can be read as a standalone!

a/n: written for @iamasaddie's kinky writing challenge with the prompt food play for oberyn martell. it's already june 1st where i live, so here we go!

thank you @northernbluess & @luxurychristmaspudding for screaming about this with me, i love you <3

dividers as always by @saradika-graphics <3

find my full masterlist here and follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates!

“Good morning, princess.”

The touch of soft lips kisses your closed eyelids, your nose, your cheeks and finally your mouth, gently stirring you awake. You hum quietly, contentedly, snuggling closer into your boyfriend’s warm arms around you. 

“Hi,” you smile, your breath ghosting against his lips, before you connect them with yours once more. 

It’s almost as if you’re still dreaming, enveloped by soft sheets and Oberyn’s warm embrace, the golden morning light flooding the room when you finally open your eyes. He’s already looking at you, your favorite crooked grin playing around the corners of his mouth. The dimple on his cheek is especially pronounced like this, making your heart flutter even after waking up next to him on most mornings for months now. 

“Happy birthday,” he purrs, one hand coming up to cup your face, his thumb gently caressing the soft apple of your cheek. 

Your own grin widens and you lean into his touch. “Thank you,” you say breathily, like speaking too loud might shatter the quiet peacefulness of the moment. 

He kisses you again, lips moving against yours, giving you one swipe of his tongue against your bottom one before he pulls back, chuckling at the way you’re following to chase his touch.

“You stay right here,” he orders you gently as he swings his feet down to the ground and stands up, carefully covering you with the duvet that got ruffled with his movements. “Make yourself comfortable and I will be right back, yeah?” 

You nod silently, your smile beaming by now. You watch his retreating figure, only wearing his black boxers, leaving most of his body bare on display for you. Cords of muscle are moving under his golden skin, the sunbeams falling through your windows are catching in his dark hair, still ruffled from the night’s sleep, and you’re mesmerized. You always are when it comes to him. 

You hear his movements in the kitchen, the fridge and cabinets opening and closing, the clatter of something, and smile to yourself. When he had asked what you wanted for your birthday weeks ago, breakfast in bed had been your first response. 

Sinking deeper into the sheets again, you grab your phone, reading a couple of messages congratulating you, laughing at the photo of your childhood self that your mom had sent you. A sweet scent wafts from the kitchen into the bedroom and your mouth waters. 

Oberyn returns with a bowl of strawberries, another bowl of whipped cream and a stack of waffles, with a single burning candle on top of it. You giggle at the sight, scooching into a sitting position and helping him place the food on top of the covers. 

He lifts the plate with the waffles to your face and, winking at you, tells you to make a wish. You close your eyes, the image of his face still vivid behind your lids, and blow out the flame. As soon as he sets it back down, you pull him in for another kiss. 

“This is perfect. Already the best birthday ever. Thank you, baby.”

“Anything for you, my sun.” The endearment falls so easily from his lips, like he has no idea that it sends your heart soaring every time he says it. 

He holds a strawberry to your lips, his eyes glued to your face as you take a bite. When you playfully nip at his fingers, the deep rumble of his laugh makes a home straight in your chest, filling you with warmth. 

You watch him eat, watch his plush lips close around the fruit, his teeth sinking into it. His appreciative low hum at the taste in combination with the sight in front of you has you pressing your thighs together, your need for him always simmering just below the surface.

This must be what perfection is like, you think, looking around the room, taking in all the peacefulness that’s surrounding you right now. It’s almost overflowing, this love that you have for the man in front of you. And somehow, inexplicably, he loves you just as much. 

When Oberyn’s teeth dig into another strawberry, he catches your gaze, must see the heat behind your eyes. He winks at you, deliberately slowly biting into the fruity flesh, licking his lips afterwards without ever dropping the eye contact with you. 

“Are you full already?” he asks, a cocky smile playing around his lips.

“Not quite,” you tell him, eyes innocently widened. “But I got really hungry for something else just now.” 

“Yeah?” he chuckles, pushing the food further away and reaching for you instead. 

You meet him eagerly, pressing your lips to his hungrily. His hands are everywhere, spanning wide over your body, leaving a burning trail over your skin and pressing into your flesh so deliciously that you’re already breathing soft moans into his mouth. 

His fingers slide under the shirt of his that you’re sleeping in, trail over the lace of your underwear until he’s right between your thighs. The fabric is already drenched there, clinging to your heated skin. He growls at your obvious arousal, licks deeper into your mouth while his fingers trace the shape of you over your panties. 

He sits back, watches you with dark eyes as you blink up at him, breathless and pleading. You pull the shirt off of your body, baring yourself for him, hungry for the expression that you see on his face every time he lays eyes on you like this. 

“My pretty girl,” he muses, still lazily stroking his fingers over your underwear, not swayed by your desperate whine. 

He picks up one of the strawberries, dips it into the bowl of whipped cream and brings it up to your lips, watches with rapt attention when your mouth obediently closes around the fruit. It leaves bits of cream behind, and he’s on you in a heartbeat, kisses the mess away and licks deep into your mouth. You love when he pounces on you like this, his movements all gracefulness and unrestrained strength. 

“You taste so sweet,” he whispers into your neck, nipping at the skin there. 

You wiggle underneath him, trying to reach for a berry yourself, wanting to kiss the taste off his mouth as well. He stops you before you can dip it into the cream, one hand wrapping around your wrist, easily dwarfing it. 

“I have a better idea,” he grins, all teeth, and a feral glint in his eyes. “Going to taste even sweeter.” 

You watch in stunned silence as he finally peels your panties off of you and down your legs, then swirls two fingers through your wetness and sucks them into his mouth. 

“So much sweeter.” 

He easily plucks the fruit from your hand and moves closer to you, your legs easily parting wider around his broad frame. You whine his name, the realization of what he’s about to do slowly dawning on you. Your pussy clenches around nothing at the mere thought.  

Oberyn leans over you, drinking in your every reaction as he pinches the strawberry between two fingers and slowly trails it down your body. You shudder at the unfamiliar texture when he reaches your nipples, circling the hardened nubs and chuckling at your responding moan.

“Does it feel good?” he asks, wide smile on his face.

“So good,” you breathe, arching your back trying to get more friction, “please, Oberyn.” 

With a hum, he stops playing with your breasts and continues moving downwards. When he finally reaches your cunt, you’re dripping for him, wetness spread over your skin. He moves the strawberry through your folds with ease, eyes glimmering and glued to what he’s doing. You could almost come from the sight of his ravenous expression alone. 

He brings it up to your face again, showing you the red fruit coated in your slick. Holding your gaze, his teeth dig into it. You moan at the sight, one hand tangling in his hair to hold him close, pulling him into you once more. 

“It is even sweeter than I thought, princess.” 

You crash your lips against his, your tongue licking into his mouth with the need to share this with him, to taste what he tasted. It is sweet, mixed with the tangy hints of yourself. He pulls back much too soon, mischief dancing on his features. 

“Let me get you your own one,” he purrs, already reaching for the bowl again. “As a present, hm?” 

You watch with wide eyes as he goes straight for your pussy this time, dragging a second berry through your wetness, nudging at your entrance and bumping against your clit. A high pitched whine leaves you at that, and he arches an eyebrow at you, a smirk growing on his face. 

“I wonder…” He trails off, swipes the strawberry over your clit again, more purposeful this time. 

You're helplessly aroused, your hips twitching at his ministrations. He steals another kiss from your lips, before he sinks down between your legs, nipping at the soft skin of your upper thighs. 

Another kiss straight to your clit, a swipe of his tongue, until it’s replaced by the foreign fruity texture again, rubbing against you with calculated movements now. His tongue laps at your entrance instead, drinking up your arousal, before he fucks it straight into you. 

Your hips almost lift off of the mattress, a cry of pleasure falling from your lips, and you grab his head with both hands, fingers sinking into the dark strands of his hair. 

“Fuck,” you whine, almost overwhelmed with the sensations and white hot pleasure coursing through your veins. “Right there, please Oberyn, I’m so close–” 

His responding groan sends rippling vibrations through you, pushing you right to the edge within seconds. It swirls around you, the scratch of his beard against your skin, the wild glint in his eyes at your every moan, so obviously relishing in giving you pleasure, the movement against your clit, his tongue right where you need him – taking hold of you and sending you flying. You come with a shuddering cry, clenching around his tongue and flooding his mouth with your orgasm, as stars burst behind your eyelids and full bliss overtakes your body. 

Oberyn works you through it, not letting up until you’re weakly trembling underneath him, tugging at his hair once more. His face swims into view in front of you, a brilliant smile grazing his features. It’s sinful, the way his pupils are blown so wide his eyes are almost black and your arousal is sticking to his beard. You want to kiss and lick it off of him. 

Instead, the taste of fruit and yourself floods your mouth once more, as he brings the berry, covered in your orgasm, up to your lips. You share it with him, tongues and limbs tangled together.

“I love you,” you sigh happily, wrapping your arms and legs around him, ready to let him consume you entirely.

thank you for reading! as always, comments and reblogs are love and mean the world to me <3

[absurdthirst]

Kinktober 2024: October 20th

Day 20: Infidelity - Cuckolding // Cunnilingus // Threesome

Oberyn Martell x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Infidelity, threesomes, cock riding, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, face riding, cuckolding, mentions of breeding/bastards, doggy style sex, allusions to age gap

|| Kinktober List || 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.

“Prince Oberyn.” Your eyes light up when you recognize the lean, fit frame of the second Prince of Dorne. He has filled out some, the thin strap of hair that lines his jaw wasn’t present the last time you had stroked his cheek, but his dark eyes are still the same. Glittering with devilish delight and the promise of carnal pleasures. 

****

“Fuck!” You whine, bouncing on the thick cock that seems to be up in your throat from this position. Tits bouncing and despite your civil animosity towards the girl most days, you lean in and press your lips to Nera’s as her hips grind down onto the younger man’s tongue. 

“Wife, have you seen-” The heavy oak door to your bedchambers swings open, your boorish lord husband walking into the room to pester you with some nonsense even though you have repeatedly told him to ask his man of business. Only to discover his wife and the servant girl he had been fucking, in bed with Oberyn Martell. “What in the Seven Kingdoms’ is going on here?” He bellows.

How you had ended up in bed with the visiting prince was partly revenge, mostly curiosity. The virile, handsome, somewhat wild second prince has already established a reputation as a skilled lover. Despite his young age, you have personally witnessed him dragging an eager young page back to his rooms in the middle of the day. Hearing the man’s moans mingling with Oberyn’s from your own bedchamber. Only to see him flirt and dally with a cute little maid hours later. 

He had seen your face when your husband openly took Nera off to bed the night before. Making no scene, but the hand around your cup had clenched in fury. The burning shame of being so humiliated by your husband’s appetites and lack of concern for you had been clear to him even if it had been ignored by others. Prompting him to move into your lord husband’s now empty seat to strike up a conversation with you. 

He had come back to your chambers and proceeded to fuck you with an passion that you had never experienced before. Your husband normally rutted away until he was satisfied, but Oberyn seemed to delight in making you moan and whimper like the craven whore you apparently are. 

