#oberyn martell x fem!reader
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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.”
#oberyn martell x reader#oberyn martell x f!reader#oberyn martell x fem!reader#oberyn martell smut#modern oberyn martell#game of thrones fanfic#got fic#oberyn martell fanfic#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal character fanfic#space sisters secret santa 2023
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AS GOOD A REASON - SERIES MASTERLIST
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: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, MINORS GO AWAY, GoT is full of serious and harmful topics, mentions of SA, Rape (not the reader), Murder, Violence, Gore, War, Poison, Scars, Burns, Scratching, Su!c!de, AU, Age–Gap Romance, Angst, FLUFF, Eventual SMUT, Swearing, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, Blood, War, Religion References, Nudity, Domestic Abuse, Incest, Prostitution, Weapons, Fire, Horror,
Main Song: as good a reason by Paris Paloma
dividers by @saradika-graphics
CONTENTS:
SEASON 4
Chapter One: The Devil's Trumpet
Chapter Two: Coming Soon
#oberyn martell x reader#oberyn martell#oberyn martell x female reader#oberyn martell x you#oberyn martell fanfiction#oberyn martell x fem!reader#prince oberyn#ethereal writes#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal x reader#as good a reason oberyn martell#got rewrite#oberyn nymeros martell
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MR. LOVERMAN, CHAPTER 2
i finished this at like 2am after last night's episode so like?? ignore how rushed it might seem i was tired
warnings—mentions of alcohol (reader gets drunk)
[series masterlist ] [chapter 1] [chapter 3]
A couple of months went by, a lot faster than how Pedro expected it to be. Before he knows it, it's nearly Thanksgiving break. and soon, it's going to be time for winter vacation. By then, the year will already be halfway over.
Thanksgiving break wasn't as big of a deal to students, because the break was shorter. It was just a long weekend, but still–a break is a break nontheless. The worst day was the Monday before, and the Monday after.
Mondays never used to bother Pedro, frankly, he didn't mind waking up early and driving to work while the sun was still coming out, however, some moving into the apartment complex — the neighbors are less than considerate. They blast their crappy remixed music until ungodly hours of the night, which resulted in him getting a lot less sleep than before, and he couldn't quite enjoy the sun anymore. He wonders if he should've kept the house in the divorce–he paid for it after all. Though he wouldn't feel as happy in it anymore, it wouldn't be home.
He can't think of the details of his divorce for too long, it'll either make him feel upset or angry. As he's going to work, he can't be either of those things. The students shouldn't see him like that, and some of them are already upset and angry enough for both of them.
He drives into the staff parking lot at 7:02, which gives him just barely enough time to get into his classroom and prepare for the day ahead. He had a good week before vacation planned, all his students were going to the lab — he finally got the okay to perform the elephant toothpaste experiment — and he was sure that the kids would love an experiment like that. He gets his bag filled with yeast, water, and food coloring – and he's off into the building.
He can tell the staff doesn't want to be here either, their huge coffees and barely awake mumbling. He can only imagine how the students will be. Only four days, then it's a long weekend and Thanksgiving. He's only halfway to his classroom when he notices you're not too far in front of him in the hall, so he calls your name.
When you turn–you smile at the sight of your friend, honestly, you thought it would've been Jen or someone else you just didn't have the energy to talk to at the moment. "Morning, Pedro." you hum, stopping in your tracks to allow him to catch up. "What's the plan for today?"
"Elephant toothpaste!" He exclaims, turning the corner to the hallway of both your classrooms. He's already talked your ear off about this experiment – so you didn't need to ask about it again. If there was anything he was more passionate about than teaching, it was science. It's what made him such an effective teacher. "And you?"
"Nothing special. I had a test planned but honestly, I might just put on a movie." giving them a test would be pointless, and probably just piss your students off. He nods as if he heard your thoughts, "That would probably be better."
You smile, stopping at your door and finding your room's key on the Keychain. "A couple of other teachers and I are going out after school on Thursday, to celebrate the vacation." You tell him, he's standing up against a locker watching you struggle with your keys before finally pushing your classroom door open. "Probably to some bar, you're welcome to join us. If you want."
It feels nice to be included in work parties like this, to have the chance to interact with people you work with for hours on end five times a week, outside of an environment where you have to watch what you say and force this sort of politeness. However, the age thing made it harder for him.
The age gap doesn't stop him from being friends with the other teachers—the technology teacher just around the corner was fifteen or so years older than Pedro, though he can assure you he won't be at this gathering. He can already imagine the crowd it will likely be, you, Sam, and a bunch of other teachers in their late twenties to early thirties. He would be out of place, too old to be hanging out with the youth. God forbid you wanted to dance — the last time he danced was at his wedding, ten years ago. "I dunno," he says after a few moments of contemplating, playing with the lid of his coffee cup, following "Don't you think – I'll be a little out of place?" He decides to put it lightly, instead of, don't you think I won't fit in because I'm old?
"Don't be ridiculous," you dismiss, waving your hand as you put your coat and bag in the closet behind your desk. "You realize, half the staff loves you, right? Think you're the coolest guy they've met." and some other things you promised not to say.
"And the other half?"
"They don't know you."
Thursday came quicker than Pedro expected, though he should've known given it was just a four-day week, and there wasn't any productive work happening in his classroom.
He didn't give it much thought until you popped your head into his room once all the children left the school for the weekend. "Did you make up your mind?" you ask, his attention shifts to you, he can't help but notice the new way you had styled your hair today, and he made a mental note to say something about it.
"Are you sure I won't be too old for you youths?" He asks playfully, "I don't want to drag the rest of you down." To this response, you roll your eyes. "Pedro Pascal." You huff, stepping completely into his classroom. "Enough with this age nonsense, I bet you can still bust some moves. Have fun tonight."
"Fine, I'll go." He can't seem to find a way to say no to you, part of him thinks he doesn't entirely want to, it's been so long since he went out with friends and relaxed like this, perhaps it was the night of his graduation night when he went to the bar last. That feels like centuries ago now. "You don't mind if I leave at seven? I have to be in bed by eight."
"Oh, shut up! you're not that old!"
He's back in his apartment, looking frantically for any clothes to wear that weren't too business casual, this was a bar after all — he wasn't going to show up in one of his silly ties. It seemed though that everything he tried on wasn't right. As the clock got closer to the time you told him to meet everyone else, he grew impatient, throwing on black pants and a long black long-sleeved shirt, and he was on his way.
He pulls into the parking lot to see a good number of cars, but none of them look familiar to him–he was nervous that he was in the wrong place, and he's about to check his phone to reread your text before he sees you getting out of your car. He assumes you saw him when you start heading over to him. He turns the engine, slips out of his truck, and locks the door.
"Wow, wow, Mr. Pascal–don't you clean up nicely," you comment, making him re-check what he's wearing as if he forgot. "Thank you, Ms. L/N. You don't look too bad yourself." You only beam, before turning heel to head towards the bar. "Come on, old man. Times tickin' before your bedtime, and we're not spending it outside in the parking lot!"
Pedro's not fully sure what he was expecting, but it wasn't this.
He wasn't completely wrong in the sense of who came — it was more people around your age interested in the dance floor playing Lady Gaga – not that she's not amazing, that woman is a God – however, it just wasn't his groove tonight. He notices Sam is very into it, they're dancing to whatever song comes on and living in the moment. Pedro is envious for a moment, he watches everyone on the dance floor for a moment, thankfully, when you slide into the chair beside him, martini in hand, and distract him from his co-workers' choreography to Bad Romance. You've got a buzz going, not that he can blame you. If he had a designated driver, he would've been drinking a little more himself.
"Pedro," you start, there's a pause before you continue. "You gotta dance—have fun with us! you look awfully lonely sittin' here by yourself with a, what are you drinking?"
"Jack Daniels," He says, "Jack Daniels!" you exclaim.
"'m not lonely." He assures, sometimes he liked the solitude. While he did come here for a social outing, sometimes he liked to be left alone in places like this. "You should go back out there! Join your friends on the dance floor!" to his suggestion, you shake your head. Even with alcohol in your system, you're just as stubborn as when you're sober. "Not without you, no!"
"Can I ask you something?" If you were sober, he would've said something stupid like you already did. Though he figures that while you're in your current state, squinting your eyes at him, perhaps now wasn't the time to use such stale humor. "Shoot,"
"Why did you get a divorce?"
…woah.
For some reason he wasn't expecting that, not from you at least—maybe Sam, or Jenny, or one of the other teachers whose first names he can never remember. He can tell you're curious, eyebrows raised and your drink is pulled closer to you, his face suddenly feels hot, and he's blushing. He can't quite figure out why, is he embarrassed?
Divorce isn't something to be embarrassed about, it happens to more people than you might think. Yeah, he's forty-seven years old and that's a little later than when most people get divorced, but it's not like it's completely unheard of. He's not Ross Geller from the show friends, it's not like this is his second or third divorce. Still, the word haunts him and follows him around as this sort of shame, this dirty word. He feels like he's judged by teachers and students. Mr. Pascal moved here because he got divorced. That his friends walk on eggshells around him, Pedro hasn't been the same since his divorce. "She cheated on me," he replies, deciding on telling the truth about it. It's the best way to face it, his life fell to shambles because his wife — the woman who he promised to love through sickness and health — decided to find comfort in the arms of another, he can't sleep as well as he used to because he moved out of his home where he had caught them, he couldn't stay there because of the reminders in each hallway what used to be.
He's caught off guard when you make a "tsk" sound, "I can't believe that," you say, "Who can cheat on you? I mean you're sweet, you're funny, and attractive, any woman would be lucky to have you!" While touched by your words that he assumes is meant to be a ego boost, he knows that he didn't give you the entire story.
"I was kind of being a shitty husband, I was drowning myself in work all the time, n' when I wasn't working, I wasn't giving her an equal amount of my time either. She found someone who would, I can't blame her for that." You wave your hand as if that part doesn't matter. "Whatever, I still can't believe someone would cheat on you. I mean, you're a heartthrob, who could let that go?" He knows you don't mean it — if you do, you're too drunk to be willingly saying it. Not to him at least, he underestimated your buzz.
"Who's your driver for tonight?" he asks, choosing not to comment on what you said to save you any embarrassment in case you wake up tomorrow and remember this. "Sam," you say, looking at the dance floor to point to them as if Pedro hadn't ever met them before. When you go to do that, you discover that they're gone. Apparently, they left. Leaving you abandoned, because well, Pedro sure as hell was not going to allow you to drive home. He pays for his drinks, and offers his arm out to you, which you not-so-gracefully stumble into. "Where we goin', Mr. Pascal?" you ask while he guides you to the doors of the bar. You're leaning into his chest, he's a lot leaner than you thought, and he smells vaguely of vanilla. "I'm taking you to my house," he sighs, patting his pockets until he finds his keys, unlocking the car to help you in.
He sighs once he's finally got you into the car, he's thankful that he went because god knows where you could've been by now, and he doesn't want anything happening to you—he's also thankful because he has material to tease you about once you're well enough to understand.
I'm a heartthrob. He thinks, smirking wide as he gets into the driver's seat.
TAGLIST:
@djarinsstuff @doodlebob-mp3 @wanniiieeee @zeyzeys-stuff @jay1bird23 @corpsebridenightamare @queerponcho
#pedro pascal#x reader#reader insert#fem reader#female reader#pedro pascal x reader insert#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal fic#narcos#joel miller#javier pena#oberyn martell#ghostly wisp#mr. loverman
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Bonded
Summary: All your life you were prepared to get married to a lord. Obedient and quiet was all you had learned to be. But Oberyn knew there was so much more you could be if you just had the time to be free and happy.
Pairing: Oberyn Martell x fem. Reader
Wordcount: 3.6k
Rating: G
Warnings: arranged marriage, big age gap, angst, supportive Oberyn (even though he's kind of a dick in the beginning), fluff, discussions of lovers, talk about brothels
Masterlist
“If you walk out of that door, you will lose your title,” Doran’s voice hissed from across the room, making Oberyn stop in his tracks. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.
“It’s how things work. You know this,” Doran continued.
“You should know I don’t really care for the way things work,” Oberyn grumbled as he turned around to face his brother.
“This marriage will unite our kingdoms. Just charme her, rumours say she is one of the most beautiful women of the realm.”
Oberyn huffed.
“Beauty alone doesn’t say anything about someone.”
Doran rolled his eyes.
“She’s about to arrive. You should go meet her.”
“I will meet her at the altar tomorrow. For now, I have somewhere to be,” Oberyn turned around, leaving the room.
“Spare some of your seed for your bride, brother,” Doran called after him and Oberyn rolled his eyes.
You weren’t very fond of the sea.
Never had been.
But it had been drilled into you that boat rides were necessary for your future. Who would want a wife that couldn’t travel or spent the whole ride sick?
You fought the nausea, closing your eyes and taking deep, slow breaths.
You had no idea what would wait for you in the Kingdom of Dorne.
Your father didn’t even bother to travel with you.
Not that you thought he would.
You were his sixth daughter to be married off and not even his favourite. He never made a big secret out of it either.
But still you did everything in your power to please him.
“We’ll be arriving soon,” you just nodded at whoever informed you, keeping your gaze out of the sea where you could already see land.
You were alone. Alone and lonely like you had been all your life.
You didn’t allow yourself to dream that maybe your life finally would have some purpose.
You would become a wife tomorrow.
To a man you had never met before, but read about.
Prince Oberyn Martell.
The red viper.
You knew he was much older than you. By almost twenty years.
You knew he was a great fighter.
And that he had lovers both male and female throughout the realm.
When you were younger you dreamed of falling in love one day. With a man of your choosing. To have a loving family. And children.
But you learned pretty quickly that this wasn’t in your future. That your only purpose was to be pretty and then spread your legs for the husband your father would choose for you.
You would do obey your husband, do everything he asked of you with a smile. You would endure everything he did to you with a smile.
You would be the perfect wife.
Obedient and quiet. Just like you had been taught.
It’s not like you had a choice in that matter.
Oberyn was… fashionably late to his own wedding. He ignored the glare from his brother as he made his way down the aisle.
He had to admit it was beautifully decorated. The whole palace garden in bloom, the sun setting behind the arch decorated with sunflowers he was standing in front. He had just so gotten dressed in his official robes before he made his way outside.
He was positively exhausted.
He had made sure to not step back into the palace to be there when his future wife arrived. He still wasn’t fond of the idea of getting married.
But he also knew he could not talk his way out of this.
He had said no many many times to a marriage.
Because he wanted to marry for love not for obligation. Call him a romantic, but a marriage shouldn’t just serve a purpose. It shouldn’t be a political arrangement. It should be a union between two people who were in love. Who couldn’t live without each other.
Doran would have married him off years ago if he had found someone suitable enough.
