#oberyn x ellaria x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

psychedelic-ink · 11 months

Text

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.

#oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x f!reader #oberyn martell x fem!reader #oberyn martell x ellaria sand #oberyn martell x reader x ellaria sand #ellaria sand x reader #ellaria sand x f!reader #ellaria sand x fem!reader #game of thrones fanfiction #got fanfic #oberyn martell fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters

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palioom · 6 months

Text

day seventeen - threesome

pairing: oberyn martell x f!reader x ellaria sand

word count: 723

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

• kinktober 2023 masterlist •

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Many, many more.”

#oberyn martell #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell fanfiction #oberyn martell x you #oberyn martell x ellaria sand #prince oberyn #ellaria sand #oberyn martell x reader x ellaria sand #ellaria sand x reader #game of thrones #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #kinktober 2023 #my writing

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wardenparker · 11 months

Text

The Viper’s Bride - ch 1

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

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

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 9.9k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: terrible parents, age gap 10+ years, arranged marriage, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol* A slap! Mentions of menstruation, fleeting mention of a suicidal thought, threats of violence, bathing, so much foreplay, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, fingering (anal), MM coupling, MMF threesome, anal sex, oral sex (f giving and receiving), FF coupling, technically this is an orgy. Summary: Upon receiving news of your arranged betrothal, both you and Prince Oberyn of Dorne make your ways to the Red Keep for King Joffrey’s impending nuptials. However, his arrival to the city is significantly more playful than yours. Notes: Welcome to soulmate story number seven! This summer we are getting hot and heavy in Westeros with everybody’s favourite promiscuous prince. Buckle up, my darlings, because this one gets spicy right off the bat 👑💖

Oberyn frowns slightly as the oil slicked hands of the servant press into the arches and joints of Doran’s feet, making his older brother hiss in pain. It must be a harsh day for him, his wheeled chair a near constant as it is now too painful for him to walk even short distances. A far cry from the hale and hearty brother he had grown up with as the youngest of the Martell princes. He knows the oil is warmed, the scent of eucalyptus and mint filling the air as it is worked into the skin, hopefully providing some relief. “I can come back, brother. Let you rest.”

“This is important.” Doran insists, not dismissing either man from his presence. His own discomfort is a stark reminder of the sacrifices that must be made for the throne of Dorne. “You know the Baratheon boy is to marry.” The fact that King Joffrey’s mother is a Lannister makes him an unsavory topic between the Martell brothers, even as Marcella Baratheon plays in the water gardens a mere thirty yards away.

Stiffening instantaneously for a moment before he forces his body to relax, Oberyn despised the mention of anything to do with the Lannisters, including that bastard on the throne. Everyone knows the rumors and with the golden mane of the boy and the tales of evils he has done, he’s inclined to believe it. “Gods be praised.” He murmurs sarcastically, reaching for the carafe of wine and the spare goblet that had obviously been left in anticipation of his visit with the elder prince. “What poor girl is marrying that…king?”

“Margaery Tyrell.” The elder prince huffs derisively before leveling his younger brother with a serious gaze. “You are to attend the wedding in my stead.”

Rolling his eyes, Oberyn sighs heavily. It will be two weeks of hard traveling to reach King’s Landing. All for a wedding he does not wish to attend. “I will extend the Martell family’s feelings.”

"You will be gracious and accommodating." Doran warns, knowing that the Martell family's true feelings are not appropriate in any way to be expressed at a wedding. "There will be some other business for you to attend to in King's Landing which is far more important."

“Yes, there is that wonderful brothel down in Flea Bottom.” Oberyn muses, grinning at the idea of bringing Ellaria there. The last time he had come, it had been two years before he had met her.

"Oberyn." His brother's voice has a warning tone to it. "I beg you not to waste your time in brothels on this trip no matter how enjoyable a pastime it may be. There is someone you need to meet."

He snorts and shakes his head. “I have no interest in meeting boring nobles with their equally boring wives.” He tells him. “I’ll be with Ellaria anyway.”

"No, you won't." Doran jerks away from his servant in frustration and turns to fully face Oberyn. "I will not have that woman jeopardize the contract I have signed when the ink is barely dry. Leave her home, Oberyn. She will be here with open legs when you return."

Oberyn’s brow arches up dramatically. Doran has never had issue with Ellaria, even counting her as a confidant in his absence. She is the mother of four of his children and a member of the family despite there being no vows between them. His soulmate. “What contract?” He growls.

"Leave." He hisses at the young man who was tending to him and he backs off immediately, taking the pot of oil back into the interior of the palace as fast as his feet can carry him. "It was time, Oberyn," he intones seriously. "Far past time, but I have let you have your freedom as long as I was able."

“Let me have my freedom?” His hackles rise and his eyes narrow. “I have my freedom because I wish it.” He reminds his brother. “I am not the head of the Martells like you, and you have your heir.”

"I have one heir." Doran bristles, but the raised tension between the brothers is his own fault. A product of the tension and pain he was already feeling today. "If anything should happen to Trystane, it will be you on the throne. And though I have great love for my nieces, none of them can be a princess."

“Our house will endure like it always has.” Oberyn snorts, dismissing Doran’s concern. “If the time comes, I will marry Ellaria and claim my Sand Snakes as legitimate.” He takes a long sip of his wine, humming at the delightfully floral note.

"The chance for that has passed." It is Doran's turn to be dismissive, sitting back again in his wheeled chair and adjusting a cushion under his arm. "Your objections to marriage have been noted, brother, but it is time to make a respectable husband of you. Ellaria will understand. She is an intelligent woman, and I'm sure would not abandon you as your mistress." Oberyn prefers the term paramour, and though it is accurate now, it will be more complicated once things are settled.

“Brother, what have you done?” Oberyn demands, slamming his goblet down onto the table.

"You know exactly what I have done." There is no chance, in his mind, that Oberyn has not deduced that a marriage contract has been signed, but Doran still sighs heavily. "She is the only daughter of a noble family. The father let her go without a match for some time while her brothers all married, but her portrait is beautiful and he assures me that she is accomplished." Reaching for the wine glass that Oberyn has rejected, Doran takes a gulp rather than a sip. "And she has no marks, blessedly."

“The agreement was my soulmate or no one.” Oberyn hisses, his gaze turning withering. “I will not marry some cow faced northerner.”

"Every place is northern to Dorne," Doran waves one hand dismissively and sets the wine glass back down on the table between them. "The contract is signed, Oberyn. You will not make a liar or a fool of your brother by denying it, and I am not going to try to force you to spend time with the girl or even like her. But you will marry her and produce a legitimate heir." The contract is full of terms to be adhered to, and the fairly enormous size of the girl's dowry includes access to trade routes that will greatly benefit the people of Dorne. There is no downside to this arrangement in Doran's mind, aside from having to have this discussion with his brother.

Oberyn’s lips press together in a firm line and his chair scrapes back as he stands. “Then you fuck the girl.” He hisses. “For I will not be gracing her bed.” Turning on his heel, the prince storms away before he loses his infamous temper.

Doran breathes a sigh, reaching for the goblet again to drown his frustrations in the wine that his maester has instructed him to avoid when he is in pain. "Fuck it," he grumbles harshly. Oberyn is going to make his life a living hell anyway, he may as well be drunk for it.

******

“Marriage!” Oberyn scoffs angrily, pacing in front of the lounge where his paramour is currently sprawled. “As if I am some fresh-faced maiden. How dare he sign a contract on my behalf!”

"I smell Mellario behind it," Ellaria admits, watching him pace back and forth like a caged beast. Oberyn had come careening back into his chamber like a sandstorm and now he was seething. "Doran has never had issue with your arrangement before now, and suddenly he is concerned about heirs? I would not be surprised if her change has come."

“Or he cannot get his cock to rise.” Oberyn winces at the idea of his own cock not working, but with his brother’s declining health, he would not rule it out. “I will not do it.” He decides. “We will leave for Braavos if he decides to push the issue.”

"My love," Ellaria sits up, shaking her head. "If you leave here, I would follow. You know this. But you would still have four daughters you would not be able to see and we both know that would break your heart." His children are the most important thing in the world to Oberyn – everyone knows this – and Doran would certainly use them as a punishment for insubordination. "Exile is no choice, Oberyn. Even self-imposed."

Pausing mid-stride, his robes swish around his legs as he turns to stare at the woman who had been with him and by his side for nearly twenty years. “You would have me entertain this idea?” He demands, surprised she would consider this.

“I would not have you be less of a man than you are.” For all her complexities, Ellaria Sand is not the temptress or the snake that some make her out to be. Her genuine love for Oberyn is rooted in as much respect as it is passion, and their four daughters currently have a father that they can look up to as a good and wise man. “What is the worst this girl could be?” She poses the question carefully as he shifts his weight anxiously in front of her, and she folds her hands in her lap. “Ugly? That is not her fault. The sun and good company can make anyone more beautiful. Cruel? Doran has already said you do not have to spend much time with her. Or perhaps childish? Spoiled? Then you treat her like a child and send her to her chamber without a treat if she misbehaves.” There is anger in his face, which Ellaria hates to see, but she tries to be encouraging. Motherhood has taught her that encouragement can be a balm on almost any wound. “So you would be married. What does that signify? Nothing in so far as you and I are concerned. You are still my soulmate, my love. And the father of my children. She cannot change that.”

“You are my sun.” Oberyn reaches down and takes his lover’s hand to draw her to her feet. Pulling her against his body, his broad hand covers the small scar on her side, a knife wound that he had earned in the fighting pits. “My world.” He promises, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers in a passionate kiss, trying to rid himself of the idea of tying himself to another. Ellaria is his soulmate, which is why he had said that he would only marry the woman who bears his marks.

"And no one will ever change that." She vows just as solemnly, giving herself over to the kiss without restraint. There are parts of his world that she does not stray into, or they would have fought with Doran for the right to marry years ago. The elder Martell brother may not mind her as Prince Oberyn's paramour, but she is not what he would envision for a princess of Dorne, nor does Ellaria particularly want such a title. For Oberyn she might have borne the duty of it all, but he never asked that of her and she was grateful. Now, whoever this girl is that is being thrust into their life will bear that burden instead. Ellaria does not envy her the responsibility.

******

“My love, you must calm yourself.” Within the walls of your chambers, Raeden Stone knows that the two of you are safe. Your maid will not interrupt unless necessary and she is sworn to protect your happiness and well-being above everything else, including your parents. “Stop.” Striding across the room, the sword at his side clanks as he grabs your hands filled with dresses, and takes them from you. “We cannot flee under the cover of darkness like we are thieves escaping the sword.” He knows that if he is caught, he will be killed or sent to the Wall as well.

"I won't do it." The very idea is offensive, leaving the taste of burnt crumbs in your mouth and the feeling of insects crawling on your skin, so that even with Raeden clutching your hand all you can think of is being rid of the horrible sensation. This whole horrible situation. Your eyes are already red from tears, their dried tracks left on your cheeks and down your neck, yet still more threaten to spill over as he holds you still. "I won't marry a stranger and move halfway across the world. I won't leave you behind!"

“You will not need to leave me.” Setting the clothes down on the trunk that is meant to be packed for your journey to King’s Landing and then to Dorne, he cups your cheeks. “I will pledge to accompany you.” He promises, his dark eyes boring into yours. His heart aches but he had known this day would eventually come. “I will ride into all seven hells if need be to stay beside you.”

"Why can we not just tell them?" Your smaller hands wrap around his long fingers, holding tight to him as though he might disappear if you let go. "To marry my soulmate should not be such a shocking thing to do, surely?" Having gone over and over it in their time together, you know why. Status. For a young noble woman to marry a bastard of no consequence, soulmate or otherwise, would be unacceptable in any part of Westeros.

“I have no name to offer you, other than Stone.” Raeden reminds you, aware of his station. He had only become a trusted member of your guard when he had risked his life for you nearly three winters ago. No one knew of the shared marks on your skin. No one could know. “No coin, no land, no future.”

"I could be your future." The argument is an old one. Aged and worn like the stones in your floor. The fact that you would abandon your station and your family for him is moot now that your father has sold you. "Three brothers married wealthy wives and yet I am the sacrificial lamb to be offered up to the lecherous second prince of Dorne." The stories of the man's temperament and deeds preceded him, of course. Lusty and vengeful, the second son of House Martell was to be feared never spoken of above a whisper in polite company. And now you have to marry him?

“I have heard he is handsome.” Despite his own heart aching at the thought of another touching you, he has to make this seem like a good thing. “They say he will treat any in his bed respectfully.”

"He could be the most handsome man in all of Dorne and he would still not be as handsome as you." Soulful eyes the color of chestnut shells, plush lips, and a perpetually mischievous smile when he’s pleased, there is no one more handsome than Ser Raeden Stone. Firm muscles and an impressive strength make him as formidable on the battlefield as they do in the bedroom - a fact which you have kept mum about for years now. Raeden's broad frame and towering height envelope you fully when you wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face in his chest to muffle a sob. "I will never lay with him. Or love him. Not as long as I live."

“You will be his wife.” He swallows as he says those words. “You will bear his children, love or not. And I will protect you.” It will be his own special kind of hell, watching you grow with a child that is not his, marry a man who is not him. “You must not tell him, love.”

"How can you be so calm?" You demand, looking up at him with fear and hurt swimming in your eyes. "My father is sentencing me to stand at the side of another man and you...my love, I cannot believe you are accepting of this?"

“I have no choice but to accept it.” His voice hardens slightly. “If we try to run away together, we will be caught. I will be killed or sent to the Wall.” It rankles, but he had known that one day you would be married off. “I cannot protect you if I am dead or taken the oath.” He growls, shaking his head and leaning in to press his forehead against yours. “I cannot risk leaving you alone.”

"Only cruel gods would have given us to each other as soulmates without ever intending to allow our love." It is an unfairness of life that you have lamented more than once, but right now it feels as though a dagger has been plunged through your heart and twisted violently.

“The gods know of our love.” Raeden knows it, sighing softly. “We are together and we will still be together.” He kisses you softly. “I spend more nights in your bed than my own. It will be the same in Dorne.”

"I will not allow it to be any other way." Despite the fear of the unknown, the thing that you can cling to is the strength of your feelings for Raeden Stone. Since the day he arrived rather triumphantly in your life, he has been a constant and welcome presence and you will not allow any power to steal your soulmate from your side. "No prince from Dorne will ever keep you from my arms."

“There is my girl.” Raeden smiles, happy that you are calm again and he presses closer to you. “Now…do you wish that I take your mind off your worries?” He coos softly.

“I always wish for you.” Though time is precious now, as you leave for King’s Landing in just three days and the road is no place for a romantic interlude. Raeden will not even be allowed to ride in your carriage during the journey. His place as your guard demands that he protect you, not indulge in you. Although he is fully capable of doing both.

The grin that you have said melts you flashes across his face and he pulls back so he can remove his belt and sword. “Then let me make you forget about Dorne, forget about marriage and only think of me.”

******

The painstaking journey feels ludicrous, and your weary mother certainly has not made it any easier with her complaining. The decision for your parents to accompany you was entirely your father’s and even then it was only so that he could brag to his small group of friends that he attended the king’s wedding. If this were only about delivering you to your groom, he would have sent you with your guard and your maid and thought no further on it. As it is, you have spent every day sitting beside your mother’s lady’s maid in the cramped and uncomfortable carriage praying that you might get even ten minutes alone with Raeden before the end of the day. It has hardly happened, and you have found yourself near tears rather constantly. Ignorant man that your father is, he imagines you so delirious with joy that you are weeping for your good fortune. The truth could not be further away.

“Do not fret.” Your mother assures you softly. “We have long had daughters marry in Dorne or Dornish brides sent to us.” She reminds you. “While most will look their noses down at a Dornish man, we know he will treat you well.”

“I still do not see why this marriage is even necessary.” And since no one has offered you any sort of explanation, you’re inclined to just ask. “My brothers married wealthy women. We do not need the favour of House Martell. So I am forced to wonder again why I am being offered to them in sacrifice.”

“Change is coming to Westeros.” Your mother leans in, her words quiet and fervent. “Dorne is the last kingdom that still has royalty. You will not just be a lady, you will a princess.”

"I do not want to be a princess." You inform her flatly, ignoring the way her lady's laid looks aghast at your ingratitude. "My own maid had more freedom than I do. At least someone asked her if she wanted to be shipped south like chattel. And she was even able to say no!" Though Clarey had served you since you came of age, your own maid had been able to marry her soulmate and had recently discovered she was with child. Your father had considered himself quite magnanimous for not breaking up that family to send her to Dorne with you.

“You would have your father break his contract with Dorne?” Your mother asks, appalled at the mere idea. “You were born into a noble house. You have grown up knowing your father would arrange a marriage for you. Most are married at seventeen.” She clicks her tongue in disappointment that you are forever ungrateful for the time your father had allowed you to remain unwed. If you only knew the rumors that had swirled.

"If you always planned to marry me against my will then I wonder that you waited so long." Staring out of the carriage window, you can see Raeden up ahead, face drawn in concentration as he keeps constant vigilance over the route you are traveling. "Why not have signed me away to the Starks when I was born?" The bitterness in your voice is obvious. "Then I would have been a queen."

“You will watch your sharp tongue, or you shall be sent to your room without dinner.” Your mother hisses, sitting back and shaking her head. “Your father wanted to hold out hope for a soulmate.”

"I am not a child, as you so love to point out when it is convenient to you." The threat of no dinner is nothing when you have no appetite to begin with. It would be a blessing not to be stared at over a meager meal. "And you can hardly send me to my room when I haven't one. We will not even arrive in King's Landing before first light tomorrow."

Your mother’s hand strikes out, slapping your cheek with a sharp crack. “You will not shame your father and house.” She hisses. “I have long begged your father to marry you off, to stop giving into your childish notions, but no more. You will marry Oberyn Martell.”

If the impulse to cup your own cheek was present, you don’t give in to it, not wanting to show the satisfaction of acknowledging that she has caused you pain of any kind. At the moment all you can really think is that it is good Raeden did not witness your mother striking you, or he may have given himself away with his reaction. “At least in Dorne I will never again be forced to breathe the same odious air you have exhaled.” No one in all of Westeros could ever have mistaken your mother for your ally if they saw you interact in private – it is only her sickly sweet countenance in public that made others think that she had babied or favoured you in any way. More than once in your life you’ve wondered how such a hateful woman could even grow a babe let alone birth four of them.

“You will learn your place soon enough.” She promises you. “You are a woman, not a man.” Her disappointment in you pours off of her in waves. “Be thankful your father did not choose a fat, aging lord.”

“Fat and aging means he would die faster.” At least antagonizing your mother is passing the time, you decide, staring straight ahead at the pompous boil of a woman who has lorded herself over you for the last twenty-five years. “I think I would do very well as a widow.”

“I wonder if your bravery would falter learning that your guard will not be staying with you.” The sly, evil menace in your mother’s voice is clear.