Nera jumps off Oberyn’s tongue, scrambling to cover herself, even though your husband has seen her body many times. In fact, she had left his bed only hours before to wash and then had been persuaded by the prince to join him in your bed. He had even made her eat your cunt before he would eat hers. “Edgar!” 

If your lord husband had his sword on him, he would have surely pulled it, but for some reason he seemed fixed to the stone floor. Stunned into silence beyond that first bellowed question by the scene in front of him. 

Oberyn smirks, looking around you and winks at your husband. “Lord Yronwood.” He practically cackles in delight, taking over and thrusting up into you as he speaks. “I was unaware of your penchant for watching.” 

Lunging up, Oberyn flips you over to your knees as he pulls out of your cunt with a slick sound that can be heard around the room. Quickly positioning himself behind you and thrusting back into you  so hard that it pulls another cry from your lips as your eyes are fixed on your husband’s face. 

“This is a good cunt.” Puffing slightly as he rocks into you, Oberyn talks to your husband while he plows your cunt like he would be talking about the weather over a cup of wine at the lord’s table. Your husband’s table. “Hot and tight. Far tighter than your whore’s cunt.” Nera gasps in offense but Oberyn merely tosses her a smirk. “It is true. You are fucked more.” He tells her before he slaps your ass and groans when you clench around him. “This one, she hasn’t been ridden hard. But she should be.”

You can’t even begin to speak, you don’t know what to say and because of your husband’s mouth dropping open like a fish gasping for air on land, you start to giggle. Finding it amusing. The dumbstruck horror on his face, watching the prince fuck his wife is almost worth every humiliating time your husband had boasted of his conquests in your presence. Detailing the whores he had fucked and how he had left them barely able to walk. Almost. 

Looking into your husband’s eyes, you feel vindicated. Strong. Opening your mouth again, you moan. “Oberyn.” 

Nera nearly chokes out but Oberyn reaches out and grabs her arm to drag her closer. Pressing his lips to hers roughly while continuing to pump deep into your cunt and pull more sounds out of you. The harsh slap of his hips against your ass seemingly echoing around your chamber and Nera drops the sheet that had been covering her body as Oberyn’s hand slides down to her ass. 

Cuckolded in his own home. In his wife’s very bed. With his mistress as well. You know that the tales of this will spread around the Seven Kingdoms. The Prince himself will tell of how he had fucked Lord Yronwood’s wife and his mistress at the same time and when discovered, the lord had just impotently watched. 

The very idea of it makes you moan again, reaching back to grab Oberyn’s hip as he flexes forward again. “Harder.” You beg breathlessly. “Make me scream again.” The sounds of feet on the stairs start to ring out, knowing the men who were ‘loyal’ to Edgar were coming to his rescue when they heard him yell. 

What he doesn’t understand is that most of his men were actually loyal to you. They wouldn’t follow his orders if he demanded Oberyn be arrested. They were men that had come with you from your father’s house. Men that secretly whispered about the anger that your husband brewed at your constant humiliation. They would raise a toast in mocking honor of the cuckold lord of Yronwood. 

Oberyn breaks away from Nera’s lips and chuckles again, looking at Edgar as the men file into the room behind him and stop stone still. Eyes wide as they witness his humiliation. Both hands find your hips and dig in as he drives into you harder. “Of course, my lady.” He grits out his agreement. “My next bastard will be bred in your noble womb.” He promises, making Edgar choke out a sound of horror as you start to shake under the prince, oblivious to everything but the pleasure crashing through you. 

****

“Lady Yronwood.” Oberyn reaches for your hand and lifts it, pressing a kiss to it even though customs would dictate that you are technically supposed to curtsey to him. He is higher elevated than you are. “Widow-hood is treating you well.” 

You hum in amusement, agreeing with that sentiment, although it’s been years since your husband has died. “I have found that I enjoy the freedoms that it gives me.” You tell him, making his smirk grow even wider. 

“You know….” He pulls you closer and wraps his arm around your waist. “You never did give me that bastard child.” He muses. “Perhaps you should find another husband for me to cuckold.” Both of you laugh, knowing that he would. Just like he will be in your bed tonight. Between your thighs with his paramour right beside him. 

[theetherealbloom]

AS GOOD A REASON - CH. 7 | OBERYN MARTELL

Chapter Seven: I Vowed I Would Always Be Yours 

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, Attempted Su!c!de, Idealization of Su!c!de, AU, Age–Gap Romance, Angst, FLUFF, 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, Insecurities,

Word Count: 7.5k

A/N: Canonically, I know the Sand Snakes are in the Water Gardens, but I decided to go with what @forever-rogue did which is make ‘em stay at Hellholt. So shout out to her for being an incredible writer and one of the people who inspired me to gather my courage to write my own Oberyn fic. GO READ HER STUFF! Anyways, here we are, this is where I am literally in uncharted territories and have no script to go off from lmao. The next chapters of this fic are less conflict-focused and more romance-focused, and from here on out everything is almost canon-divergent hehe. It’s safe to expect that things will spice up from here! Lastly, I made the gif myself lmao. I’m lowkey proud of myself for that heheheh

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: The Great War by Taylor Swift

Previous Chapter → Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

A FEW DAYS LATER...  

KING'S LANDING, RED KEEP — NIGHT

The Red Keep’s halls felt different now, the tension from the trial lingering in the air like a suffocating cloud. You had been busy—preparing, strategizing, making sure every piece of the plan to take down Lord Tywin was in place. Yet, in the quiet moments between schemes, your mind drifted to Oberyn. You hadn’t seen him since you left that note by the ocean, but every day, you wondered if he still waited for you.

You step into the cool night air near the docks, the moonlight bathing everything in silver. The wine bottle feels heavy in your hand as you make your way to the familiar spot. And there he is, just as you hoped, standing by the water’s edge, his eyes scanning the horizon as if searching for something—or someone.

“I brought wine.” Your voice breaks the silence, and Oberyn turns. His gaze locks onto you, and in that moment, you see it all—the pain, the confusion, the anger, and the relief. He had been waiting, even though he had every reason to walk away.

“You…” he begins, his voice rough as if words are failing him. “You’re here.” He takes a small step forward, the moonlight catching the tears threatening to fall from his eyes. “How could you? You left me... Do you know how much I’ve—"

You interrupt him gently, your heart in your throat. “I’ve missed you.”

He stops, the burden of your words hanging between you. His voice cracks when he asks, “Then why did you leave me again?”

You take a step closer, the scent of the sea mixing with the faint spice of Dornish air. “Maybe... maybe it was out of love, not revenge.”

Oberyn’s shoulders tense, his jaw clenching as he wipes at the tears staining his cheeks. “Love? You call it love when you disappear, when you leave me with nothing but ghosts to hold onto?”

His words slice through you, but you force yourself to hold his gaze. “I had to go. There’s something more important than just us. Tyrion… he needs me. And so do you. I wasn’t running away—I was preparing. We’re going to take down Lord Tywin.”

Oberyn’s eyes widen slightly, the mention of Tyrion and Tywin pulling him from his anger. “You’ve been planning with him… to destroy Tywin?”

You nod, stepping even closer now. “I’ve been preparing to help. To take down the man who’s done so much harm to both of us.”

He stares at you, the anger fading into something softer, something broken. “I haven’t been well,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “My revenge didn’t go as I planned. Nothing has.”

You take the final step, your bodies almost touching. “Then maybe you need a tutor,” you say softly, brushing your fingers along his cheek. “Would you like me to give you lessons… in revenge?”

Oberyn closes his eyes at your touch, his breath shaky as he leans into your hand. “And what will you teach me?”

You smile faintly, leaning in until your lips are just a breath away from his. “I’ll be your headsman now. I’ll be your missing piece. Tell me… who do you want me to kill first?”

His eyes open, dark and full of something raw, something desperate. And then, without another word, he pulls you to him, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s fierce, hungry, and full of all the emotions he’s been holding back.

The bottle of wine slips from your hand, forgotten, as you lose yourself in him.

KING'S LANDING, RED KEEP — DAY

The Red Keep had become a hollow shell of what it once was. Tyrion was free, but you knew the fight was far from over. Tywin will soon be gone, and the balance of power will shift, but vengeance was still afoot—Tyrion’s sights are set on Cersei and those who had wronged him. A storm was brewing, and you had no place in it.

Standing by the window of your chambers, you looked out over the sprawling city. King’s Landing was a place of betrayal, lies, and the shadows of your past. There was no life for you here, not anymore. You had done what you came to do—the Mountain was dead, and the world was changing, but it wasn’t enough to erase the scars of what had been done to you.

The sun was warm on your face as you began to pack your things, carefully folding your clothes into a simple satchel. The room felt emptier now, as if it knew you wouldn’t be returning. The last few days had been a whirlwind of plans and goodbyes, but one task remained, one ghost that needed to be laid to rest before you left this cursed city.

Reaching into the drawer, your fingers brushed against the coarse fabric of a familiar dress. The one you wore the day Elia Martell was murdered. The day the Mountain had ravaged and destroyed her, leaving you burned and scarred as you tried to escape his cruelty. The sight of it brought a flood of memories that sent a sharp pain through your chest. You lifted the dress carefully, the fabric still stained with blood and soot.

You let out a shaky breath, tears stinging your eyes, the one thing you couldn’t bring yourself to burn. The pain of that day still lingered like a specter. But as you examined the dress, you felt something crinkle inside. Frowning, you reached into a hidden pocket you had never noticed before. Your fingers closed around something small and fragile—a letter.

Confusion filled you. How had you never seen this? The fabric had been untouched for years. Carefully, you unfolded the parchment, your heart pounding as you saw the handwriting. Elia’s.

The ink had faded, but the words were still legible. They hit you like a dagger to the chest.

"My dearest friend,  

If you find this, the worst has come. I beg you, do not stay in King’s Landing. Flee. Run far from Maegor’s Holdfast, away from the fighting, away from the horror that is to come. Go to Dorne, to my brothers, Oberyn and Doran. Tell them I love them, that I wished for a different end. I should have sent you sooner, but now you must go, for my sake. Please… live."

Your fingers trembled as you held the letter, your breath caught in your throat. Eighteen years. Eighteen long years, and all this time, this letter had been here, untouched. Elia had tried to save you, to send you to her brothers, to Dorne. Your chest tightened with grief and regret. If only you had found this sooner, maybe everything would have been different. 

As you sat on the edge of your bed, clutching the letter to your chest, there was a soft knock at the door. You wiped your eyes quickly and stood as Oberyn entered the room.

His eyes immediately went to the letter in your hand. He stepped closer, his expression softening with concern. “What’s that?”

You handed it to him, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s from Elia.”

Oberyn’s brow furrowed as he took the letter, his gaze scanning the words. His expression hardened, a storm of emotions flashing in his eyes—grief, love, guilt. “She wanted you to go to Dorne,” he murmured. “She tried to protect you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you nodded. “I never found it. All these years, it was here, and I… I thought I had been abandoned. But Elia… she never forgot me.”

Oberyn exhaled, his jaw tightening as he folded the letter carefully. His voice was thick with emotion. “My sister loved you. She always spoke of you, even in her final days. If she had known what was coming, she would have done anything to save you.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling the significance of Elia’s words. “There was a time,” you whispered, “when I thought… ‘What if someone had tried to help me?’ Now I finally realize that there were good grown-ups around me, too. Friends, weather, and divine intervention, too. Now I know… she did.”