He couldn’t say no now. Not with this little time to get out of it.
Not with war on the horizon.
He was snapped out of his thoughts when music started playing. He took a deep breath, looking at his brother before his eyes focused on the woman walking towards him.
You tried to not be too disappointed that your husband to be did not even want to meet you before you were to marry him.
You had been welcomed by Prince Doran who welcomed you to the family before you were brought to your chambers where you spent the hours until dinner.
You thought you might meet the prince then, but he did not show his face.
Instead you met the whole rest of your new family, trying to keep up with all the names and faces. You had waited until after dinner to excuse yourself, trying to smile through the disappointment of Prince Oberyn not joining the rest of this family.
You wondered if you did something wrong, shaking your head to yourself immediately.
You couldn’t have done anything wrong, you hadn’t met the prince.
Not yet anyway.
So you feel in a restless sleep, allowing the tears you had been holding in ever since leaving your home to fall against the soft pillow you were resting on.
You were woken up by a servant, Olya, she told you was her name. She was a beautiful young woman and she informed you that she was to be your handmaiden. You smiled at her before she went to the bathing suite to prepare a bath for you.
She stayed with you the whole day. Braiding your hair, massaging oils into your skin that smelled so good you asked her to keep them stocked.
She helped you get dressed in the most beautiful dress you had ever seen.
It was white, golden lace with the dornish suns stitched into the sheer fabric.
You looked so grown up when you saw yourself. It showed so much skin you were a little uneasy, asking Olya for your maiden cloak.
She had put it around your shoulder, the green of the cloak not looking right to you.
You shook your head, taking the cloak off, looking at yourself.
Taking a deep breath you asked her to put the cloak away, deciding that you wouldn’t wear it.
If your father did not care to attend your wedding, why should you care to wear the cloak?
Things went fast after that.
You were led out of your room, Olya informing you that your things would be brought to your new chambers, the Prince’s chambers.
You took a deep breath, asking for something to drink just before you were due to walk outside. Olya brought you some wine and you asked if you could have a moment to yourself at the fountain.
You emptied the wine, setting the cup down in front of the fountain as you tried to fight the tears.
It was just the first day. It would be okay. You would settle in and you would learn to love it here. You would learn…
Footsteps came down the stairs and you hurried to hide behind the fountain.
A man rushed down the stairs, dressed in a golden robe, his skin tanned from the sun. You frowned, stepping out from your hiding spot when you saw Olya approaching you.
“Are you ready?” she asked and you nodded.
“I have to be,” you whispered, missing the sad smile Olya gave you as you walked past her.
The gardens were beautiful.
They were so beautiful they helped you over the sorrow that nobody you knew, nobody who cared about you was attending your wedding. The music started playing and you gulped, taking a deep breath.
You did not even have someone to walk you down the aisle.
So you kept your head up high as you slowly walked down the aisle, finally getting that first look at your husband you had wanted for so long. You were surprised it was the man who had rushed past you by the fountain.
The closer you got the harder your heart was beating.
He looked kind. A smile on his face.
You couldn’t make out if it was genuine, but you hoped it was. Stopping in front of Doran you bowed once before turning and walked towards the prince.
He nodded at you as you stood in front of him, looking quickly away from him as the ceremony began.
Doran had been right, you were beautiful.
Even more beautiful than Oberyn could have imagined.
But you were also young. So very young.
You only glanced at him and in this moment he saw how nervous you were. A smile was on your face but your eyes. Your eyes told a different story.
Oberyn felt guilty he hadn’t at least tried to give you a better welcome.
He was snapped out of his thoughts when the vows were to be spoken. He repeated the words, listened to you repeating them too before you were announced as the Princess of dorne.
His wife.
He risked a glance at his brother seeing his approving nod and Oberyn fought against the eyeroll he wanted to give him.
The guests were applauding and Oberyn reached his hand out for you, turning his palm up. You looked at him, then at his hand before you hesitantly took it.
Usually you would kiss now but he did not feel comfortable kissing you without your consent. Instead he smiled at you and brought your hand up so he could kiss you there.
He felt you squeeze his hand, before you walked back down the aisle and back into the palace.
He found you after food had been served.
“May I have a moment?” Prince Oberyn asked as you were standing on a balcony, looking over the garden.
“Of course, your highness,” you said, giving him a small smile.
“I am your husband, I think you can call me by my first name,” he teased and you nodded.
He came to stand beside you and you felt his warmth against your arm.
“I am sorry I was unable to meet you when you arrived,” he began. “I could lie to you and tell you I was busy but I don’t want to start this union on a lie. You deserve better than that.”
“You don’t know me…” you said and he turned so he could look at you.
“That is true. But I hope with time I will get to know you.”
You took a deep breath as you looked up at him.
“I was angry. That is why I wasn’t there to meet you,” Oberyn said.
“Angry at me?” you whispered.
“In a way. But let me explain. My brother only informed you of our union yesterday when you were about to arrive. He has been nagging me about getting married for a long time but I… I never found the right partner.”
“You only learned about this yesterday?” you asked in surprise. He nodded.
“How long have you known?”
“A month at least.”
He sighed before he chuckled.
“If I had known a month ago you would not be standing here. I would have found a way to get out of this again,” he hummed, more to himself.
You looked away from him, not sure what to feel.
“I… I will see you for the bedding ceremony,” you whispered, about to turn away when you felt his hand on your wrist, stopping you.
“There will be no bedding ceremony. We do not follow these barbaric traditions in Dorne,” he said and you looked at him. Confused.
“But how… I thought…” you shook your head and the Prince took a step towards you, tilting your chin up.
“I do not force myself on lovers. And I surely won’t myself on my wife tonight or ever. You don’t have to share the bed with me at all. I want you to be happy. This is now your home.”
“But it’s my duty…”
He stopped you.
“Fuck duty. If I would care for duty I’d be married for more than twenty years already and probably look more like my brother,” he joked and you couldn’t help but smile.
The first genuine smile you had smiled in years.
“Oberyn?” you asked and he nodded.
“Thank you,” you said. Deep down you had been freaking out about this night, but now a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You hadn’t been forced to marry a brute. Maybe… Maybe with time you could become friends.
“You are most welcome princess.”
The prince, Oberyn, was gone most of the day.
You didn’t know where, and you did not ask. But he made sure to be in your chambers for dinner almost every night
He became a friend. Your best friend.
Almost six months after the wedding Dorne finally felt like home.
Though it had been complicated in the beginning.
All your life you had been taught that you had tasks and duties after you got married. That the most important task would be to produce an heir.
But here in Dorne?
You got to live. To be free. To find yourself.
Of course you had your duties. But they were few.
Most of the days you spend the mornings in the library, reading as many books as you could. Occasionally Oberyn would join you and recommend a book for you to read.
After the library you would find his eldest daughters Obara and Nymeria to have lunch with before you would leave to visit either the orphanage or the gardens. You would ride out with Olya when it wasn’t too hot outside.
You would spend time in the kitchen with the cooks, letting them teach you how to cook and bake. Something you always had wanted, but weren’t allowed to when you grew up because a lady did not have to know how to prepare her own food.
Oberyn noticed the changes in you too.
You started to smile more. The shyness of the beginning wears off pretty quickly. You had asked him only days after the wedding if it would be okay to have your own chambers, after you noticed that he did not spend much time in his while you were there.
You were now living in the chambers next to his with a door connecting it that was only rarely closed.
You picked up painting. He caught you one evening after coming back from the brothel as you were sitting outside in only your robe, your skin still wet as you painted the sun sinking behind the gardens.
“Back early today, husband?” you asked after you noticed him and he gave you a sheepish smile as he came closer.
“I found myself yearning to spend some time with my wife,” he said and you chuckled. He sat down on the chair to your right, watching you as you continued to paint.
“I…” you took a deep breath, “I have a question.”
“Ask away,” he smiled, turning his head to give you his full attention. You set the brush down, and turned towards him.
“Would you kiss me?” you asked and Oberyn was rarely surprised, but in this case he was.
“You wish for me to kiss you?” he asked. You nodded slowly.
“I… I want to know how it feels and… you’re my husband so I should be asking you, shouldn’t I?” you sucked your bottom lip in.
Oberyn smiled and took a deep breath.
“My sun, you shouldn’t be asking me just because I am your husband. Your first kiss should be with someone you chose because you’re…. You want to be with them. In every way possible. Because you long for them. Not because you feel like it has to be me. Not that I don’t want to kiss you.”
“Oh…” you said, feeling a little silly.
“Do you have someone that makes you feel that way?” he asked. He could see you flustered, and a small smile sneaked to his face.
“Tell me about them.”
And so you did. You told him about one of the stable boys, and how you came to spend most of your time with him. He taught you how to brush the horses and how to tend to them.
“I like him,” you said, reaching over to take Oberyn’s hand. “But I also like spending time with you. You have become my closest friend. You are my husband after all. And… I know I haven’t been what you are looking for in a wife. I know where you… go because I don’t…”
“I don’t go to see my lovers because you are not a good wife. I go to them because I want to be with them. And if you chose to take a lover or more I am more than okay with that. I don’t believe only one person can satisfy all your needs, be it physical or spiritual. Or maybe I haven’t found the person yet.”
“Do you want to be with me like that?” you asked quietly, not daring to look at him.
You felt his fingers under your chin and he smiled softly at you.
“I love you. I did not see it coming, but I find myself happy that you came into my life. But I won’t stand in the way of you being able to explore what you really want. We are married, but that does not mean we have to live by antiquated rules someone made thousands of years ago.”
He leaned in and kissed your forehead before he got up.
“I ask for only one thing,” he said and you looked up at him.
“Tell me about everything,” he said with a smirk and you chuckled.
“Will you tell me too?” you asked.
“All you have to do is ask,” he winked, before he walked out of your chambers and into his.
It was a couple of days later.
You were walking through the gardens, picking flowers when you saw Oberyn playing with his youngest, throwing her in the air before he caught her, the girl laughing so loudly she surely could be heard though the whole kingdom.
You smiled as you approached them.
“Paapaaaa,” the girl giggled and you gave the flowers to one of the servants with a smile who nodded and walked back inside the palace.
“Look who it is, little Sandsnake,” Oberyn said with a warm smile, setting Loreza down who walked towards you, her arms wide open. You got on your knees, opening your arms and she jumped at you, making you almost lose your balance with a laugh as you picked her up.
“Have you been playing with your Papa?” you asked and she nodded, immediately telling you about every little thing they had done together today. You nodded and listened to her.
“I think it’s time for your nap, Loreza,” one of the servants said as she approached you. Loreza pouted.
“If you take a nap now, maybe we can help bake some cake in the kitchens later?”
“Can we?” she asked with big eyes. You looked at Oberyn who only nodded with a smile.
“Of course we can. I’ll find you after your nap, okay?”
She threw her little arms around your neck, giving you a big wet kiss on your cheek before you set her down, the servants leaving you and Oberyn alone.
You began to walk deeper into the gardens, Oberyn by your side.
“My children love you,” he said and you looked up at him.
“I love them too. They are so much like you,” you smiled.
You walked in silence for a while.
“I kissed the stable boy. Well.. I kissed Bolerio. I think I should know his name.”
You did not dare to look at Oberyn.
“How was it?” he asked and you sighed.
“I don’t know. Either I have read too many books about how a kiss should feel or it… just wasn’t good.”
Oberyn chuckled next to you and you stopped walking.
“Are you laughing about me?” you narrowed your eyes and he turned around to you.
“I am not. I am merely surprised at your choice of lecture. I only see you reading books about science and Dorne.”
You flustered as he took a step towards you.
“Oberyn,” you gulped and took a step closer. Hesitantly you brought one hand up to rest on his chest, looking up at him. A smile was playing in the corner of his lips and you felt one of his hands come to rest on your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin.
“Please kiss me,” you whispered.
He tipped your face up as he leaned down, his other hand coming to rest on your hip. He looked at you, as if to make sure that this was indeed what you wanted before he crossed the small distance between you and his lips found yours.
You closed your eyes moving your lips against his as goosebumps erupted over your whole body. A shudder running down your spine and you brought your other hand up to rest on his shoulder, your knees feeling weaker, the longer he kissed you.
Parting from your lips he rested his forehead against yours, both out of breath.
“That… That was…. Better. That was much better….” you mumbled and he huffed a laugh.
“Can we do that again?” you asked and he smiled at you.
“That and so much more, my princess,” he said before he kissed you again.
#my fic#oberyn martell#Oberyn Martell x fem. reader#Pedro Pascal#game of thrones#fanfic#fanfiction#fan ficion
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It’s that time of year again!!! I’m using @absurdthirst template for kinktober this year and here is my schedule.
***These are gonna be very heavy on the smut and some will also be quite dark so please heed all warnings before you read.***
1: Shibari - Marc Spector x f!reader
2: Gagging - Pero Tovar x f!reader
3: Threesome - Frankie x f!reader x Santiago
5: A/B/O - Frankie Morales x f!reader
6: Underwear- Marcus Pike x f!reader
7: Bath/Shower sex - Pero Tovar x f!reader
12: Cock Warming - Joel Miller x f!reader
13: Monster Fucking - Werewolf!Ezra x f!reader
17: Hate Fucking - Joel Miller x f!reader
19: Somnophilia - Din Djarin x f!reader
21: Breeding - Pero Tovar x f!reader
22: Sex Pollen - Javier Pena x f!reader
23: Erotic Dancing - Marcus Pike x f!reader
25: Lactation - Din Djarin x f!reader
30: Public Sex - Frankie Morales x f!reader
#pedro pascal#frankie morales x female reader#marcus pike x female reader#javier peña x fem!reader#oberyn martell x female reader#dean winchester x reader#marc spector x reader#joel miller x f!reader#pedro pascal x reader#dieter bravo xf!reader
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Release Updates:
So, I have gotten Covid (for the 4th time FML) so I'm going to be setting myself a little bit of wiggle room for my upcoming long fics:
@idontgetanysleep makes all my line dividers, check them out!
General Warnings: 18+, as is the whole of my blog, I will mark anything specific but be aware this is predominantly a smutty blog with plot. DNI if you are a minor. By reading further you have taken the responsibility to do so with the warnings I have given.
SNAFU - Chapter 4 releasing this week (by Saturday 12th August)
Where were you on Outbreak Day - Chapter 1 - Imminent, almost complete so expect this week.
The Fox and The Viper Chapter 3 - By end of August
Breaking the Rules - Chapter 9 by the end of August/Start of September
Worlds Collide Chapter 4 (By Mid-September)
One shots:
Joel x Reader (No Age Gap) Jackson Era fluffy Smut - Imminent
Francisco "Catfish" Morales x Santiago "Pope" Garcia x reader Smut MMF - Imminent
Let me know if you want to be on my taglist for specific works or generally!