“Of course he will.” Brazen confidence is the tone which drowns out your panicked fear, and you tell yourself not to look outside and give yourself away. That could ruin everything in less than one heartbeat. “He swore to Father to protect me and Father accepted.” If something had changed, surely Raeden would have told you.

“Hmmmm.” Her smile is acidic, her fingers twisting around her handkerchief. “You think you are soooo clever. That I did not know.”

“Honestly?” Honestly you really did not think for a second that anyone besides your former maid knew anything, but you swallow down the boiling acid in your throat and keep your chin poised to stare your own mother down. “I do not know what you could possibly mean.”

“I birthed you.” She snorts, a very unladylike sound. “You think I do not know when my daughter had decided to spread her legs and become a Stone’s whore?”

Of course the thing that bothers her most is that Raeden is a bastard – Stone, as they are named in the Vale – and not an actual concern of safety or care. “I can assure you, that is not the case.” Though saying it would be a waste of breath, nothing you have done with Raeden could mark you as a whore. Just a woman very much in love with her soulmate.

“At least you just bled.” She scoffs. “Not carrying a bastard in your belly.” She leans in, her eyes flashing with malice. “Behave. Or I will allow your father into my bed for the night and he will do as I say. Including making sure your precious Raeden rides home to the Vale with his lord, your father.” She threatens.

Though you have serious doubts that your mother’s cunt is magical enough to control your father’s thoughts, it isn’t a chance you’re willing to take. If Raeden is ordered to return to the Vale and you are forced to ride for Dorne without him, you are more likely to see the bottom of the seas than your marriage bed. “My Lord Father loves me and wishes to protect me,” is all you say in response.

“Your Lord Father will do what makes me happy.” She promises you with a self-assured smirk. “Especially now that I have convinced him to marry you off.”

“It was you?” You should not be so shocked. Her hatred for you has been obvious from the time you were a child and had never seemed to waver. Your father, on the other hand? Doting and indulgent, always picking flowers for you and bringing you books instead of suitors. Your brothers are strong men with discipline instilled in them. You had been allowed to read and dream and sing and ride at your leisure. Of course his sudden change of heart was down to your bitter, angry mother.

“Who else?” She sneers. “Your father would be content to keep you around until you are nothing but a spinster. You are already past your prime. Luckily enough, the Prince of Dorne already has eight bastards.”

The way her utter dismissal of you makes your blood boil is beyond explanation, but as you squeeze your hands together in the pockets of your robe, only one precious thought floats to the surface. “My only solace is that if I should ever see you again after this week, Mother, you shall have to curtsy to the person you despise most in the world.”

“I will not.” She hisses, glaring at you. “I will never bow to a little whore like you.”

“Oh, but you will.” A victory, even a small one, is enough to grasp at as you square your shoulders again. “When I am Princess of Dorne it will be required of everyone save King Joffrey himself. You included.”

“Bitch.” She hisses, glaring at you. “I should have drowned you the moment you slipped from my womb.”

“A regret you will live with forever.” If Knocking her from her wicked confidence is the best you can do in this conversation, you will not take that for granted, for your mother has always been a formidable enemy. “Now leave me to read, Mother. Lest you earn yourself another wrinkle and find your hair a shade greater than it was when we left home.”

“I will be overjoyed to not see your face every day.” She spits, hating that you don’t seem cowed by her threats. “Dorne will be eye opening for you. And everything you deserve:”

“As you say, Mother.” Without another word, you take the small book of histories from your reticule and open it to the place where you left off last night, too distracted by Raeden’s handsome face to give any more thought to words. False confidence is a thing you learned very well in the face of your mother’s vitriol, and apparently on this one occasion it has actually yielded a victory. You may still be terrified of your future in Dorne, but she never needs to know that.

******

“This city still smells like shit.” Two weeks of travel has left Oberyn irritable, grumbling as he pulls his horse up to the gates of the city. “Let us go find comfort and a bath.” He tells Ellaria, unable to stay in the carriage and deciding to ride ahead of the contingent of troops Doran had sent with him.

“At the brothel, my love?” She smirks at the suggestion, far less uncomfortable from travel than he is. “A bath, fresh food, and a good fuck will restore your mood.”

“Of course.” Oberyn scoffs. “I will not accept chambers in that keep.” He hates even being here and seeing it. Wanting to burn it down, considering his sister, niece and nephew died in that keep.

“Nor should you.” As a prince he should have the most resplendent rooms available, but they both know what would happen if Oberyn ever set foot in the Red Keep beyond the wedding in two days. “We will visit this Littlefinger you have spoken of?”

“I had sent word that we were arriving.” He chuckles, smirking at Ellaria because she knows him so well. “Tell me you don’t want a hot bath and an even hotter cunt?”

“If I am honest, I am ravenous for a cunt to bury my tongue in.” There is never any judgment between them, or jealousy, and Ellaria sighs indulgently at the idea of a slick cunt and perky tits to indulge in. “Will you share with me, lover?”

“Always.” Oberyn waggles his brows. “We will pick out a whore together.”

“A favorite pastime.” Ellaria laughs softly. She has not spoken a word about Oberyn’s intended bride since they left Dorne and she won’t until it’s necessary. His mood is volatile here in the northern capital and she does not relish his moments of anger.

“Silk sheets.” Oberyn groans, not willing to admit that he is weary of travel, but he needs to recover. Especially if he is to be meeting this bride. He had decided that the poor girl deserves to be told in person that he will have nothing to do with her.

“Silk sheets. Roasted meats. Wine. Berries and nuts fresh from their trees.” She giggles when his hand slips inside her dress to caress her skin. “And a pert ass for you to bury yourself in.”

“We could get two. A man and a woman.” He reasons, smirking at the idea. “Perhaps we will have Littlefinger line them all up for us to choose from.”

“As many as you like, my love.” After all, it is not as if the coffers of Dorne lack for funds. They have brought a fortune with them under Doran’s insistence that Oberyn shower his intended with gifts – and a second fortune to pay for the bills his natural extravagance will no doubt incur. “We will have whatever you desire. And when you have had your fill we will rest and then begin all over again.”

“Wine.” Oberyn decides, frowning despite thinking of nicer things as the two of them enter the walls of King’s Landing. “I will need a lot of wine.”

Their destination is not far, but the duo of Oberyn Martell and Ellaria Sand attract attention by virtue of their combined beauty and the onlookers who cluster to gaze at them make their journey last longer. Oberyn sends their driver off with the carriage to find stables nearby and Ellaria wraps her arms around him when he returns to her side in the steps of the building. “Do you hear the false moans, my prince?” She pouts in sympathy for the unsatisfied women inside as they cross the threshold together. “We will make them scream so they never forget us.”

Oberyn smirks, holding her hand with no shame. He does not hide Ellaria, she is his paramour. Much more than that, although that is something that is kept between the two of them, private at her insistence so she does not become a liability to him. “We will, my love. Every whore in this brothel will pout when you leave.”

“Very pretty pouts, I hope.” Ellaria loves a very pretty pout when the time is right. To be begged to come back to bed. To have a lover cry her name with such passion that their heart aches for more. She saunters into the brothel beside Oberyn with her head high and looks around as the prettily dressed woman at the entrance fawns over Oberyn. Everyone fawns over Oberyn, that is of little interest to her.

Oberyn eyes the cunts and tits on display, lifting a brow when he sees earrings through one woman’s nipples. “I see we are in the right place.” He smirks, watching as Littlefinger rushes over to the pair.

“Prince Oberyn.” Though he does not ever bow deeply, he does bow, eyes tracking over to Ellaria with an oily smile. “My lady. What an honour to be graced with your presence. What can we provide for you this morning?”

“My lady?” Ellaria scoffs, making Oberyn smirk and squeeze her hand. “We will be needing accommodations for the duration of our stay in King’s Landing.” Most brothels do not rent rooms and he is sure that Littlefinger’s establishment is no different but Oberyn has learned that his title and the gold of his coin makes things possible when they previously weren’t. “For now, until it is ready, we need baths and whores to join us.”

“The duration of your stay?” The man does not bother to hide his surprise, but smiles broadly like the showman that he is. “I will send someone to ready your accommodations,” he promises, hand on heart. “Our baths are this way,” Littlefinger motions deeper into the building. “Do you have a preference for who should join you or shall I send you a variety to choose from?” There is enough gold dripping from the Prince of Dorne that Littlefinger will unfold the world of pleasure at his feet if that is what he wishes, without worry for his ability to pay what is owed.

“Your choicest men and women.” Oberyn looks over to Ellaria for her approval. “Clean.” He insists, although Littlefinger’s whores are always of a higher caliber than most. “We will send the others away once we have chosen.”

“Leyth.” Littlefinger waves to a tall, buxom girl with orange curls down to her waist. “Tend to the prince and his lady for me,” he instructs her, obviously trusting that she can do the job. “Anything they need, you will acquire for as long as they are here, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” The girl called Leyth nods and smooths her thin skirt, looking between the beautiful prince and his stunning lady. “I will be happy to serve them.”

“Good.” The chuckle that bubbles out of Littlefinger is full of approval. “Take them to the baths and then fetch them food and wine.” He smiles at Oberyn, a thing dripping with false charm. “I will send you a selection of company to choose from.”

“Berries.” Oberyn adds, the need for fresh fruit after weeks on the road is great. Ellaria chuckles, well aware of his fondness for snacking, especially when he is fucking.

“Berries.” Leyth bats her eyelashes prettily as she leads the pair down the hall. “Do you prefer sweet things, your Grace?”

“Hmmmm.” He doesn’t answer one way or the other, although his gaze is sliding up and down her form and he reaches out to caress her ass through the sheer robe she is wearing.

She hums right back at him, playful but bidding, and slows her pace slightly to let him touch as they turn the corner to the bathing room. The deep bath in the floor sits full and waiting for paying customers, beautifully tiled with trays of soap and sponges for gently scrubbing skin. The oiled waters smell of flower petals, and two baths are even littered with the things. Leyth walks toward the bath of floral water with a sultry smile and a swing in her hips. “I will wash you with my own hands if that is your wish, after I fetch you food to break your fast.”

“What do you say my love?” Oberyn asks Ellaria. “Leyth and whoever catches our eyes?” He would love to see his paramour’s thighs spread for the orange haired beauty. “Or would you prefer to choose the woman?”

“You are lovely, Leyth.” Ellaria praises, already having decided that she likes this woman’s spirit as well as her figure. “We will see who else catches our eye when they arrive.”

“Show me your tits.” Oberyn commands the woman. Eager to see if they are as perky as they seem or if it is an illusion of the gown she is wearing.

Obedience is necessary to work for Littlefinger, but Leyth is lucky to have been given to this couple she finds so attractive. She slips the ties from her shoulders and lets her silken dress fall to the stone floor with pride. Her body is well worth selling and has given her a good living, so she proudly bares her large tits and curved waist to this prince when he demands it.

“Very nice.” Oberyn groans with a smirk. “They will look lovely bouncing when you ride my cock.” He predicts. “We can undress ourselves.” He promises, turning to Ellaria and pushing aside her own gown so he can cup her bare breast, tweaking an already hard nipple.

Ellaria moans happily when the girl excuses herself to fetch their food, and drops the traveling robe she was wearing to the ground immediately. “Lover…” she sighs, her body arching to seek Oberyn’s touch instinctively. “You were right about this place.”

“Of course I am right.” He teases playfully, leaning in and dragging his nose along her throat. “Now, we need to wash so we can be ready to play when the whores are brought in. I want to feed you fruit while a tongue is buried in your cunt.”

“Leyth is a beauty.” Ellaria disrobes easily and quickly, leaving her things scattered as she steps into the bath built deep into the floor. It is warm and smells sweet, like summer in the Water Gardens. “Pale, but I like her freckles.” She looks up at Oberyn with admiration as he shrugs off his own robes. “I like your freckles better, though.” Especially the one on the inside of his right thigh, high on his muscled leg where she can kiss it before swallowing his cock.

“Just like her tits are gorgeous, but yours have suckled four of my children.” His cock twitches and he kicks off his boots, throwing the loose, pale yellow shirt off and reaching for his leather breeches.

“Hers are bigger than mine.” Ellaria chuckles at the way he loves tits. “Enjoy them, lover. I know I shall.”

“You always do.” He chuckles, thanking the gods that his soulmate is just as adventurous as he is. “Maybe she will be the only one we choose for now.”

“Perhaps.” Sighing as she lays back in the water, Ellaria tilts her head and soaks her hair, enjoying the way she feels cleaner already. “Perhaps we will develop a taste for sun-red hair while we are here.”

“Whatever we develop a taste for, we will indulge in.” Oberyn does not mind sharing her, doesn’t get jealous because she is his sun and world. No one could break their bond.

“Come to me, lover.” She beckons him with both hands, pouting for him prettily. Now that travel is behind them, Oberyn is already cheerier and it lightens her heart. “Soak with me. It has been weeks since we had a bath.”

“With pleasure.” Stripped down, Oberyn strides over to the bath and starts to descend the stairs to join her in the deep tub.

Ellaria moves to him immediately, arms welcoming him home and lips finding his with a deeply satisfied moan. Her legs are around his waist as quickly as his hands find her ass, and his growing cock twitches against her soft skin.

Oberyn turns around, letting his paramour cling to him as he drops down onto the seat under the water. “I love you.” He murmurs quietly against his lips.

“As I love you.” Since the day they first spoke the words to each other they have not wavered, and Ellaria runs her hands across Oberyn’s skin reverently. “My warrior.”

“My sun.” Oberyn squeezes her ass and rocks her onto his hardening cock. “My world.” The passion between the pair has not wavered over the years, growing stronger in a way that could only be because of their soulmate bond.

“Oberyn.” No matter how many times she takes him, the stretch of his cock inside her takes her breath away. Her hands find his shoulders to cling to him as they find their pace, with his grip guiding her as she begins to bounce on his length in earnest.

“Too soon, my love?” He teases, knowing she is far more than adequately wet. She is dripping.

“Never.” She shakes her head before throwing it back, letting her moan ring out through the echoey chamber. “Never. I am always yours.”

Multi-tasking is a gift that Oberyn has. Results of a wandering spirit and a restless mind. It was one of the reasons he had joined the maesters and eventually left after forging eight links. He reaches for the perfumed soap and a rag to wash his lover.

They are fully enraptured with each other when Leyth returns, and she sets the tray down beside them before seeing about pouring two goblets of wine. It’s rare to have pairs of lovers visit the establishment but not unheard of, and she smiles indulgently, watching the passion they share for a moment before making herself known. “I can do that for you, your Grace,” she offers, knowing her employer will be upset if she neglects them.

Even with Ellaria impaled on his cock, Oberyn tears his mouth away from her lips and looks over at the woman. “Join us and bring the wine.” He orders. “Are the others coming?”

“They are right here.” Leyth slips into the water easily, taking the sponge from him and resumes the work of bathing his lady without missing a beat. Four women and two men all of varying ages and looks pour into the room behind her clad in next to nothing looking apprehensive.

“Do not be shy.” Oberyn turns Ellaria’s head and groans when she clenches down around him. “Any who wish to not join us may leave now.” He does not want someone who is timid.

The most tired looking of the women takes the youngest girl by the hand and leads her from the room with a respectful nod of her head, and one of the men bows before stepping out behind them. "Leaving us with five supple bodies to learn," Ellaria groans appreciatively. Between Oberyn's cock and Leyth's hands massaging her back as she washes her, this is surely already one of the seven heavens. One of the girls is the first to step forward, beautiful dark skin on display and bright eyes full of mischief as she easily discards her meager dress and slips into the water right away. She has heard legends of the second prince of Dorne and intends to find out for herself if they are true.

“Eager.” Oberyn chuckles and beckons her forward. “I like that.” His eyes slide past her towards the remaining man, tall and broad. His tawny skin clear and it’s obvious that his cock is starting to harden as he watches. “You—” he motions towards him. “Do you suck cock or like cock in your ass?”

"I like whatever you like, my lord." After all, is that not what he is here for? Being a man with a voracious appetite for pleasure makes him an asset in a place like this.

Oberyn growls, eyeing his cock tenting the loose trousers he is wearing. “Strip and join us if you are going to.”

Spacious as it is, there is not enough room for everyone in the bath, and the last remaining girl lays down bare on the edge after everyone has climbed in and patiently plays with herself while she waits her turn. There is plenty to feast her eyes on until one of them decides to bury their face in her pussy.

Twitching inside his lover, he kisses her gently and pulls her off his cock. “Go play, my love.” He urges her, knowing she wants to do more than just be touched.

"We may learn to enjoy King's Landing after all." Ellaria laughs, happily letting hands explore her skin. Leyth and the man gravitate toward Oberyn, and she is happy to drown herself in a sea of pussy until she is drunk on the sound of women's pleasure.

When he is close enough, Oberyn reaches down and cups the man’s cock firmly. “What is your name?” He demands, squeezing him gently and jerking him slowly.

"Cal, my lord." His eyelids flutter slightly at the firm touch, eager for more. "Or whatever you want it to be."

“Cal….” He smirks and presses his thumb against the head of the man’s cock. “Have you ever been fucked by a Prince?”

The way Cal shudders and his breath hitches is reverent, and he shakes his head as he tries to remember to breathe. "No, your Grace. But I would like to be."

He turns to Leyth, jerking his chin up. “Kiss me.” he orders, stretching his neck out and lets go of the man’s cock so he can slide his hand around him to press between the cheeks of his ass.

The room fills with moans as Leyth eagerly complies, licking into the prince's mouth with surety. She knows her skill and she hopes to impress, even pressing closer to him to wrap her own hand around his cock.

Oberyn hisses, his tongue sliding against hers happily as he finds Cal’s puckered hole quickly and starts to rub around the opening.Hands are everywhere as Cal lowers his head to lay kisses along the taut muscles of the prince's neck, one hand caressing his skin and the other groping for Leyth's breast to squeeze the supple flesh and play with her nipple. They are paired together often, when clients wish for a show, so he knows her body as well as any instrument.

“You are lovers.” Oberyn groans, pushing a finger inside the man’s quivering hole. On the other side of the bath, Ellaria and the ebony skinned beauty are tangled together in a passionate embrace.

"Sometimes." Leyth agrees, leaning over to give Cal a kiss without missing a single stroke of the prince's cock.

The sounds of heavy breathing and pleasure are filling the bathing room and he can feel the way Cal’s body squeezes his finger as he pumps it into him to stretch him out. “So do you want his cock or his tongue while I fuck him?”

"If I have his cock, I will feel every time you fuck into him." She moans at the idea, chest heaving with just the thought. "You will be driving us both wild with pleasure."

He chuckles and nods, pulling his fingers out of the other man. “Then get on your knees and let him slide inside your cunt.”

Kneeling on the bench where he had been sitting, Leyth presents herself easily for both men to appreciate and sighs out loud when the familiar stretch of Cal's cock presses inside of her wet heat. She knows that Cal is truly the one getting spoiled today and hopes the prince lives up to every rumour for his sake.