Oberyn’s hand found yours, his grip firm but gentle. “Come with me,” he said softly, his eyes meeting yours with quiet intensity. “To Dorne. Come home with me. Meet my brother Doran, my daughters. Elia would’ve wanted you to see Dorne for all its beauty, for all it has to offer.”

Your heart ached at his words. Dorne had always been a place of legend in your mind, a distant dream. But now, with Oberyn standing before you, offering you the chance to finally belong, to heal, it felt like a promise of something new.

You took a deep breath, looking up at him. “Do you really think… Elia would’ve wanted me there?”

Oberyn smiled, a soft, genuine smile that reached his eyes. “I know she would. She always said you belonged in Dorne. She wanted you to be safe, to be loved. Let me show you the home she wanted for you.”

You nodded slowly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Okay. I’ll come with you.”

KING’S LANDING, RED KEEP — LATER

The streets of King’s Landing were buzzing with whispers, like restless birds flocking above the ashes of a great fire. The once-powerful Lannister name now seemed vulnerable, as enemies crept from the shadows, eager to seize their chance.

You walked through the Red Keep for what would be the last time, your footsteps echoing off the cold stone walls. This place had never felt like home. It had always been a battlefield, not only in the physical sense but also in the games of politics and survival. You had played your part, avenging the wrongs that haunted your past. The poison Oberyn had carefully crafted for Lord Tywin will take effect soon. There was nothing left for you here. Still, there were those you needed to say goodbye to.

Your first stop was the docks. The salty breeze off Blackwater Bay tugged at your hair as you approached Serena, your faithful friend. She stood by the ship that would take her to Braavos, her belongings already packed and loaded onto the vessel.

When she saw you, her face softened, and she opened her arms. Without a word, you embraced her, the warmth of her body grounding you for a moment in the chaos of the day.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” you whispered, holding her tightly. “For everything. You’ve been my strength through all of this.”

Serena smiled, pulling back slightly to look at you. Her eyes, filled with wisdom and compassion, glistened under the light of the setting sun. “You don’t owe me anything. You’ve done enough, more than enough. It’s time for you to find your own peace now.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, knowing that her words were true, but still, the thought of leaving her behind stung. “I’ll never forget what you’ve done for me,” you said softly, your voice breaking just a little.

She placed a gentle hand on your cheek. “And I’ll never forget you, my friend. Now go, before I start crying and embarrass myself.”

You both laughed softly, but the sadness lingered as you stepped back, giving her one last look before you left her there.

Your next farewell came in the shadowy corridors of the Red Keep. It was a place where you'd experienced both the highest stakes and the deepest betrayals, and now you were ready to sever your ties. You passed through the halls, not lingering any longer than necessary, your thoughts already drifting far away from this pit of liars.

First, you came across Tyrion, who was standing with a small, satisfied smile on his face despite everything. His recent freedom hadn’t come without cost, but his fight was far from over. He would carry on, and you respected that.

When he noticed you, his smile faltered, turning thoughtful as he stepped closer. “I owe you my life,” he said with a slight incline of his head. “Not many would have risked what you did.”

You offered him a small, bittersweet smile. “It wasn’t for you, Tyrion. But I’m glad you’re free. You deserve better than this place.”

Tyrion’s eyes softened with understanding. “And you deserve peace, wherever you find it.”

You nodded, knowing you would never forget the strange bond you had formed with him in these dark times. “Goodbye, Tyrion. May your revenge taste sweeter than mine.”

With that, you turned away, leaving behind the one Lannister you could stomach. But there was still one more encounter you couldn’t avoid.

---

Jaime Lannister was waiting, his golden hand resting on the pommel of his sword as he leaned against the stone wall, his gaze distant as he stared out over the courtyard. You approached him, your steps measured, your face set in a cool, unreadable expression.

When he noticed you, Jaime stood straighter, his eyes flicking to yours. There was no warmth between you, only an understanding born from the knowledge of who you both were—survivors of a cruel world, playing your roles as best you could.

“I never liked you,” you said bluntly, not bothering to soften your words. “You aren’t a good man, but you never pretended to be. I can respect that.”

Jaime raised an eyebrow, a flicker of something like amusement passing over his features. “And here I thought we were going to end things on a high note.”

You smirked slightly, but there was no real humor in it. “You care for your family. That much I understand. But don’t mistake that for forgiveness.”

Jaime’s face darkened, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he nodded once, a quiet acceptance of your judgment. “I don’t expect forgiveness,” he said quietly. “Only survival.”

With that, you turned on your heel and left the Red Keep behind, feeling the weight of years of pain and bitterness slowly begin to lift from your shoulders as the doors closed behind you.

DORNE — DAY

The journey to Dorne was unlike anything you had imagined. As the landscape changed from the cold, rigid greys of King’s Landing to the warmth of Dorne, it felt as if the world itself was breathing for the first time. The golden sun bathed the rolling hills, turning the sand into rivers of light. Every breath you took felt lighter, cleaner, as if the air here was different. It smelled of spices and sea salt, a stark contrast to the rot and soot of the capital. The vibrant hues of the desert, the deep oranges and reds, made you feel alive in a way you hadn’t felt in years.

Oberyn rode beside you, silent but ever-present. His gaze lingered on you, watching as you took in the beauty of his homeland. There was an unspoken understanding between you. He had given you the space to process this new world, but you could feel his desire to share it with you. 

When the sun began its descent, casting the sky in fiery shades of red and gold, he finally broke the silence. “This is your home now,” he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that mirrored the setting sun. “Elia would have wanted this for you—for you to find peace, to live freely.”

His words hit you with a force you hadn’t expected. The weight of everything you’d left behind—the pain, the anger, the scars—began to lift, if only just a little. You looked out at the expanse of land before you, the endless stretch of desert that seemed to go on forever, and felt tears prick your eyes. “It’s… beautiful,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “I can’t believe I waited so long to come here.”

Oberyn reached over, taking your hand in his, his touch grounding you. “You’re here now,” he murmured, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. “That’s what matters.”

As you reached Hellholt, Ellaria’s ancestral home, the grandeur of the sandstone fortress took your breath away. The open courtyard buzzed with life as her daughters ran about, their laughter filling the air like music. You could see how much they took after their mother, fierce and unyielding, yet full of life.

Ellaria greeted you with a quiet smile, her arms wrapping around you in a hug that felt softer than you expected. The tension between you two still lingered, the unspoken feelings surrounding Oberyn’s love for you hanging heavy in the air, but there was something close to peace in her embrace.

“You’ll look after him, won’t you?” she asked, her voice low and serious as she pulled away, her eyes locking onto yours. “Oberyn means well, but sometimes… he needs someone to steady him.”

You gave her a nod, offering a reassuring smile. “I will. And we’ll visit when we can.”

Ellaria stepped back to her daughters, but not without one last glance at you—an acknowledgment that perhaps, in time, the strangeness between you two might fade. Oberyn, watching from a distance, caught your eye and smiled, pride and affection shining in his gaze.

The next morning, you and Oberyn departed Hellholt, the sound of Ellaria’s daughters’ laughter fading as you rode further into Dorne’s heart. The heat of the day settled into your skin, and as the sun rose higher, Oberyn kept you close, ensuring you were comfortable, taking every opportunity to steal a kiss or brush his fingers along your arm.

DORNE, SUNSPEAR — DAY

When you finally arrived in Sunspear, the capital of Dorne, it was as though you had entered a dream. The towering spires of the palace loomed in the distance, and the city itself was bustling with life—merchants, nobles, and commoners alike filling the streets with vibrant colors and spirited conversations. The air was filled with the scent of oranges and spices, carried on the wind from the sea.

Oberyn stopped his horse and looked at you, his expression softening as he took in the sight of you against the backdrop of his homeland. “We’re home,” he said, his voice full of tenderness.

You turned to him, your heart swelling. There was something about the way he said it that made everything feel right. Home. This place—Dorne—had always been where you were meant to be, even if it had taken years to find your way here.

Oberyn dismounted and came to your side, helping you down. As your feet touched the warm sand, he cupped your face in his hands, his thumb gently brushing your cheek. “Elia would have wanted you to see this,” he whispered. “To be part of this life. She always believed Dorne had a way of healing the soul.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you looked at him, the love in his gaze overwhelming. “I wish she could be here,” you murmured, your voice breaking.

Oberyn smiled, though there was a sadness in it. “She is. In every sunset, in every breeze, Elia is here.”

Oberyn gathered you in his arms, “She loved you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “And I love you. You belong here—with me.”

The two of you stood there, the sun setting over the sea, casting long shadows over the sand. And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you knew that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Home.

WATER GARDENS, DORNE — NOON

The gates of Sunspear opened before you, and the sight that greeted you was nothing short of breathtaking. The Water Gardens, the beloved retreat of House Martell, stretched out in all directions, a vision of tranquility and beauty. Lush greenery surrounded shimmering pools of water, each reflecting the clear blue sky above. The gardens were dotted with fountains, their soft trickling filling the air with a soothing melody. Vibrant flowers, rich in color, bloomed along the pathways, their petals swaying gently in the warm breeze. It was a stark contrast to the harsh, grey stone of King’s Landing, and you couldn’t help but pause, your breath catching in your throat as you took it all in. None of these walls are stained by hatred. How strange this all is.

Life, which had once felt so rigid and colorless, suddenly seemed full of possibility. The villas, painted in shades of orange, red, and gold, stood proudly against the sunlit sky, their terracotta roofs blending with the desert landscape. Everything felt so alive, bursting with color. The black-and-white certainty that had governed your thoughts for so long seemed to dissolve under the warmth of the Dornish sun.

The servants welcomed you and Oberyn with gracious bows and smiles. You felt a bit stiff, your body hesitant and unsure in the face of such warmth. You weren’t used to this—being at the center of attention. The greetings felt too much, the eyes on you too kind, and your fingers twitched nervously at your sides as you forced a small smile. The heat, blistering and unrelenting, pressed against your skin, a far cry from the cooler climate of the North. You tugged at the sleeves of your long gown, grateful for the cover. The thought of your scars made your stomach turn. It wasn’t your discomfort you feared, but their own. You weren’t ready to expose that part of yourself, not yet.

Oberyn seemed to sense your unease. He reached for your hand as he led you through the gardens toward the palace. “Dorne welcomes you,” he said softly, his voice a balm to your nerves. “There is no need for hesitation here. You are among friends.”

Ahead, on a shaded terrace overlooking the Water Gardens, Prince Doran awaited you. He sat in a grand chair, his posture regal despite the illness that clearly weighed on him. Beside him stood Areo Hotah, his loyal captain, ever watchful with his towering figure and unyielding gaze.

Oberyn introduced you, his voice full of pride as he presented you to his elder brother. “This is the one I spoke of,” Oberyn said, his eyes flicking to you with a tender smile. “She has traveled far to be here, and Dorne will be better for her presence.”

You stepped forward, ready to bow in respect, but Oberyn’s hand shot out, gently stopping you. “We don’t bow in Dorne,” he whispered with a chuckle, leaning in close. “Not unless you want to draw more attention to yourself.”

Your face heated up immediately, a wave of embarrassment washing over you. “Oh,” you murmured softly, feeling the eyes of both princes on you.