Tag List: @yvonneeeee @notsosecretspy @jadealicious06 @famouslyanonymous @harriedandharassed @casa-boiardi @pimosworld @brittmb115 @bitchwitch1981
#pedro pascal#fanfic#pedro pascal characters#joel miller#ao3 fanfic#smut#joel miller x reader#the mandalorian#joel miller smut#din djarin#frankie morales/fem!reader#frankie morales#frankie morales x you#frankie catfish morales#francisco morales#frankie morales fanfiction#frankie x reader#triple frontier fanfiction#oberyn martell x ofc#oberyn martell#prince oberyn#oberyn nymeros martell#oberyn martell fanfiction#joel miller x you#joel the last of us#team joel#joel x reader#din djarin x afab! reader#din djarin x f!reader
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Girls & Boys - blurb
Pairings: Oberyn Martell x fem!reader x Ellaria Sand, Matt Murdock x fem!reader x Elektra Natchios, Damon Salvatore x fem!reader x Elena Gilbert,
Warnings: NSFW (Minors dni)
Tags: Threesomes (MFF), Bisexual [used as an umbrella term], switch!reader, food play, cunnilingus, fingering, shifting position, fainting, multiple orgasms, praise, degradation, bruises, making out, cum eating, oral fixation?, love bites, choking, finger fucking, cum shower, first time, teasing, little to no proofreading.
Word Count: 1,287
A/N: I have fed my bisexual fantasies, I will sleep good tonight. My third piece for Lazy Ghouls Spooktober under prompt 'threesomes.'
You can not take my work or translate it without my permission. This piece of fiction is mine, and only the characters belong to their original creators.
Oberyn Martell and Ellaria Sand
Both are vocal with their praises in adoration of you.
Oberyn is far more doting in his praise, opting to whisper how good you make him feel in your ear or compliment your beauty while you ride him. When he’s between your legs, he likes to smother the compliments that flow from his lips into your clavicle… his Dornish accent growing heavier with each second he comes closer to release.
Ellaria is different. She throws out compliments with the energy of a command, intertwining demeaning language in between. “You’re so good to me my pretty little whore~” she’d usher out between aches and moans as she rode your tongue.
Oberyn and Ellaria both chose you, but let’s be honest… Ellaria is the one who really picked you. Oberyn loves all women and is willing to please the many if granted the choice. He treats you nicely, but it’s Ellaria who acts as if you belong to her. She parades you for all to see like you’re a prize.
Ellaria often likes to watch Oberyn have his way with you. But you’re not innocent, you purposely give her lustful glances or all-out keep eye contact with Ellaria; no matter if Oberyn’s hips are snapping into yours or if he’s spending endless minutes between your legs tending to your core.
When you do this, Ellaria more than likely just observes and smirks at your playful nature. But sometimes, if you push her too far, she’ll shamelessly lift her dress to toy with her heat with her fingers. She’ll make sure you can both hear her moans.
Once Oberyn has worked you over the edge more than enough times, he’ll tend to his wife. He’d bend her over your torso, making sure you feel every thrust no matter how exhausted you are.
When he cums, he makes sure to pull out so he can share his spend amongst you two. His ropes of cum coating Ellaria’s back and your tits. For good measure, he’d swipe through the white coat with his two fingers, just so that he could find it a place on your tongue.
When one of your many escapades is finished, Ellaria feeds fruit platters by hand into Oberyn's mouth. But, don’t feel left out. Oberyn will be sure to cradle the ripe grapes or strawberry slivers between his teeth so that he can share them with you. He likes the taste mixture when he kisses you.
Ellaria will get jealous. She’ll take over, kissing you so longingly that the night begins again. She’ll repeat mantras between heated breaths, “Mine” “You’re mine, little viper.”
Oberyn will watch contentedly for a little while before joining in on the fun.
Matthew Murdock and Elektra Natchios
Matt will definitely be in a mood when you three finally get it on for the first time. He gets quiet, thrumming with energy that he can barely contain. Unable to quell the devil within him, especially with all the history that rests between him and Elektra.
Elektra, who on the battlefield acts like a wild panther, is tamed to a house cat when under the attention of both you and Matt. She becomes pliable under Matt’s rough hands and reduced to whimpers when you work her sensitive bud with your tongue.
Elektra becomes increasingly more sensitive with Matt’s hand around her throat, his hips rolling to meet hers, dragging out a moan from her lips with every thrust. After all, Matt typically liked to take things slow, opting to savor it.
Matt would fight off release at the glide of your tongue on his shaft, prodding at his head in sparse intervals each time he unsheaths himself from Elektra’s cunt.
A frequent position revisited by the group has you on your back in missionary for Matt; Elekra mounting you with her back arched and ass presented. Matt plows into you from this position, his hands marking deep bruises into your hips. All while your hand reaches around Elektra’s thigh, plunging two fingers into her eager pussy. Elektra would be fucked dizzy from your fingers, trying to ground herself by latching her lips onto yours.
Once you’d cum more than one time from Matt’s cock, he would switch to Elektra, fucking up into her with a speed that left her breathless. She wouldn’t be able to think, especially with you rubbing tight circles onto her clit.
After Elektra cums, likely for a fourth or fifth time, she quite literally passes out. Every time this happens, you and Matt often dote on her. The two of you cleaning up, especially when looking after her. Matt would have a content smile resting peacefully upon his lips.
Any time the three of you have sex, it likely ends in you and Matt having idle conversation before you all sleep the night off. When you wake, Elektra always makes a show of wearing Matt’s shirt. The article of clothing often looks like a dress on her tiny frame.
Elektra would return to her sharp flirtations and witty remarks as if nothing happened. But you and Matt both know that you could reel her in with a few simple moves.
Damon and Elena
Elena is needy. The only way this works is if you accommodate that. So, be ready to have to direct your energy towards her in any relationship, including physical. But, lucky for you, Elena actually was okay with a threesome with her boyfriend’s best friend. Funnily enough, it was her idea. It would also be her first time with a partner of the same sex, as well as her first time having a threesome.
When things started off, Damon sat in audience with a glass of bourbon; the buttons of his black shirt undone as he slumped into the couch. He mirrors a separate couch, there seated are you and Elena.
She kneels in front of you, her hands pressing into her thighs in a clear display of anxiousness. Even the rock music that plays faintly in the background doesn’t ease her nerves.
You ask for her permission with every move; allowing you to comb your fingers through the silkiness of her straight hair, lifting her chin in a delicate hold, and placing cautious kisses on her plush lips. Eventually, her hands migrate to drape over your shoulders, signaling a slight release of her hesitancy.
It's not long before Damon abandons his empty glass to sit behind her, gently kneading his fingers into her dainty shoulder blades. His mouth found its spot against the pulse point of her neck, leaving pink blemishes as he traveled up the length of her fair skin to linger below her jaw.
Elena lifts her head to offer him room, growing heavy on her shoulders. You decide to reflect his actions, following what Damon knows to already be successful in wooing the Gilbert girl. Elena shivers at the sensation, not used to the second person. A faint whimper makes its way past her lips, to which you and Damon both smile.
As the night progresses, you end up behind Elena’s back, the two of you lying on Damon’s bed in the boarding house. You support her weight as she leans into you. Damon stands at the bedpost, between her legs. He’s purposeful with his languid thrusts, which you accent with your fingers on Elena’s clit. Your other hand traces the curves of her body, slowly traversing the smoothness of her skin.
Elena likes being pampered, and it shows in the arousal coating her legs.
“Look at how wet you are,” Damon boasts with a mischievous glint.
Elena is silent besides the moans that fill the room like a song, hiding her face behind her hands in embarrassment.
#x reader#imagine#fanfiction#blurb#oberyn martell#prince oberyn#ellaria sand#oberyn x reader x ellaria#matt murdock#elektra natchios#matt x reader x elektra#damon salvatore#elena gilbert#damon x elena#damon x reader x elena#x fem!reader
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‧₊˚✧ requests currently open for…✧˚₊‧
kpop…
seventeen
pedro pascal…
javier peña
frankie morales
din djarin
joel miller (hbo and pixel joel ˙ᵕ˙)
the walking dead…
daryl dixon
the bear…
mikey berzatto
richie jerimovic
other…
ellie williams (mother/older sister-figure!reader)
a/n: this list will get updated whenever i change for who i‘m currently writing for ˙ᵕ˙
#requests open for#wonwoosthetic#din djarin#Joel miller#Frankie morales#Francisco Morales#Oberyn martell#Javier Peña#domestic#fluff#smut#Angst#x reader#x you#imagines#imagine#request#one shot#x fem!reader#Seventeen#kpop#the punisher#Frank Castle#the bear#carmy berzatto#mikey berzatto#richie jerimovich#carmy#Mikey
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A Real Daddy?
Summary: You sat in bed watching Pedro's latest interview;
Jeff Bridges: "Are you a daddy?"
Pedro: "I'm not a daddy. And I'm not gonna be a daddy!"
Your heart shattered at his words as you looked over at the bathroom where six positive tests were sitting on the sink.
Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 3.6k
Warnings: language, mentions of abortion
A/N: This fanfic was a commission request. She wanted a short Pedro x Reader where Y/N is nervous to tell him that she is pregnant, and after watching his Hollywood Reporter Roundtable interview, I had to incorporate it into the fic. I hope you all enjoy it ❤️ (gif found on Google, credit to the owner)
You and Pedro had been together for a couple of years now after meeting long ago on the set of Game of Thrones.
The two of you had hit it off right away and had become close friends during the filming of Season 4, but somewhere along the way that friendship had turned into so much more.
Watching Pedro perform as Oberyn Martell wearing that mustard-coloured robe with his unique accent, you never stood a chance. The man was a gift sent from the Gods and for whatever reason, he had taken a liking to you.
"Are you sure you're okay? You still look a little pale." Pedro observed, leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom. His beautiful brown eyes met yours from where you were laying under the blankets, and you could see the concern washing over him as he stared at you.
"I'm probably just coming down with something. I'll be fine. Aren't you meant to be at the airport by now?" You asked, glancing at the alarm clock on your nightstand with a frown.
He had less than an hour before boarding. He really should be halfway to the airport by now.
"Maybe I should reschedule. I don't want to leave you alone-"
"Pedro. You can't reschedule, you start filming Gladiator tomorrow. I'm fine. I promise." You reassured, but your words didn't seem to reassure him in the slightest and you sighed.
He had been working so hard for his new role in Gladiator. With his vigorous diet and workout routine, he had pushed his body to the max for this role. You were so incredibly proud of him. There was no way you were letting him reschedule.
"You were throwing up all morning. You're not fine. I want to take care of you." He all but whispered, walking into the room and sitting down on the edge of your bed.
He lifted his hand, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as he cupped your face gently and smiled softly at you. You leant into his touch and rested your hand on top of his.
"I love you for that, but I don't need you to take care of me. I can take care of myself."
He sighed, "if you get any worse then you call me, okay?"
You rolled your eyes, "Pedro-"
"You call me." You repeated sternly and you nodded.
"I promise. Now, go before you miss your flight." You said, shoving him gently off the bed. "Text me when you land so I know you're okay."
"I will, baby. I love you." He said, leaning down and kissing your forehead. "Get some rest, okay?"
"I will. I love you, P." You replied smiling softly at him before he grabbed his suitcase and walked out the room.
-
Life as you knew it continued on as per usual. That weird stomach bug would come and go, but you just put it down to work stress and bad food.
Pedro was still filming Gladiator overseas and wasn't due back home for another couple of weeks. It was hard whenever he was away, which was fairly often with your line of work. Acting was a very demanding job and although you were taking a break for a while after you had just finished shooting you last movie, Pedro had job after job lined up for the rest of the year.
You were happy for him though. From Narcos to The Mandalorian to The Last of Us, he had really shot to fame. He was the talk of the whole internet at the moment, and you were so proud of how far he had come, you honestly couldn't be happier for him, but a small jealous part of you sometimes wished he wasn't as popular.
He had writers and directors calling and emailing him constantly about job offers and interviews. The two of you rarely got to spend any time together.
It was part of the job though. You both lived busy lives with your acting careers. You knew it would be like this when you first started dating. The two of you had spoken about it before making things official between you, knowing that if you were really serious with each other that you guys would make it work, and you have. But it still sucked sometimes.
However, as you sat on the edge of your bathtub staring at the pregnancy test on the sink, you wished more than anything that he was here with you now.
There were still a few minutes before the test was done and you sat anxiously tapping the empty packet against your knee while you waited.
Neither of you had really spoken about wanting kids in the future. The topic had just never come up. You were too busy with your careers to even think about having kids, but now you were really wishing that you and Pedro have had that conversation. Did he even want kids? Did you even want kids? It was too much to think about.
As if on cue, your phone suddenly began to vibrate in your pocket, and you pulled it out to find Pedro's name on your screen.
He was calling you.
Shit.
You glanced over at the upturned test before taking in a deep breath and pressing the little green accept button.
"Hey!" You said into the phone with as much joy and excitement as possible, not wanting him to know that something was wrong.
"Hey, baby. It's so good to hear your voice. How are you feeling? My sister called and said you sounded a little flat yesterday on the phone."
Yeah, yesterday wasn't a great day. Your body decided that it didn't want to keep any food inside of you, even the plain toast for breakfast came back up. His sister had called at the worst possible time for a chat. You had tried to sound normal, but apparently you hadn't fooled her. You should have known she would tell him.
"Oh, yeah, sorry. Just wasn't feeling great yesterday. I'm good today though, but enough about me. How's Gladiator going?" You asked, and if Pedro noticed your sudden change in topic, he didn't comment on it.
"It is great! Joe and I had this really intense fight scene, and we did it in one take! Which was crazy because during rehearsal we kept laughing and dropping our swords, but we totally nailed it."
You smiled at how happy he sounded as you stared at the pregnancy test packet in your hand anxiously. You couldn't tell him. He was happy and in the middle of filming and you probably weren't pregnant anyway, no point in making him worry for no reason, right?
"Sounds like you've had a good day then." You replied.
"The best! Oh, remember when I did that Hollywood Reporter Roundtable interview?"
"With Jeff Bridges, Evan Peters and the other guys?"
"Yeah, that one. It's finally been released.
"Finally! I've been dying to watch it. Is it on YouTube?" You asked, putting him on speaker while you opened up the YouTube app on your phone to find it.
"You don't have to watch it. It goes for alike an hour and I'm probably just staring at Jeff Bridges the whole time. I don't know how I got through any scenes with him back when we were filming Kingsman together, that man is a legend." He admitted with a chuckle.
"Well now I have to watch it." You responded causing Pedro to laugh through the phone before you heard a voice shout in the background, but you couldn't hear what they were saying.
Pedro sighed, "sorry, baby. I gotta get back on set. I'll call you a bit later."