Oberyn can’t help but reach out and slap her ass and groans when her generous skin jiggles. “I will fuck you after I have had my fill of your lover.”

"He is insatiable," Ellaria offers, chuckling deeply before burying her face in the cunt nearest her talented mouth. Oberyn is not the only one with an endless appetite. It is one of the reasons that they have so much fun together.

“It has been two weeks.” He huffs, rolling his eyes. There hadn’t been any place to stop and fuck while on the road. He was pent up.

"No one here will complain, my lord." Cal promises, burying himself again in Leyth's cunt and groaning at her heat. "The stories of you are legend, and most of us are eager to know if they are true."

“They are true.” Ellaria pulls his tongue out of the cunt to purr her vote of confidence.

“Thank you, my love.” Oberyn chuckles and reaches for the oils that are kept on the edge of the bath for things such as this.

"Then we will add our praise to the stories that already exist." Soon Leyth will be able to do nothing but take the thrusts from the two men above her, but for now she meets each movement with a roll of her plush hips.

"We are yours for as long as you wish to stay." It is only half of a promise from Cal himself, having been instructed by Littlefinger himself to give Prince Oberyn whatever he wants, but at least now Cal can make the vow with pleasure.

Oberyn has no doubt that these people have been told to do whatever he or his paramour likes but he will only take what he deems right. “Only if I bring you both pleasure.”

"I cannot imagine you have trouble giving pleasure." Cal moans, bending over Leyth's back to present himself to the prince for the taking.

Coating his cock in enough oil to wash his entrance, the water in the bath sloshes as he shuffles closer and takes himself in hand. Pressing closer and pushing the head of his cock against the other man’s hole and slowly rolls his hips forward to break him open.

Cal curses, eyes rolling back into his head as the prince's girth fills him, and in turn pushes his cock further into Leyth's fluttering pussy. The bathing room may as well be their own private party in this moment, because of the large handful of people indulging in each other no one notices Littlefinger lurking by the doorway. True pleasure is rare in a whorehouse, so this is sure to be a lucrative visit for the proprietor.

Oberyn lets out a lusty groan when his hips are flush against the other man’s ass. “You do not flinch away.” He praises, wrapping his long arms around the man so he can cup Leyth’s generous breasts while he waits for the man’s muscles to relax around him.

“Pleasure is a gift.” Cal’s body shudders as he takes Oberyn fully, the stretch of him making the man pant and reach back to grasp the prince’s hip. “You have a very large gift, my lord.”

Oberyn chuckles quietly, pleased with Cal’s words and leans in to nibble on his ear. Enjoying the way he shudders again. “Let me show you what I can do with that gift.”

******

The Red Keep looms above you when you finally step out of your carriage, trying with all your might to block out your mother’s voice muttering indignities that your party was not greeted by a royal retinue at the city line. What utter nonsense. Your house is ancient and wealthy, yes, but certainly not royal and there is no reason for the royal Baratheons or Lannisters to pay you any heed. At least, outside the carriage, you can finally be more than a foot and a half away from your mother again.

“Alright, pumpkin?” Your father beams down at you before swinging off of his horse.

“Of course, Papa.” Of course not is the truth, but after days of spitting venom you are too tired to put up much of a fight. Besides, now that you know this is your mother’s doing, it is hard to be upset with your father for simply being a fool.

Your father beams at you as he steps beside you and offers you his arm. Not having an opportunity to talk much on the road, he wants to assure you. “I understand you are nervous because you have not been to Dorne, but your grandmother and her mother are from Dorne.” He reminds you. “And there is family in Braavos and across the Narrow Sea.” The long tradition of finding love outside the Vale is common, your father finding the free-spirited prince to be a far worthier match for you than some sniveling little lord grasping for favor. The idea that his daughter will be princess is also a factor.

“I shall visit them all at my earliest ability.” The idea of traveling to see family you have never met sounds infinitely preferable to spending even a minute in the presence of the prince you never agreed to wed, and for a moment you almost relax at the idea.

“I doubt your husband will allow anything other than you spitting out his heirs for the next few years.” Your mother scoffs. “You will be visiting his bed.”

“That is not for you to know or to decide.” You tell her, though the fact that she may be right makes you sick to your stomach. Two steps behind the three of you, Raeden could not have missed the comment but you cannot exactly turn to look at him.

Raeden keeps his gaze down, your mother’s words in his mind as he tries to decide if he had made the right choice. Perhaps he should have run away with you. He’s noticed the captain of your father’s guard eyeing him so he had tried to be as impassive as possible. His heart aches at the idea of you in the Prince’s bed, despite the rumors of his prowess and propensity for men and women, something that he shamefully shares with the Prince of Dorne. He had fought his attraction to the other men around him. Not even sharing it with you.

“My lord. My ladies.” A steward in the hallway bows to you dutifully and opens his mouth to welcome you to the Red Keep, but a swish of skirts and a silky smooth voice cuts him off from behind. “Lollard, I will greet my guests,” she instructs, sounding nearly severe before her voice pitches up to something delighted and seemingly terribly excited. “I was so pleased to see your banner approach that I could not help myself.” The woman declares, and you cannot tell if she means it or not. “Lady Margaery Tyrell,” she introduces herself with a broad smile. “It was I who sent your invitation. Welcome to King’s Landing, and to the Red Keep.”

“You are even more beautiful than your portrait, Lady Margaery,” your mother gushes, simpering to the woman who appeared to be several years younger than even you. “And how thoughtful of you to include our House in your nuptial feast. We are honoured.”

“It is I who am honoured.” She steps toward you with a smile. “To have the future princess of Dorne amongst my guests, and of course the ancient connection between our Houses makes us loving cousins, does it not?” The marriage of a Tyrell daughter into your House was four generations ago, but Margaery has never been one to overlook a string that might be pulled in her favour. At least not after her grandmother pointed it out.

Future princess of Dorne. Raeden’s fists clench at his sides as he tries to ignore the fury in his heart at that simple phrase. You will be a princess, and the gap between your stations will be more vast than before.

“We are flattered by such a personal welcome.” Beside you, your father is talking and patting your hand on his arm, but you barely hear him. Each time another person calls you princess or refers to the man who bought you, you feel closer and closer to being sick all over the floor. Or perhaps sinking in a wasting depression. If both are possible simultaneously, that may be the answer.

“Forgive me.” When you find your voice it almost cracks, but you put one hand to your stomach delicately. “I am delighted to make your acquaintance, Lady Margaery, but I am afraid I feel quite ill from weeks of travel. Would it be possible to be escorted to our chamber so that I might be well enough for a turn around the gardens later?” An ally – any ally – may be worth grasping, and you enjoy the way this young woman made your mother frown by not paying attention to her. For right now, though, you would do anything to be alone so that Raeden could visit you.

“Forgive me.” Margaery bows her head respectfully and gives a small, sincere smile. “My manners have forsaken me.” She gestures towards the keep. “Allow me to show you personally to your rooms. A light repast has been laid out for your pleasure as well.”

“How very kind of you,” you murmur, knowing you won’t touch a thing. The reality of your situation has stolen your normally healthy appetite.

Clever blue eyes catch the subtle grimace when she mentions food and yet she doesn’t comment on it. Sensing that you will have much to talk about, Margaery had invited you to stay in the keep as her guest after learning of your betrothal to Oberyn Martell. “This way.” She smiles and motions towards the left corridor.

Though you might not be fond of the games of society, you were raised in them, and you have sense enough that when the future queen offers you her arm you take it. That is how the first glimpse many guests to court ever have of you is strolling arm-in-arm with the woman who will become queen in two days time. It does not matter that you just met. It does not matter that she is chattering away politely while you simply smile your polite smile and nod. The future queen of the Seven Kingdoms and the future princess of Dorne paint a very pretty picture on their way through the halls of the Red Keep with your family trailing behind. If you weren’t so desperate to be alone with Raeden again and attempt to forget all this is happening, you might more fully enjoy the way your mother is green with envy.

______

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#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Oberyn Martell #Oberyn Martell x you #Oberyn Martell x reader #Oberyn Martell x female reader #Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand #reader x m!OC #male OC #female reader #male original character #Game of Thrones #soulmate au #arranged marriage

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yeollie-plz · 4 months

Text

Lords A Leaping

Day 10 of Pedromas! | Masterlist

Oberyn Martell x F! Reader x Ellaria Sand

Synopsis: Oberyn lets you and Ellaria take control.

Genre: smut

Warnings: sub! Oberyn, power bottom! reader, dom! Ellaria, pegging, oral m! receiving, anal sex, blindfolds, bondage, kissing, fingering, hickeys, f! masturbation

Gif credits to owners!

When Ellaria first suggested you to take more control in the bedroom, you were a bit taken aback. Oberyn was usually the one in the dominant position. Ellaria sometimes would take it as well. But you? Never.

After a bit of convincing, though, you agreed. Especially when she came to show you what she had made for you.

You weren't sure how she got it but as she removed the silken covering, you locked eyes with a replica penis. It was attached to a sort of leather buckle system as to attach it to you.

Your jaw dropped at the sight, it was very similar to Oberyn's own member. Almost down to the vein. It was gorgeous.

Ellaria showed you how it worked that night. Attaching it to herself and letting you feel it, fucking you with the crafted dick. You had to admit it was was very nice, not as warm as a real penis but it sure did the job. Oberyn might just like this.

That night as you made your way to his chambers, you had the fake cock tucked away in your bag, along with a few other special items. Opening the door you saw Oberyn laying sideways on the bed. He was perched on one elbow, stark naked, already ready for you to join him.

You smiled to yourself, loving the fact that he was already so pliant for you. As you glanced to the corner of the room, Ellaria sat there watching you carefully. She nodded to you to continue.

You set the bag down on the floor at your feet. Stripping yourself down as well, swaying your hips a bit as you did. He looked at you like he wanted to devour you.

You leaned down, letting your breasts push out to tease him a bit as you did. Grabbing the blindfold and the rope from your bag, holding it out to him so he could see what it is.

His eyebrows furrowed as his eyes squinted, trying to see what you had. He reached out to touch the soft fabric finally realizing what it was. Smirking, knowing what you were about to do, he leaned forward just a bit to allow you to fasten the blindfold around his eyes.

"Tie his hands too, love." Ellaria says from where she's sitting. You follow the orders without question.

Now that Oberyn is fully constricted, you can begin the main event. Well the lead up to the main event. Starting at his thighs, your fingers ghost across his skin. His body bucks up at the ticklish feeling. Upwards you go, gaining more and more reactions, he's already so sensitive. Must have been waiting for this, for you.

You swallow, almost nervous. When your hand finally makes it high enough to the soft skin of his neck, you put a bit more pressure there. Gaining a gasp of shock from him, you know he's sensitive there. Smirking to yourself, you bring your lips down on his neck. You lick stripes over his Adam's apple and towards the shell of his ear. Now his hips are bucking up, the feeling going straight to his dick.

Loving what you are doing to him, you continue to suck at his neck, leaving small bruises behind. You lick up his chin and across his bottom lip, his mouth opens in anticipation. Kissing him, you push your tongue into his mouth, fighting with his.

He's all but begging at this point with how easy his body is reacting to yours. Then there's the annoyance of not being able to use his limbs and touch you. Oh, to feel your warm skin under his fingertips.

As you pull your mouth away from his, a string of saliva still connects you two. It gives you an idea. You lick down his chest, across his stomach, and down his happy trail. Oberyn's hands pull at his restraints. He needs to feel you.

It's almost as if you can hear his thoughts because right after he is thinking that, you sinking your mouth down onto his cock. Taking almost all of his throbbing member into your mouth. You gag just a bit as his dick hits the back of your throat. But of course, Oberyn loves the feeling of you choking on him and moans.

You don't suck him fast, you take your time. Pulling off his dick slowly, making sure to run your tongue along the underside of it, as you make your way to the tip. You kitten lick his sensitive tip, his body tenses. Smirking again, you sink down onto his dick again, moaning at how much control you have over him. You continue this for a while, keeping it slow and steady. You don't want him to cum yet, but you also want him to be pleasured.

"Why don't we have some real fun with him?" Ellaria questions you. You had almost forgotten she was there and when you glance over at her through your lashes you are drooling at the sight. Her hand is playing with her soaked folds as the other is massaging her breast.

With one last deep swallow of his dick, you are pulling off of him. The cold air mixed with your leftover saliva, causes him to shiver. You left your hands tease up his body again, but this time a bit faster.

"Bend over for me." You whisper in his ear before licking the shell of it again. He gulps in anticipation, he really has no clue what you are about to do with him. And since he has a blindfold on he doesn't physically see you get up off the bed and retrieve the replica penis.

With a bit of resistance from his tied hands, he figures out how to flip himself over for you. Ass now in the air, hands gripping the woven material of the headboard to keep his body up for you. You encapsulate his body with yours, despite yours being smaller, and grip his dick from behind him. You stroke it twice before trailing your hand up his chest and pushing two fingers into his mouth. He licks them greedily.

Now that they are properly coated, you bring them back to his ass. Pushing them past the ring of his asshole, slowly, knowing it probably hurts. But he welcomes the stretch and moans at the feeling.

"Please." Now, he is begging.

But you give him what he wants, pulling your fingers out of his ass and pushing them again, matching the pace you once were using on his dick. You curl your fingers inside of his cavity, hoping to stroke his prostate. Although it obviously feel good, you don't think your fingers are quite long enough to reach it, but soon you will be able to.

His hips are bucking into the sheets, you know he is loving the feeling of his dick stroking against them. Usually, Ellaria would stop this sort of disobedience from someone, but she isn't so you don't either. He should get a bit more pleasure if he wants, anyways.

You push a third finger into him, it slides in easily with the other two and you know he is ready. Pulling your fingers out you move to grab the device. He lets out a sound of confusion at the loss of your touch.

You stroke his ass in reassurance, "Patience, you'll love this."

A sound of tentative agreeance. You buckle the device to your hips, it surprises you when it presses lightly onto your clit. You weren't expecting that. You were getting off enough by pleasuring Oberyn, but this was an excellent bonus.

You spit into your hand and stroke the phallice, coating it. As you press the tip to his prepared asshole, it slides in easier than you expected it. And Oberyn sure isn't expected that stretch because he lets of a surprised noise. Sure, he's been fucked in the ass before, but not with a device like this.

It's a new sort of feeling for the prince, it isn't as warm as a real penis and a lot stiffer, but not unpleasant. With a bit of a learning curve, you push the entire fake cock into him, now hitting his prostate. The instant pleasure of this action causes him to lose his balance a bit.

You start the thrust in and out of him, hitting his prostate each time you do. Oberyn never lasts long like this, and you are kind of grateful because your hips already burn. Knees scrape the soft sheets, as you aren't used to being the one fucking someone.

Oberyn has now let go of the headboard and is using his elbows to prop himself up. This helps you hit even deeper into him, the sheets around his dick are now fully helping to bring him closer to his peak. You are fucking him and he is basically fucking the bed.

Hips meet yours as he fucks his ass back onto the replica dick, needing to get off. You let him, hands grabbing him to pull him back even harder onto it. Pace now faster than you have been going all night as the fake cock is also hitting your clit. You now need the pleasure as much as he does.

One last snap of your hips and he is shooting ropes of white cum into the sheets, staining them with his spend. Moaning out your name like it is a prayer.

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absurdthirst · 7 months

Text

The Dornish Sun {Oberyn Martell x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 18.1k

Warnings: Step Uncle/Niece relationship, slight age gap, fingering, oral sex (female and male receiving), loss of virginity, pregnancy, childbirth, angst, infidelity, heartbreak, war, murder, rape, threesomes, mff relationship, poisoning, revenge

Comments: Of course a love story with Oberyn Martell would be tumultuous. Especially when the Seven Kingdoms is in chaos and the Baratheon rebellion breaks out.

A/N: You know that scene in HOTD where Rhaenyra leaves her birthing bed to take the baby to see the Queen? That completely inspired this.

🚨🚨DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT - this story contains canonical events including murder and rape (Elia Martell)🚨🚨

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Oberyn Martell MasterList ||

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

Doran Martell married your mother and took you as his own daughter when you were eight years old. Carrying you away from the moldering estates you were born on and you had finished growing up in the castle at Sunspear and then later the Water Gardens when your father had grown too ill to stay in the steeply staircased fortress with his wheelchair.

The day you met Oberyn, his youngest sibling and only brother, you had fallen in love. His chiseled jaw, uncaring demeanor and his delight in allowing you to follow him around had created a painful crush for you, your cheeks heating to near flames when he had picked you up as a towering teenager of fourteen. He was your handsome red viper as you heard others call him and you had decided then and there that one day, you would marry Oberyn and become his princess.

When you were a woman grown, your crush had not waned. Growing even deeper and embedding in your heart to where no one but Oberyn would do, you argued with your papa that you should be aligned with the second born heir to House Martell, solidifying your place in the family and your own succession if Arianne did not wish to take over when your father passed. It did not help that you could tell Oberyn wanted you, his eyes following you as you went about your duties, the small smirk on his lips far from familial affection.

“Give me one reason, a good reason why I cannot marry for love?” You ask, your jaw set in stubborn determination as you look over at your father, the subject of husbands ones that you are tired of talking about. You do not want any of the men your father has suggested would make good husbands. “You married mother for love.”

Doran sighs, rubbing his cheek, “that was different. Your mother…Oberyn is your uncle.” Doran argues and you shake your head.

“We are not blood. He is my uncle in name only.” You counter. Your own lord father had passed when you were aged six, meaning your mother was eligible to marry Doran and thus you have younger half siblings.

“It will not look good to our enemies. Allowing my daughter to marry my brother…they will cry out in protest.” Doran argues and you scoff.

“Like the Lannister rumors aren’t worse?” You argue and Doran shakes his head.

“I do not care about the Lannisters. You are my daughter and you shall marry to help our alliances. A lord from the North, a Stark, has asked for your hand. You will be marrying him.”

“I do not want to leave Dorne.” You frown, unable to even imagine living in the cold north with those joyless Starks. Duty and winter coming are all they care about, you had not been impressed when you had met them two years ago when Ned Stark and another had traveled to Dorne to speak with your father. “I wish to feel the sun on my skin, the sand under my feet. I belong here.”

“You belong where I tell you that you belong. You will marry the Stark boy. You will allow our alliances to continue and you will do your duty. Seven hells, I saved you and your mother from a destitute life and you shall repay me for that.” Doran’s tone is final, no longer the loving father you’ve come to adore, no, he’s a prince. A leader.

You hiss in anger, pushing away from the table with a loud screech from your chair and rushing away. Heartbroken and angry that your father would condemn you to a fate that in your mind is worse than death. Running through the halls towards the gardens, your slippers are silent on the stone floors and your floating dress flaps behind you. You will not marry a Stark, you will not.