Prince Doran, however, only smiled warmly. “No need to worry,” he said kindly, his voice gentle despite the weariness in it. “We are not as formal as they are in the North. How was your journey?”

You composed yourself, offering a small, grateful smile. “The journey went well, Your Grace. Thank you for allowing me to come to Dorne… I only hope to be of use. I can work—”

“No,” Doran interrupted softly but firmly, shaking his head. “You have been through more than anyone should. You will not serve us. For the rest of your days, you will be treated with the respect you deserve. You will live here, in the palace, as one of our own.”

Your heart swelled at his words, but there was a heaviness that lingered in your chest. The kindness overwhelmed you. It felt like too much, like you didn’t deserve it. You glanced at Oberyn, who gave you a reassuring nod, his hand brushing against your arm in silent support.

You mustered a sad smile, trying to push away the guilt. “Thank you, Your Grace. Princess Elia… she was always so kind to me. I remember her laughter, her warmth… she made everything brighter, even when the world was falling apart.” The memory of Elia’s voice rang in your ears, and your chest tightened.

Doran’s eyes filled with unshed tears at the mention of his sister, and his voice trembled as he replied, “Thank you for remembering her.” He took a breath, blinking back his sorrow. “It is a gift that you survived.”

The guilt washed over you again, an unwelcome tide. Survived. Sometimes you wondered why you had been spared when so many others had fallen. But there was no room for that thought now—not here.

Doran’s voice, steady once more, broke the silence. “We will provide you with everything you need—clothing, food, whatever it is. I’m sure the Northern attire will be quite stifling in our heat.”

You nodded, uncertain. The thought of changing into Dornish clothing, so light and revealing compared to what you were used to, made you uneasy. You would have to speak to Oberyn about it later, perhaps when you were alone, away from the formalities of the palace.

Just then, a woman approached you, bowing slightly. “I am your lady-in-waiting, my lady,” she said with a smile. “My name is Mirra.”

You nodded in acknowledgment, still adjusting to the sudden rush of new faces and titles. Before you could say anything, Oberyn turned to you, his grin full of mischief. “I have some matters to discuss with my brother,” he said, his hand slipping around your waist, drawing you closer to him. “But do not worry. I will make sure to join you for dinner later.” His eyes gleamed with amusement, and before you could respond, he leaned in and kissed you—right there, in front of Doran and Areo Hotah.

The warmth of his lips, the unexpected display of affection, left you completely caught off guard. Your body heated from head to toe, your thoughts spinning. It wasn’t just the kiss—it was the ease with which he did it, without a care for who was watching. You caught your breath as he pulled back, his eyes twinkling with satisfaction at your stunned reaction.

Doran merely chuckled softly from his chair, while you stood frozen in place, your heart racing. As Oberyn walked away, you realized one thing with absolute certainty: life in Dorne would be unlike anything you had ever known.

Mirra led you through the winding halls of the palace, her steps light and graceful, as if she had walked these paths her entire life. When she stopped before a large wooden door, you couldn’t help but feel a slight flutter in your chest. With a quiet smile, she pushed it open, revealing the grand quarters that would now be yours.

The room was breathtaking. Sunlight filtered through sheer curtains, casting a warm glow over everything. The bedroom was vast, far larger than anything you’d ever had before. A massive bed, draped in fine silks and adorned with pillows, took up the center of the room, its grand frame intricately carved with symbols of the sun and moon. The sheets were a deep, luxurious red, and you could already imagine how soft they would feel against your skin.

The walls were lined with vibrant tapestries, each telling stories of Dorne’s rich history, and the floor was covered in plush rugs that felt like clouds underfoot. A small table stood by the window, and on it, a pitcher of cool water with fresh fruit beside it, waiting for your return from the heat. Everything about this room spoke of comfort, of care, and luxury—things that had once felt so distant to you.

Mirra gestured toward a small chest at the foot of the bed. “They’ll bring your belongings soon, but for now, these were laid out for you.” She approached the chest and opened it, revealing several beautiful dresses, each more exquisite than the last. “Prince Oberyn thought you might like them. They’re light, perfect for our weather here in Dorne.”

You approached the chest cautiously, your fingers brushing over the fabric of the dresses. They were stunning—light, flowing pieces with intricate embroidery. Each was adorned with suns, crafted in gold thread that shimmered in the light. The colors were bold—reds, oranges, deep purples—celebrating the warmth of the Dornish sun. But as you lifted one of the gowns, your heart skipped. They were sleeveless, with daring necklines, designed to expose more skin than you were comfortable with.

You ran your fingers over the delicate fabric, feeling its softness. The dresses were stunning, yet the thought of wearing something so revealing made your chest tighten. It wasn’t the scars—they didn’t bother you, nor did the thought of people looking or asking questions. Those wounds had healed long ago, and their marks no longer held power over you. But here, in this new world of sun and beauty, the weight of something else pressed down on you.

It was the fear of embarrassing Oberyn. Standing beside him, so strong and proud, you couldn’t shake the feeling that, somehow, you might not belong here.

But you didn’t want to seem ungrateful, not after Oberyn had gone out of his way to choose something for you. You swallowed your discomfort, forcing a smile. “They’re beautiful.”

Mirra watched you carefully, her kind eyes noticing your hesitation. “Prince Oberyn mentioned you two would be sharing these quarters,” she said gently, her voice soft. “But he also said that if you’re uncomfortable, he’d be more than khappy to stay in another room.”

Her words hit you like a wave, and for a moment, you froze. Sharing a room with Oberyn? The idea made your mind race. You weren’t sure if you were ready for that level of intimacy, not yet. The thought of sharing such close quarters with him both thrilled and terrified you. But you couldn’t bring yourself to say no, not after everything you’d both been through. Not after all the kindness he’d shown you. 

“It’s… fine,” you finally managed, your voice barely a whisper. “I’ll be fine.”

Mirra nodded with understanding, offering you a small, comforting smile. “I’ll have a bath drawn for you,” she said, moving toward the door. “I imagine the journey was rough. I’ll return shortly to fetch you.”

Left alone, you wandered to the large balcony that overlooked the Water Gardens. The doors were already open, and as you stepped out, the warmth of the afternoon sun kissed your skin. The view before you was nothing short of breathtaking. The sprawling gardens stretched out below, filled with vibrant colors of the season. In the distance, you could see the faint outline of Sunspear’s city walls, the rooftops glistening in the sun.

The sun was slowly setting, painting the sky with hues of pink, orange, and gold. The colors blended together, washing over the landscape in a way that made everything feel serene, almost otherworldly. For the first time in what felt like years, you allowed yourself to breathe deeply, the tension in your shoulders melting away under the warmth of the sun.

Standing there, feeling the soft breeze caress your skin, you closed your eyes and let the moment envelop you. The weight of your past, the pain, and the fear—it was still there, lurking in the corners of your mind. But here, in this moment, it felt distant. You’re no longer there anymore, you told yourself, the words settling over your heart like a protective shield. No matter how much they’ve tried to break you, you’ve survived. You’re not scared of them anymore.

A sense of peace washed over you as you stood on the balcony, watching the sun dip beneath the horizon. For the first time in years, it felt like time was moving forward. You were no longer bound to the memories that once weighed you down, no longer trapped in the shadows of what had been. Here in Dorne, with Oberyn by your side, things felt different. You felt different. The world was no longer just black and white—it was bursting with color, vibrant and alive, and you were beginning to learn how to embrace it.

The quiet knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts. Mirra stepped in, her soft smile welcoming as she said, "My lady, your bath is ready."

You nodded, following her through the grand room. The air was warm, scented with lavender and the faint salt of the sea, and as you stepped into the adjoining bath chamber, you couldn’t help but admire the elegance of it all. The tub was large, carved from marble, with steam rising gently from the water.

Mirra moved to help you undress, her hands reaching for the ties of your gown. But as her fingers brushed your back, you froze, the sudden contact pulling you from the moment. 

“No,” you said softly, your voice steady but firm. “I can take it from here.”

Mirra hesitated, her brow furrowing slightly. “My lady?”

You offered her a small smile, your hand resting on hers to ease the tension. “Thank you, but I’ll manage.”

Her gaze lingered on you, a hint of concern in her eyes, but after a moment, she nodded, stepping back with a respectful bow. “Very well. I’ll leave you to it.”

Once she was gone, you stood for a moment, the room quiet except for the soft lapping of the water in the tub. Slowly, you undressed yourself, feeling the warmth of the bath beckoning you. When you finally stepped in, the water enveloped you, soothing every ache from the long journey.

You sank deeper into the bath, closing your eyes and letting the warmth relax your body. Here, alone, the weight of the world felt lighter. The tension you had carried for so long began to melt away, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to simply be.

WATER GARDENS, DORNE — EVENING

The evening air was warm as you stepped onto the terrace of the Water Gardens, the scent of citrus trees and the distant sound of trickling water surrounding you. Lanterns, hung delicately along the stone pillars, cast a soft glow over the long table where a simple yet elegant feast was laid out. The sky above was painted in soft shades of twilight, a backdrop of deep purples and golds that felt as if it had been created just for this moment.

Your dress—a light, flowing piece with intricate suns embroidered along the edges—shifted with the breeze, reminding you of the delicate balance between feeling exposed and free. You hadn’t quite made peace with showing so much skin, but here in Dorne, no one seemed to care about scars or imperfections. And for once, it was your own hesitation, not the eyes of others, that left you feeling vulnerable.

Oberyn was already there, seated at the head of the table, his eyes finding yours the moment you appeared. A soft smile tugged at his lips, warmth radiating from him in a way that set you at ease. He rose to greet you, his presence commanding yet intimate, making the vast expanse of the terrace feel smaller, more personal.

“You look stunning,” he said, his voice carrying that familiar mix of charm and sincerity. He reached for your hand, brushing his lips against your knuckles in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. “Though I’m certain the gardens pale in comparison.”

You chuckled, trying to shake off the nerves that fluttered in your stomach. “I’m not sure I can compete with all this,” you gestured to the beauty surrounding you—the elegant table, the vibrant colors of the Water Gardens, the night sky overhead. “It’s like stepping into a dream.”

Oberyn’s smile widened as he pulled out a chair for you. “Then let’s make sure the dream is one you never want to wake from.”

As you sat, servants moved gracefully around you, pouring wine into delicate goblets and laying out platters of fruit, roasted meats, and bread still warm from the oven. You shifted in your seat, trying to absorb the sudden attention, feeling a little out of place despite Oberyn’s calming presence.

“Are you always treated like this?” you asked, glancing at him as one servant filled your cup.

“Only when I’m fortunate enough to be dining with such company,” Oberyn replied, his tone teasing. “Though I have a feeling you’ll soon grow used to the luxuries of Dorne.”

You smiled but couldn’t shake the underlying tension. “I’m not sure I ever will.”

Oberyn leaned in slightly, his eyes holding yours. “You don’t have to fit into any mold here. You’re not in King’s Landing anymore. You’re in Dorne, where people live as they are—unapologetically.”

There was something in his gaze that felt reassuring, a reminder that here, with him, you were free from the constraints of the past. You exhaled, the weight of the day lifting slightly from your shoulders.