"Go knock 'em dead, Gladiator. Talk later." You replied before hanging up the phone.
You found the interview on YouTube and glanced over at the pregnancy test on the sink before shaking your head. You couldn't look yet... you didn't want to look yet because if it was positive... you had no idea what you were going to do.
So instead, you walked into your bedroom and connected your phone to the television on the wall and played the Hollywood Reporter Roundtable interview hoping it would distract you.
The interview did distract you. It was a good interview and whoever decided to sit Pedro and Kieran Culkin next to each other deserved a raise because they were fantastic together.
You had almost forgotten about the pregnancy test, you were so invested in the interview until the interviewer bought up the topic of 'daddy'.
"Uh, yeah. I am." Pedro answered the question with a smile. "I am having fun with it. It seems a little role related. I think. The Mandalorian is very daddy to baby Grogu. Joel is very daddy to Ellie. These are daddy parts."
"Are you a daddy?" Jeff Bridges had asked from across the table.
"I'm not a daddy. And I am not gonna be a daddy!" Came Pedro's answer.
He didn't want to be a daddy.
That thought hadn't really occurred to you. Pedro didn't actually want kids... you knew that was a possibility since you guys had never spoken about it, but he really didn't want to be a father.
The interview was still playing on the tv, but you had long ago stopped listening.
What if you were pregnant? What were you going to do?
Abruptly, you jumped off the bed and rushed to the bathroom and your stomach dropped when you saw the two little pink lines on the pregnancy test. It was positive.
Your body was paralysed where you stood, unable to tear your eyes off the stick. That couldn't be true. It couldn't be.
But after six positive tests later, you were forced to face reality.
You were pregnant. With Pedro's baby... but he didn't want to be a father.
Pedro had stated publicly during that interview that he didn't want to be a daddy, but you were pregnant. How were you meant to tell him? When should you tell him? You couldn't tell him now. He was in the middle of filming one of the biggest roles of his career. You couldn't dump this on him now. No way.
Pedro's boisterous laugher came from the tv in your bedroom and you sighed, listening to him. His laugh had always been contagious, and you could hear the others in the interview all now laughing as well.
You loved Pedro. And he loved you too, but you couldn't go forcing this baby on him, a baby that he definitely didn't want. How could the two of you have a baby anyway? Between your busy careers, there was no time for a baby. It wouldn't be practical. It wouldn't work.
In the end, you decided to ignore the problem for now. It wasn't like it was going anywhere. So, you ignored it. Maybe you were a little in denial about the whole thing, but any normal person would be.
Pedro had noticed something was wrong almost immediately when he next called. You tried to act normal, but he knew you better than you knew yourself so hiding anything from him was stupid, but you kept trying.
He knew you were lying to him whenever he asked if you were okay, but you weren't about to drop the biggest bombshell of his life on him over a phone call. So, you kept lying.
It wasn't until a few weeks later that you came home to find Pedro sitting on the couch with your laptop open on the coffee table in front of him. That in itself wasn't anything unusual, he always used your laptop to check his emails or play solitaire. But him being home a whole week before the end of shooting was definitely not right.
He hadn't noticed you enter the house. He seemed too focused on something on your laptop and whatever it was, you knew it wasn't good by the way he sat with his body tense and jaw clenched.
Did something happen?
"Hey!" You greeted happily, despite the worry churning in your stomach. "I thought you weren't meant to be back until next week."
Pedro turned his head in your direction, his usual bright brown eyes were dull and hard, his brow furrowed in a frown as he turned back to the laptop.
"We finished early. I was going to surprise you." He answered, his voice flat compared to his usual cheery smiley tone, and he looked away from you avoiding your eyes.
Okay, something was definitely wrong.
"What's going on? You seem... I don't know, did something happen?" You asked worriedly, dumping your keys on the bench before walking over and sitting beside him on the couch.
"Why don't you tell me."
You frowned, "I'm not following."
"I went to check my emails, but this was already open when I turned it on." He explained, leaning forward and tilting the laptop screen towards you.
You squinted a little staring at the laptop on the coffee table before your eyes widened in utter shock. It was your booking confirmation for an abortion.
Oh, God.
"You were pregnant." He said, but it wasn't a question, he had already figured it out.
You looked away feeling tears burning in the back of your eyes. He was angry. He was trying to hold his anger back, you could tell, but he was angry. Pedro was angry at you.
"Who's was it?" He asked, when you didn't say anything.
"What?"
"Who was the father?" He repeated, causing you to look over at him in confusion. "You got an abortion without talking to me, so it obviously wasn't mine. Who was it?"
Wait, what?
Did he seriously think that...
"You think I cheated on you?" You asked in disbelief because that couldn't be what he was implying, right? You've been together for years, he wouldn't think you would do that. He wouldn't.
"Who?" He demanded, his beautiful brown eyes full of so much anger and sadness, it made your heart break.
"I didn't cheat on you. I'd never-"
"Don't lie to me!" He snapped.
You flinched back at his raised voice like he had physically slapped you across the face. Pedro had never yelled at you before. Sure, you guys have argued, every couple did, but he had never raised his voice, not like this.
The anger in his eyes subsided a bit, a flash of guilt washing over him. Instantly regretting his actions before he shook his head and stood up from the couch, heading towards the front door.
"I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have shouted at you. I just need a minute to clear my head." He said over his shoulder.
"I didn't get the abortion and I didn't cheat on you!" You hurriedly yelled, not wanting him to leave.
If he left right now... you would break down. You couldn't lose him, and you didn't want him wandering the streets of LA thinking you had slept with someone else while he was away.
Pedro froze where he stood, his hand on the door handle about to open it, "what?"
You took in a deep breath, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as you looked over at him, his back still facing you.
"I'm pregnant. It's yours, and I didn't get the abortion."
He slowly turned to face you, but you couldn't gauge his reaction. His whole body was just a blur through the tears swimming in your eyes.
"You're serious?" He asked, like he couldn't quite believe it was true.
"I'm sorry." You whispered, the tears you had been trying so hard to keep back finally falling down your face. "I'm sorry, but I didn't cheat. I-I would never cheat on you. Never. I need you to know that. I would never cheat on you."
Pedro rushed across the room, dropping to his knees in front of you and placing his hand on your knee as he looked up at you. All the anger that had been bubbling inside of him was now replaced with guilt.
"I know, baby. I know. I just... when I saw the email, I thought... I'm sorry. I should have never accused you of that. But why didn't you tell me?" He asked, his voice breaking ever so slightly as he continued. "You booked an abortion without telling me. You didn't have to go through this alone, why didn't you tell me?"
Your heart shattered at his words because you knew that was true. He would have dropped everything to be there for you, no matter the cost. He would have ruined his role on Gladiator for you in a heartbeat, and you wouldn't let him do that.
"I couldn't tell you." You whispered, tears still streaming down your face as you looked away from him, not wanting him to see you cry.
"Why not, baby? I would have been there for you. I wouldn't have forced you to do anything you didn't want to do, you know that, right?" He asked, seeming genuinely worried that you may have feared that.
You sniffed, "I know."
"So why couldn't you tell me?" He asked, his voice softer and gentler than you had ever heard it.
You thought back to that interview, your heart breaking all over again. I'm not a daddy. And I am never gonna be a daddy. Pedro didn't want this.
"You said you didn't want to be a daddy." You answered, your voice barely above a whisper.
"What?"
You looked back over at him to find him staring at you in pure confusion and you sighed, wiping the tears from your face before elaborating.
"In that Hollywood Reporter interview. You said you didn't want to be a daddy... I watched your interview and found out I was pregnant the same day."
Pedro's expression dropped, "oh, baby-"
"And you were filming Gladiator." You quickly said, cutting him off. "So, I didn't want to tell you and distract you from that job. You've worked so hard for it, and you were so happy whenever you called from set. I-I didn't want to ruin that. But... but I knew you didn't want kids and I didn't want you to feel forced to have a kid that you didn't want-"
"Breathe, baby. Y/N, breathe." Pedro reminded, squeezing your knee gently.
You sucked in a shaky shallow breath, knowing you were working yourself up, but you had to say it all now because if you didn't than you probably weren't going to say it at all.
"I booked in for an abortion, but I couldn't go through with it. I was sitting in the waiting room, I was ready to go in, but I couldn't. I couldn't do it. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." You sobbed, burying your face with your hands.
"Shh, it's okay, baby. It's okay. It's okay." Pedro reassured, getting to his feet and sitting down beside you.
He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his chest, his other arm wrapping around you tightly, holding you while you broke down in his arms. Pedro was still talking, whispering soothing words to you while you cried.
"I'm sorry you had to go through all this alone." He whispered, rubbing gentle circles over your back as he held you. "I'm so sorry, baby."
You weren't sure how long he hugged you for. The tears had eventually stopped flowing but the collar of his Lakers shirt was now damp.
"I'm sorry." You whispered, lifting your head from his chest and had to do a double take when you noticed Pedro's eyes were now red and glistening with unshed tears. Seeing him on the verge of crying made tears rise in your eyes once again, but you forced them back.
"You have nothing to apologise for. Nothing." He insisted, pulling away and cupping the side of your face with his hand, brushing the tear stains from your cheeks as he smiled softly at you. "I love you."
"You... you don't hate me?" You asked, your voice sounding as broken as you felt.
"Hate you?" He asked in shock. "I could never hate you."
"But... you don't want kids... and I'm pregnant and it's my fault and-"
"If I remember correctly, it takes two people to make a baby." He pointed out, chuckling softly as you rolled your eyes.
"I'm serious, P."
"So am I." He stated, his laughter coming to a stop as he took in a deep shaky breath. "Look, I know we've never talked about it, but I always wanted to have kids. I love kids. I love being an uncle and I love playing daddies on tv, but I had accepted that it probably wouldn't happen for me, not with my age or career."
"Pedro-" you tried to say, but he kept talking.
"I love you, Y/N. If you want to keep this baby, we will make it work, I promise. We will figure it all out. But if you don't want this, I will support that too. It is your body, baby, whatever you want to do, I will be there for you and support you."
His words sent the tears in your eyes trickling down your face once again and his own eyes softened as he brushed them away with his thumb.
"I-I don't want to force you into anything. I don't want to-"
"Baby, baby, you're not forcing me into anything." He reassured, but you shook your head.
"But the interview..."
"I said that thinking being a real daddy wasn't in the cards for me, but now it is, only if you want it to be though." He explained, putting emphasis on the last part.
You didn't say anything for a moment. A million different thoughts and emotions washing over you as you slowly nodded and met his gentle gaze.
"So, if I told you that I wanted to keep it..." You trailed off unable to finish the sentence as Pedro's eyes lit up with hope.
"I'm gonna be a real daddy?"
You smiled, "you're gonna be a real daddy."
Pedros face broke out into a bright smile, the tears in his eyes silently falling down his face before he lent forward and captured your lips with his, kissing you gently.
"I love you. I love you so much, Y/N." He whispered against your lips.
-
PART 2
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#pedro pascal#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal fanfiction#oberyn martell
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one more night in Dorne
paring: Oberyn Martell x fem!afab!Reader
rating: explicit
word count: 1,6k
summary: when the Prince came back from his trip overseas, he went straight to the thing he desired most
warnings: explicit sexual content; extreme overstimulation; oral F receiving; begging (to stop but you don't really want that); NO USE OF Y/N
Arabian Nights
Like Arabian Days
More often than not
Are hotter than hot
In a lot of good ways
Your body was splayed upon a massive bed covered in the softest silks, and the most magnificent blankets. The thin, almost transparent fabric of the canopy moved with the occasional breath of wind. Heat overwhelmed your body, sun found a way to seep under your skin and travel down your veins even when you were in the shelter of one of the most lavish rooms of the palace. Tired muscles of your quivering thighs were covered in sweat, while your eyelids could barely contain the salty rivers of tears that desired to escape your eyes.
You were in the gentle, but firm clutches of your Prince, Oberyn Martell. The Red Viper. The Insatiable Lover. The Best Cock in All of The Seven Seas. Your royal lover found you first thing when he returned from one of his trips his brother sent him to. You were just finishing cleaning up the kitchens, sweat and grime unpleasantly sticking to you as a middle layer between your skin and the billowy tunic you wore on the particularly hot days. You jumped and were ready to scream when strong hands circled your waist, one strategically going to shut your mouth so you couldn't make a noise, and a low, honey-thick sound of his voice filled your ears. "I think these kitchens look as clean as my dear brother's ass on a wash day. You're done here, my little one."
You didn't reply, and didn't try to fight him when he practically dragged you to his chambers through all the tiny corridors that intertwined like ivy vines. From what you could say, that was 4 hours ago. Sometimes your Prince liked to fool around, play the game of cat and mouse, teasing you to the point where you'd cry out of frustration praying to all the Gods, old and new, so he would just take you already. Today was not that day. As soon as he locked the massive wooden doors - something he didn't do all that often - Oberyn launched himself at you, claiming your mouth and then laying you on the bed. It wasn’t the first time you found yourself between the silken sheets of the man that unknowingly stole your heart but every time it was a thrill. You never knew what would happen, but you were ready to let him do anything his heart, mind, and cock desired. The only thing you were afraid of was that your body was too weak to handle all the strength of his undying passion.
By now you felt as if you were being flayed alive, your body shivered violently, exhausted from pleasure he insisted to give you with his mouth. He loved doing that, usually bringing you to at least one peak before claiming your cunt with his cock (you still gasped every time he slid inside you like you did that first time, when he took everything you begged him to take). Today was different, though. You came four times already, but still he wasn’t moving away. He was growling into your cunt like an animal, the hot swipes of his tongue persistent and insatiable. You’d lost count of the times you tried to pull on his short hair. In your attempts to get him to stop the unstoppable caresses of his tongue, you begged him to just fuck you, moaning how empty you felt without his gorgeous cock, but he didn’t even bother to answer you. Oberyn continued relentlessly abusing your raw flesh, letting his fingers slide inside you from time to time when you were thrashing in ecstasy.
“My Prince, I beg of you. I am going to die. I can’t take it anymore.” You prayed he’d stop, even though the tiniest part of you hoped he’d ignore you once again, and continue using your willing body for his pleasure. “Don’t you want to fuck me? Don’t you want to slide your cock in me? Or am I not worthy of your cock anymore?”
He unlatched his lips from your swollen cunt, showing you his pristine mustache covered in your cum and arousal, and smiled the most innocent of smiles. “Oh, my dear little serpent, don’t be so foolish. You know I want that." Giving you some reprieve from his mouth he still didn't let you relax, tracing his index finger up and down your swollen, drenched lips. "There’s nothing more divine in this world or any other than the feeling of my cock piercing your wet cunt, like the sun piercing the sky. But I have been thirsty for so long that I can’t refuse myself a generous fill of your nectar.”