Oberyn is walking down the hallway when he sees you running. He reaches out to stop you, his hands on your shoulders. “My sun, why are you running? Surely my brother has not been so cruel as to make you run away from the beautiful gardens?” He coos, cupping your cheeks when you look at him, tears in your eyes.

“Father is sending me to Winterfell.” You close your eyes and the tears slip down your cheek. “I am to be wed to a Stark, to live my days in the snows of the North where the sun freezes.” You swallow and open your eyes again, looking into his dark orbs. “I - I do not want to wed into that house. I wish to stay here, with you - and father.”

The look in Oberyn's eyes is harsh, soft gaze turns to steel as he imagines you in Winterfell, belonging to another man. No, he won't allow it. Despite his brother's urges that he should find a bride, Oberyn has been unable to move on from you. You - you are his niece by name but not by blood yet the guilt of wanting you, of loving you, has never waned. However, to imagine you with another...it's more than Oberyn can take. "Come with me to my rooms, we shall drink some wine and discuss what can be done to change my brother's mind." He cups your cheek before taking your hand, eager to guide you to his chambers.

You follow him willingly and will follow him anywhere. His exile several years ago had been hard to deal with and you had often come to his chambers to sleep while he was gone, the servants finding you asleep in his bed. Now, you spend less time with him since you are a lady, your father wanting you to appear more mature for your station and years. Despite the lax nature of Dorne compared to the rest of the Seven Kingdoms, you are still under scrutiny.

“Oberyn.” He squeezes your hand and you fall silent, entering the large bedchamber and watching as he lets go of your hand to walk over to the pitcher of wine that is ever present on a table along with his favored berries.

Oberyn pours you a glass, handing you the goblet before repeating the action for himself. “Sit.” He orders, pointing to the loveseat and he brings you the wine and sits down beside you. “Tell me why you do not wish to marry a Stark.” He wants to hear you say what he suspects but he won’t show his hand just yet.

Looking away, you take a sip of your wine. It would be better if you were a man and could be expected to speak plainly about such things. Even here you were not supposed to acknowledge the ache you have for a man, not while still being innocent. “Ned Stark is boring.” You whisper. “Too self righteous and I-“ you pause, glancing at your handsome uncle by marriage before you look down at your cup. “I love another.”

Oberyn isn’t dumb. He’s seen the way you look at him and he knows he should say no, that it’s foolish for you to want him…but he can’t. Not when he feels the same. He was exiled, returned home to no one but you. You talked to him, you listened to his stories and he fell in love with his niece by marriage. “Marriage is not always about love, my sun. Marriages are for alliances. Political purposes. Do you wish to put your father at a disadvantage for love? Is this love too great to ignore in favor of your duty?” He asks, having asked himself that same question many times when Doran tried to marry him off but he is far too stubborn.

“What about my duty to my own heart?” You shake your head, dismayed because you thought of all people - Oberyn would understand. “I would not be a good wife to a man I could not endure. How would I lay in his bed, under his rutting body and bear his children?” You bite your lip, sighing and lifting your cup to your lips again. “My father has other alliances, other deals he can make. My heart shouldn’t be a bartering tool.”

Oberyn’s cock twitches at the thought of you beneath him and the jealousy he feels at the thought of someone else touching you, having you. It makes his jaw clench. “You would rather have passion? A husband who wants to make you shake with pleasure? A man who will suck on your nipples until you are dripping wet, his fingers finding your bundle of nerves, making you moan until he buries his tongue deep into your cunt, working your tight heat until you nearly drown him. A man who will slide his cock into you with the aim to make you cum, make you clench around his length until your thighs are shaking, instead of purely to get you pregnant. Is that what you want, my sun?” He leans closer, his breath washing over your face.

You whimper pitifully at the vivid imagery he creates with his words. Breath hitching and you inhale the sweet scent of wine and berries from his too close mouth. Your eyes flit down, tracing the angel’s kiss on his lower lip and your tongue slides out to wet your own, having wanted to trace his lips so often that you swear you have done it before. You can barely look back up into his own dark eyes and you swear you see lust in their depths. “Yes.” You whisper, nodding and pressing your thighs together to quell the ache there. “I want y- that.”

Oberyn leans even closer, reaching for the goblet so he can set them both down on the table nearby. You exhale shakily as he moves away from you, heart pounding and you are upset he doesn’t want you, tears stinging in your eyes. Oberyn takes a moment, knowing this will change everything but he can’t hold back anymore. He wants you. He turns back, seeing the way your eyes avoid his and he tuts, surging forward to press his lips to yours but before he says “I want you, my sun.”

Melting into him, you moan into the kiss, allowing him to take over completely. Clinging to the edges of his robe, your entire body lights up with the glorious knowledge that Oberyn wants you. “Have me.” You beg when he kisses along your jaw. “I am yours.” You know you shouldn’t, that you should pull away but you don’t think about that. Too caught up in your dream coming true to act rationally.

Oberyn should pull back, he definitely shouldn't go any further than this but fuck, he has been keeping away for so long, it feels physically painful to pull back from you in this moment. His tongue slides into your mouth and he reaches for you to pull you into his lap, his breath mingling with yours as he methodically tugs on the strings that keep your robes in place.

You aren’t completely innocent. You know the reputation Oberyn has started to cultivate. It was one of the reasons why he was exiled for that dark time when you were younger. He has had lovers and yet you do not hesitate when you feel the warm air from the open windows on your skin. Your nipples are hard from need and you let him unlace your dress and strip you down with an eagerness that can’t be contained as you run your hands along his broad shoulders and slip them under the light linen brocade to touch his heated skin.

Your touch ignites something in him and he grabs your thighs, lifting you up as he stands and he throws you onto his bed. Shrugging off his robe to expose his chest and upper arms before he strides over to hover over you. “You have no idea, my sun, how many times I imagined seeing these tits.” He groans, leaning down to take a nipple into his mouth.

Gasping out his name, your eyes close in pleasure. Fingers digging into the silk sheets on his bed and twisting them in your hands while he sucks at your breast. The wet heat of his mouth is deliriously good and yet you want more, your dress pooled at your hips and you want to be bare underneath him. “P-please.” You beg, arching your back to offer yourself to him.

Oberyn isn’t in a rush, especially since he knows you are innocent. “Patience.” He tuts as he lifts up to switch to your other breast, leaning down to take it into his mouth, his dark eyes focusing on you while his hands caress your waist, one coming up to squeeze the breast he just abandoned.

You whimper, biting your lip and trying to just let yourself experience his touch. To not beg for more than he is wanting to give you right now. Your legs shift, thighs pressing together and you take advantage of him without his shirt. You had spent so much of your day drooling over his practices in the courtyards while shirtless and you touch his broad shoulders and back with a happy moan while he bites down on your nipple.

Oberyn tuts, reaching for your thighs to push them apart so he can press his body against yours, his cock hardening under his robes. He kisses your clavicle, up your neck until his body covers yours. “So eager, aren’t you? You want more?” He teases, pressing feather-like kisses to your jaw while his fingers slide under your gown, caressing your thigh.

“Yes. Please, more.” You whine, enjoying the way that his chest drags against your wet breasts. Your cunt clenches at the hardness that he is slowly grinding against you. “Oberyn.” You are in heaven right now, this is what you have always imagined and your nails drag down his back and you grab his ass in the leather breeches he is wearing, suddenly bolder than an innocent virgin should be. There is no fear, only want and need right now.

Oberyn chuckles at your eagerness, his fingers sliding higher until he finds your wet cunt, covered by the curls. “Mmm. So wet.” He groans softly, sliding his fingers through your folds a couple of times until he rubs your clit. “You’re so beautiful, my sun. Always - always imagined this.” He admits, knowing he’s tugged on his cock far too many times thinking about you recently. Or had another around him while he imagined it was you.

“I love you.” Your confession slips out unprompted, but you do. It has always been Oberyn since you have laid eyes on him. It will always be him. Your eyes close again and you let out a low moan while he rubs your clit as if he had done it a thousand times before. It was not like you hadn’t touched yourself before but it was so much more pleasurable with his fingers.

Your confession makes his heart thump in his chest and he knows you didn’t say it for him to say it back, you said it because it’s true. His fingers continue working your clit and he presses his lips back to yours, sliding his hand lower so he can push a finger into your tight cunt.

Gasping in delight and pleasure, your walls stretch around him, the thick finger curling up into your cunt. Grinding down on his hand wantonly, you know that this will be perfect. He is skilled and you love him, your walls clamping down around his finger while you turn your head to nip his jaw with your teeth like you have imagined doing a thousand times. You want to mark him, claim him as your own.

Oberyn groans softly at your nip, “my little sun has fire.” He chuckles, adding another finger as he pushes the digits inside of you. He wants you to feel only pleasure so he wants you dripping down his wrist. His thumb presses against your clit while his lips find yours again.

Whimpering against his neck, your arm tightens around him while he curls his fingers up. Taken beyond what you had ever been able to do yourself, you feel your legs start to shake while that tension builds up in your core. Hips meeting the thrust of his fingers on their own, your moans are uninhibited and you don’t care who would hear you beyond his doors.

Oberyn groans when your walls clamp down on his fingers when he presses his thumb against your clit a little harder, sending you over the edge. “So good, my sun. Can’t wait to be inside of you.” He murmurs, working you through it and he is determined to taste you too before he takes your innocence.

You cry out, back arching and colors burst behind your eyelids as pleasure courses through your body. “O-Oberyn!” You cling to him, shuddering and shaking underneath his touch. He keeps curling his fingers as he works you through it until you are panting out, completely wrung out.

Oberyn groans your name, loving the way you shake and the way you are already so spent. He chuckles, kissing your jaw and he shifts to kneel between your thighs, working on removing the rest of your gown so he can see all of you. “I want to see you, my sun. I want you bare. Mind, body, and soul.”

Lifting your hips, you have no shame as Oberyn strips you down to your skin. Laying in his bed as the evening rays of light shine through the slates covering his windows, you feel like this is where you are supposed to be. Watching as he rocks back onto his knees and looks down at your nude, virginal body. “I am yours.” You whisper, meaning every word.

Oberyn offers you a soft smile, nodding in understanding, and he caresses your calf before he shifts off of the bed to push his breeches down, releasing his aching cock from its confines. He desperately wants to slide into you but he can’t, he wants to taste you first.

You had not expected his mouth. When you had seen his cock, your leg had spread in anticipation of him climbing between them. Of feeling him deep inside you. Instead you gasp when his shoulders push your legs wider, his chuckle filthy when he winks at you and lowers his mouth to your dripping cunt to lick a long stripe through your folds. “Gods!” You cry out, head tilting back and fingers tangling into the silk sheets again.

Oberyn’s tongue is eager, sliding deeper inside of you and his nose presses against your clit. His fingers dig into your thighs, pushing them back towards your stomach so his tongue can slide deeper into your cunt. “You taste so good.” He smacks his lips as he pulls back for a moment before he dives back in.

If his fingers were magical, his tongue is even more so. Curling deep inside you to make you squirm before he is pulling out and flicking it against your clit, pulling another gasp out of you. Lewdly learning your body in a way that you had heard of but never imagined would be as good as it is. Quickly feeling your stomach clenching as he lashes your clit again and again with his tongue and pushing you towards another orgasm.

Your thighs start to shake and press against his head and he knows you are close. He wants you to cum so he continues lashing your clit, sucking and licking until his jaw hurts and when you cry out, he buries his tongue into your walls, wanting to feel them flutter.

It was even better than your first orgasm. The rush of heat flooding your cunt makes him moan and you whimper at the way that he is eager to taste all of you, his tongue dipping back inside you. Your thighs try to close around his head but they can’t at his mercy until you are crying out again and shoving weakly at his shoulder to move him away.

Oberyn doesn’t move away right away, he smacks his lips, kissing your clit and chuckling at the way you whine so he backs off, kneeling between your legs and wrapping his fingers around his aching cock. “My sun, are you certain that this is what you want?” He asks, wanting to make sure you want him to take your innocence.

“I have loved you since I was a child, Oberyn.” Your eyes greedily stare at him, drinking in how perfect he looks hard and wanting you. You are not scared of his length or size, knowing that he was going to fit perfectly inside you as he slowly strokes himself. “I am sure that I want nothing more than for you to take my innocence.”

Oberyn nods, certain that he wants you, he has wanted you since your eight and ten name day, knowing you were a woman had shone a new light on you and he has wanted you ever since. “Tell me if it hurts. It will hurt to begin with but we will go slow.” He promises, shifting closer until he can notch his cock at your entrance, slowly pushing into you.

Your soft cry is mixed with tears as he fills you, but they are ones of joy. Lashes fluttering as you feel the weight of him starting to settle over your body and his cock butting up against the thin barrier of your innocence. His lips press against yours before he pushes through the thin barrier of your innocence and hums at the way your body locks up around him.

Oberyn leans closer to kiss away your tears, his heart pounding in his chest as he looks at your beautiful face. “Are you okay, my sun?” He asks, not moving while you adjust to his cock inside of you. You’re so hot, so tight, so wet, it’s hard to maintain control but he will.

“Perfect.” It’s a struggle to keep your eyes open but you want to see him. Reaching up and caressing his sharp cheek while he holds still over you. Wanting to commit this to memory since it is the perfect moment. “Move, my prince.” You beg him softly. “I want to feel every inch of you.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He starts to move, his dark eyes focused on you in case there’s any pain but all he sees is love in your eyes. It makes his heart twist. He shifts, resting his weight on his elbows so he can bury his face in your neck, kissing along it and breathing you in.

Every push of his hips makes you moan, your arms winding around his neck and your legs coming up to rest on his hips. He feels amazing and you don’t have any of the discomfort that you had secretly worried about with a husband. Oberyn is perfect and the love you have makes it even better. “Oh Gods, Obeyrn.” You whimper. “It’s so- so good.”

Your whimper spurs him on to make you cum. His arms sliding under you to pull you closer and his hips rock into you, hitting the back of your thighs. “So beautiful. So perfect.” His voice is raspy and he is desperate for you to cum for him one more time.

It is everything that you want, loving how he is starting to move steadily. Closing your eyes and moaning as he fills you again and again with the heavy stroke of his cock. Pushing you towards exquisite pleasure every time he touches deep inside you. “Oberyn.” You whimper softly.

“That’s it, my love. Cum for me. Please. Cum for me.” He grunts, pushing into you and dropping his hips so the coarse hair at the base of his cock brushes against your clit. You cry out and he knows he got the right angle. “Cum for me. Soak my cock, my sun.” He orders, kissing your neck as his breath is heavy in your ear.

When you go over the edge, your cry fills his ear. Giving into his order and your body shakes underneath him while you go exactly what he orders you to do. Soaking his cock in a hot rush of cum that sounds loud when he pushes through the resistance of your fluttering walls.

“Fuck.” Oberyn curses at how you soak him, gripping his cock in a vice but he can’t stop himself. He should pull out but the thought of filling you up, putting his seed inside of you and potentially his child has him falling over the edge within a half dozen thrusts. “Fuck!” He growls, pushing his cock deep as he cums, groaning your name while he paints your walls.

You whimper in delight at the warmth of his seed inside you. You know it is risky but you don’t care, moaning softly and stroking his back lightly while he continues to rock his hips as he rides out his high. Relaxing back into the bed when he is done and you can’t help but give a slight giggle, completely worn out by your new lover. “Wow.”

Oberyn chuckles at your reaction, glad you enjoyed it. He certainly did. “I love you, my sun.” He murmurs, lifting his head to look into your eyes. It’s true, he adores you, always has, and he has loved you since you blossomed into a woman. He kisses you, slow and deeply, his tongue sliding against yours.

You lean into the kiss, enjoying the intimacy of it while he licks into your mouth. Your fingers tangle into the hair at the nap of his neck and you sigh happily, knowing that you have gotten your wish and you will cherish it forever. When he pulls back you smile up at him. “Thank you, Oberyn. I love you.”

Oberyn caresses your cheek. “Let’s move you over and you can get some rest. You must be exhausted, my love.” He brushes his thumb over your cheekbone, “I love you too. Sleep. When you awaken, we will feast on fruits and cheese, I’ll send for some more wine.” He tells you, brushing your hair back.

Having sex for the first time is surprisingly exhausting. Turning over and curling up against the pillow that Oberyn sleeps on has your eyes fluttering closed within minutes. It doesn’t hurt that he is stroking your hair and shoulder, relaxing you more than you thought it would as you drift off to sleep with a smile on your face.

Oberyn caresses you until you are asleep, then he carefully, so carefully, tugs on the sheet beneath you, easing it out from under you before he redresses. Striding down the hall, he has the sheet folded up when he enters his brother’s chambers. “Oberyn? What are you doing here?” Doran asks, a weary smile on his face for his younger brother. He loves him but he is exhausting.

“Let me marry her.” He says, chin pointed in defiance as he awaits his brother’s response.

Doran sighs and runs his hand down his face, looking over to the door as if he expects you to peek around the corner like you had when you were a child. Obviously you had run to Oberyn but he was surprised that his younger brother was entertaining your notion of love. “She will wed Ned Stark.” He tells his brother. “You will choose a wife now? After all this time?” Oberyn had always scoffed at the idea of marriage, unless he was ordered to by his brother and Doran loved him enough that he hadn’t had the heart.

Oberyn nods his head, “I will choose a wife. I choose her.” He declares.

Doran sighs, “you are going to send me to an early grave, dear brother. She is promised to Ned Stark.”

Oberyn chuckles, shaking his head. “A man as noble as Ned Stark would surely want his lady wife to be pure. To not provide him with a Dornish man’s bastard.”

Doran narrows his eyes, growing suspicious. “Oberyn…what did you do?” He hisses and Oberyn takes the sheet from behind his back, opening it to display the blood on the sheets.

“Your darling daughter’s innocence…displayed on my sheets.”

“Gods be cursed!” There is a book in Doran’s lap that is quickly hurled at Oberyn, who merely ducks it. If his mobility has not seriously deteriorated over the last year, he would challenge the boy who had been the baby of the family. “You ruined her! For what? Your pride? Another conquest? You could have all the whores in the Seven Kingdom and you chose to make my daughter - your niece - your next whore?” Doran shouts, apoplectic with rage. Oberyn is not a liar, if he said he took your innocence, then that is what is staining his sheet. “Did you fill her?”

Oberyn nods, “I did. You do not wish for Ned Stark to be saddled with my bastard, do you? It will not shine well on Dorne. Dear brother, she loves me. She wants to be mine.”

Doran shakes his head, “she doesn’t know what she wants! She is a child!” Doran growls.

“She is a woman. You have to accept that. She knows her own mind, her own heart. She loves me. I - I love her. Marry her to me. No one need know of her predicament. We can protect her. A royal wedding will please the people. Brother, she is ruined if you send her north. We are ruined.”