The conversation between you and Oberyn flowed easily as the evening stretched on. The food was rich, the wine sweeter than anything you’d had in King’s Landing, and yet, despite the grandeur of it all, the simplicity of being in Oberyn’s company felt like the real gift. He spoke of Dorne with pride, recounting stories of its history, its people, and the beauty that stretched beyond the Water Gardens to the deserts and mountains.

“Tomorrow,” he said, his hand resting over yours, “I’ll take you to Sunspear. There is more for you to see, more than even the Water Gardens can offer.”

You smiled, feeling your heart swell with anticipation. “I look forward to it.”

As the night grew darker, and the lanterns flickered softly in the breeze, Oberyn leaned closer. “And tonight,” he whispered, “I’m just glad we’re finally here. Together.”

You couldn’t help but feel a warmth bloom inside you at his words. No matter the uncertainty of what lay ahead, tonight felt like the start of something new—something that didn’t need to be rushed or defined, just lived.

WATER GARDENS, DORNE — LATE NIGHT

The walk to your chambers felt surreal, the weight of the evening's intimacy lingering in the air between you and Oberyn. The stars above cast a silver glow on the winding paths of the Water Gardens, the cool breeze a welcome contrast to the warmth of his hand resting lightly on the small of your back. Each step brought you closer to the privacy of your shared quarters, and with it, the quiet flutter of nerves began to stir in your stomach.

You’d been in his presence for hours now, sharing a meal, stories, and laughter, yet the intimacy of entering a room together felt like crossing an invisible threshold. This was the moment where things might shift, where you couldn’t help but wonder if something was expected tonight.

As Oberyn opened the door to your chambers, the room beyond was as grand as you’d imagined—perhaps even more so. A massive bed with heavy, luxurious fabrics dominated the space, framed by stone walls adorned with intricate Dornish tapestries. The soft light of candles flickered across the room, casting warm, golden hues over everything. It was beautiful, intimate, a room meant for lovers.

Your heart raced as you stepped inside, your thoughts swirling as you tried to steady yourself. Oberyn, sensing your hesitation, moved behind you, his presence a steadying force. His fingers brushed your arm gently, grounding you in the moment.

“You’re nervous,” he said softly, his voice low and comforting.

You turned to face him, biting your lip as your gaze met his. “It’s just... I know you’re used to a certain lifestyle. I don’t want to... disappoint you.”

Oberyn’s brows lifted slightly, a flicker of surprise in his eyes before his expression softened. He reached for your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a soothing rhythm. “Disappoint me?” he repeated, his tone laced with disbelief. “Do you truly believe that?”

You shrugged, feeling a little foolish now, but the thought had gnawed at you since the moment you’d entered the room. “You’ve always been... free. With others. I just—what if I’m not ready tonight? Will you... find your needs somewhere else?”

A small smile curved his lips, and he stepped closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek. “I won’t lie to you,” he began, his voice a murmur, “I’ve lived my life enjoying pleasure wherever it could be found. But you...” His thumb traced the line of your jaw, sending a shiver down your spine. “With you, I am content to wait. Because when it happens, it will be passionate, raw, and it will be worth every second of restraint.”

His words were like a soothing balm to your nerves, each one sinking into you, wrapping around your fears and quieting them. There was no pressure, no expectation—only the promise of something real, something deeper than just the physical.

“I don’t want you to do anything until you’re ready,” he continued, his lips brushing the crown of your head. “Your consent is more important to me than anything. And if tonight is just us, here in this bed, holding each other, that is more than enough.”

You exhaled, a wave of relief washing over you. “I’ve never been with anyone like you,” you confessed quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Oberyn chuckled softly, his arms slipping around your waist and pulling you close. “That’s because there is no one like me,” he teased, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. His lips lingered there, warm and soft against your skin, and you leaned into him, feeling the tension leave your body.

He drew back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes searching yours. “But I promise you this—no matter how long it takes, no matter when you’re ready, I will wait for you. And when that moment comes, it will be ours.”

His sincerity left you breathless. Without thinking, you closed the distance between you, your lips brushing his in a tentative kiss. Oberyn responded instantly, his mouth moving against yours with a softness that made your heart flutter. His hand cradled the back of your head, deepening the kiss just enough to remind you of the passion that simmered beneath his calm exterior, but never pushing, never demanding more than what you offered.

You pulled back, breathless, your forehead resting against his as you smiled. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the quiet room.

He kissed you again, slower this time, savoring the moment. “There is no need to thank me,” he murmured against your lips. “I told you, you’re in Dorne now. We take our time with everything worth savoring.”

A warmth bloomed inside you, a sense of peace and safety in his arms. You leaned into him, resting your head on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath your cheek.

“Let’s get some sleep,” Oberyn whispered, guiding you toward the bed. He pulled back the heavy covers, and you slipped beneath them, the cool fabric against your skin a welcome contrast to the heat that still lingered between you. He joined you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close until your back was pressed to his chest, his body a comforting shield around you.

The last thing you remembered before sleep claimed you was the sound of Oberyn’s steady breathing and the warmth of his lips as he pressed one final kiss to your shoulder.

There's nothing that needs to happen tonight. You were exactly where you were meant to be.

TAGLIST:

@greenwitchfromthewoods @shessweetsour @christinamadsen

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐅𝐚𝐫 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞

pairing: dbf!ellaria sand x plus size!f!reader x oberyn martell, ellaria sand x oberyn martell

genre: smut, modern au, hurt/comfort, minors dni

word count: 7.2k

summary: Wanting to get away from it all for a while, your dad suggests that you go and stay with his friend in the city; Ellaria Sand. It's been a hot while since you last saw her and you must admit, you have a bit of a crush on the older woman. What you don't expect, however, is to find an equally charming stranger staying with her as well.

warnings: threesome, age gap (reader being in her late twenties), weed use, dirty talking, body insecurities (weight related), piv, oral sex (male and female), praise kink, light bdsm dynamics, subdrop, aftercare, squirting (but like very non explicit squirting as ironic as that sounds dfvdv), use of petnames (little one, pet, good girl), no use of y/n, both ellaria and oberyn are mentioned to be polyamourus, edging

a/n: this is hella indulgent and an idea I've had since September but never actually gotten around writing it. However, while I was taking a nap the idea suddenly consumed me and I had to pause everything else to sit down and write it. Enjoy the filth, there's so much going on ❤️‍🔥

**dividers by @firefly-graphics 💜

You’re anxious as you wait for the door to open in front of you. It’s been a rough couple of months—years, actually. You feel suffocated by the world around you and yourself. Every day is another battle. You hate to admit it but you’re just so tired of fighting. There’s a constant weight on your chest that doesn’t seem to go away no matter what you do. Which led you to the doorsteps of your dad’s friend, Ellaria Sand.  

The idea had came from your dad. Noticing your troubles fitting in, he recommended you go and visit her. You were more than eager to oblige. You loved her company, she had an aura about her that just made you feel welcome. Talking to her came easy since she did most of it, and when you had something to say, she would actually listen. 

While you’re thinking about all of this, you’re trying very hard to ignore the fact that you might have a teeny-tiny crush on the older woman. However you’re ready to make the argument that it’s not your fault, she was just too charming—who wouldn’t have a crush on her? 

Ellaria’s excitement mimics your own as she opens the door. With a wide smile, she wraps her arms around you and drags you inside. 

“How was the trip?” she asks excitedly. “I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.” 

“Of course not, I like traveling,” you answer. “Thank you for having me by the way. How are you?” 

“Oh, pretty much the same. Nothing new.” she helps you with your luggage and you follow her to the spare bedroom. “Also I forgot to mention on the phone but a friend of mine will be visiting and staying with us as well. Is that okay?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be,” you say with a leveled voice. “Does the mystery guest have a name?” 

As you step into the room, she turns to you, still smiling.

“His name is Oberyn.” 

For your first night, you weren’t expecting to get high on the couch with Ellaria, yet here you are, your chest full of cannabis as your head rests over her lap. 

“So who is this guy?” you ask as she places the joint between your lips. You feel the warmth of her fingers. “A boyfriend or something?” 

“Or something.” 

You draw your brows together, confused, “What does that mean?”

“It means my sweet flower,” she answers slowly, dragging her knuckles up your heated cheek. “We’re together but we both agree that the pleasure of the world is too many to limit ourselves to one person.” 

“You’re in an open relationship?” you take a deep drag from the joint, your lungs expanding with smoke. 

“We’re both polyamorous.” 

“Wow, lucky,” you say with an envious tone. She quirks an eyebrow yet her smile continues on to be a humorful one. You stammer with your words. “I-I mean, it’s lucky that you found each other. Must be nice having the same ideals as someone.” 

She nods, placing the blunt back between her lips, “It is.” 

“Is he nice to you?” 

You’re not quite sure what prompts you to as that. First of all, it feels way too personal of a question to be asking your father’s friend. Even though Ellaria has spoken about her sexual relationships before, it still feels like your might be crossing an invisible line. A fog settles over your mind, loosening your tongue. You’re fascinated by functioning relationships. You’re fascinated by the idea of two people actually being understanding and caring towards each other—as ridiculous as that may sound. You haven’t had the best experiences when it came to partners, most of them going into it with hopes of changing who you are, so anytime you see two people actually liking each other’s company you can’t help but want to pull out a camera and record everything. 

Ellaria blows smoke toward your face, the warmth of it ghosting over your skin like a summer breeze. 

“He is. I wouldn’t really be with him if he wasn’t.” she pinches your cheek. “You have a weird look on your face.” 

“Oh,” you answer dumbly. “Sorry.” 

“I’m just worried. Your father didn’t really say anything other than you really needed a break.” 

“I guess I’m just a bit lonely.” 

“Well,” she says and reaches towards the ashtray to snuff out the blunt. “If that’s the case you came to the right place. You can stay as long as you want to.” before you can say anything, she starts rolling another one and a loud knock echoes across the dimly lit apartment. 

“Ah, that must be Oberyn.” 

Begrudgingly, you remove yourself away from her lap and watch Ellaria make her way toward the door. She’s wearing an orange dress, the color warming her skin. You can’t help the way your gaze drops to her behind, the soft fabric hugging her curves delicately. 

With a noise, you hurriedly snap your eyes away. It’s not the time to be ogling her like a piece of meat. 

No matter how good she looks. 

You weakly attempt to collect yourself when Ellaria returns with a tall man in tow. As you get up, you stagger a bit but manage to immediately keep yourself upright by holding on to Oberyn’s outstretched hand. His smile is kind, and the kindness reaches the depth of his eyes. Though you also see a hint of curiosity in them. His palm is searing against yours and his fingers are long and nice-looking, you spot a stylish golden ring on his thumb. 

A bit scared, and a bit excited, you meet his gaze. He’s quite handsome. In fact, you believe you might be in the presence of the most attractive two people in the city. His facial hair is neatly trimmed, framing his jawline which in return gives it an even more sharper look. 

While you two remain hand in hand, Ellaria makes the introductions. Oberyn’s thumb smooths down your inner writs. A shiver rolls down your spine. “It is very lovely to meet you,” he says earnestly. 

“Likewise.” 

Oberyn picks up the unlit joint Ellaria had left on the coffee table before she went to greet him. You see a faint sparkle in his eyes. “You two were smoking?” he asks, turning to Ellaria. 