Your lips trembled, eyes spilling tears shamelessly. He was stubborn, your Prince. You joked once that one day it would get him killed. Maybe it'd kill you first, though.
“My Prince, I can’t take it anymore," you shook your head, calling to his senses. "I don’t think there’s any more liquid left in me.”
Oberyn tsk'd and brought his lips to your skin, and you jolted a little, almost afraid of his touch. He chuckled lovingly, murmuring in your thigh.
“But if there wasn’t, you wouldn’t be wetting these beautiful silks.”
Your whine was pained and pleasured at the same time when he swiped his fingers through your slit, gathering the embarrassing amount of your slick and showing you his glistening fingers as to prove his point. You closed your eyes, unable to continue looking at the still prominent hunger in his eyes as he licked his fingers clean.
“Give me one more," he whispered, but it didn't sound like a plea, more like an order he loved giving out. "And then I’ll bring you as many glasses of your favorite Dornish wine as you can drink.”
You snapped your eyes open incredulously. As if you'd sell your cunt for a glass of wine, even the best wine in the world. “You'd only bring me wine because you want to torture my cunt with your devilish tongue again. And you need me full of liquids for that.”
He laughed and you couldn't stop from letting out the same joyful sounds yourself. You loved that man, and even though he didn't know that, it didn't take away from your feelings. His smile nurtured you, the way his eyes roamed your body made you feel like the prettiest creature among the gods and mortals. And when he laughed, you felt ready to sacrifice not only part of your body but your whole being to hear that again.
“You knew how selfish I was when you laid your generous body on the Prince’s bed, little snake. Do not become greedy on me now.” He bit the place on your thigh that he was just kissing, leaving the perfect mark of his teeth that you knew you'd treasure and caress when left alone for the dozenth time. “Will you spread your legs or should we find use of those beautiful ropes?”
You smiled at him, your face a bit tired but accepting and grateful for your fate. With barely working fingers you reached out and traced his big aquiline nose, that made his profile more royal than his heritage did. You stopped on his lips and he kissed your fingertips as you just stared in the depth of his eyes. “You know I will do anything for you, my Prince.”
“I know, serpent.” He licked and kissed the bite mark he left on your skin, slowly returning to the place that was burning both from being used and the desire to be used again.
He must have found some empathy inside himself, because this time he wasn't as violent in his movements. His tongue was flat as he swiped it from your entrance and to the top of your mound, either preparing you, or trying to get all of your tastes trapped inside his mouth. The broad licks were exchanged for a more passionate lapping at your entrance, as he curled his arms beneath your legs, pressing you closer into his face. With every thrust of his slick muscle inside your entrance you felt the now familiar burn of desire. With each orgasm he gave you it was easier and easier to bring you to another peak.
This time, as soon as the tip of his nose bumped your twitching bud of pleasure, your back arched as a sea wave during the strongest of storms. Your moan was hoarse and loud, throat parched and almost as abused as your cunt.
You knew he'd say something about you sounding prettier than the most talented musician in all the lands, if only he wasn't so consumed by licking, smelling, and drinking you up.
Blackness creeped at you from the corners of your eyes, and you squeezed them shut, adding bright colors to the mix. Oberyn's tongue started speeding up returning to your clit and circling the bud with tight movements. He growled in your cunt as he felt your thighs squeezing around his head, deafening him in the most erotic of acts. The vibrations he sent through your sensitive skin and straight to your core were the final straw of not only your sanity, but your conciseness. Your scream was violent, and your back arched so hard that on the periphery of your mind you thought you'd broken your bones. You felt thoughts and senses leaving your body with every drop of liquid squirting out of your core and into your Prince's greedy mouth. You smiled, thanking Gods and your lover for releasing you from the torturous feeling of being awake as your mind drifted into euphoric blackness.
“Oh, well,” Oberyn's eyes were darker than a starless night, puffy red lips curved in a satisfied smirk. Licking his own swollen and sensitive flesh he caressed your sweaty thighs with a gentle touch, not taking his eyes off your rising and falling chest. “Someone leaving the feast is not a reason to stop it.” The prince whispered to himself, before disappearing between your thighs once again.
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#oberyn x you#oberyn x reader#oberyn martel x reader#oberyn martell x reader#got fanfiction#iamasaddie fic#pedro pascal fic#oberyn martell smut
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A royal encounter - Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader x Oberyn Martell
Summary: Daemon had a great idea to bring a breath of fresh air into your marriage. But his plans were thwarted.
Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader x Oberyn Martell
Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; oral f receiving, fingering (f in v and f in a), p in v sex, p in a sex
Author’s note:
To celebrate the one year anniversary of my very first posted story, I've decided to finally post the Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader x Oberyn Martell story.... I hope you like it!
And… Thanks for reading my stories for a year! 🖤 I am very happy that you still want to read my stories!
English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:
Word count: 3.3 k
Other stories of mine
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You cling to the railing with your hands. Daemon's hands dig into your hips almost unpleasantly, the marks of his fingernails will be visible for a long time. His thrusts slowly subside and his breath comes heavily. A warm breeze envelops you, here on the balcony of your old chambers.
You have sought a little excitement, escaping the boring ball that has lured many lords and ladies to King's Landing. That's how Daemon came to practically push you into your old chambers for a bit of excitement.
You are both still breathing heavily as Daemon slowly pulls out of you. His soft laugh rings out as he gently kisses your nose.
But then this gentle moment is interrupted as someone applauds you and a clap is heard.
For a second Daemon's gaze meets yours before he looks over his shoulder and sees Prince Oberyn Martell standing in the middle of the chambers.
He grins, "Perhaps I should have tried harder to seduce a Targaryen princess after all," Prince Oberyn says cheekily. In one movement Daemon pulls his trousers completely up and spins around, his eyes narrowing.
"Oh, is the Prince of Dorne trying to make a pass at my wife?" hisses Daemon.
A gasp escapes you and you try to hide your naked body behind Daemon's. Your gaze wanders, searching for your dress, which Daemon had torn off you just moments before.
As Prince Oberyn chuckles, "No... But now that I've seen how much fun you've had, I wish I'd had it too," he says to him.
Daemon's gaze falls slightly over his shoulder, seeing you trying to cover your body. He sees you reaching for your dress, which is lying on the floor.
He looks back at Oberyn and his mood suddenly seems more relaxed.
He starts to button up his shirt, "I think we were just looking for a little excitement here," Daemon replies.
"But..," Daemon adds suddenly, "if you want to join us, I could certainly be persuaded."
You are pulling up your dress and frowning when you hear his words, "Daemon? Did you just invite Prince Oberyn to a threesome?" you ask him a little shocked.
Daemon hears your words, but before he can say anything back, Oberyn intervenes.
"A threesome?" asks Prince Oberyn with a grin, "I would have thought you were a jealous husband rather than an adventurous one...". Oberyn's words echo through the chambers and your eyes fall on Daemon again.
You know he can be jealous, but this time something else is reflected in his eyes.
Daemon chuckles softly, "We could have a good time in these old chambers here," he says mischievously, "It might make everything a little more exciting."
Daemon turns slightly, looking you straight in the eye, "What do you think? Is the Prince of Dorne a threat to our marriage?" he asks you gently. His thumb gently strokes your cheek.
You are not easily embarrassed, but this idea makes you blush. You bite your lip lightly, the pulsing between your legs reignited. Prince Oberyn was a handsome man. No less handsome than your husband, but in total contrast.
"No... he's not a threat. I only love you..." you say softly to Daemon.
Your gaze drifts to Prince Oberyn and his mischievous grin jumps out at you. He begins to unbutton his shirt and his lightly tanned chest is revealed. It is a stark contrast to your fair skin. Gently he brushes his shirt off his shoulders, revealing muscles that are rather small compared to Daemon's – he is defined but slender in stature. You step forward and stand next to Daemon.
But Daemon's gaze follows Oberyn's actions as he unbuttons his shirt, looking at his wife. He sees pure lust in Oberyn's eyes, the brown of his eyes barely discernible – his pupils dilated with lust.
Daemon notices how handsome Oberyn is and feels an excitement welling up inside him.
Oberyn's gaze falls on Daemon's face and notices Daemon trying to hide his excitement, but he sees his eyes fixed on the scene before him. A smile spreads across Oberyn's face. Oberyn walks towards you and slowly kneels on the ground in front of you.
You gasp briefly as his gaze goes up to you and he smiles at you. His hands reach for your dress and slowly begin to lift it.
The blush on your face continues to spread to your cleavage. Never has another man been about to touch you like this.
As Oberyn's voice brings you back to reality, "The blush is much more visible on your pale skin, Princess," he murmurs, "No need to be nervous, you'll enjoy it"
You bite your lip, even though you don't want to be nervous, you feel it flood through you.
You feel Daemon behind you, his hands on your shoulder. His thumbs glide gently over the crook of your neck. However unfamiliar this situation may be, Daemon's touch soothes you.
"Well?" asks Oberyn suddenly, "Do you want me to have her?"
Your eyes slide from Oberyn's to Daemon's purple eyes. Slightly peeking over your shoulder, your lips meet, "I want you both, Daemon..." you whisper against his lips.
Oberyn chuckles lightly as he lifts your dress further. You're not wearing any undergarments and as Oberyn pushes your dress up to your hips, your light pubic hair is revealed.
"Mmm, the silver hair of the Targaryens..." he murmurs, pressing his face into it. A smile crosses his face, the smile of an artist when he sees the masterpiece he has created.
You gasp as Oberyn presses his face into your pubic area. You exhale heavily, watching Oberyn enjoy the warmth of your private parts.
Daemon watches Oberyn and a slight, excited growl forms in his chest. Your previous words, "I want you both," also add to his arousal. Daemon's lips gently touch your neck as his hands begin to slide your dress down from your shoulders.
Prince Oberyn lets his tongue slide slowly through your womanhood. His fingers gently pull apart your folds so he can fully enjoy you.
You moan as you feel Oberyn's tongue find your bundle of nerves and gently circle it.
A "mmhmm" sounds from Oberyn as he pushes his face further into you. Your breath quickens as you feel Daemon lightly bite the soft skin of your neck and Oberyn circles his tongue faster. Your moans echo through the chambers.
When Oberyn suddenly lets go of your warm core and you whimper in disappointment. Your eyes fall on Oberyn, who looks up at you. His lips are glistening with your juice. Slowly he stands up and begins to open his trousers. Meanwhile Daemon lets your dress fall to the floor. His hands slide to your breasts, massaging them lightly. His thumbs and fingers grip your nipples, teasing them lightly. His lips continue to caress your neck as another moan leaves your lips.
You are now standing naked in front of them both. And your teeth don't want to release your lip. As Oberyn takes one of your hands and leads you away from Daemon. You take a step and slip out of your dress, which is lying at your feet. Slowly he leads you to the bed.
You climb onto the bed and Oberyn, who is naked himself, lies down beside you and begins to caress your body with his fingers. You see how Oberyn's hot length is already aroused and unlike Daemon's, a dark ring surrounds his size. You can't resist, you run your fingers through the hair. Oberyn grins at you and now he lightly bites his lip.
Your eyes fall on Daemon and you watch as his gaze is fixed on you. A shiver runs down your spine as you see his gaze follow Oberyn's fingers on your skin. Daemon begins to undress, his eyes never leaving you. First his shirt falls, revealing his muscular torso. The scars from all the battles won litter his pale skin. Your arousal rises immensely.
As Daemon undresses from the waist down and his arousal immediately springs free, you moan. The way Daemon stands in front of you and Oberyn's fingers find their way between your thighs is too exciting.
Daemon's attention is on you, the love of his life, and the tanned man next to you, caressing you on the bed and sliding his fingers through your wetness. Daemon comes towards you with long strides, gently sliding himself onto the bed with you. His fingers find your hips, reach into your curves as he begins to play around your nipple with his tongue. You moan again as his teeth begin to nibble lightly.
Daemon's lips slowly glide up your neck. A game of kisses and light bites until he encloses your lips. You breath into his mouth as Oberyn slides his hand to your bottom and turns you to Daemon. You lie on your side, your hand glides over Daemon's chest to his neck while your tongues dance wildly around each other. Oberyn brushes your silver hair aside and begins to kiss your neck softly.
His fingers slide down your thigh, until his hand reaches the curves of your bottom and grips firmly. You whimper into Daemon's mouth. Oberyn releases your butt cheek and lets his fingers slide between your thighs. You whimper again as he covers his finger with your wetness and slides it to your butt hole. He applies light pressure and your whimpering repeats itself.
His fingers are slick with your wetness, easing the way as they tease the sensitive spot. He wants to push you further, to see how far you're willing to go. Experimentally, he stroked his fingers against your hole.
Oberyn's breath hitches as your hips begin to move slightly. A soft sound comes from you and your bottom presses lightly against his finger, your slight gasp sending a wave of satisfaction through him. He pressed a little harder, his finger slowly sliding into your tight, forbidden entrance.
The feeling of you around his finger, it all fueled his desire, igniting a primal need within him. He let out a low grunt in response, his own pleasure intertwining with yours.
He could feel his own cock hardening almost painfully, aching for the intense pleasure that only you could provide at the moment. The sound of your whimpering, your vulnerability and need, only served to heighten his own desire to please you.
Daemon's fingers mirror Oberyn's movements as his fingers slide between your legs. His attention is on your clit at first until he slides them inside you. You hear him growl softly as he feels the walls of your cunt already clenching around his fingers.
Daemon looks at you with slightly parted lips, enjoying the sight of ecstasy on your face. "You always take my fingers so well inside of you," Daemon mumbles a little breathlessly, "just like my tongue... My cock"
You whimper again and your fingers grab his biceps.
Daemon growls again and his gaze falls on Oberyn, who grunts slightly as he slides his fingers into your butthole.
"The princess is so tight," Oberyn murmurs and Daemon feels a tingle inside him as he hears the words. You gasp and bite your lip lightly as Oberyn's fingers thrust deeper, his warm breath on your neck.
Daemon lets his lips meet yours again, both of you breathing heavily, his fingers thrusting faster into you, completely wet with your juices. He starts to insert another finger into you and you moan almost desperately. The sensation of your wetness coating his fingers only fueled his desire further, knowing that you are becoming more and more receptive to his touch. He elicits a long whine from you as he curls his digits against your sensitive walls.
You feel the fingers thrusting into you. But this time it's so much more than usual. Daemon's fingers keep rubbing over the rough part of your wet walls, making you whimper, while Oberyn's fingers keep stretching your tight hole, awakening the feeling inside you that you need to feel so much more.
You moan out loud and before you've fully realised it, you feel Daemon's fingers pull out of you and slide his hot length through your wet folds. You whimper slightly each time he grazes your sensitive pearl. You moan even louder as he presses lightly against your entrance and you whimper again at the thought of how perfectly he will fill you.