Doran shakes his head, dismayed and yet there is truth to his words. “You will hurt her.” He predicts sadly, sighing. “Your selfishness has ruined my daughter and our chance to align with the Starks.” He turns his head and stares out the window for a moment before his shoulders slump in defeat. What’s done is done. “You will marry her before your bastard is showing in her belly.” He decides finally in a tired voice.

****

“You may now kiss your bride.” The priest tells Oberyn who grins, surging forward to kiss you while you are covered by the Martell cloak. His fingers caress your cheeks and you smile against his lips, unable to believe he is your husband. The crowd erupts in applause, the wedding pulled together quickly to account for the babe in your belly. One time was all it took to get you pregnant…perhaps. Oberyn has indulged in his betrothed many times before today. Still, you are with child. His child. So it was best to have a swift wedding. “I love you.” He murmurs when he pulls back.

“I love you, husband.” You are beaming with pride as the two of you turn to face the people gathered. Your father’s eyes are less than pleased but he plasters a smile on his face for the sake of the occasion. “Now we have nothing to worry about.” You murmur softly, aware that the raven had been sent to Winterfell concerning your engagement to Oberyn. Rumor had it that Ned Stark had already secured another bride. Catelyn Tully would be a good match for him.

Oberyn grins, pleased at his new bride, and he guides you through the crowd to the private room reserved for you both during the celebrations. “My sun, you look gorgeous. Edible. A gift from the gods.” He leans forward to press his lips to yours, pushing the cloak off of your shoulders so he can grab your ass through your beautiful sun embroidered gown.

“Husband.” You moan, delighted at being able to use that title with Oberyn now. Since that night he had taken you to bed, you’ve discovered how much you enjoy touching him, fucking him. Learning how he likes to have his cock sucked and how he delights in having you act like the sexual creature you are and not hide your lust for him. “I need you inside me.” You whimper, reaching between you to cup his hardening cock beneath his robe. “Since there is no bedding ceremony, I want to dance with you dripping your seed.”

Oberyn hisses in delight at your words. So naughty and he knows he will want to lick it out of you later. Guiding you back towards the wall, he presses you against it and slides his hand under your gown, fingers quickly finding your clit. “Did getting married make you this wet, my sun? Did it turn you on becoming my wife?” He teases and kisses along your neck.

“Yes.” You pant, closing your eyes and moaning as he slides two fingers inside your wet cunt. “I am yours.” Those words were never more true than right now, reaching into his breeches and wrapping your fingers around to him slowly start pumping him just like he taught you. “Tonight- after other are asleep, I want to suck your cock while you are seated in the grand hall.” The wedding had been performed at Sunspear, the seat of power and Oberyn often acted in your father’s stead. You want to suck his cock while he sits on the Lord’s cushion and pleasure him.

“Naughty girl.” He teases and his cock twitches in your grip, “wanting to desecrate your father’s throne because you are so hungry for cock. I love it. I love you.” Oberyn growls, leaning closer to press his lips against yours. “Wanting to please your husband. It’s beautiful. I want to please you too but right now, I want to fuck you.” He withdraws his fingers, pulling your hand from his breeches and he pulls his cock out. Pressing you up against the wall even more, he gathers your gown and lifts your leg to notch on his hip. “Gonna make my bride cum.” He promises, pushing his cock into you with a low groan.”

Your head bumps back against the wall and you moan out his name. Your condition makes you eager and sensitive. “Oh fuck, Oberyn.” You whimper, looping your arms around his neck and grinding your pelvis down as he starts to move. “Fuck your wife,” you beg, loving how that sounds. “Please make me scream your name for all the guests to hear.”

The smirk on Oberyn’s face is wicked as he attempts to follow through on that challenge. “Yeah? My beautiful bride wants to cum so hard, she lets everyone out there know she’s no longer innocent? They will know tonight you’ve experienced a cock buried deep inside of you. They will know that I’ve spilled inside of you. Our babe shall be born early according to them but we will always know that my naughty wife wanted my cock before it was deemed appropriate.” He chuckles, kissing along your neck as his hips slam against yours.

You cry out, loving how wickedly he looks at things. It’s perfect, he’s perfect. Clinging to him while he drives into you over and over again. His mouth devours yours before he kisses along your throat and nips to make you gasp and clench around him. You know about the bastards he has, both girls. You can’t help but know about them since they live here. You love them as if they were your own. “Your next babe. Maybe a son.” You whimper when his cock pushes up against that sweet little spot inside you.

“My beautiful wife is going to provide me an heir? Fulfill her duty?” He hums. You know he hates the societal standards imposed but he is playful and you know he doesn’t care about a boy or a girl. He wants a healthy child. His fingers dig into your thigh, “a beautiful son. My beautiful wife gives me a son.” He muses with panting breaths. “I want my wife to cum. Squeal so loud they all know I am inside of you.”

It’s not hard to do, Oberyn is an amazing lover and you know you are lucky to have a man be concerned with your pleasure. “Obe-Oberyn!” You cry out as he cock continues to hammer against that spot over and over again until your toes are curling and you are squealing just like he ordered you to, your cum soaking his length and dripping down his thighs.

You squeezing his cunt has him groaning, kissing along your neck, and he thrusts a few more times before he buries his cock deep. Knowing you are his, his wife, the mother of his third child, has him cumming quickly. “Fuck.” He growls, painting your walls with his seed as he presses you further into the wall.

A few moments and lazy kisses later, Oberyn is pulling back, your leg lowering to the floor and your dress falling back into place. “Always so good.” You pant quietly, giving a small giggle of happiness as you catch sight of the beautiful gold ring he had put on your finger. The chain around your neck carries the symbol of the house Martell and declares you a princess. Which you had already been before, but now it is as a wife rather than an adoptive daughter.

****

“Push, princess!” The maester orders while your hand maids wipe your sweaty brow. The baby is coming, one more push and your baby is born. Yet Oberyn is nowhere to be found. No one has been able to alert him of the birth and the labors were quick despite this being your first. You scream as you bear down, feeling like you will pass out from the pressure and the pain but a cry fills the room and you chuckle in relief. The maester quickly inspects the babe. “You have a boy, princess.”

The women set about to help you deliver the afterbirth, the maester tying off the baby’s umbilical cord and cutting it before wrapping him in a soft cloth to hand him to you. “Is there any word of my husband?” You demand, looking down and immediately falling in love with his smooshed face and crown of dark hair.

“No, my princess.” The young servant who will look after the babe as a wet nurse if you wish it, shakes her head, looking down. “None knows where he is.”

You grunt, whimpering when the afterbirth passes and the women are still cleaning you as you start to move towards the edge of your birthing bed. “Dress me.” You demand, completely naked for the birth. “I will find him.”

“Princess. I- I wouldn’t recommend - you need to rest. Spend time with your baby.” Your hand maid tells you and you shake your head.

“I have performed my duty. I wish to show my prince.” You grunt defiantly and the handmaids reluctantly dress you, trying to clean off the blood as you stand on shaking legs.

“Princess. I do not recommend-” The maester tells you but you ignore him, sliding on your shoes as you shuffle down the hall.

It hurts, your stomach still cramping with the birth and every step feels like agony, your cunt swollen and sore from pushing out the Prince’s son. Blood runs down your legs but you ignore it. Your baby is in your arms and he squeaks and settles back down when you open your loose gown and offer him your breast. Having to stop in the middle of the hall to let him root around hungrily before he latches on. Your old rooms is your destination, having an idea that he might be there since you had been in the chamber you shared with your husband.

Oberyn groans as the man takes his cock into his mouth, the woman kissing along his chest and playfully nipping on his nipple. You’ve been distant lately, not wanting him due to your discomfort of carrying the baby inside of you and he has respected that, seeking his pleasure elsewhere. He’s been in this room for gods know how long, enjoying the man and woman he paid for. You are due any day so he is seeking his pleasures before he is a father for the third time. “Fuck.” Oberyn groans, head tilting back as the man takes him down his throat and the door is swung open.

Fury boils in your eyes when you see the man and woman naked in the bed with your husband. The man quickly pulls off Oberyn’s hard cock with a wet pop and the woman gasps at your appearance. Angry that he has not spoken to you about pleasure and needs, that he just decided to do this so selfishly, your heart breaks when you realize your husband missed the birth of his son, his heir, because of his cock.

You straighten your spine, bringing you to your full height and shoot all three of them a withering glare. “My su-“ You cut Oberyn off.

“You have a son, my Prince.” You manage with as much grace as you can possibly manage, sweat still rolling down your cheeks from where you left your birthing bed. “Congratulations.” With your announcement made, you turn to start shuffling back to the rooms you have been living in with your husband.

Oberyn’s eyes widen and he scrambles to get off of the bed, reaching for his robes to dress and the man and woman watch him in confusion. “Coins are on the side.” He points at the chest of drawers and rushes down the hall, catching up with you when you are still stumbling down the hallway. “You shouldn’t be walking. My sun, you should be resting in bed.” He tuts, looking down at the babe who is suckling at your breast.

“I should be resting in bed, but I had to track my husband down.” You hiss, furious with Oberyn and he reaches for you. You jerk your arm away from him, unwilling to let him touch you with the stink of sex on him. “The servants could not find you when my time had come but they should have just followed the smell of whores.”

“You- you said you were fine with my extramarital activities.” He huffs, walking alongside you.

“Yes but not when our son was being born.” You hiss and he shakes his head.

“No one came to find me. I would have been there, my love, you know I would have. I didn’t - I didn’t know.” He argues and you shake your head.

“No one could find you because you were in the whorehouses until you brought them back here. I know you know how to not be found. You should’ve checked in first.” You argue, hissing at the way your body aches.

“Please, forgive me. I - we have a son.” He coos, looking at the baby.

“I have a son.” You are angry, disappointed and for the first time since you have been married, tears slide down your cheeks. “Go back to your pleasure, Oberyn.” You tell him hollowly. “There is none to be found here.”

Oberyn stops walking, watching as you waddle back to your chambers, and his heart breaks. He knows you need to have time to process this and he will give it to you. He knows you need to be alone and despite his desire to see his son, he walks back to your old room, deciding to write to Doran and announce the birth of his son and heir.

****

“Daughter, you need to give yourself time-“

You shake your head, your baby sleeping in your arms as you look down at the sleeping child. It has been a week since you have given birth and you have not seen Oberyn once in that time. “I have decided.” You murmur quietly, unwilling to see the disapproval in your father’s eyes. “I wish to go be with Elia. I- I need time away.” You blink back tears and shake your head. “You were right, father. He has broken my heart and I - I need to leave. Please, please send me to my aunt.” She was technically your sister in law as well, but you are begging him as his daughter and not as Oberyn’s wife.

Doran sighs, hating to see the hurt in your eyes and he wishes he could take it away but you created this. He knew his brother would break you eventually, he’d warned you, and you paid him no mind. “Very well. Go. I shall arrange for your transport. Do you wish to bid your husband goodbye before you leave?” Doran asks, wanting you to remain here in Dorne and not allow you in the grasp of the Lannisters.

You shake your head, having already packed your trunks before you ever left Sunspear because you would have hired a ship yourself if your father had not approved. “There is no need.” You straighten your spine despite your heartbreak and try to give your father an unconcerned smile. “No doubt Oberyn has not missed my presence and will have no need for drawn out goodbyes.” You feel slightly guilty for not allowing Oberyn to be around your son, but he had chosen to spend time with others rather than you, and your son was too small to be apart from you.

****

Oberyn growls as he opens another door, unable to find you or his son. When an unsuspecting servant walks past, Oberyn grabs them. “Where the fuck are my wife and son?” He demands to know and the servant shakes at the fury in his eyes.

“They - they are gone, my prince.” He answers and Oberyn narrows his eyes.

“Where the fuck have they gone?” He demands to know.

“To - to King's Landing.” He answers and Oberyn slings him across the hall, making his way to Doran’s quarters.

“You let my wife and son go into that fucking lion’s den?” He growls as he enters, no announcement other than the door slamming against the wall.

Doran looks up from the book he has been reading and sighs as he closes it. “I allowed my daughter, the princess, to go and assist her aunt with her children.” He tells his brother flatly. “To let her heal from the heartbreak of your actions.” He frowns in disapproval, knowing that Oberyn had left you to give birth alone and he was not happy with his younger brother.

“Heartbreak? She hasn’t - she hasn’t allowed me to properly meet my son. She has locked me out because I did what she knew I did. It’s not fair, brother, and now you have let her run away and to be in that cesspool with the Lannisters. It’s bad enough that you let Elia go there. Now I have to worry about my wife and son. Fuck.” Oberyn slams his fist against the wall, furious at himself for allowing this to happen, at Doran for allowing this to happen.

“Your wife suffered her birthing pains alone while you were fucking!” Doran roars, the book in his hand aimed at his brother’s head as he launches it at him. “What if she had died? Alone and calling for you? By all the gods old and new, you should think of something other than your cock!” Doran shakes his head, angry that the bastard had ducked the book. “You will not follow her.” He orders the headstrong brother. “Elia will soothe her heart and send her back when she is ready to forgive the hurt you have done.”

Oberyn glares at Doran, knowing that the order will be enforced if he tries to leave plus he knows you need time. He will write you a letter and have it sent to King's Landing, hoping you will soften and return home sooner rather than later. He hates not having you here where he knows you are safe. He loves you, he truly does, and he knows he has needs, you know this, but he shouldn't have let them interfere with his duty to you. With a sigh, Oberyn nods and makes his way back to his quarters to write his letter.

****

Tears burn your eyes and your throat is thick with emotion, eyes skimming across the ornate scrawl that Oberyn produces when he puts quill to paper. “My sun, my heart is heavy without you in Dorne, the sun in the sky does not shy as brightly as it does with your presence by my side.” You close your eyes and shake your head slightly, not wishing to say something out of bitterness as Elia rocks your son in her arms, listening as you read your husband’s letter aloud. “I was foolish, irresponsibly so and I regret that it caused you the pain and heartache you suffer. I wish to make amends. To have your smile brighten the halls of Sunspear and your laughter to ring out through the Water Gardens again.” You sigh, and lift the paper back up with a trembling hand. “Come home, my Princess. You told me that you wished to be in Dorne and she misses you. I miss you, my love.” You look over at Elia in exasperation. “Am I wrong? Should I have stayed?” You ask, knowing that she and Oberyn had been the closest out of all of them and needing her guidance. She has been a Godsend since your arrival in King’s Landing, even with the current turmoil that echoes in the palace halls.

Elia sighs, looking down at your son who has the same features as his father. “You did what you thought was right for you at the time. If I am honest, I think you should return home. You are needed there and I am certain you wish for this one to be raised in Dorne and not this…this hell.” Elia has confided that she loathes the Red Keep. It’s like a prison and she longs for the warmth of the Dornish sun. “You need to go home, my darling, but selfishly? I wish for you to stay. I barely speak to anyone here. My husband is away…the king loses more of himself every day and I long to keep our children safe…even from him. I wish you could stay but my brother needs you.” Elia smiles sadly.

“Come with me.” You reach out and take her hand, squeezing gently. “Dorne will love to have their princess back for a visit. It will do you good to visit with your brothers.”

Elia shakes her head, “I have a duty to the people as their future queen. I cannot abandon them now. My darling, stay until the end of the week and then I shall arrange travel home for you. Besides, I still have to spoil my nephew rotten.” Elia grins, cooing down at the baby in her arms. “Write to Oberyn. Tell him you shall return home soon and give him hope. Absence makes the heart grow fonder so I am certain I shall have another nephew or niece to dote on by the time I visit Dorne once more.”

****

Screams awaken you in the middle of the night, jolting you from your sleep as you immediately reach for your son in his cradle. The sounds of clashing steel and fighting can be heard in the Bailey below your window and you panicked, throwing on your robe and bundling your son against your chest as you rush out the doors of your chamber to seek Elia. The news of the Baretheon rebellion has grown steadily dire and your ship is set to sail when the sun rises.

Servants scramble in the halls, pushing past you in their haste to flee the danger. Dread pools in your belly, hearing the screams grow louder as you race towards the chambers. They are here, the rebellion has reached the keep and they are coming for all who are in line for the iron throne.

Elia screams, her children clinging to her robes when you come into her chambers. “It’s only me. What’s happening?” You ask, terrified and the baby begins to cry in your arms. “Shhhh.” You coo, rocking him.

“It’s the rebellion. They have breached the Red Keep. My - my - the King will be killed. I have to protect the children. Get into the armoire. With the children.” She orders you and her children.

“Mama!” Her daughter cries but Elia cups her cheeks once you are all inside of the closet.

“It will be alright, my love. Let’s be quiet. We need to be quiet.” She tells her children, looking over at you now that you have gotten your son to settle against your breast. Your heart pounds and you pray to the gods that you will be spared, that Elia and her children will be spared.

You know the chances of Elia and the children being spared if they kill the king are low, that you need to flee in the chaos. “Elia, we need to run. We can make it to the ship. Have them sail now.” You plead with her, knowing it will kill Oberyn and your father if something happens to their beloved sister or her children. “There is a passage.” You know of the secret tunnels. “Let us leave now!”

“I cannot. They will find us in the halls. We are safer here. My darlings, it will be okay. Just let me - let me step out if anyone should come. I may be able to reason with-” The doors are slammed open to her chambers and you squeal, shaking as you wonder who has come in. Foe or friend. The armoire doors are swung open after several moments and you shriek when a mountain of a man grabs Elia by her arm, dragging her out of the wardrobe.

“Leave her alone!” You shout as you scramble out of the wardrobe and stand in front of Elia’s kids where they are huddled in the corner, clutching your son to your chest. “She is the crowned princess!” You are terrified, certain that all of you are going to die right here in these rooms. “Leave now!” You shout. “GUARDS!”

The Mountain shuts the doors and chuckles darkly, withdrawing his sword and you back your aunt and the children towards the window. “Get the fuck out of my way.” He growls, grabbing your arm and throwing you across the room. You grunt, curling your arms around your son, scared that he’s hurt and during that moment to assure yourself that your son is okay, the Mountain grabs Elia. You place your son in the armoire, safe as you rush back towards Elia, trying to protect her but the Mountain flings you across the room once more. “Please! Spare her! They haven’t done anything!” You plead and Elia screams for the guards once more.

You turn from your crumpled position on the ground to watch as Rhaenys, precious little Rhaenys, rushes towards the giant in armor, screaming and beating on his side. Too young to cause any harm to the man, but that doesn’t stop him from grabbing the little girl and lifting the toddler up high before flinging her against the wall. Making Elia scream and clutch Aegon to her chest. “No!” You scream, crawling towards the crumpled body of your niece, unmoving on the stone floor with her neck twisted at an off angle.

Elia cries out in anguish when you try to get Rhaenys to wake up but she’s gone, eyes open and glassy. The young boy - the future king - is clinging to Elia but the mountain grabs him, lifting him up by the neck and with a squeeze of his giant hand, he breaks the boy’s neck, making Elia scream in agony when the man flings the boy down beside his sister. You are shrieking, tears streaming down your cheeks as you look at the children and that’s when horror truly makes your blood run cold.