“To relax the nerves, my love,” she answers with a playful smile. “Help yourselves, I’ll be back in a minute.” 

You feel as if someone poured cold water over your head, “Maybe I can help?” you take a step forward, intent on following her to wherever she was going—which you assume is the kitchen. But she stops you with the raise of her hand. 

“Please, I’ll be right back. In the meanwhile you two get acquainted.” 

A second later it’s just you and Oberyn alone in the living room. He seems unbothered and lights the joint as he takes a seat. There’s a certain air of expertise and elegance in whatever he does. He pats the cushion next to him, “Sit.”

You sigh softly, collapsing next to him. He flicks the lighter and leans towards the tiny flame, his eyes fixed on the empty threshold. He takes two quick exhales, the tip of the joint burning a bright orange. Smoke pours from the corners of his lips. You’re mesmerized by the sight of him. Shadows dance over his face, giving him a dark look. 

“How do you two know each other?” he asks, snapping you away from your thoughts. 

You blink, momentarily lost in his gaze, before extending your hand to take another drag from the joint. Your fingers feel slightly numb as you bring it to your lips. "She's a friend of my dad's," you explain, your voice barely above a whisper. "We've known each other for a while."

Oberyn nods, his fingers gently brushing the back of your neck, sending tingles down your spine. Your breath catches in your throat, and you find yourself leaning closer to him, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

“What about you?” you ask, hating the way your voice trembled.

A soft smile plays on his lips. His thumbs continue their soothing caress on the back of your neck, tracing delicate patterns that send a shiver of pleasure through your body. 

"She walked into my lecture one day," Oberyn begins, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. "I was talking about the ancient civilizations of Essos, and there she was, her eyes filled with curiosity. After the lecture, she approached me with such confidence, asking questions that sparked my own curiosity. I learned that she was an artist and she was lacking inspiration. She thought a trip to the past would spark something in her." he says blissfully. “And spark it did.” 

“You’re a professor?” 

He hums, elevated by your intrigue, “Yes, but I do prefer excavating and traveling to new sites.” he explains, his voice tinged with a hint of longing. "It's much more freeing, rather than being trapped between four walls." 

His words wash over you like a gentle caress, and you find yourself leaning into his touch, craving more of his warmth. The joint burns low between your fingers, forgotten for a moment. With a jolt of panic, you extend it back to him. 

Oberyn's voice lowers even further, a velvet murmur that tickles your ear. "She's a remarkable woman, isn't she? So full of life and passion."

A soft sigh escapes your lips as you find yourself nodding, captivated by the combination of his words and the tender touch of his thumbs on your skin. "Yes, she is," you reply. 

“You like her,” Oberyn says, a statement, rather than a question. You’re horrified by the implication of it. Your lips part and close, words failing to come out. His sudden burst of laughter makes you jump. “Do not look so worried, I’m not here to judge you. I appreciate anyone who sees her for the gorgeous woman that she is.” 

His fingers find purchase under your chin, he lifts your gaze, dark eyes boring into yours. You forget how to breathe. With a soft smile, Oberyn brings the joint to his lips and takes a deep inhale, You can hear the sizzle of it, and feel the heat that radiates from the crimson tip. Your lips part by instinct, he leans closer. 

Oberyn fills your lungs with delicious smoke. Your lips never touch, yet you swear you can feel them pressed together. He breathes life into you and when it’s all done, he licks himself deep into your mouth. Pressing deeper, Oberyn flattens his tongue against yours and nips your bottom lip. Sweat drips from your spine and gathers at your tailbone. His hands affectionately cradle your face, inhaling you one last time, he breaks the kiss. 

You’re a panting mess, your lips tingling for more. 

“Take off your clothes.” 

Your eyes go wide, “I—Excuse me what?” slightly inching forward, you stare into his eyes. “Ellaria is right down the hall, wouldn’t it be. . . rude?” 

That sparks an amused chuckle from him. “You’re adorable,” he muses. “I promise you that she wants this as much as I do.” 

“She. . . does?” 

“Ellaria adores you. She also enjoys sharing her favorite things with the one’s that she cares for,” his fingers curl around your throat and you swallow. Oberyn tilts your head to the side. “Now, let me see you.” 

And this is the part where your insecurities make an ugly appearance. You avert your gaze, hugging yourself while Oberyn continues to stare. You want to do this. You absolutely do, if the slick gathering in your underwear is any indication, but it’s still hard for you to believe that he wants to. 

You feel the bite of his nails and bring your gaze back to him. You’re not sure what does it, but you find yourself scrambling off of the couch. You don’t see not one ounce of a lie in those eyes—you only see lust and intrigue. Besides, you came here to loosen up, what better way is there to do that than making out with a handsome stranger? 

When you’re left only in your bra and underwear, Oberny pulls you to his lap and you let out a soft gasp. He unclasps your bra and throws it over the small pile of clothes you had left behind, leaving you only in your, visibly soaked, panties. 

“Oberyn. . .” 

You jolt at the soft lilt of Ellaria’s voice. You stiffen over the older man’s lap, not knowing what to do. With a smile, he draws soothing circles over your thighs. 

Ellaria takes a seat next to you two. You’re too flustered to look at her but despite not looking, you see the delicate curl of her lips. 

“She’s too beautiful not to touch,” Oberyn drags his nose down your neck, and you smile giddily. Your heart beating a mile a minute. “Don’t you agree with me, Ellaria?” 

Her tongue swiping over her bottom lip, she reaches out and holds your breast, weighing it with her palm. She brushes a thumb over your pebbled nipple, a soft whine parts your lips. “I do.” 

“You think I’m beautiful?” 

“Of course, love. Why would I not think you are beautiful?” 

You grow silent. Ellaria’s fingers dances along your arm and heat settles in your core. Oberyn, with a curious gaze and a half smile, drags his thumbs down to the soft contours of your stomach rolls and gently pinches. You whine, sticking your bottom lip out, you look away from them both. 

“I think I have an idea why she thinks like that,” he hums. Ellaria’s gaze drops to where Oberyn’s hands rest, meaning your stomach. Your cheeks burn. Her eyebrows raised, you feel the weight of her gaze locked onto your face, but still, you refuse to look at her. Or him. “She lives in a cruel world that makes her think she’s anything but desirable. But we see her for what she is.” 

“And what’s that?” you mutter, embarrassed to be read so easily. He was right, you never thought of yourself as being desirable, even if you desperately wanted to. There were mornings you just woke up hating yourself, staring into the mirror and poking endlessly at your face and observing every imperfection. You’re tired of it. Tired of thinking of yourself as less. Which is one of the reasons why you came here. Why your dad wanted you to spend time with Ellaria, he knew the woman had ways of making you feel better. 

Oberyn's firm yet gentle grasp on your chin draws your attention, anchoring your gaze and shifting your focus solely to him. His smile is wide and predatory, like a snake. You tremble as his hands slide from your stomach to your waist, their scorching touch and commanding presence stirring a primal reaction within you.

“You’re a gorgeous girl,” he answers with a melodic lilt from his sinful tongue. “The type of girl we want to ravish for as long as you’re staying here.” 

“If you want to, of course,” Ellaria adds, playfully pinching your nipple. Your eyes flutter closed. The sudden mixture of pleasure and pain makes your skin tingle pleasantly. ���Do you, little one?” 

You nod. Everything that’s happening feels like a fever dream. The scent of cannabis is still heavy in the air, making you feel soft and slow like molasses. Ellaria’s fingers dance along your nape, nimble fingers sliding into the roots of your hair, she gently tugs. Meanwhile, Oberyn nips at the soft skin of your neck. 

“Words, love.” Ellaria commands. 

“Yes,” you breathe out, voice shaking. “I want to. . . if you guys want to.” 

Oberyn whispers, “Good girl,” against your skin, and a wave of dizziness engulfs you. The two devour with the ways they touch and bite. Ellaria’s lips melt into your own as Oberyn cups both your breasts, kneading the soft mounds. 

Kissing Ellaria had been a fantasy you frequently indulged in over the years and you’re pleasantly surprised to realize she tastes like cherries and roses. You have endless memories of slipping your hand between your legs as soon as you were in the privacy of your room. You always had a feeling that she knew. Her gaze too observant, too cunning not to see the thoughts lingering in your head. 

Oberyn lowers his head and lifts your breasts to his mouth. He laves his tongue over your nipples hungrily. A wanton moan echoes in the back of your throat, your head falls as you part away from Ellaria. You hear her chuckle. “You taste sweet,” she comments, making you keen. “Despite the smoke Oberyn blew into your lungs.” 

“You saw that?” 

“You two weren’t exactly being discreet.” 

You’re hot all over, embarrassment pouring over you like summer rain. Oberyn doesn’t seem to care, consumed with the taste of your flesh. Your underwear sticks to your folds and you squirm over his lap. The man groans when you brush his length, you feel him twitch through the soft fabric of his sweats. The blood rush is loud in your ears. 

He feels. . . big. 

“Shit,” you mumble, delving your fingers into his short locks. You tug him closer to your chest and sloppily grind on top of him. You feel the sharpness of his teeth and then—

He bites you. 

With a sharp cry you jerk away, your gaze instantly finding Oberyn’s. The man is grinning from ear to ear. Your heart beats wildly against your ribcage. “What was that for?” you gasp, chest heaving. 

“It was an affectionate bite,” he teases, then presses his lips over the tiny dents. “Did it hurt?” 

“No . . .” you answer, sounding uncertain. “I was just surprised.” 

Ellaria rolls her eyes and tugs Oberyn towards her. The man goes willingly, his wicked smile never fading as she crashes their lips together. You see the pink of Ellaria’s tongue slip between Oberyn’s lips. His hands drop, his thumbs digging into the crease between your thighs and hips. You watch wide-eyed at the way the two devour each other. They’re so earnest, so hungry. It makes you ache between your legs and a bit in your heart. While Ellaria licks herself deeper into his mouth, Oberyn guides the roll of your hips. 

Suddenly struggling about where to put your hands, you place them on his chest. The fabric of his shirt bunches underneath your fingers. Your eyes roll at the delicious caress of his clothed cock. You want to feel more. 

When they part, a string of saliva connects them still. Oberyn grins at her and tilts his head toward you. “She likes the show it seems,” he states. 

With a soft smile, Ellaria turns to you. She cups your cheek and smooths her thumb over your heated skin. Your heart soars. She’s so tender, so soft with you. It makes you dizzy. You never thought someone like her would be interested. And you don’t only say this because of your physical insecurities, you just always felt like she would find you too inexperienced. Too young. You always had this unnecessary fear of sounding dumb when you talked with her. 

“What are you thinking?” she whispers, coming closer. Her hot breath fans your skin as Oberyn flattens his tongue over your neck, dragging the wet muscle up until his nose is firmly pressed against your jaw. 

“I’m thinking that this must be a dream,” you answer. “And I’m thinking how intoxicating you two are.” 

Oberyn’s smile is wide as he pulls away, his eyebrows raised. “Look at that, she found her tongue. How delightful.” 

Ellaria kisses the right corner of your lips and addresses Oberyn. “You’ll scare her, she’s fragile.” 

“I’m not fragile,” you pout. With a laugh, she presses her lips against your jutted lip. “I’m just nervous. . . you know my experiences haven’t been—” You clear your throat, suddenly aware of Oberyn’s eyes on you. “Great.” 