"I think the princess will be perfectly filled tonight," Oberyn whispers, followed by a slight chuckle, as if he can read your mind. His lips still pressed against your neck as his fingers continue to explore your depths.
Daemon thrusts hard into you and your walls give way to his size. Daemon grunts loudly as he's back in his warm, soft home. His large hand slides to the back of your thigh, but you are distracted by the penetrating thrusts. He grabs your thigh and guides your leg closer to his body, placing your knee on his hip so he can penetrate you deeper.
He thrusts forward again and again, conjuring up the sweetest whimpering noises from you.
When you suddenly feel Oberyn's fingers leave your tight hole, you almost feel an emptiness inside you that needs to be filled. But then you feel his cock sliding along between your thighs from behind. Again and again he rubs it through your wet folds, soaking it with your wetness, while Daemon continues to thrust into your cunt.
Oberyn's cock throbbed with desire while his lips are still pressed against your neck. His breathing becomes heavier and you feel the warmth on the soft skin of your neck as he positions himself at your tight entrance.
You're slightly distracted by Daemon's thrusts and grunts, but you feel Oberyn begin to press the tip of his cock against your butt hole. You cry out slightly, but it ends in a long moan.
With a deep, primal grunt, he presses the tip of his cock against the entrance, feeling the resistance and tightness that awaits him. The whimpers and moans escaping your lips only fuelled his desire, his own need becoming unbearable.
But your butthole quickly gives way. Still slightly stretched by Oberyn's fingers, it almost greedily envelops the tip of his cock. You hear Oberyn moaning in your ear, breathing heavily.
"Gods... Princess... I haven't even been all the way inside you yet and you already feel so divinely tight," Oberyn murmurs breathlessly – you can only whimper.
Oberyn follows Daemon's rhythm and every time Daemon pushes your pelvis backwards, Oberyn takes the opportunity. Your bottom is pushed towards Oberyn again and again and each time he thrusts a little harder to meet your movements.
You feel yourself getting restless and your hand suddenly reaches for Oberyn's bottom. Your hand grips his small, firm bottom and squeezes gently. Oberyn continues to thrust slowly but firmly and you are caught up in the feeling of wanting to feel him deeper, but the slight pain forces you to take it slowly. But your hand starts to push him closer to you as a mix of whimpers and moans leave you. Oberyn stretches you further and further and your eyes roll into the back of your head.
With one final, powerful thrust, Oberyn conquers your tight hole and moans loudly. You cry out briefly, but the pain quickly subsides and gives way to pure pleasure. You realise how completely filled you are. Daemon and Oberyn are now thrusting in unison and you are trapped in their grips – and you don't want it to end.
You put your head back and Oberyn immediately turns his attention back to your neck. He bites in lightly as he thrusts into your tight hole.
"Gods... Gods... fuck..." leaves his lips again and again.
With a primal instinct, he grabs your hips and slides closer to you. His thrusts now go deeper. He savours your tightness and the pleasure he brings you. The sound of your soft cries and moans fill the air as Daemon and Oberyn thrust into you, driving them both even further into a state of primal lust.
Daemon's hand is still on your thigh, lifting it slightly as he thrusts into your cunt. Oberyn's fingers grip your hips tighter as his thrusts penetrate you from behind.
Daemon grunts to himself, feeling the unusual resistance on his cock every time Oberyn thrusts into you and it turns him on. He thrusts harder and feels your cunt literally pulsating. His hand slides from your thigh to your breast, gripping it tightly as his lips slam onto yours. A wild kiss, accompanied by whimpers and moans, unfolds between you.
Your foot slides to the back of his thigh, wanting to pull him closer, needing to feel him deeper.
Daemon breathes heavily and grunts as your kiss ends. His eyes are fixated on the sight of you taking Oberyn's cock up your ass as he continues to fuck your cunt. The combination of your actions, the raw lust emanating from you, elicits a primal moan from deep within him.
With each thrust, he feels the lust building inside him and the need for release becomes almost unbearable. But he wants to savour this moment, savour your pleasure, revel in the intoxicating connection you share. Daemon's hand lets go of your breast and slides to your leg again.
His grip is firm and so are his thrusts, which become more intense and violent. The sound of your moans and the beginning trembling of your thighs only fuel his desire and bring him even closer to the edge.
You feel that you are about to come. The sensation of being filled in both holes is almost too much and you feel the familiar pressure spreading through your abdomen.
"Yes... Come on my cock," Daemon grunts, " Show me how good it feels for you to be filled like this," he grunts as his cock starts to twitch dangerously as well. Oberyn starts grunting behind you. He can feel your whole abdomen literally start to clench. His hand slides from your hip to your warm core. You look down, breathing heavily, and see Daemon thrusting into you and Oberyn's fingers begin to rub your clit. You are a moaning mess. The pressure inside you becomes almost unbearable.
"Be an obedient wife... come while our cocks fill you," Oberyn grunts in your ear as his fingers rub faster.
You only whimper, followed by a loud moan.
"I'm going to fill you up, princess... My seed will fill this tight hole," Oberyn grunts further, thrusting deeper.
And then you come, your cunt clenches around Daemon's cock, milking him and driving him over the edge with you. He growls and grunts loudly, pumping his cum deep into your cunt with deep thrusts.
Oberyn follows shortly after you and dresses your dark walls in white. He bites the back of your neck and immerses himself in the sensation. The grips on your body are firm, the feeling wonderful.
You whimper softly as the grunting around you slowly dies down. There is a smell of sweat and sex in the air. Heavy breathing echoes off the walls. Your light whimpers come to a climax as the two of them slowly pull out of you. Exhausted, you let yourself sink against Daemon's chest while Oberyn lies on his back, breathing heavily. His hand rests on your bum, stroking it gently.
"Maybe I should visit King's Landing more often after all..." mumbles Oberyn as he looks up at the ceiling.
Your eyes are closed, but instead of a reply, you hear a slight chuckle from Daemon.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
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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.
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AS GOOD A REASON - CH. 1 | OBERYN MARTELL
Chapter One: The Devil's Trumpet
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: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, MINORS GO AWAY, GoT is full of serious and harmful topics, mentions of SA, Rape (not the reader), Murder, Violence, Gore, War, Poison, Scars, Burns, Scratching, Su!c!de, AU, Age–Gap Romance, Angst, FLUFF, Eventual SMUT, Swearing, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, Blood, War, Religion References, Nudity, Domestic Abuse, Incest, Prostitution, Weapons, Fire, Horror,
Word Count: 5k
A/N: Sooooooo… I don’t know a lot of Game of Thrones lore… so I ask for your patience and kindness when it comes to this fic, cause I know there will be some inconsistencies. I would stay up late at night, staring at the ceiling of my bed, constantly imagining that I could save Oberyn Martell from the Mountain. This is the story that I have been dreaming about for almost two years now. This fic is loosely based off The Glory on Netflix, it’s a show all about revenge which felt fitting for a Game of Thrones fic. There’s not a lot of Oberyn Martell yet in this chapter… but the next one for sure he’ll be there ;)
Song: as good a reason by Paris Paloma
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DRAGONSTONE, WESTEROS — 280 AC
From the moment your mother bartered you away to the Targaryens, you harbored no illusions about your worth in her eyes. Born to a minor lord, your father's coffers were never overflowing, and upon his death, your mother wasted no time in casting you aside like a discarded toy. It was a transaction as cold and calculated as any.
As a mere girl, you were thrust into servitude within the Targaryen household, your days filled with menial tasks and fleeting moments of respite. Your mother's indifference had left you with a bitter taste in your mouth, yet you dared not dwell on the past, for in the world of kings and queens, survival was a luxury afforded only to the cunning and the strong.
So, you learned to keep your head down, to swallow your pride and obey without question. In the grand tapestry of courtly life, you were but a humble thread, weaving your way through the intricacies of power and deceit with the practiced ease of one who knows their place in the hierarchy of the Seven Kingdoms.
News of the betrothal between Princess Elia Martell and Prince Rhaegar Targaryen spread like wildfire through the streets of King's Landing, igniting whispers of anticipation and speculation among the common folk. And when the day of their union finally arrived, the Great Sept of Baelor bore witness to a spectacle of unparalleled grandeur, as the noble houses of Westeros gathered to witness the marriage of two powerful dynasties.
In the wake of their wedding, the newlyweds departed for the ancient seat of Dragonstone, leaving a wake of excitement and intrigue in their wake. Within the stone walls of the island fortress, the air crackled with anticipation, as servants bustled about in a frenzy of preparation for the arrival of the newlyweds.
In the hushed corridors of Dragonstone, amidst the flurry of activity that heralded the arrival of the royal couple, you found yourself singled out from the bustling crowd of servants. With a sense of unease mingled with awe, you were ushered into the inner sanctum of Princess Elia's chambers, thrust into a position of unexpected privilege.
As you navigated the opulent surroundings, your heart pounded with a mixture of apprehension and determination. The eyes of the court seemed to follow your every move, their silent scrutiny a constant reminder of your newfound status.
Perhaps it was Princess Elia's keen observation or her innate sense of compassion that led her to notice the subtle cruelties inflicted upon you by your fellow servants. The older maids, with their twisted smiles and mocking jests, seemed to take pleasure in your misfortune, their actions a reminder of the harsh realities of life within the walls of Dragonstone.
Yet, in the presence of your new mistress, you found solace and sanctuary, a refuge from the cruelty of those who sought to belittle and demean you. With each passing day, as you tended to her needs with a quiet diligence, and you felt a sense of belonging that had long eluded you.
As Princess Elia's pregnancy progressed, you remained steadfast by her side, attending to her every need from dawn till dusk. With each passing day, the weight of responsibility rested heavily upon your shoulders, as you labored tirelessly to ensure her comfort and well-being.
When the time finally came for Elia to bring forth new life into the world, you stood beside her, a silent witness to the agony and ecstasy of childbirth. Her cries pierced the air like a dagger, each shriek a testament to her strength and determination. And though fear gripped your heart with each painful contraction, you remained steadfast in your resolve to see her through this trial.
With the arrival of Princess Rhaenys, the air seemed to shimmer with joy. As Elia cradled her newborn daughter in her arms, her eyes alight with love and exhaustion, you offered words of comfort and admiration.
"You have brought forth a beautiful child, Your Majesty," you murmured softly, your voice a gentle reassurance in the flurry of the birthing chamber. "You have done marvelously."
A weary smile graced Elia's lips as she gazed down at her precious daughter, her fingers tracing the delicate features of the babe's face. "Thank you for your kindness," she replied, her gratitude evident in every word.
And so, with the birth of Princess Rhaenys, a new chapter began in the lives of the Targaryen dynasty. As the babe was presented to Rhaegar's parents at court, the halls of Dragonstone echoed with the whispers of anticipation, a testament to the enduring legacy of House Targaryen.
As Queen Rhaella cradled her granddaughter with tender affection, her eyes alight with joy and pride, King Aerys the Second stood apart, his expression twisted with disdain. With a sneer of contempt, he recoiled from the child, his words dripping with venom.
"Smells Dornish," he remarked, his voice laced with disgust.
Your jaw clenched with suppressed anger at his callous words, a silent witness to the depths of his cruelty and madness. In that moment, as you beheld the scene unfolding before you, it became abundantly clear that the king's heart was as black as obsidian, his soul consumed by the darkness that lurked within.
TOURNEY AT HARRENHAL, THE YEAR OF FALSE SPRING, WESTEROS — 281 AC
At Harrenhal, nestled in the verdant heart of the Riverlands, Lord Walter Whent played host to a grand tournament, a celebration that spanned ten days and drew lords and ladies from across the Seven Kingdoms. Within the storied halls of the ancient castle, whispers of intrigue and ambition mingled with the clinking of goblets and the strains of music, each moment pregnant with the promise of both glory and treachery.
Amidst the throng of nobility, you moved with the silent grace of a shadow, your keen eyes and sharp ears attuned to every murmur and gesture. As a mere servant, you lingered on the periphery of the festivities, your presence all but unnoticed by the illustrious guests who reveled in the splendor of the occasion.
On the first night, as the Hall of a Hundred Hearths blazed with the warm glow of torchlight and the scent of roasted meats hung heavy in the air, you observed the comings and goings of the noble houses with a keen eye. From the stalwart Starks to the enigmatic Howland Reed, the northern lords mingled with their southern counterparts, their alliances and rivalries simmering beneath the surface like a pot ready to boil over.
Amidst the revelry, the figures of legend and lore moved with an aura of mystique and allure. Brandon Stark's easy charm drew Lady Ashara Dayne to the dance floor, while the shy Eddard Stark found himself swept up in the rhythm of the music. Benjen Stark's playful banter with his sister Lyanna elicited laughter and teasing, a glimpse into the bonds that bound the Stark siblings together.
And then, amidst the swirling throng of dancers, you caught sight of him: Prince Oberyn Martell, the embodiment of charm and charisma, his laughter ringing out like silver bells in the night. As he twirled Lady Ashara Dayne in a graceful waltz, his smile illuminated the room with its brilliance, casting a spell over all who beheld him.
But you knew better than to linger on such fleeting distractions, in the glittering spectacle of courtly intrigue, shadows were lurking in the corners, secrets waiting to be uncovered. And so, with a determined resolve, you turned your attention away from the beguiling prince and towards the task at hand, knowing that one must always be vigilant, lest they be consumed by the machinations of power and ambition.
The tourney at Harrenhal stretched across ten days, a spectacle of martial prowess and pageantry that captivated the hearts and minds of all who attended. In between the clash of swords and the thunder of hooves, champions emerged and legends were born, each contest a testament to the valor and skill of the knights who jousted and fought in the name of honor and glory.
From the seven-sided melee to the fierce competition of the joust, the tourney boasted a variety of events to entertain the crowds, including archery contests, axe-throwing competitions, and thrilling horse races. Yet, amidst the revelry and excitement, a sense of foreboding lingered in the air, a whisper of uncertainty that hinted at darker forces at play.
As the final moments of the tourney drew near, all eyes turned to Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, the golden-haired champion whose prowess in the joust had earned him victory over four knights of the Kingsguard. Yet, it was not his triumph in the lists that would become the stuff of legend, but rather the fateful decision he made in the aftermath of his victory.
Standing amidst the gathered nobility, you watched in disbelief as Prince Rhaegar bypassed his own wife, Princess Elia, and bestowed the crown of blue winter roses upon Lyanna Stark, the betrothed of Lord Robert Baratheon. This was the moment all smiles died. The air crackled with tension as murmurs of confusion and outrage rippled through the crowd, a clear sense of unease settling over the festivities like a shroud.