The Mountain grabs Elia and what happens next makes you vomit. He violates her, raping her while he chokes her, strangling her until she is still and you are frozen. When he is done, he grabs his sword and you retch in horror when he slices her open, her glassy eyes turned towards you. You are shaking, certain that you are next when the mountain wipes his sword on the bed sheets. “I- please. Please.” You choke, begging for your own life and the Mountain walks right past you.

“Return to Dorne, tell those fuckers what happened here. The Lannisters send their regards.”

The Red Keep has descended into complete chaos, screaming and steel clanging all around you. You bundle your son to your chest, hurrying as fast as you can. Bare feet slipping on the bloodied steps of the palace until you finally manage to escape from one of the side doors. Rushing towards the waterfront, towards the boat Elia had arranged for you to return to your husband. Your hands are bloody, the necklace she has been wearing in your hand and you are blinded by the tears as you sob in relief, seeing the swaying masts of the ship that will bear you back to Dorne.

****

The horse’s hooves attract the attention of the palace, the servants immediately approaching the messenger who swings off of his horse and rushes into the palace. When the doors open, Doran and Oberyn look up, both of them in the middle of discussing the harvest festival celebrations when the messenger approaches and hands the letter to Doran.

Oberyn impatiently awaits his brother’s rendition of the letter but the prince pales. “Doran? What is it?” Oberyn frowns and Doran hands him the letter with a shaky hand. Oberyn frowns, taking the letter and his body goes cold when he reads the news that his sister, niece and nephew have been murdered by order of the Lannisters. Robert Baratheon is now king. “She - she’s - oh gods.” Oberyn wants to be sick and his blood boils at the murder of his family. “What about my wife? And my son? Did - there’s no news of them. Is she - is he -? Doran.” He stumbles as he stands up, “I need - I need to go to King's Landing. I need to find them.”

Doran feels sick, his heart breaking at the loss of his sister and her two babies. He knows their deaths had to have been cruel. Otherwise, why would they have put a two year old and one year old to death? “No.”

Oberyn’s head snaps towards Doran and he grits his teeth furiously. “No?” He hisses. “My sister - her children are dead! My wife and son are there.”

Doran shakes his head, knowing that if his brother goes to King’s Landing, he will start another war. “We will wait until there is more news.” He tells his brother. “We will have our maester send a raven to the citadel.”

“I cannot. I will not fucking sit here while my sun…she’s your daughter. Are you not worried? I cannot - I cannot just fucking sit here. If the Lannisters wish for war, I shall single handedly bring it to them. They will pay!” Oberyn roars, anger masking his pain.

“Now is the time for cooler heads.” Oberyn’s temperament has always been one to rush into battle when he is feeling provoked but now is not the time. “We must not make a mistake. For Dorne. I love my daughter and wish she were here safe and sound, but she is not.” He does not mention that it is because of Oberyn that you are not where you belong. “Elia’s body along with the children are being shipped back to Dorne.” He swallows thickly. “Now is the time we mourn.”

“You don’t want revenge? They killed Elia. Her children. We should be sending the fucking Dornish army to their door now. The Lannisters have concocted this scheme. We must retaliate. Now. Brother, please. Do not let them get away with it.” Oberyn pleads, needing the anger to distract him from the pain of not knowing your status.

“We would be sending our army to their deaths without proof.” Doran rationalizes. “I am angry. I am sad.” He swallows harshly and shakes his head. “Still, it is my duty to do what is best for Dorne, not just the Martells.”

“Fuck your duty. Fuck Dorne. This is our family and you, as usual, don’t do anything to avenge us. Doran, you - you disappoint me once again. I shall have my own revenge.” Oberyn promises and growls as he makes his way through the halls, staff avoiding him as he shoves open the doors to your chambers, burying his face in your pillow as he allows himself to cry, to mourn, and to pray that you and his son are safe.

****

“My Princess, we will be docking at Sunspear within the hour.” The nervous deck hand waits for you to turn your head, to give some clue that you have heard him, but you just stare at the city as it grows closer every second that ticks by.

It has been a long week. One that you can recall every second of and none at all. A shadow of yourself as you cling to your son and try to banish the images of Elia and her children’s deaths from your mind. Still wearing your nightgown that you had been wearing when you fled the Red Keep, no women’s clothes on board and what little clothing they could spare was used for your son’s nappies.

The spires of the palace loom in the distance and you wonder if Oberyn will blame you for not saving Elia, or maybe he will blame you for not dying with her.

When the horn sounds that the boat is docking with Elia and the children’s remains, Oberyn makes his way to the dock, wanting to see the caskets and he has been pulling his hair out for a week, trying to find word of your status. Whether you were alive or dead. He has to know. When he sees you stumble down the ramp of the boat, his eyes widen. “My sun!” He shouts, running towards you and he wraps you in his arms, the baby between you as he holds you close.

“Oberyn.” You gasp when you feel his arms around you, wanting to close your eyes and melt into his safe embrace but you cannot. “She’s dead, Oberyn. Elia- the kids, they are dead!” You sob, breaking down for the first time since that horrible night. “I- I could not stop him!”

“It’s okay, my love. It’s okay. You’re safe. You are both safe.” He feels relieved despite the fact that his sister is dead. He has you. He hasn’t lost you. “You’re alive.” He chokes, tears stinging in his eyes and he pulls back so he can cup your cheeks, looking into your eyes. “It’s okay. You couldn’t - there’s nothing you could do. It’s okay. You’re home.”

“I was- the baby- he lifted her and threw her against the wall-“ you babble in a near panic. “She- oh gods Oberyn, her neck- she was gone and then the sweet little one- he-“ your voice cracks. “They were gone and then he raped her! He raped her on the bodies of her children!” You shriek. “I couldn’t stop him! I couldn’t- he- he raped her and then he killed her like she was nothing!”

“Ssshhh.” Oberyn coos, bringing you into his chest, “it’s not your fault. You couldn’t do anything, my love. Let’s calm down and let me take you inside the palace. You need to be in your home.” He murmurs, kissing your hair and he leans back to look down at the baby. “Gods. He has grown.” Oberyn leans down to kiss his son’s head. Fury beats in his chest, but that will not help you heal right now, looking like you are about to expire on your feet.

You don’t understand why he is not upset, why he is not furious with you. Your sobs give way to hiccups and you let Oberyn lead you away from the ship, the caskets containing the bodies of your family slowly being raised up from the hold to be transported to the castle. You step onto the hot sands of Dorne with your bare feet and you sigh softly, happy to feel it after what has happened.

Oberyn rubs your back as he guides you back into the palace, everyone looking at you since you are still wearing your nightdress. “Obbaron is safe. You are safe, my sun. The gods have answered my prayers.” Oberyn is relieved and he is sad but selfish, happy you are safe and home…finally.

In the palace, you are stripped out of your filthy and ragged nightgown and placed in a large, lovely bath. You refuse to let your son out of your sight, making the servant tut and disappear to tell on you to Oberyn. You can’t let him go right now.

Oberyn heard of your insistence that Obbaron be in your arms in the bath and he makes his way to your chambers after he asked for some food to be sent to you. “My sun, let me take him while you bathe.” Oberyn says as he walks in, eager to see the son he barely got a chance to hold before you left for Kings Landing.

You hesitate, almost refusing but you know that Obbaron will be safe in his father’s arms. The servants have all disappeared, leaving the bathing room and you nod after a moment, letting Oberyn come and take your son from your arms. “Be careful.” You choke out before you can stop yourself, even though you know it is foolish. Watching the children being struck down in front of you has affected you, making you tear up again as you step into the large pool of water. Your husband has seen you naked before, even if he did not wish to see you that way anymore - you would not hide yourself.

Oberyn watches you get into the bath and he can’t believe how beautiful you are. Even when wrecked with grief, you are still the most gorgeous woman he has even seen. He rocks the baby, looking down at his beautiful son and he leans down to kiss his forehead, thanking the gods that you are both okay.

You groan as you sink into the water, relieved to be able to clean yourself again after a week on ship. It’s selfish, wanting something like this when your poor aunt will never take another breath. Making you close your eyes so you don’t cry again before you pick up the cake of perfumed soap to start scrubbing every inch of your body, needing to feel clean again.

“I’ve missed you.” Oberyn confesses, knowing that now he needs to be completely honest. Life is too short. He needs you. “I love you. So much. I’ve missed you every single day since you’ve been gone.” He admits, “and our beautiful son.” He looks down at Obbaron.

You snort softly, not disbelieving him completely but finding it hard to believe that he had spent the last months pining for you. “I am sure you found comfort somewhere.” You murmur softly, relaxing into the bath. “I cannot believe for a moment that my husband was celibate while I was gone.”

Oberyn snorts, “alas my cock could not get hard for anyone other than you during your absence. Perhaps your departure forced me to reconsider what is important to me and I know now that I cannot live without you. You are - you are my world and I refuse to live in a world where you do not exist. I was - if you were dead…” He trails off, unable to put the thoughts into words. “I love you. It’s always been you and I need you. More than even I thought possible.”

“You fucking other people did not upset me.” You tell him, your voice level and sure. You have had a lot of time to think about why you were so furious and heartbroken when you discovered Oberyn in your old chambers with others. “If I had not been carrying Obbaron I might have joined in.”

Oberyn frowns, knowing you had discussed sharing your bed prior to your marriage, deciding to wait until after you had given birth. “You were upset that I chose to fuck over being by your side.” He states and you nod, knowing it seems foolish now. Most men do not come to their wife’s bedside during birth. “I do not wish to share a bed unless you are involved.” He tells you, knowing he made that decision as soon as the guilt hit him. He wants to be fully invested in this marriage and your pleasure is his pleasure.

You eye him in surprise, shocked that he would say that, but Oberyn seems sincere. Your heart melts slightly and you give a small nod. “I have missed you.” You confess. “Elia had- I was due to sail for Dorne just that next morning. To return to you.” It seems important that he knows you didn’t come home just because of the rebellion and his sister’s murder. You blink back tears and swallow heavily. “I wish I had been able to return like that. Simply because I wished to.”

Oberyn's heart aches, wishing that had been the case but it's not and his entire body yearns for vengeance. "Me too." He whispers, looking down at his son once more who has fallen asleep against his chest, exposed by the gapping in his robes. "My sun...I - I haven't slept. I haven't eaten. My worry that you - I didn't know if you were alive or dead. It was destroying me to not know and yet I lived in fear of knowing in case you -" He chokes, unable to speak the words.

You shuffle to the edge, reaching for Oberyn and stroking his arm as he holds your son. “We are here, safe with you, where we belong.” Your eyes slide down to your sleeping son and you give a soft smile. “He is comfortable with you already, he knows his father.”

Oberyn smiles sadly, “you both should’ve been here the entire time. Not just - not just now. He should know his father. I don’t blame you for leaving, my sun, but I want you to know I missed you every single day you were gone. I love you. And him. I don’t wish to lose you again.”

It’s what you want to hear, all you wanted although you don’t wish to hold Oberyn in a cage. “I love you, my prince. I am willing to share you, as long as no one else comes before me.”

"For now, I wish to have my wife. Tonight, I want you. To worship you and show you how much I love you. Tomorrow, we mourn my sister and her children. In time, I will have my revenge but tonight, I want to make love to my wife." He declares, his dark eyes focused on you.

Guilt settling over you, you look away, knowing you need to be honest with your husband. You couldn’t have known that he had decided to be celibate since you had boarded a ship for King’s Landing. “I must confess something to you.” You whisper. “I have had several in my bed while I was at the Red Keep. All women.” You assure him. “I did not want to risk carrying another man’s child while I am married to you, but I found pleasure in others.”

Oberyn’s cock twitches as he thinks of you in bed with other women. He can’t blame you for it. You are doing what he did but you had left, decided to leave him and go to Elia. He cannot be angry with you. “My sun, I do not blame you for seeking pleasure. I wouldn’t have minded watching.” He chuckles before his smile falls, his eyes meeting yours. “Would you have come home? If Elia…would you have come home?”

“I was already coming home to you.” You give him a bittersweet smile. “Elia told me that selfishly she wished me to stay but that her brother needed me more than she did. Her last days were- they were as peaceful as they could be.” You assure him. “We talked of Dorne and she was making plans to come home for a visit.” You bite your lip. “I wish I had convinced her to come with me. To just leave a few days earlier.”

Oberyn swallows harshly, “it wasn’t your fault my love. It was - the Lannisters. They will pay. I vow they will pay. Elia…gods bless her soul…she was stubborn like all Martell’s so I doubt you could’ve done anything to make her leave. Do not blame yourself.”

You relax, happy that Oberyn does not blame you. You look at the babe in his arms and you wish that things are different but they are not. The only thing you can do is move forward. “Lay the baby in the cradle.” You urge him, suddenly in need of your husband. “Join me in the bath. I need to feel you.”

Oberyn nods, shifting to stand up now the baby is asleep and he gently places him in the cradle across the room before he works on removing his robes and breeches. Once he is naked, he strides over to the bathtub and you shift forward to allow him to get in behind you. As soon as he is in, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you back into his chest, groaning at the feel of you in his arms. Finally.

You moan softly, leaning back against his chest and closing your eyes. It’s the first time in over a week that you truly feel safe. Relaxing against him and letting the silence fall between you. There is much more that needs to be said, but right now you just want your husband to hold you. “I love you.” You whisper softly, knowing that it would always be that way. It would always be Oberyn.

Oberyn caresses your arms, kissing your neck and he sighs, “I love you too,” into your skin. He breathes you in, relieved to have you in his arms again and he caresses every inch he can touch, just wanting to feel you and reassure himself that you are here.

You feel his hands start to roam over your body. Caressing and squeezing you, reassuring himself that you are in his arms. Turning your head, your lips graze his jaw, pressing kisses to his thin line of a beard that frames his face. “I want you.” You murmur softly, already feeling the first pangs of arousal.

“Are you sure?” He murmurs, not wanting to push you if you aren’t ready. You’ve experienced horrors that men at war see and he doesn’t want to push you. He has lost so much, he can’t lose you too. He needs you to fucking breathe. “My sun, tell me what you want.”

“I want to feel alive.” You whimper, grabbing his hands and bringing them up to your still nursing breasts. He doesn’t squeeze harshly, but you moan when his thumbs brush over your hard nipples. “I want to banish the images in my mind and replace them with my husband fucking me.”

Oberyn understands what you mean. Some of his whoring ways are the result of the horrific memories of the battlefield. Nights spent with lovers distract from the things he had seen. “Tell me if you want me to stop.” He orders but kisses along your neck, his fingers plucking your nipples and your responsive moan has his cock twitching against your back.

“Yessss.” You moan and tilt your head back so that you are leaning against his shoulder. “Touch me Oberyn.” You beg, eyes slipping closed as you let him play your body like an instrument.

Oberyn caresses your chest, his lips tracing your neck and shoulders until his hands dip lower. Caressing your stomach that carried his child and he secretly wishes to see you round again, do it properly this time. His fingers dip lower, playing with the curls above your cunt until he finally, finally, presses his finger to your clit.

Gasping, your legs thrash in the water as Oberyn starts to rub your clit. Pressing firmly and stroking you just like you need as you groan in his arms. This is what you need, to be surrounded by him, his scent in your nose as you kiss his pulse. Mindless to everything but the way he is making you feel. “Yes, Oberyn, yess.” You pant softly.

He groans, kissing along your neck as his cock hardens against your back, his fingers rubbing your clit and he wants you to cum just like this. “I love you. My sun. My wife. My love.” He coos, “cum for me.” He murmurs, breathing you in after being apart for so long.

It doesn’t take long, just a few more minutes of his magical fingers against your clit and you are crying out. Shuddering against him while he pushes you through pleasure until your chest is heaving and you are breathless. “Inside me.” You push his hand away and turn over, wanting to ride your husband in the bath. “Need you inside me.”

His hands immediately grip your hips, dragging you close so you are hovering over him and his lips immediately around your nipple, biting and sucking while he reaches down to position himself at your entrance. “Ride my cock. I want you to make yourself cum.” He orders, cupping your cheek while he kisses up your chest.

The only thing he is wearing is his chain with the family crest. Wrapping it up on your fist, you sink down onto his cock with a moan. All the fingers in the world will never feel as good as his cock. “Fuck, Oberyn.”

He watches you, dark eyes getting even darker as he watches you sink down onto his cock, your silk walls gripping him like no one else can. You’re gorgeous and his wife. “Fuck, my love. You always feel so good. Such a tight little cunt.” He coos, gripping your chin to make you look at him.

He is the only man you have let in your body and he knows it better than anyone. His cock spearing up into your deliciously and you clench around him at the lust in his eyes. “Your cunt.” You promise, grinding down onto him and swiveling your hips to make you moan. “Fill me up Oberyn.” You plead softly, looking into his dark eyes that are reflective in the child you made together. “I want to feel you for days.”

He growls, suddenly feeling desperate after he could’ve lost you from his own stupidity. His arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you against him, his cock thrusting up into you to make the water spill off the sides of the tub. “Should have never let you go. Should’ve worshiped you so you didn’t leave.” He murmurs against your mouth.

Whimpering, you turn into his kiss, sliding your tongue into his mouth and your hand curls around the back of his neck. Moaning every time he thrusts up into you, it becomes a symphony of mewls and panted breaths as he rocks his hips up frantically.

Your breath mingles with his and his hands are everywhere, sliding down to squeeze your ass, pulling you into him to help you rock on his cock as he thrusts up into you. “Gods, I love you.” He groans, his lips attached to your neck and he sucks to leave a bruise beneath the skin.

“I love you.” You pant, closing your eyes and tangling your fingers into his hair as you rock up and down on his length. Rolling your hips faster as need builds and you know that you’re going to cum soon. “Please- oh fuck, I’m so close.”

Oberyn immediately presses his fingers to your clit, rubbing it harshly while he leans closer to press his lips to yours. “Cum for me, my sun.” He orders against your mouth, his cock twitching inside of you as his own orgasm nears.

It’s so good, blinding pleasure crashes over you as you buck in his arms. Gasping and crying out when your walls clamp down around him as you soak his already wet cock with a torrent of your juices, barely able to rock on him as your thighs shake.

Oberyn’s fingers dig deep into your ass, working you on his cock while he seeks his own climax. Your walls flutter around his cock, gripping him, and he hisses when you lean forward to bite down on his jaw. “Cum.” You plead and it sends him over the edge. His cock buried deep as he thrusts up into you, painting your walls with his hot seed.

You whine at the heat flooding your womb, leaning in and kissing him gently. “I love you so much.” You promise, pressing your lips to his between words. “My prince, my husband.”

“My princess. My world.” He vows, pulling you close and you giggle at the water that splashed onto the floor. “Leave it. It will be dried.” He tells you and kisses your nose then your forehead. “I - I shall thank the gods you have returned to me.”