“I know, baby. I know.” 

Obeyn chimes in, his gaze moving to Ellaria, “What does that mean?” 

“Poor girl never came from another hand but her own.” 

“Ellaria!”  

“Oh?” Oberyn’s eyes bore into your own. It’s so intense that you can’t look away, and honestly, you’re not sure that you want to. He pulls down your bottom lip, dipping his thumb into the seam. “You won’t have to worry about that with us, sweet creature.” 

“I’m sure,” you hum, a coy smile playing on your lips. “So can we uh. . . can we take this to the bedroom? I’m not that comfortable on the couch. If that’s okay?” 

“Of course,” Ellaria answers. “Besides I hate how this fabric feels against my skin. So the bed is definitely preferred.” 

Oberyn, without saying a word, nuzzles your neck before pulling you to your feet. You falter, still a bit dazed. Yet, his arm catches you, keeping you from falling. 

“Careful,” he tuts, lips touching your forehead. 

Oberyn’s arm never leaves your waist as Ellaria guides the two of you through the hallway of her home. A route you don’t doubt Oberyn has taken many times before.

You aren’t sure what to expect when you enter Ellaria’s room. It’s quite neat, the bed quite big, which doesn’t surprise you in the least. 

Ellaria looks at you with a smile, curling her fingers around the elastic of your underwear, she tugs you close. Oberyn looms right behind you, he hadn’t closed the door as he entered. His cock hard and aching, resting between the crease of your clothed ass cheeks. His palms caress the soft mounds, his breath warm and wet against your nape. 

You’re suddenly highly aware that you’re the only one practically naked. Noticing this, heat crawls up your chest and curls around your neck. At any moment you expect to wake up in the familiar setting of the guest room, none of this seems real.

“Lay down, Oberyn,” Ellaria’s voice breaks the silence, her eyes never leaving yours as she addresses her lover. “We’ll join you shortly.” 

“Hmm,” he kisses your neck, your legs shake in response. “Should I take off my clothes?” 

“Yes.” 

Oberyn smiles, gives your ass one last firm squeeze, and retreats. And as much as you want to stare at the man in his full naked glory, it’s hard to pull your gaze away from Ellaria. You hear the bed creaking under the man’s weight. Still, you don’t turn to look. Ellaria kneels before you, tugging your underwear along with her. Her hands, despite not being large as Oberyn’s, feels all consuming. They languidly slide above your calves and thighs as she raises to stand on her feet once more. 

When she stands, you make a move to take off her garments but she gently pushes your hands back. “You watch,” she says, pulling off the straps of her dress and allowing it to pool at her ankles. 

You touch her like art. Soft and slow. Almost as if she wasn’t there. You cup her waist and skim your palm until you reach the side of her breast, in which you hold tenderly under your hand. A soft gasp leaves her and you look at her with shock and amazement. You bend forward, closing your lips around the tender nipple. You swirl your tongue around the areola, her eyes fluttering as she lets out a sigh. 

“That’s nice,” she says, looking at you between heavy eyelids. “You don’t need to be shy with us.” 

If it were anyone else saying that you wouldn’t have believed them, “I think you’re right,” you whisper, more to yourself rather than her. “You’re sure you don’t mind me being. . . timid?” 

Her brows furrow with confusion, her gaze searching your own as your thumb continues to dance over the darker patch of skin. Then you see it, the recognition flashing in her eyes. She might’ve forgotten, but you remember her talking about how much of a bore it was to be with unsure people. Timid, as she had put it. Which is something you’re being right now—you think.  

Your eyes find Oberyn’s from above her shoulder. It’s a fleeting moment. But he seems to be eating you both with the darkness of his eyes. Your heart skips a beat. Ellaria’s hand cradles the back of your neck, gently tightening her grip. When your gaze moves back to her, you see that she’s smiling. 

“I didn’t mean you when I said that,” she answers. “You lack confidence, there’s a difference. And I doubt you’ll be holding yourself back after regaining it.” 

“You don’t think I��m boring?” 

“I don’t,” leaning in, she drags her nose over yours, soft lips only an inch away. “Let’s not keep Oberyn waiting.” 

When you both turn, you see that Oberyn is softly touching himself. Fingers teasingly moving up and down his impressive length. You clench your teeth, arousal overwhelming every orifice of your body. “How should we do this?” he asks, eyes on Ellaria. 

Grinning, she gently nudges your shoulder with her own, you can’t stop staring at Oberyn however. He’s all lean muscle, the extra padding making him look fit. The coarse dark hairs lead a path from his softened stomach to his pulsing cock. Noticing your gaze, he wraps a hand around himself and starts to fuck his fist with hard strokes. He watches with delight at the way you lick your lips when a bead of precome appears on the tip. 

“Would you want to taste him?” Ellaria’s lips touch your ear. 

An awkward chuckle bubbles from your chest, “Am I being that obvious?” 

“Only slightly.” 

She guides you to the bed, and you take your place between Oberyn’s legs while Ellaria is more to the side. His hand instantly finds the side of your face, thumb tugging at the corner of your lips as he stares at you with a softened gaze. 

“Needy,” he murmurs. “I’m going to enjoy playing with you, little one.” 

You feel your pupils physically expanding. Ellaria drags her nails down your scalp, you purr at the sensation. “He likes it when you go slow,” she informs. “Start at the tip and drag your tongue down, he likes being teased.” 

With an urge to please, you do exactly as she says. First, you swirl your tongue around the bulbous head, his thighs stiffen, then you flatten your tongue and move down. The moan that comes from him is unfiltered and loud. Slick gushes between your legs. 

“Good girl,” he gasps. “You too.” 

It takes you a while to understand what Oberyn means. You only become aware that he was addressing Ellaria when the other joins you, licking a stripe up the other side of his length. You moan as you take the head between your lips, meanwhile, Ellaria closes her lips around the base, sucking the delicate skin. A choked out moan parts his lips, not being able to keep still, his hips stutter, forcing you to take more of him. His width spreads your lips wide. Your eyes water and you feel Ellaria’s tongue as she kisses the skin right under your eye. 

She replaces your lips with her own. You watch in a dazed manner as she takes Oberyn down her throat with practiced ease. His fingers tangle into her curls when she hollows her cheeks, forcing her head down. The sight alone makes you drip for them both. Now feeling even bold, you meet Ellaria’s lips while she’s sucking on the tip. You swear you see a ghost of a grin when she slips her tongue into your mouth. You taste a mixture of them in your mouth, and your head spins. Not wanting to part away, both of you lower yourselves, taking Oberyn between your lips as your tongues struggle to meet around his cock. 

“Fuuuck,” he groans, cock twitching between the pair of lips. You feel his rough fingers moving along your cheek. “You’re doing so well—both of you are,” Ellaria pulls away and winks at you before turning to Oberyn. You take him halfway into your mouth, the tip touching the back of your throat. He makes a sound, burying his head further into the pillows. “If you continue doing that I’m going to come.” 

The sound of his voice lights a flame in you, the strokes of your tongue becoming more wild and eager. You swallow around him, over and over, until Ellaria pulls you away. 

“Isn’t that a good thing?” you choke out, eyes flitting between the two. “I want you to come,” you then add, jerking him. 

“Oh it is,” he answers with a sly smile. “But before that, I want to see you come undone on my tongue. And my cock.” 

Ellaria feels you shudder as she traces the line of your spine, “Get on all fours,” she says barely in a whisper. 

You do as you’re told. Arousal coils tightly in your stomach, your body burning from the inside out. You’re over-excited. Your breathing coming out in short, rushed pants. Oberyn gets behind you as Ellaria takes Oberyn’s place and pulls you between her delicate thighs. Your one arm instantly curls around one leg as you brace yourself with the other by flattening your palm over the mattress. 

Oberyn’s fingers languidly slide down the curve of your ass and slip two of them into your soaking heat with ease. You melt into the touch, your elbow immediately giving way and falling. Without thinking much you kiss the inside of Ellaria’s thighs, sucking and nipping her ample flesh. Oberyn begins to thrust his fingers in and out. Your walls flutter around the digits, your body growing tenses. 

“So wet,” he approves. “You must be very excited.” 

“F-Fuck, I am,” you whimper, attempting to meet the thrust of his fingers. 

He scissors his fingers and curls them, applying pressure to a delicate spot deep inside. A jolt of electricity rushes over you. Your body engulfed in a crackling heat. 

“Taste her,” he says. “Aren’t you curious?” 

Instead of answering, you meet Ellaria’s gaze before pressing your lips into her cunt. You moan into her, and she draws up her legs, bracketing you between the inside of her thighs. She cradles the back of your head with both hands, guiding you as you drag your tongue between her folds. She tastes fucking delicious. You love this, love giving her pleasure. With a hum, you close your lips around her aching clit and suck. Hard. 

Her body jolts, the bed underneath creaking. Oberyn swears from underneath his breath, and you imagine him staring at Ellaria’s debouched face. You bet she looks beautiful. Nudging the bundle of nerves with the curve of your nose, you tease her entrance with your tongue, slowly pushing in. 

“And you worried you would be timid,” she croaks out, her back arching as she tugs you closer. “Look at you now, my sweet girl doing such a good job in pleasing us.” 

Oberyn’s fingers are replaced with his sinful tongue, heat drips from your spine. Without wanting to, you pull away from Ellaria, moaning loudly between her legs. His tongue delves deeper, kissing your folds and lapping at everything you have to offer. He grazes his teeth and you writhe against him, your lips moving sloppily along the apex of her thighs as you attempt to kiss her. 

His tongue feels too damn long. . . he pushes the soft muscle inside, the mild stretch making your stomach roll. Oberyn is much better at this than you are. No doubt about it. Ellaria only watches as the most sinful sounds escape your throat. He fucks you with his tongue and between thrusts, he manages to flick your clit with the pointed tip. It makes you feral. You’re not even sure what you’re doing anymore. You continue to taste Ellaria, albeit much more sloppily compared to before. You catch her gaze whenever the fog in your head lifts, her lips are parted, eyes half-lidded. 

“I think you’re ready to take me,” Oberyn says, his voice hoarse. 

Before you can answer, Ellaria cups your cheeks, pulling you away from her core. Your chest heaves. She swipes her thumb over your lips, spreading the wetness caused by her cunt. “I want you to pick a word, love.” 

“A word?” you cringe internally at how out of it you sound. They haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re already a mess. 

“A safeword,” Oberyn explains Ellaria’s words further. His hands grip your love handles and squeeze them tenderly, he pulls you back and you feel the warmth of his cock heavy on your ass. 

You think for a minute, your eyes darting around Ellaria’s face and the wall behind her. Your mind is completely empty. Blank. Not even one word comes to mind. 

Oberyn licks his lips, “How about that stoplight system? Green for go, yellow for slow down, and red for stop?” 

Ellaria’s gaze searches your own, and you nod, “That sounds good.” 

“Alright then,” Oberyn purrs, etching closer. He slides his cock between your folds, his hands skimming up your waist. Ellaria continues to hold your face, watching your every expression with interest. Your eyes widen— is she waiting to see your expression when Oberyn enters you? Fuck. Heat blossoms in your chest. “What is your color now?” he asks, hand cupping the back of your neck. 