In that moment, as the fragile peace of the realm hung in the balance, you felt a chill run down your spine, a premonition of the chaos and bloodshed that would soon engulf the Seven Kingdoms. For in the blink of an eye, the seeds of war had been sown, and the fate of Westeros hung in the balance.
DRAGONSTONE, WESTEROS — 282 AC
In the dimly lit chamber of Dragonstone, the air was thick with anticipation as Princess Elia fought through the pain of labor, her strength waning with each passing moment. Beside her, you stood as a silent sentinel, offering words of encouragement and support as she braved the trials of childbirth once more.
With each command to push, Princess Elia's resolve hardened, her determination a beacon of hope amidst the darkness that threatened to engulf her. Yet, it was evident that her delicate health posed a formidable obstacle, her frailty a constant reminder of the challenges she faced.
And then, amidst the hushed whispers of the attending maesters, the sharp cry of a newborn babe pierced the air, a herald of new life amidst the shadows of uncertainty. With a ragged sigh of relief, Princess Elia's weary frame slumped backward, her brow glistening with sweat as she drew in ragged breaths.
"It's a son," the maester announced, his voice ringing with reverence as he presented the newborn prince to his exhausted mother.
A flicker of joy illuminated Princess Elia's weary features as she reached out trembling hands to cradle her newborn son, her touch gentle and reverent as she welcomed him into the world. With tears of gratitude glistening in her eyes, she pressed her lips to his tiny forehead, whispering words of love and devotion as she held him close to her heart.
Prince Aegon was born.
KINGS LANDING, WESTEROS — 283 AC
Chaos erupted across the realm with the dawn of the new year, as news of Lyanna Stark's abduction by Prince Rhaegar Targaryen near Harrenhal spread like wildfire, igniting the flames of conflict between rival houses.
In the Vale of Arryn, the clash of steel and the cries of battle echoed through the mountain passes, as Lord Jon Arryn marshaled his forces to defend his homeland against the encroaching storm of war. Meanwhile, in the coastal city of Gulltown, the once-impregnable defenses crumbled under the relentless assault of Robert Baratheon and his forces, with the valiant Marq Grafton falling in the heat of battle.
With Gulltown secured, Robert Baratheon wasted no time in rallying his own banners to his cause, sailing swiftly to his ancestral seat of Storm's End to muster his forces for the coming conflict. Yet, even as he prepared for war, Robert's gaze turned to the stormlands, where the first major battle of the campaign awaited him.
At Summerhall, within the ruins of the ancient keep, Robert Baratheon faced his foes in a brutal clash of arms, his skill and valor turning erstwhile enemies into staunch allies. With Lords Grandison and Cafferen, as well as Silveraxe, pledging their fealty to his cause, Robert emerged victorious, his path to the north now clear as he prepared to join forces with Jon Arryn and the northern lords in their quest for vengeance.
All throughout the chaos of war, you bore witness to the dark machinations of the Mad King as he conspired to unleash destruction upon King's Landing itself. Ser Jaime Lannister, his white cloak billowing behind him, stood witness to the sinister plot hatched by the Alchemists' Guild, while the rest of the Kingsguard were scattered, their loyalty divided amidst the brewing conflict.
In the midst of this turmoil, Lord Qarlton Chelsted, Hand of the King, emerged as an unexpected ally, his friendship and concern for your safety a beacon of hope amidst the shadows of fear and uncertainty. Yet, as whispers of the king's treachery reached his ears, Lord Chelsted's conscience could no longer remain silent. With courage and conviction, he confronted the Mad King, pleading for mercy and reason in the face of madness.
But mercy was a foreign concept to Aerys Targaryen, his mind consumed by the flames of paranoia and tyranny. In a cruel and chilling display of power, he condemned Lord Chelsted to a fate worse than death, his screams echoing through the halls of the Red Keep as the flames consumed him.
In the wake of this horror, you found yourself thrust into the cruel embrace of the king's wrath, your cries of anguish falling upon deaf ears as the searing pain of the iron rod seared your flesh. Bound and helpless, you endured the agony of your punishment, a silent testament to the cruelty of those who held power over life and death.
When consciousness returned, it was to the gentle touch of Princess Elia, her soothing words a balm to your wounded soul. With tears of shame and gratitude, you sought to apologize for your weakness, but the kind princess silenced your protests with a gentle shush, her compassion a beacon of hope in the darkness.
"Rest now, dear child," she murmured, her voice a soft melody of reassurance. "You have tended to me with care and kindness. Now it is my turn to watch over you."
In the warmth of her embrace, you found solace amidst the pain, your heart heavy with the weight of your suffering but buoyed by the kindness of one who saw beyond the scars to the strength within. And as sleep claimed you once more, you whispered a silent prayer of thanks to the Seven for the gift of Princess Elia's compassion in a world consumed by cruelty and strife.
The rest of House Targaryen remained blissfully unaware of the dark schemes brewing within the walls of King's Landing. Queen Rhaella Targaryen, her eyes veiled to her husband's descent into madness, remained preoccupied with her own concerns, while Prince Rhaegar Targaryen marshaled his forces for the impending conflict.
In the depths of the city, hidden from prying eyes, the pyromancers of the Alchemists' Guild toiled in secrecy, their hands guided by the whispers of their mad king. Thousands of jars of wildfire, that volatile substance capable of unleashing unimaginable destruction, were meticulously placed in strategic locations throughout the city. From the shadows of the Dragonpit to the hallowed halls of the Great Sept of Baelor, and even beneath the very foundations of the Red Keep itself, the city of King's Landing was a powder keg awaiting the spark of war.
As the flames of conflict spread across the realm, each battle leaving its mark upon the land, the fate of the Seven Kingdoms hung in the balance. Amidst the chaos of the Stoney Sept, where narrow streets became blood-soaked battlegrounds, Prince Doran Martell grappled with the weight of his decision. Bound by duty to his king yet driven by love for his sister, Princess Elia, Doran reluctantly pledged his support to Prince Rhaegar's cause, his heart heavy with the knowledge of the dangers that lay ahead.
Following the fateful clash at the Trident, the Mad King's grip on power grew ever more tenuous. In a desperate bid to consolidate his rule, Aerys named Rossart, his favored pyromancer, as his new Hand of the King. Yet, his reign of terror would be short-lived, as the flames of rebellion engulfed the realm. With his wife, Queen Rhaella, and their young son, Prince Viserys, sent to the safety of Dragonstone, Aerys's grip on reality slipped further into the abyss, his madness driving him to unspeakable acts of cruelty and betrayal. Locked within the walls of King's Landing, Princess Elia Martell and her children, Rhaenys and Aegon, remained prisoners of a king consumed by paranoia and fear.
MAEGOR’S HOLDFAST, THE RED KEEP — 283 AC
Lord Tywin Lannister, who had stubbornly refused calls to arms from both the loyalists and the rebels until that point, appeared at the gates of King's Landing with an imposing army of twelve thousand men, mere hours before Eddard Stark would arrive. Lord Tywin professed his unwavering loyalty to King Aerys, and while Lord Varys, the cunning master of whispers, counseled Aerys to keep the gates locked, the king chose to heed the advice of the manipulative Grand Maester Pycelle, ordering the gates to be opened to Tywin's men. With the arrival of the forces from the westerlands, the city of King's Landing became a target for plunder and destruction.
As the realization that all was lost sank in, Aerys, driven by madness and desperation, commanded Rossart, a pyromancer, to unleash the hidden caches of wildfire throughout the city, hoping to reduce Robert's forces to mere "ashes and bones".
In a final act of cruelty, he tasked Ser Jaime Lannister, the eldest son of Lord Tywin and the sole remaining knight of his Kingsguard present in the city, with killing his own father and presenting his head as a gruesome gift. However, Jaime, torn between loyalty and reason, defied the mad king's command. Instead, he turned his blade on Rossart, knowing that Aerys would simply find another pyromancer to carry out his destructive plans. Realizing the imminent danger, Jaime rushed back to the Red Keep and put an end to Aerys' life in the throne room, just moments before soldiers from the westerlands stormed in.
Meanwhile, Ser Gregor Clegane, known for his massive size and brutal nature, accompanied by Ser Amory Lorch, made their way into Maegor's Holdfast. Their mission was to eliminate the remaining members of the royal family, solidifying Robert's claim to the throne and demonstrating House Lannister's complete abandonment of the Targaryens.
The resounding crash of the door being forcefully shattered reverberated through the room, punctuated by the shattering of glass and the piercing screams that filled the air. You, trapped in that room, could do nothing but bear witness to the horrific scene unfolding before your eyes. Gregor Clegane callously hurled you towards the fireplace, the searing heat scorching your skin, as he believed you would perish amidst the flames. Bleeding and disoriented, you lay on the floor, your vision blurred by the pain that engulfed you.
In the middle of pandemonium, you watched in horror as Princess Rhaenys, a mere toddler, was dragged from beneath her father's bed by the monstrous Clegane. The screams of the innocent child echoed through the room as she was mercilessly stabbed over fifty times. Aegon, Elia's son and the last hope for the Targaryen line, suffered an equally gruesome fate as Gregor brutally smashed his head against a wall. With Aegon's blood and brains still staining his hands, Gregor proceeded to rape Elia and ultimately ended her life by crushing her skull.
As Gregor and Amory callously departed, their hands stained with the blood of their heinous acts, they paid no heed to your crumpled form, assuming you were dead. Silently, you feigned death, your battered body lying motionless on the floor. The sound of their heavy footsteps slowly faded away, their hearts devoid of remorse, as they never once faltered or looked back.
With fresh burns scorching your body, the searing pain and stinging sensations intensified, causing you to vomit on the side of the bedroom, overwhelmed by the horrifying sight before you. The people you held dear, the ones who reciprocated your affection, were now lost and lifeless, torn away from you forever.
In a state of despair, you crawled and stumbled, driven by an unknown force or perhaps a touch of divine intervention. Miraculously, you managed to navigate the treacherous secret passages of the sacked city, escaping the clutches of danger. The reason for your survival remained a mystery, lost in the chaos that surrounded you. Perhaps it was your unwavering determination or the small flicker of hope that compelled you to keep moving forward, to honor Elia's memory and the children who were denied the chance of a life.
You couldn't recall how you found yourself on the shores near Blackwater Bay, gazing out at the vast expanse of the Narrow Sea. Kneeling in the cool, wet sand, you felt the water recede, stinging your burns and prompting an uncontrollable urge to scratch, causing fresh blood to flow. Your bruised stomach throbbed with pain.
Exhausted from the relentless pursuit of survival, you yearned for respite, for an end to the constant struggle. Slowly, you began to crawl toward the ocean, knowing that the cold embrace of the water would bring solace, relieving the incessant itch of your scars. What more could you desire? This, perhaps, was the only path left.
But you couldn't bring yourself to do it. Standing at the precipice, you let out a piercing cry, releasing your anguish into the air. With every ounce of strength, you struck your arms, the very arms that bore the visible reminders of your torment.
In that moment, you chose to defy the darkness that threatened to consume you, refusing to succumb to despair. At the edge of the world, you stood tall, your cries echoing across the empty beach, a testament to your resilience and determination to get revenge.
BRAAVOS, ESSOS — 287 AC
In the ancient city of Braavos, where secrets whispered through the narrow alleys and the canals flowed with mysterious tales, you found solace amid the chaos. Once a believer in the gods, you had come to realize that their existence was nothing more than a facade, a comforting illusion for the masses.
Having scraped together enough coin, you secured passage on a ship departing from Blackwater Bay, leaving behind a turbulent past and seeking refuge in the anonymity of Braavos. The city welcomed you with its vibrant streets and diverse inhabitants, offering a chance at a new beginning.
From baker to cleaner, nurse to animal keeper, and occasionally even a tutor to minor Ladies, you took on any job that would sustain you. Your tireless work ethic caught the attention of the nobles, who saw value in your dedication and entrusted you with their precious steeds. However, the privilege of working for the Lords came at a cost, as some would cross boundaries and attempt to take advantage of your vulnerability. Yet, you stood strong, extracting your payment and moving on.
Throughout the years, you meticulously saved every coin, seeking out the teachings of various assassin guilds and skilled swordsmen. Disguised as a boy, you delved into the secrets of High Valyrian, honed your swordsmanship, and mastered the art of poisons. The guilds taught you to discern truth from lies, and to control your facial expressions, laying the groundwork for your vengeful plans.
As you went about your duties in the bustling stables, you tried to steal moments to study the intricate notes on potions, mumbling the descriptions to yourself. Suddenly, a sharp smack landed on the back of your head, causing you to wince in pain. "Quit your foolishness and focus on your work!" your employer reprimanded.
"Don't be too hard on her! Look at all the burn scars on her legs and arms," one of the older stableboys interjected, coming to your defense. Gritting your teeth, you offered a quick apology, knowing that it was best to comply with your employer's wishes.
Resuming your tasks, you discreetly tucked away the notes into your pocket, their pages smudged with the grime of your surroundings. Your determination burned within you, fueled by the scars that adorned your body, a constant reminder of the pain and suffering that fueled your quest for revenge.
BRAAVOS, ESSOS — 294 AC
The scent of salt hung heavy in the air, you had grown up immersed in their language and customs. Fuelled by a thirst for knowledge, you clandestinely absorbed every morsel of information you could gather about the events unfolding in Westeros. Alongside your studies, you dedicated yourself to the art of combat, honing your skills with weapons and tirelessly toiling in a variety of jobs that allowed you to pursue your clandestine education.
As the boat that would carry you away from Braavos was being prepared, one of the enigmatic faceless men, who had taken an interest in your journey due to the scars that adorned your flesh, approached you. His hooded eyes locked onto yours as he inquired, "Are you prepared for what lies ahead?"
A mixture of determination and uncertainty danced in your gaze as you responded, "They seek servants for the Red Keep. The time is drawing near, and I must gather further intelligence on a select few. It appears that more than just the Lannisters are entangled in this web of power." The faceless man nodded, acknowledging the complexity of the situation.
With a silent understanding, the boat began its departure, carrying you across the waters of the Narrow Sea. Standing at the bow, your eyes fixated on the horizon, a sense of purpose and anticipation surged within you as you braced yourself for the unknown challenges that awaited.
RED KEEP, KING'S LANDING, WESTEROS — 298 AC
In the hallowed halls of the Red Keep, where whispers of power and deceit echoed through the stone, you had spent years serving as a humble maid, donning long-sleeved dresses regardless of the season that enveloped Westeros.
Maintaining a low profile was imperative to the success of your clandestine plan. As you arranged your quarters, a haven of secrecy, you opened a worn journal containing a meticulously compiled dossier. Every page adorned with detailed sketches and meticulous notes on the individuals implicated in the tragic demise of Princess Elia. Royals, lords, and ladies from every corner of Westeros found their place within those ink-stained pages. Their routines, preferences, lovers, and dark histories were meticulously chronicled, forming a tapestry of knowledge that would fuel your pursuit of vengeance.