****

“You are lovely.” You look in the mirror at the beautiful woman that had been assigned to be your handmaid while you are going through your second pregnancy. “What is your name?” Her fingers are still where they are braiding your hair and her dark, kohl lined eyes look up to meet yours. You know her name, but you wish to talk candidly and to ask questions is the obvious choice to begin. To show interest.

“Ellaria, my princess.” The woman smiles, her expression is soft and you instantly feel attracted to her.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” You coo and Ellaria flusters. You take her hand and bring it to your lips, kissing her palm and she inhales sharply.

“Not as beautiful as you, my princess.” She responds breathlessly.

She is perfect for your bed. You haven’t missed the way that Oberyn’s gaze followed her when she was introduced and you find her most attractive. “Tell me Ellaria,” you turn and look her in the eyes. “How would you feel about joining Oberyn and I in our chambers tonight?” You ask, smirking slightly at the idea of surprising your husband.

Ellaria’s eyes widen but she smirks, after a moment. “I would be honored to join you and the prince, my princess.” She answers, her fingers caressing your neck and shoulders and you shiver in delight. She finishes your hairstyle and leans down to kiss your cheek. “I shall count the moments until I can be in your bed.” She murmurs and you turn your head to press your lips to hers, wanting to kiss her before tonight. You are impatient.

Her lips are soft, sweet as you reach up and cup her cheek. Deepening the kiss and sliding your tongue into Ellaria’s mouth, you push up to your feet so you can stand with her and hold onto her hips as she starts to kiss you back.

Ellaria caresses your back, her tongue sliding against yours when the doors open and Oberyn strides in. His eyebrows raise and he chuckles. “Looks like my princess is being well looked after.” He grins and slides up behind you, kissing your neck. “Have you asked her, my sun?” He murmurs in your ear, his hands gripping your waist.

You pout slightly that your plans have been ruined but you turn and press your lips to his when you break the kiss from Ellaria. “I had hoped to surprise you.” You huff slightly, nodding and turning back to the servant with a smile. “As you can tell, both the prince and I are eager for you to join us.”

Ellaria flusters, a smile on her face as she leans back to look at you and your husband. “Please let me pleasure you both. I want to please my prince and princess.”

Oberyn smirks, reaching out to cup her cheek, “let us pleasure the princess. She is carrying my child and I am certain that your tongue on her clit would help her relax.”

You moan at the idea and nod, biting your lip. “Why don’t you show Ellaria how wonderful your cock is while she devours my cunt?” You suggest. “I know you have not been able to fuck me as hard as you wish and I think our girl will enjoy screaming your name.”

Oberyn’s cock twitches at the thought. You’ve already discussed him fucking others and you have given your permission for him to cum inside the ones you like. Ellaria was included in that consent. “Strip my beautiful wife out of her robes before you follow suit and show me how beautiful the female form can be. I want to worship at the altar of two gorgeous cunts.” Oberyn coos as he begins to strip off his own clothes.

You give a small, excited giggle as Ellaria moans quietly and you let her guide you toward the large round bed. “He’s got a wonderful cock and his fingers are magical.” You promise her while she pulls at the thin ties of your robes to pull them off your rounded body.

Her hands are deft, quickly undressing you and her hands caress your bump for a moment before she begins to remove her own clothes. When she’s naked, you turn back towards your husband. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she? A true Dornish gem.” You coo, reaching out to cup her breast and Oberyn loves seeing you so free. “She’s perfect for us. Ellaria, lay my princess down and suck on her sore tits while I push my fingers inside of your cunt.”

It takes you a moment to get comfortable but soon you are on your back and Ellaria’s lips are pressed to your skin, kissing up your side before she wraps her lips around your nipple. “Oh!” Your back arches and you cry out in pleasure, your breasts so sensitive since your pregnancy. “Fuck, Oberyn, make her feel-feel good.” You order your husband as he kneels on the bed behind her.

Oberyn groans at the sight of Ellaria bent over as she sucks on your tits and that makes him eager to lean down and slide his tongue through her folds, making her moan out in delight around your breast. You caress her side, eyes closed as you enjoy her hot mouth and you can hear your husband’s tongue diving into her cunt.

The sounds of pleasure fill your chambers, licking and sucking accompanying muffled moans. Your fingers stroke Ellaria’s cheek and through her hair while she sucks in your breasts. “How does she taste?” You ask Oberyn, knowing that she must be delicious, kissing her had been wonderful. “My sun, she is tangy and sweet like your favorite Dornish wine.” Oberyn praises as he lifts his head to wink at you over her shoulder. “When you taste her, you will hate to pull away.”

You grin, “I can’t wait. My handmaid shall be spoiled by us. Her cunt will never be without pleasure.” You promise and Ellaria moans, kissing down your stomach, over your bump until she is between your thighs. Oberyn shifts to accommodate her and he kneels behind Ellaria, knowing she’s wet enough to take him so when her tongue slides through your folds, he pushes into her with a deep groan.

Her moan makes your entire core clench. Vibrating through you wonderfully and your fingers tangle in her hair, your eyes watching your husband’s face as she obviously clenches around him. He looks gorgeously wrecked and you don’t feel jealous, instead you are eager for him to rock into her. Ellaria’s tongue slides through your folds and flicks against your clit.

“How does her tongue feel, my love?” Oberyn asks, his hands gripping Ellaria’s waist as he rocks into her a little harder, sending her tongue deeper into your cunt. “Incredible.” You sigh, shifting to look down at Ellaria as her face is buried in your cunt and you look up to meet the eyes of your husband. “Fuck, you look gorgeous, my sun.”

The three of you work closer to orgasm together. Moaning when Oberyn thrusts into your handmaid and pushes her tongue deeper inside your cunt. You rock your hips up to meet her eager tongue and your hands cup your breasts, toying with your nipples.

Oberyn wants you to cum and Ellaria to cum before he does. Reaching over your handmaid, he presses his thumb to your clit while Ellaria’s tongue dives deep. “Cum for us, my sun.” He orders, his dark eyes meeting yours.

Your eyes slip closed and you cry out, your thighs pressing against Ellaria’s head while you come apart. Heedless to everything but your pleasure as she licks into you.

Ellaria works you through it, her head knocking against Oberyn’s hand until his thumb finds her clit, rubbing it to push her over the edge when his cock twitches inside of her, his orgasm nearing. “Cum for us, sweetness.” He coos, bending over to kiss her shoulder.

You can tell the second she starts to cum. Oberyn gently bites her shoulder and her entire body stiffens. Crying out loudly, it’s the sweetest sound you have heard mixed with Oberyn’s groan. He rocks into her faster, his hips slamming against her ass he fucks her through her high and chases his own. “Cum baby.” You order Oberyn. “Fill her up. I want to see your seed drip from her gorgeous cunt.”

Oberyn clenches his jaw, sweat beading on his brow as he rocks into Ellaria, her cunt dripping from her orgasm and it only takes a few thrusts before he is cumming, painting her walls with his seed. “Fuck.” He pants, eyes closed until he forces himself to look at you, see your expression as his cock pulses inside of your handmaid.

You smirk as you watch the two of them. Reaching out and caressing her cheek where her chin is resting on your hip. “Beautiful.” You coo softly, watching Oberyn as he watches you. “How was your first experience with the Prince?” You ask her curiously.

“Exquisite, my princess.” Ellaria declares breathlessly.

“Good. I would like you to share our bed. I will require pleasure in the lead up to birth and my husband shall require a beautiful cunt to lose himself in. Would you be interested in being that woman?” Oberyn smirks at your question, pleased to see how you own your pleasure now without embarrassment or hesitancy.

Ellaria’s eyes widen and she twists, looking back and forth between you and Oberyn, who just pulled out of her cunt and moves to settle down beside you and strokes your stomach. He arches an eyebrow at her with a smirk and she flusters. She had been days away from seeking out the brothels to work before she had been brought to the palace to be your handmaid. Now she was being presented with something beyond her wildest dreams. “I do not know what to say.” She admits quietly and you don’t want to push her, but you want her to say yes. “It is thrilling to know that you would want me that way, but if you should grow bored?” She doesn’t want to be on the streets again, worrying about what food will fill her belly.

“If that day ever comes, you would still have a place in our household.” You look over at Oberyn who nods seriously.

Ellaria bites her lip, looking at you and the prince, and it’s easy to make her decision. “Very well. I would be honored to be in your bed every night. Whatever you wish of me, it is yours.” Ellaria promises and you shake your head.

“Only what you wish, too. We will not force you to do something you do not wish to do. We are all about pleasure, aren’t we my love?” You coo at Oberyn, caressing his chest and he nods.

“Very much so. I only want pleasure. No pain.” He murmurs, his eyes meeting yours and he swears he falls for you again, unable to believe this strong woman is his wife. It’s incredible to watch after knowing you as a shy young woman.

You smile at Oberyn, unable to resist kissing him again before you reach for Ellaria. “Only pleasure. And you will be treated with respect.” You promise her, unwilling to tolerate anything else. “The prince will simply have a princess and a paramour who he can have together without there being any harsh words.”

Ellaria nods, grinning as she cannot believe how lucky she is to be able to share a bed with the prince and princess. Her birth into poverty has not held her back and she is determined to ensure she remains by your side for a long time, pleasuring you and serving you as your handmaid. “Let us wash up and we shall get some food. I want some berries then I want to fuck my wife while she makes her beautiful handmaid cum with her tongue.” Oberyn smirks, eager to fuck again.

****

“You look exquisite, my love.” You coo, reaching up and caressing Ellaria’s cheek before you adjust one of her braids. “Perfectly matched and stunning.” The deep plunging V of her dress is shocking for the women of the North, but it matches the low neckline and high slits in the skirts of your own dress. Both of you dressed to accompany Oberyn to the wedding of Joffrey.

“You are anxious, my love.” Ellaria coos, walking over to Oberyn whose back is tense as he looks out of the window to the streets of Flea Bottom. “I hate being here. With those bastards that killed my darling sister. I yearn for blood.” He growls, tensing when Ellaria’s hand touches his back.

You had refused to stay in the Red Keep, not wanting to return to the very rooms that Elia had been killed in before your eyes. Despite the years that have passed, you feel as strongly as Oberyn. You join the two of them and lean over to kiss your husband's cheek on the other side of him so that both of you flank him. “They will pay. The Lannisters may have dealt us a blow, but we will make sure their house is ground to dust and forgotten.”

Oberyn clenches his jaw, nodding in response and he hisses when he imagines getting his revenge finally. It’s been years since Elia was killed but he’s desperate for vengeance. “The Lannisters…I will kill every last one of them.” He vows and turns his head to press his lips to yours. He grabs Ellaria, dragging her closer so she can press her lips to yours too, the three of you entangled.

You moan into the kiss, your hand on your lover’s hip. Both of you will need to keep Oberyn calm and keep him from acting rashly. He was hot headed sometimes but with both of you by his side, he can be reasoned with. Together, all three of you will raze the house of golden lions to the ground.

****

The wedding was boring like all royal weddings, lengthy and tedious but when you attend the reception, Oberyn is eager to sip the wine and feast on the berries Ellaria is feeding him. You can feel eyes on you, so many are unused to seeing a prince and princess with a paramour in King's Landing where lovers remain banished to the shadows. “Lover, shall we take a stroll?” You ask Ellaria, wanting Oberyn to have a moment with the young knight who is eying him from across the way. Perhaps tonight, another shall join you in your chambers.

Smirking, you nod and lean over to press your lips to Oberyn’s lips before you stand. Moving over beside Ellaria, you link your arm through hers happily and pick up your goblet to carry with you. You had specially asked for watered down wine discreetly, not wanting Oberyn to worry about your secret for now. “Let us go make scandalous conversation with the noble ladies here.” You tease with a joyous smirk. They would not dare insult you to your face as the princess of Dorne.

Ellaria grins, happy to be beside you and support you during this time of torment, the dreaded capital, and the Lannisters. “I didn’t know the Dornish were so accommodating to their whores.” Cersei approaches and you stiffen your back, staring at the queen.

“I didn’t know the Lannisters were so accommodating to murderers.” You counter, glancing over at the Mountain who is striding past, watching over the king.

“My princess. Come, let us walk. You do not need the stress.” Ellaria says, caressing your arm and you glare at the queen before Oberyn joins you, wrapping his arm around your waist, his own jaw clenched. “Cersei. The queen mother as you are now.” He quips, narrowing his eyes when Tywin approaches behind his daughter.

Cersei’s eyes narrow back at Oberyn before she plasters a fake smile on her face. “Tell me,” she hums, turning towards you, “how do you stand the whispers as you walk around merrily with your husband’s whore. She’s birthed four? It’s it four? Bastards?”

Oberyn narrows his eyes before he chuckles, looking up at Tywin. “I suppose four bastards are better than keeping it in the family, isn’t that right, Lord Tywin?” He quips, making Cersei’s smile drop.

Tywin is cool as he responds, “you should know all about that, marrying your niece after all.” Oberyn’s hand twitches with the urge to stab the older man but your grip on his other arm has him pausing.

You give Tywin a smile that tinges on acidic. “While I might have been the Prince’s niece by marriage, at least we can be sure that there is no common blood.” You tsk and shake your head before you glance at his daughter. “It is a wonder that the King and all the Baratheon children inherited the golden locks of the Lannisters. Almost as if dear Robert’s seed was impotent.”

Cersei hisses through her teeth and the urge to slap you is great but people are watching so she maintains her composure. "Lannisters just have stronger characteristics." She counters, "but my late husband adored the golden locks of our children." She declares expertly and Oberyn scoffs.

"Perhaps those characteristics are best left in this generation. Your son has chosen a bride with whom he shares no blood relation...a blessing for the kingdoms." Oberyn stabs, making Tywin clench his jaw.

“Indeed.” You smirk as you lift your cup to your lips, nodding at the queen mother as you take a small sip. Grimacing slightly at the bitterness of the wine. “Pity that the king's wedding did not merit casks of good wine to be opened.” You cough, shaking your head slightly.

Ellaria frowns, watching you cough more and Oberyn grows concerned when you start to wheeze. "What - what is happening?" He cries, "my love. Breathe!" He orders, slapping you on the back but you continue to choke, your face contorted. "Maester. Someone get a maester. She - she is with child!" Oberyn shouts, growing more panicked by the second.

Clawing at your throat, you hear the panic and commotion around you, the cruel ring of Joffrey’s laugh as you struggle to breathe. “Dornish bitches cannot handle good wine.” He scoffs, black dots appearing in your vision as you vaguely watch as he swipes his own goblet up and takes a large gulp, as if to prove he is superior.

Oberyn catches you as you collapse, his heart pounding and he tries to tell you to breathe. He begs you to breathe but you rasp and soon enough, you go still. Oberyn shakes you, “please my love. Wake up. Breathe.” He pleads as your glassy eyes stare at him, blood dripping from your mouth and his following roar of anguish can be heard across to Flea Bottom.

Joffrey starts to sputter and choke, drawing attention away from your prone form. Grasping his throat and turning purple as he tries to breathe. Making the smirk on Cersei’s face fall as she screams, rushing from her spot standing over you to where the king has collapsed.

Oberyn doesn't give a fuck that the king is suffering the same fate. His body cradles yours as he wails in agony of losing you. You are the sun in his sky, the air he breathes. He chokes, "please, my sun, come back to me." He begs and Ellaria is kneeling beside him, cupping your cheek as she begs you to wake up too.

****

“Please, my love.” Ellaria reaches for Oberyn’s arm, trying to gently coax him away from your body. “The maester needs to close the casket so it can be loaded up onto the ship.” Her red-rimmed eyes speaks of her anguish and heartbreak as she looks down at your still form. “She wants to go home, to be buried in the sands of Dorne.”

Oberyn can’t tear himself away from you. The grief weighs him down every single step he takes. His vengeance threatens to overwhelm him but he knows he cannot risk Ellaria. He has already lost so much. He has to return home and then form a plan for his revenge. Perhaps he can meet the Targaryen he has heard whispers about, assist her with her fight for the Iron Throne. “I love you, my sun.” He whispers, leaning down to kiss your lips before he allows the maester to close the casket. “What shall we do without her, Ellaria? She is - was my entire sun. Now my days are dark.”

“We will go back and hug your babies.” Ellaria whispers softly. She knows that Oberyn loves her, just like you had loved her, but there was a special bond between you and the prince. “And plot our vengeance.”

“The baby.” Oberyn chokes, “she was - she was with child again.” He swallows harshly, barely processing how much he has lost. The love of his life and a child. His other children, twelve in total, are safe in Dorne but he mourns his loss. “I - I am not sure I can live without her. How are you- you appear to be stronger than me.”

Ellaria shakes her head. “No, I am weeping on the inside but I know she would want me to be strong for you.” She murmurs, staring at the casket as the Dornish soldiers had traveled here with you, start to carry your casket to the ship. “She had not announced she was pregnant yet, how did you know?”

Oberyn smiles wistfully, “I know her. Her breasts were sore and she came quicker than normal. She couldn’t hide it from me. I knew she was with child.” He chokes, tears in his eyes as he looks at his lover, your lover. “Let us get on this ship before I do something stupid like rush into the Red Keep and slay every Lannister I see.”

Ellaria wraps her arm around Oberyn’s waist and the two of them lead a mournful procession of Dornish soldiers as they trail behind the cart loaded down with your body.

Once they are on board, the casket is laid in place and Oberyn walks over to run his fingers along the wood. He will ensure you have a proper casket when you return to Dorne. He leans down to press a kiss where your face would be when he hears the pounding. “Gods.” He frowns, “Ellaria. Come here. Do you - can you hear that?” He asks, wondering if it’s his imagination

Sobbing, you beat against the box you are in. This was not supposed to have happened. Waking up in darkness with little room to move, you had cried out until your sore voice had given way. Certain that you are in hell and that the gods are punishing you as you continue to try to get someone’s attention. The noise of the cart and horses, the docks and the men are loud, muffling your cries for help. “I’m alive!” You scream, your voice cracking. “Open it! I’m alive in here!”

Ellaria’s eyes widen. “She’s awake! My prince, she’s awake!”

Oberyn’s eyes widen back and he waves over the guards. “Open this fucking casket now! Now!” He demands and the men rush over. They all work to pry open the box and when the lid is removed, Oberyn inhales sharply when he sees your beautiful eyes meeting his, wincing from the light. “Oh my sun. You’re alive.” Oberyn reaches out to grab you, lifting you out of the casket and into his arms, his lips kissing you all over as he sobs in relief that you are alive.

You gasp in the sweet fresh air of the docks, salty and clean. Squinting your eyes against the harsh sunlight, you feel Oberyn’s arms around you and his prayerful kisses in relief. It hadn’t been supposed to happen this way and it chills you to think that you could have been locked in that box until there was no air. You couldn’t warn Oberyn, not if it had to be believable. “It worked.” You hadn’t expected to be out for as long as you were, but you hadn’t died and that was all that mattered.