“Green,” you say with a whimper. 

Oberyn pushes in inch by inch. He stretches you beautifully, only a hint of pain following while he fills you. Ellaria smiles as your eyes roll back, your lips parting with a guttural sound. He feels so good. So deep. When he’s fully sheathed inside, he waits for you to adjust to his size. Your legs shake. You’re barely keeping yourself together. Ellaria slips her thumb into your mouth and you wrap your lips around her diligently.  She hums with approval. 

“Does she feel good?” Ellaria asks Oberyn. 

“Yes. She feels like she was made for me. Such a perfect hole to fill.” 

You shudder, dripping down his cock and the inside of your thighs. “Oh god—” you choke out, your voice thick. 

Ellaria releases you when Oberyn rocks his hips impatiently. Your cheek drops to her thigh and with a shaky hand, you bring your fingers to her cunt, slowly slipping two of them inside. You know she wasn’t expecting it when her head snaps back. You can’t help the little smile that graces your lips. Her heat consumes you. Oberyn’s thrusts become faster, harder, sinking deep into your cunt. And with every stroke of his cock, your fingers go deeper into Ellaria. 

It’s a beautiful mess. 

You’re not sure how thin the walls are, you hope that they’re thick. You mentally apologize to the neighbors if not because none of you are making an effort to keep quiet. Ellaria grinds to meet your fingers, meanwhile, Oberyn’s cock is splitting you into two. His pace is brutal, you feel your skin rippling as his hips snap into you. Honestly, you’re not even trying to move your hand anymore, it’s all Oberyn—So technically, he’s fucking two people at once. 

Suddenly you find yourself being shoved into Ellaria’s delectable cunt, Oberyn pushes you down, blunt nails biting into your scalp. With a groan, you once again close your lips around her clit and suck. You swirl your tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves, then gently —almost fearfully due to the harsh grind of Oberyn’s hips— you graze your teeth. 

Ellaria cries out, a sound that takes you by surprise. Between wet eyelashes, you watch as her face contorts in pleasure, her walls squeezing your fingers tight. Her clit throbs against your tongue and just like that, she’s gushing heavily into your mouth. Oberyn’s movements slow, his brutal pace becoming a lazy one as his cock massages your walls. You have a feeling he’s watching her as well. 

Noticing that she’s crying out both your names, your pulse quickens. 

You pull out your fingers and hold her hips, wet streaks glisten on top of her sun-kissed skin. Burying your mouth deep within her folds, you allow your tongue to lick the remains. Another, more gentle, orgasm washes over her, the cries from before becoming sighs of languid pleasure. 

“Good girl,” Oberyn growls, his hand becomes a necklace around your neck and he hauls you up. He shoves his lips against your ear, the tremor of his voice making you tremble. “You know, I’ve never seen her come quite that hard with the others. She must like you a lot, pet.”

fuckfuckfuck 

The way he rolls his tongue as he says it, pet—you don’t expect it to affect you that much but it does, your entire body tenses, his cock easing in and out of you even faster thanks to the way you gush around him. 

“You like that?” 

Shit, he noticed. 

“I—I—” 

He grabs your chin and clashes your lips in a bruising kiss. Oberyn leaves you breathless, your lungs convulse, burning with the lack of oxygen. You taste a hint of yourself on his tongue. 

“Our sweet pet,” he murmurs against your lips. “You’re stunning like this, all fucked out.” 

Oberyn kisses you once more then turns to Ellaria with a smile, “I can still taste you on her tongue.” 

“I would think so. She was quite thorough,” she teases, her gaze fixed on you. 

Ellaria touches herself slowly as Oberyn resumes his brutal pace. Wet noises flood the dimly lit room, Oberyn buries his face where your neck meets your shoulder. You feel the softness of his lips and the sharpness of his teeth. Your loins burn. 

Oberyn dangles you on the edge of a cliff. Every time you’re close to your release, he slows his hips into a gentle roll, only to build you up again. Ellaria simply watches, gently drawing tender circles while Oberyn toys with you. Their pet. 

“Please,” you beg. “I want to come.” 

You sound teary and embarrassed. Oberyn kisses your neck. “You have been good,” he murmurs, eyes moving to Ellaria. “What do you say?” 

“Let her come,” she sighs, smiling. “Make it feel good for her, Oberyn.” 

Oberyn makes a sound of eager approval. His one hand slips between your legs as the other grasp your breast, keeping your sweat-soaked body flush against him. His fingers draw tight, quick circles around your clit as he presses into you, hips smacking against your flesh over and over. 

It doesn’t take you long after that. 

Your orgasm hits you like a truck—hell, it hits you like a train. It’s violent, intense. Every muscle grows taut and your skin tingles as if it’s burned. You can’t even cry out properly, your mouth wide in a silent scream. Something warm trickles down your thighs, and if it wasn’t for Oberyn’s constant, steady praise in your ear you would’ve been embarrassed. But instead, you just slump against him. Your body feeling limp as if you might never be able to stand again. He rolls his hips, and each time waves of pleasure wash over you, it’s not as intense, but it feels amazing. 

“That’s it,” he rasps. “I’m going to pull out now, okay?” 

Your nod is followed by a hiss when he does, the sudden lack of him making you feel empty, and frankly, a little bit sad. However, you don’t get the chance to linger on the feeling as Oberyn guides you toward the empty spot next to Ellaria. 

She holds you in a tight embrace, whispering praise into your hair. Oberyn shuffles until he’s behind her, his arm draped over her waist. His cock is still hard and heavy between his legs, glistening with your slick. 

You ask weakly to Oberyn, “What about you?” 

“Always so thoughtful,” Ellaria purrs. She throws her arm back, pulling Oberyn close by the neck. He kisses a delicate path up that follows the curve of her neck. “You don’t need to worry about him. Just relax. . . and enjoy yourself.” 

When Oberyn sinks into her, you understand why Ellaria was so eager to watch your expression. 

You stare into the small bathroom mirror above the sink, the light irritating your eyes. You’re fresh out of the shower, naked, still dripping, the drops warm as it slides down your skin. Ellaria’s reflection comes into view, also naked, her hands delicately moving over your body, examing to see if you’re hurt anywhere. 

“How do you feel?” she asks, satisfied with her examination. 

“I’m fine,” you answer dismissively, still staring at your reflection. You feel detached, your limbs slow and tenderly aching. 

Oberyn squeezes a tub of minty toothpaste over the bristles of your brush and holds your chin. Instinctively, you turn to him. He gently pinches your jaw. You open your mouth. 

He starts to brush your teeth. This man you just met, this man who just railed the ever-living shit out of you. . . is tenderly brushing your teeth. You taste the mint and without meaning to, you wrinkle your nose. He laughs. 

“It’ll be over soon.” 

The thing that makes you tear up is how delicate they are with you. It’s unexpected. They don't think you’re invincible just from your looks. They see that you’re broken, see that you want to be taken care of.  And they humor you, treating you as you wish to be treated, without you having to say so. 

They touch you as if you are a glass rose. It makes your chest ache. 

“I think I have ointment somewhere,” Ellaria mutters to herself, turning on her heel and looking over the shelves. “It will soothe your skin.” 

The small sniffle you make goes unnoticed by Ellaria but not Oberyn. With a raised eyebrow, he pulls out the toothbrush. “Rinse,” he says simply. He turns on the faucet for you and you fill your mouth with water. You swish it around. Then look to him before doing anything else. “Spit.” 

You watch as the foamy water goes down the drain. You straighten back up, watching the reflections that dance in the mirror once more. You feel his eyes on you but you’re too flustered to answer his gaze. Ellaria holds a small container of ointment, when she sees your expression her brows furrow. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” you mumble, not truly knowing the answer yourself. Oberyn opens the faucet again and rinses the toothbrush. After placing it back, he brushes his lips over yours, the gesture sparking life back into your body. “I don’t know,” you then say. “It just feels all so nice, I’m not used to. . . I don’t know, sorry.” 

“You don’t need to apologize,” Ellaria says, opening the small container. She takes a hefty amount with two fingers and rubs it into the tender skin of your asscheeks. “It’s normal. You haven’t been feeling well lately, and it’s common to feel a bit of a drop after.” 

“Is it really?” you ask. 

Oberyn answers you instead, “It is. You’ll feel much better when we’re back in bed when you’re between us.” 

Ellaria nods and you manage to smile. With a soft chuckle, you shake your head. “You two are too nice to me.” 

“The bare minimum shouldn’t be surprising you this much,” Oberyn’s gaze softens. “But we’ll fix that.” 

As the two guide you back to the bedroom, you believe they will. 

[palioom]

day seven - waxplay

pairing: oberyn martell x f!reader

word count: 514

warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; fingering, probably very unsafe waxplay, some praise kink

• kinktober 2023 masterlist •

“How does it feel, my dove?” Oberyn asked, his voice soft and smooth, watching in delight as the crimson wax dripped from the tip of the candle onto her body. 

Drawing stripes across her belly, pooling in the dip below her sternum. Decorating her as he saw fit.

She moaned, the hot sensation foreign but pleasant on her skin. Searing, for just a moment before it cooled and dried, leaving behind only a faint warmth, like a mark.

“It feels magnificent, my Prince.” Voice breathy, writhing below his dark gaze. Clearly he enjoyed this a great deal, a mischievous grin on his lips as his hand wandered higher. “Like it is burning me, but not hurting too much.”

Oberyn tilted the candle again, letting more liquid wax drip onto her breasts, letting it flow over one nipple and observing how her breath hitched, taking in the hum that followed. Her naked thighs squeezed together to relieve some of the throbbing pressure, to find some friction.

His free hand hovered closely over her body, not close enough to actually touch her, just to build up the anticipation.

“You look beautiful like this, my sweet.” Pairing the praise with more of the burning sensation as he covered her other nipple as well, her hands twisted into the silken sheets below her. 

His hand moved further down her body, only hovering still. He could see her limbs twitch whenever he lowered it enough to brush over the fine hairs covering her skin.

So responsive to his ministrations, choking on her moan when he slipped a finger between her wet folds, paired with more wax on the valley between her breasts. Finding the sensitive bud there and applying pressure.

“How does that feel?” He inquired, smirking like a devil and dripping more hot wax over her.

Her response came in the form of a moan, his fingers dipping lower and into her, her back arching and causing some of the still liquid wax to run down her body.

Letting her writhe for a bit beneath his touch, curling his fingers before he asked again.

“I asked you how you feel, my sweet dove.” His voice was firmer, more demanding, but he didn’t stop his movements. Pumping the digits in and out of her at a rapid pace, thick and girthy. “Your Prince demands an answer.”

Another moan slipped past her lips as he paired the curl of his fingers with more wax on her, so close to her peak.

“Magnificent.” She breathed out, her orgasm crashing into her shortly after. Letting her eyes roll into the back of her head, a cry of his name rolling off her tongue.

All while he watched, his own little artwork, covered in wax and still clutching his fingers tightly.

“Good, my little dove.” He chuckled quietly, withdrawing his fingers. Admiring her flushed skin. “You look beautiful like this.”

She simply nodded, delirious from the sensations he had bestowed upon her. Warm from both the wax and his words, already excited to see what else he would want to do with her.