Locking your quarters behind you, you ventured into the mist-shrouded gardens, a white datura flower delicately cradled in your hand. As you spun the delicate bloom, the devil's trumpet, between your fingers, a solemn chant escaped your lips, carried away by the ethereal fog. "Anyone who inflicts harm upon their neighbor shall bear the same injury."
An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth. A fracture for a fracture. The concept of just retribution swirled in your mind, the very embodiment of justice. Yet, a subtle smirk tugged at the corners of your lips. Was such fairness truly fitting? Was it not too generous, too even-handed? After all, fairness is a fleeting concept in this treacherous game, isn't it?
TAGLIST:
@christinamadsen
#oberyn martell x reader#oberyn martell x fem!reader#oberyn martell x female reader#oberyn martell x you#oberyn martell fanfiction#oberyn nymeros martell#oberyn x reader#prince oberyn#oberyn martell#oberyn martell rewrite#got rewrite#game of thrones rewrite#game of thrones#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal fanfiction
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Drabble No. 2
Summary: “Who did this to you?” he asked, his voice as quiet as the hiss of a Viper as his eyes focused on yours. You swallowed.
Pairing: Oberyn Martell x fem. reader
Wordcount: 1.2k
Warnings: implied physical violence, anger, implied death, a little fluff
Drabble Masterlist
Your only purpose in life was to get married to a Lord someone would choose for you and bear an heir.
All your life you had been taught that this was the only thing you were good for. To not say anything and just keep a smile on your face. To just be pretty and well behaved.
You got so good at it that even people who had known you all your life couldn’t read you. Or they just didn’t care enough. You couldn’t even really remember your mother or your father. Just glimpses of your mothers white hair and your fathers laugh.
You were the last remaining child of Ballon Greyjoy. Taken hostage after his rebellion by Eddard Stark together with your brother Theon who you hadn’t heard from for years.
Almost everyone you grew up with was dead, leaving you without protection in the red keep after Eddard was executed for crimes he wasn’t guilty of. Your life had changed after his death.
Tywin Lannister became a little too interested in you, and at first you thought it was because he wanted to marry you off to one of his sons.
You would have hoped it would be Tyrion, having formed a… companionship over your shared hatred for the king and his remaining family. But when his engagement to Sansa was announced he had withdrawn, leaving you alone with your thoughts and fear for your future.
It was when Tywin voiced his need for a young new wife and for another heir that your greatest fears came to life.
You had tea with Cersei almost everyday, leaving you in a constant state of fear about your future.
You did not want to marry Tywin Lannister.
You wanted to experience love and passion in your life and it was guaranteed you wouldn’t get it from the oldest Lannister.
It was on one of your daily walks to clear your head that you ran into him.
Prince Oberyn Martell.
He was like the sun in your cloudy world, giving you a warm teasing smile as he asked you what reason a gentle flower like you had to look like she was on her way to her execution.
He was the only one who could see right through your fake smile, or who cared enough to ask.
In just a week Oberyn had sneaked his way into your heart and bed, making you crave for something more. A life that had more purpose than to live in a constant state of fear.
It was then that you grew careless and let your guard down.
Something you knew you were never allowed to do, especially with Cersei around.
You were holding your wrist against your chest, silent tears running down your cheeks as you made your way through the gardens after your meeting with the queen, followed by one of Cersei’s guards and a new handmaiden who’s name you hadn’t bothered to learn.
She was only there to spy on you for the Queen, instructed to report everything you did back to her.
You were so in your thoughts you did not notice you were alone until a arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you in a corner hidden from the outside view, the guard and handmaiden gone.
“Sweet, sweet sunflower,” Oberyn hummed and you closed your eyes. There was no way of hiding from him as you tilted your head up to look at him, eyes opened, puffy and red from crying.
His smile vanished from his lips, his face masked in concern as his eyes checked over you for the source of your state. Gently he cradled your throbbing wrist in his hands, the skin already bruising.
You released a shuddering breath as you looked down. Slowly he brought your wrist up to his lips, kissing it softly. He brought one of his hands up, two fingers under your chin as he tilted your head up so you had to look at him.
His expression was still soft, yet his dark eyes had hardened and you knew that in this moment you saw the viper lingering at the edges. He carefully let go of your wrist, bringing his other hand up to gently rub away your tears and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch, searching for his comfort.
He took a deep breath, as if to calm himself.
“Who did this to you?” he asked, his voice as quiet as the hiss of a Viper as his eyes focused on yours. You swallowed.
“Cersei… She… She knows… About us…” you whispered.
“She did this to you?” he asked. And you shook your head.
His face changed only for a split second as he realised who laid a hand on you, knowing who guarded the Queen, giving in to the anger he was feeling as he worked his jaw before he whispered.
“It was him,” he rubbed his thumbs over your cheek and you nodded.
“Ser Gregor Clegane,” you whispered.
“The Mountain,” he spit and you shuddered, new tears forming in your eyes.
Oberyn closed his eyes and took a deep breath before his lips crashed down on yours, taking you by surprise. You gasped and his tongue slipped into your mouth, his hands keeping your face close to his, before he parted from your lips, resting his forehead against yours.
“You are not safe here,” he whispered.
“I never was,” you said quietly, suddenly wondering where your guard and handmaiden went, your eyes searching around.
“You are safe now, they are gone and you will be safe until I take you away from here. With me.”
“You… You what?” you asked in surprise and he kissed your nose.
“If you allow me, I would take you to Dorne. You will be safe there.”
“Oberyn… How….”
“Do you trust me?”
“With my life,” you said right away and he smiled before he kissed you again.
“Then go back to your chambers and pack what you need. I will send all my guards with you.”
You frowned.
“Just like that?” you asked in disbelief.
“Just like that. We will set sail by sunset.”
You looked up at him to search for some answers in his eyes, but did not get any. Slowly you nodded and kissed him softly before Oberyn called for his guards, telling them to guard you with their life before you made your way back towards your chambers, but not without risking a glance over your shoulder, finding Oberyn watching you.
There were whispers throughout town as the guards sneaked you to the harbour.
Of the Mountain suddenly falling ill and dying within a couple of hours. Of Tywin Lannister’s death by his son Tyrion’s hands.
You kept your head down as you followed the guards, only allowing yourself to look up when you were walking the path onto the ship, finding Oberyn waiting for you with a satisfied smirk playing on the corner of his lips.
“Ready to begin your life?” he asked, his hand helping you up on the ship and you nodded as he brought your hand to his lips.
“What happens now?” you asked later, Kings Landing far behind you as you stood in Oberyn’s arms watching the moon reflect on the silent sea.
You felt his nose rub over the shell of your ear as his arm pulled you closer against his chest.
“Whatever you want,” he whispered softly, kissing you behind your ear.
#my fic#drabble#oberyn martell#Oberyn Martell x fem. reader#Pedro pascal#fanfiction#fanfic#fan fiction#prompt
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MASTER LIST★
AVATAR
NETEYAM:
All I wanted was you...( Yandere Neteyam x Metkayina reader)
Neteyam HCS( Neteyam x reader)
Husband Neteyam x reader( AGED UP) (NO SMUT)
Not all stories end with a happy ending( Neteyam x Metkayina reader) (ANGST)
AO'NUNG:
Ao'nung HCS( AO NUNG X READER)
Yandere Ao'nung HCS
TSIREYA:
I see you...( Tsireya x Fem Metkayina reader) (Angst turns into fluff)
Tsu'tey:
Nga yawns lu oer...(Tsu'tey x Omaticaya reader) (angst turns into fluff)
YANDERE AVATAR THE WAY OF WATER FAN FICTION:
INTRO
CHAPTER 1
HOUSE OF THE DRAGON
AEMOND TARGARYEN:
RIGHT PERSON WRONG TIME( Aemond x reader ANGST)
Fire and blood( Dark Aemond Targaryen x reader) ( Coming soon)
Yandere Aemond x Older sister reader (Chapter 1) (Chapter 2) (Chapter 3 )
Aemond Smut Imagine
Jacaerys Velaryon:
Yandere Jacaerys Velaryon x reader HCS
Harry Potter
CEDRIC DIGGORY:
ALMOST LOOSING YOU- DARK CEDRIC DIGGORY X READER
VICTOR KRUM:
My swan( Yandere Victor Krum x reader)
DRACO MALFOY:
Yandere Draco Malfoy x reader( coming soon)
HARRY POTTER:
Coming soon
NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM:
Coming soon
HUNGER GAMES
FINNICK ODAIR:
Never letting you go- Finnick Odair( Dark Finnick x reader)
CATO HADLEY:
Blood in my hands- DarkCato Hadley x reader( coming soon)
CORIOLANUS SNOW:
Cold as snow( Dark Coriolanus Snow x reader) ( coming soon)
PEETA MELLARK
Coming soon
HONKAI STAR RAIL
JING YUAN:
Yandere Jing Yuan x reader HCS
DAN HANG
coming soon
BLADE
Coming soon
ONE PIECE
ZORO:
Yandere Zoro x reader HCS
SANJI:
WILL POST SOON
BUGGY:
WILL POST SOON
LORD OF THE RINGS/ THE HOBBIT
LEGOLAS:
WILL POST SOON
THRANDUIL:
Letter from Dark Thranduil
Dark Thranduil HCS
FRODO:
WILL POST SOON
PIPPY:
WILL POST SOON
MERRY:
WILL POST SOON
SAMWISE:
WILL POST SOON
ARAGORN:
WILL POST SOON
Game Of Thrones
Daenerys
Coming soon
Jon Snow
Coming soon
Sansa Stark
Coming soon
Rob Stark
Coming soon
Oberyn Martel
Coming soon
PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS
LUKE CASTELLAN
Dark Luke Castellan x reader HCS
The sun shines brighter when I'm with you.
Wrapped in a deadly embrace
PERCY JACKSON
Finding you
ANNABETH CHASE
COMING SOON
GROVER UNDERWOOD
COMING SOON
CLARISSE LA RUE
WAR AND BEAUTY
#masterlist#buggy the clown#yandere hunger games#the hunger games#one piece netflix#honkai star rail#harry potter and the goblet of fire#harry potter#hotd#house of the dragon#avatar
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JOSE PEDRO BALMACEDA PASCAL
HIS CHARACTERS
🌟 Good Morning, Bachelor Nation! 🌟 by @elvinaa
You have a big ass by @pedros-husband
How about 7 Pedros for a minute each? by @oonajaeadira
scary movie typa guy ; genre of movies pedro boys are into by @creedslove
Having Triplets: by @absurdthirst
PEDRO PASCAL
reader calls, telling him they had to go to the emergency room by @judysxnd
he hated the feeling or thought of reader ever leaving ; protective pedro ; blind date ; comforts him ; none of that really matters ; him just loving being a girl dad ; pedro x sick!reader ; whole pregnancy by @talaok (at this point I sould've just put her masterlist link here, lol)
it's not that kind of cold shower (pedro x gn/m!reader) ; 🎯MASTERLIST🎯pedro pascal x gn/m!reader by @pedge-stuff
PERO TOVAR
Pero Tovar and his Guerrera by @prolix-yuy
friend sets Pedro and (y/n) on a blind date by @talaok
take my hand - pero tovar x fem!reader by @pedrito-friskito
Temple of Love ; Grumpy Pumpkin by @sirowsky-stories
OBERYN MARTELL
Window Shopping by @the-dendrophile-bookdragon
Birfday - Oberyn by @writeforfandoms
MARCUS PIKE
I’m Here by @davnittbraes
Forgive These Bones I'm Hiding (Part 2 of 2) by @whataperfectwasteoftime
JAVIER PENA
I know that I shouldn't... but I love you. by @odetodilfs
Nᴏᴛ Iɴᴛᴏ Bᴏʏs (Jᴀᴠɪᴇʀ Pᴇñᴀ) by @obsessedwithpedritoofc
Crossroads (Javier Peña x AFAB!Reader) ; Narcos Masterlist by @ithebookhoarder
wait, what? by @plentyoffandoms
Trick and Treat by @jobean12-blog
tolerate it [javi peña x gn!reader] by @mandoalorian
quickie at the party ; LA LLUVIA 🌧️ by @creedslove
JOEL MILLER
the sun will shine again by @foli-vora
loads of hickeys by @talaok
doing a million steps nightly skin care routine ; The Millers 💖 by @creedslove
Joel Miller Masterlist by @jobean12-blog
sated by @softlyspector
Feral Masterlist by @ohraicodoll
"a gentle hand" — joel miller by @louswrld11
All Good Things [a Joel x f!reader fic] by @criticallyacclaimedstranger
a sheep in wolf's clothing by @jupiter-soups
Halloween Special by @strang3lov3
I wanna show you off by @joelscurls
crying for the first time ever by @joels-shitty-puns
grumpy!husband!joel by @cruelfvkingsummer
JAVI GUTIERREZ
Skinny Dipping by @second-axis-point
Kinktober Day 13: Javi Gutiérrez w/overstimulation and bondage. by @odetodilfs
DIN DJARIN
In The Silence by @dindjarindiaries
D.D. - "Then we'll find out together." by @missredherring
Uncut by @beskarandblasters
the cantina by @spctrsgf
trying boba tea for the first time by @toxic-seduction
50. Nothing is wrong with you. 55. I’m not going anywhere. ; Soft!Din by @ezrasbirdie
Familiar & Unfamiliar by @theidiotwhowritesthings
DIETER BRAVO
2023 Summer Kiss Prompt #10: Dieter Bravo - A Kiss While Baking by @something-tofightfor
DAVE YORK
Surrogate Love {Dave York x F!Reader} by @absurdthirst
FRANKIE MORALES
Broken by @musings-of-a-rose
sweet treat (frankie morales x f!plus-size!reader) by @mrsmando
Kɪʟʟ ғᴏʀ Yᴏᴜ (Fʀᴀɴᴋɪᴇ Mᴏʀᴀʟᴇs) by @obsessedwithpedritoofc
Telltale Heart by @astroboots
fading ; something new [plus size fem reader] by @ezrasbirdie
MARCUS PIKE
pretending to be him ; RE-ENCOUNTER 🎨 by @creedslove
used by you by @foli-vora
SILVA
Tʜᴇ Oᴛʜᴇʀ Mᴀɴ (Sɪʟᴠᴀ) by @obsessedwithpedritoofc
PS : I reblog all this amazing fanfic on my other tumblr account on @uwiuwi. I just like to reread, but it got me so stressfull when my main blog so full with reblogs, so I make this masterlist for my future self. I hope none of the authors of the fanfics I put in here mad. Sorry and Thank you for your hardwork guys.
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