“You - you were dead. Poisoned. I- fuck- we thought we had lost you.” Ellaria comes to kneel down, wrapping her arms around you and Oberyn, her own tears wetting your gown. “You’re alive. My princess. We thought -” She chokes and Oberyn kisses your forehead. “We thought you were dead. I’m so sorry, my love. We shouldn’t - the Maester declared that you were dead.”

You reach up and caress Oberyn’s face, turning to kiss Ellaria gently. “It is okay, my loves. You did not know.” You assure them, turning and kissing Oberyn fiercely. “Tell me that it worked.” You can see his brow knit together in confusion. Looking around and lowering your voice, you whisper, “tell me a Lannister is dead. Their cups were poisoned.”

Oberyn frowns, wondering what you mean until he remembers the death of Joffrey. “My love. Joffrey…he’s dead.” He declares, “he’s dead and he - you - you took the same wine to poison it? What if - it could’ve killed you. I thought it did.” He chokes, pressing his forehead against yours. “Why did you do that?” He demands to know, not wanting to believe that you did something so stupid yet so genius.

“To avenge my dear Elia, to repay them for the anguish that they have brought to our family.” You give a small giggle, pleased that you had taken out the king - the one that would hurt their egos and house the most. “Forgive me for not telling you.” You beg, looking from Oberyn to Ellaria. “I knew you would not let me go through with it if you knew. My plan was to drink only a little and get sick so there were no doubts cast on our house. I have been exposing myself to the poison over the last few weeks to build up a tolerance.”

Oberyn pulls you even closer, “you silly woman. What - the baby - you aren’t - you aren’t with child?” He asks, confusion on his face as he wonders why you’ve been so off lately. You’ve been a genius, seeking revenge in a way that no one would know but he prays you are okay after the maester inspects you.

You shake your head gently and reach out to cup his cheek. “I would never put your child in danger.” You promise him. “My symptoms were because of the poison and the antidote I was using.” You explain. “I am sorry I worried you. I was hoping more of those bastards would drink. But at least we can know we took her son from her and her daughter prefers living in Dorne.”

Oberyn kisses your forehead, relieved that you are okay. “Do not fret, my love. We will ensure you are with child soon enough.” He chuckles, “I am just relieved you are well. I could not live without my sun. Gods…I adore you.” He vows, cupping your cheeks as he presses his lips to yours, sweet and chaste in a reminder that you are okay.

You smile, reaching out to cup your husband’s cheek and you reach out to take Ellaria’s hand with your free one. “I love you.” You murmur to them both. “They have learned that Lannisters are not the only ones who pay their debts.”

Oberyn kisses your forehead. “No, the Martells get their revenge.” He responds, unable to believe he’s married to such a formidable woman. He could never live without you, ever. You are everything to him. You always have been. You are the light of his life. His sun.

#pedro pascal #oberyn fucking martell #oberyn martell x f!reader #oberyn martell x you #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell smut #oberyn martell fanfiction #oberyn martell x reader x ellaria sand #oberyn martell imagine #prince oberyn #dead dove do not eat #dddne #dead dove fic

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redahlia-writes · 11 months

Text

sweet one. | oberyn martell x reader x ellaria sand

sequel to little prince

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

Words: 6.2k

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

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

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

also on AO3 - masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was nearly impossible to resist her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Made for us.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#redahlia #little prince #little prince / sweet one #oberyn x reader #oberyn x you #oberyn x reader x ellaria #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x you #oberyn martell x ellaria sand #oberyn martell x reader x ellaria sand #ellaria x reader #ellaria x you #oberyn x ellaria #ellaria sand x reader #ellaria sand x you

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mrsbrekkers · 1 year

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𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐒

🕊.⋆｡ what is this? me posting? that's c r a z y. long story short, my ibf convinced me to finish the first ever smut i started last year and left. now i have finished it!

with this though, my blog is now 18+! if you are under said age, please either escort yourself stage left, or don't comment about it. i cannot control your internet intake, but that doesn't mean i should know about it!

also, be nice about this because it is my first smut so ya. i am pretty proud though!

anywho!

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ; oberyn martell x ellaria sand x you [ no use of y/n ] 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ; smut! light choking + degradation. fingering f!receiving. uses of pet names [ dove, sweetling, lover ]. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ; 1364 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ; a beautiful sunset seems to be the perfect time for a warm bath, and maybe some fun with your dornish paramours :)

SMUT UNDER CUT!

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Soft, dimming rays of the setting sun laid against the warm yellow curtains, a cool breeze brushing through the otherwise still air. A sense of quiet had enveloped the oncoming night, and you stood, enjoying the dornish sunset. Many claimed the sunsets in Dorne were among the most beautiful one could witness, and while you’d never believed it before; you certainly did now. The colors blended into a beautifully painted picture, almost amplifying the colors of the gardens below your balcony. A soft voice came from behind you, a handmaiden parting the curtains. “Your bath has been drawn, my lady.”

“Thank you, Sanira. If you could so kindly summon the prince and his paramour. Then you can retire for the night,” you said kindly, watching as Sanira turned and scurried to find who you’d requested.

Moving through the parted curtains, your fingertips followed the moving curtains, pulling them closed once more. Your soft steps followed to the bed, covered in red and the warmest of yellows, contrasting each other in an exquisite manner. Quietly, you sat, wine cup in hand as you thought of the night ahead of you. Memories leading up to tonight were vivid in your memory, demanding they be seen.

A knock came at the door, followed by the sound of quiet footsteps, but you knew those footsteps anywhere. “Oberyn, Ellaria,” you spoke smoothly, looking up at the two.

“Little dove,” Ellaria spoke first, her voice velvety as she took your free hand, pulling you lightly up to your feet. Her lips were against the skin of your ear in seconds, her fingers dancing around your waist, gently pulling apart the strings of your dress.

“Mhm?” You softly hummed, your eyes gliding over to Oberyn, who had been uncharacteristically quiet since entering the room. His fingers, though, slid the sleeves of your dress down your arms, his hands like silk against your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“We’ve been waiting for your summonings all night,” Oberyn spoke, watching the dress pool against the marble floors of the room. There was his voice, pulling you in effortlessly. You craved them both, but you knew that their hands wouldn’t travel any lower until you were seated in the steaming water of your bath.

Retracting from the both of them, your feet carried you over to the bath. The steam had surrounded the room despite the curtains allowing in the cool air of the night. It made it almost hard to breathe, and the sight of the two moments prior already caused most of the air to leave your throat.

Your eyes landed on two hands that extended, taking hold of them and stepping into the searing water. Lightly, your eyes fluttered, a hushed moan of satisfaction leaving your lips. “Dove, we haven’t even begun,” Oberyn teased, his fingers coming down to tilt your head up towards him.

“Don’t tease,” You attempted to speak, but the words came out almost incomprehensible as you descended fully into the water. The aches in your body screamed at you in delight, causing yet another slurred moan to leave your lips unwillingly.

“She’s had a long day, lover, let us only pleasure her,” a more feminine voice called to Oberyn, Ellaria now sitting in front of the tub, her fingers tracing small patterns on your skin. Your head lolled onto Ellaria’s shoulder, basking in her scent of marigolds and lilies. Tantalizing fingers then danced down your body, disappearing under the warm water.

Being unable to see Ellaria’s fingers only enhanced the feeling of them as they glided down your stomach and thighs before they finally made contact with your core, a sharp gasp falling from your lips. You’d been with the two dozens of times, but this time felt different. More intimate, and that feeling was only enhanced as Oberyn’s hand made contact with your throat, his lips meeting your own in a slow kiss.

With Oberyn’s lips on yours, you were unable to verbally react as Ellaria reached your clit, her thumb carefully beginning to work it. She knew how delicate of a process this was. How important it was to build pleasure, and oh was she an expert at it. Her thumb circled your clit, the feeling causing your pace in the kiss you shared with Oberyn to stutter. Still, you managed for the time being, enjoying the gentle pleasure that coursed through your body.

“Look at her, Oberyn,” Ellaria whispered, pulling Oberyn from your lips, his hand still resting against your throat. A silent, but intimate reminder. You felt vulnerable under his gaze, but were unable to think much of it when Ellaria pressed a finger into you, causing your back to arch slightly and a surprised moan to sound through the room, this one being much louder than your previous ones.

You couldn’t pay much mind to what Oberyn responded with, only briefly being able to make out the word ‘heavenly’ as Ellaria’s thumb began to circle your clit faster with some added pressure. You began to think maybe having the bath drawn wasn’t such a brilliant idea, because your thighs had already started to shake. “Ellaria-” your words failed you, the pleasure that coursed through you building slowly, but surely, making a promise of a deliciously warm end.

“Go on, our sweet dove, tell us what you need,” Oberyn’s voice broke through your foggy mind, his own fingers giving a gentle, barely there squeeze to your throat. The euphoric sensation that made its way through your senses caused your eyes to flutter shut. Ellaria thought this the perfect moment to add another finger, both of them curling inside you to press against that spot inside of you. The moment she did, you clenched around her fingers and managed to speak, “That! Ellaria, please…” and what was Ellaria to do other than repeat the same motion with her fingers when you sounded so pretty. Though after her repeated motion, she began to slide her fingers in and out of you, yet another moan being pulled from you.

“So needy and desperate when her fingers are inside of you,” Oberyn teased, your cheeks tinting with a rosy blush. You didn’t try to deny his words though, knowing they were all too true. Ellaria seemed to know exactly what made you tick. What would wind you up so efficiently. It didn’t help that she was dangerously good with her fingers. By now, you’d lost count of the number of times they’d been inside of you, but you did know without fail, they’d bring you to climax. Now was no exception as her thumb pressed just slightly more into your clit, the pressure and build to it perfect. Your mouth hung open, your breathing hitching, and that reaction was all Ellaria needed to know you were close. The way you were clenching her fingers was sign enough, but your expressions were what she desired to see most.

She took those moments to speed the pace of her fingers up, catching you off guard. You tossed your head to the side, eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure that’d been building seemed to sneak up on you. You could’ve sworn her fingers had just begun working you, and now you were on the verge of cumming hard around them.

“Ellaria-”

“We know, sweetling. Cum around my fingers, wanna feel you,” her voice was like silk, guiding you into your orgasm so calmly, and yet, so firmly. With one more curl of her fingers, you came undone around her fingers, a cry of her name being interrupted by the way Oberyn expertly timed yet another squeeze around your throat. The pleasure that seared through your body increased ten fold, stars erupting behind your eyes as your walls clenched Ellaria’s fingers so tightly she could’ve sworn you were trying to suck her in with them.

Your orgasm seemed to go on for hours, but in truth, it’d only been maybe half a minute. Your head slumped against Ellaria’s shoulder, a soft whimper leaving your lips as she gently removed her fingers and let your thighs clench together. Your eyes grew heavy, but a soft kiss to your lips reminded you that Oberyn was still there too.

“Ah, dove, you didn’t think we we’re quite finished with you yet, did you?” t <3

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lowlights · 1 year

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Sweet Reds and Starlight Mornings

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

Length: 3.3k

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

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

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

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

But not alone. Never alone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you miss me, my Oberyn?”

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded, breathing a sigh of relief.

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

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

“Again.”

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

“Swallow. Good girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell me something,” you began.

“Yes, my starlight?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“By all means, make me your stallion.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You thought that they might love you back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We made a mess,” he countered.

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

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

Your ears perked up. “Bath?”

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

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

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

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

#Oberyn Martell #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x ellaria sand #oberyn x ellaria x you #game of thrones fanfiction #oberyn has my whole heart ok #we don't believe in ellaria erasure here #happy birthday kaylie!!!!

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 9 months

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Wrap Around Pt.1

Pairing(s): Oberyn Martell x Martell!Reader, Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand

Warnings: siblingxsibling implied, longing

Words: 2033

Summary: Oberyn was beside himself at the return of his baby sister (y/n). For a year she had been off in Essos, experiencing the rest of the world outside of the safety of Sunspear. Now she was returning to Dorne. Returning to Oberyn.

PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO ANY OF THE WARNINGS/TAGS

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

“Her ship still isn’t here yet?” Irritated, Oberyn makes the servant squirm uncomfortably under his scrutinizing gaze. Normally Oberyn was quick to please and in a jolly mood. There was none of that.

“No, your Grace. Her ship seems to be lagging.” He awkwardly informs the Prince of Dorne.

Near the archway of his chambers, Ellaria was lounging on a long, cushioned bench. She watches as the poor boy flees once given permission by Oberyn. “Calm down, my love. The ship will get here when it gets here. You yelling at squires won’t make it sail any faster.”

His brow was tense on his handsome face. “I haven’t seen my baby sister in a year. I need to see her face. It’s been far too long.”

Ellaria coles and rises, her robes flowing after her as she glides over to Oberyn. Hands smooth out Oberyn’s knotted shoulders. (y/n)’s initial departure had been hard enough on Oberyn. For days after Ellaria stayed by his side as he longed for his sister. Now that she was returning, he was once more growing impatient on her arrival.

She kisses the length of his neck, feeling his form relax under her touch. “You know how arduous traveling by sea is. The wait will be worth it once you see her.”

Closing his eyes, Oberyn sighs and allows Ellaria to lead him to a chair. Dutifully pouring him a goblet of rich Dornish red. Dark as blood but oh so sweet on the tongue.

He should have never let (y/n) leave for Essos. She claimed that she wanted to see more of the world and since she was not allowed to go to Westeros on her own (Oberyn had already lost one sister there, he wasn’t going to lose another), her brothers relented. Giving her a ship to Essos was safer than having her travel in Westeros where Lannisters and Tyrells could easily prey upon her. For so long after Elia’s death, Oberyn kept her safe in Dorne. No one would dare to take his young sister from their own home. (y/n) wanted to spread her wings though. Too headstrong to be tethered down. She was not delicate like Doran and Elia had been. There was venom in her, a will that couldn’t be broken, nor did Oberyn ever want to. He loved (y/n), faults and all of her fire.

“If she comes back with a boy, you must promise not to hurt him.” Ellaria suddenly muses while petting his dark head.

The thought hadn’t even occurred to Oberyn before. (y/n) was of perfect marrying age and much like himself had a healthy carnal appetite. What if she had decided to bring someone home? Perhaps when she visited Trystane in Norvos where his mother lived their nephew might have introduced her to someone. A beautiful foreigner that peaked her interests enough for her to want to bring them home. It made Oberyn’s stomach drop.

“Then the boy must be ready to prove himself. No man is worthy of my sister if they are not prepared to fight me.”

Ellaria knew that there was more to it. Expert hands fann on his broad shoulders and begin to knead them. “Even here, feelings like that are looked down upon.” They never spoke about it. Hardly brought it up because of the sadness that followed. Incest was rife in Westeros, but never in Dorne. Have a lover, even two if you like, but it could never be a sibling. That was the one taboo everyone agreed upon. It was viewed as unnatural, even damnable. And perhaps another reason why Doran was willing to give (y/n) her own ship to travel for months at a time. He saw what Ellaria did: a brother who loved his sister too much for comfort.

Not saying anything, Oberyn gingerly grabs one of Ellaria’s hands and pulls it down so that he could kiss her smooth knuckles. “I just want to see her.”

Off in the distance they could hear the low blow of a horn. Oberyn was on his feet in seconds, a big grin plastered on his face making him look ten years younger.

“She’s here!” **

Your heart rattled the cage of your chest once you caught sight of land and the shining top of Sunspear’s palace, even the looming vegetation of the Water Gardens could vaguely be seen.

The warm Dornish breeze kissed your face, welcoming you back home. Although you had fun during your solo journey, you sorely missed Sunspear and all the people that lived there. You wondered how much your nieces had changed, if they even did at all. Arianne and Tyene had been close companions to you growing up. The three of you spent your early adolescence playing in the Water Garden and flirting with whatever poor boy got stuck in your alluring trap. You loved Oberyn dearly, but you could never have fun with the opposite sex when he was around. Entangle yourself with another woman? Sure, go for it. But if Oberyn caught a whiff of a male scent, he was right there to scare them off. Being with your nieces did a lot of good for you as you were allowed to escape Oberyn at least for a few hours.

You smile to yourself when you think of your possessive brother.

Retrieving a piece of cloth that was normally tied to your wrist, you press it under your nose. After so long it still smelled like Oberyn. Before leaving for your first stop, Lys, you had snuck into Oberynb’s room and cut a strip of fabric from one of his shirts. A token to take with you, for even though he chased all the boys away, Oberyn was your favorite person. More than Arianne and Tyene. More than your older brother Doran. He was your light. When Elia was murdered, Oberyn slept in your room every night because of your haunting nightmares. He pressed you close to his bare chest and you drowned yourself in his calming scent. Cloves, spices, and a bit of natural musk was your security blanket.

The sway of the ship brought you back.

You’d be seeing him shortly. You let go of the scrap of cloth, ignoring it as it fell to the ground. There was no need for it anymore. You were home.

“(Y/N)!!”

Even through the shout, you knew who it was. The closer you got, the more you could make out Oberyn at the dock; hands cupped around his mouth as he called out to you. Two armed guards stood sentry behind Oberyn and Ellaria. Of course they would be the first ones to greet you.

Leaning over the side, you call out “OBERYN!!”

Then, to the deckhands utter shock, you did the unthinkable. Getting up on the ledge of the ship, you dove into the sparkling water below. Their screams were drowned out once the water enveloped you. Breaching the surface, you swim over to the dock’s shore where Oberyn was running to.

“You crazy girl!” Oberyn was laughing as he helped you up and out of the water. His own trousers getting wet in the process but neither of you cared. He grabbed onto you for dear life and nearly suffocated you in his embrace. That’s when you heard the delighted screams of your nieces running into the water as well. Arianne excitedly skipped in, her dress skirts immediately getting wet. Tyene was a little more hesitant than her cousin but lifted up the hem of her dress and waded in. While Nymeria was close behind Tyene, Obara and Ellaria chose to stay on shore.

Even though saltwater stung your eyes and soaked into your clothes, you had never been happier. In the arms of your family you felt secure and loved.

Being drenched from head to toe made the way back to Sunspear’s palace a little uncomfortable, but at least you weren’t the only one. Nymeria had charged in, knocking all four of you into the water. Oberyn’s long hair was dripping as was Arianne’s. The way back, Tyene sulked over her wet attire; silently shooting daggers over at her half-sister.

Before facing your brother Doran, the reigning Prince of Dorne, you desperately needed a bath and a change of clothes. Being in that state was okay when it was in front of Oberyn, not the eldest child of Prince Egemen and Bahar Martell. Even if he was your brother, you still had to appear proper in front of the ruler of Dorne.

Departing from your welcome wagon, you were taken for your required bath. It felt like heaven to slip out of your soiled garments and into the steaming hot water that the maids had quickly supplied for you.

Sprinkling small jasmine flowers into the water made the floral scent begin to rise and fill your nostrils. As fun as your travels had been, this was your home that you had missed.

Hadiye, a hand maid who had been with you for years, goes to answer a knock at your washroom door. You could hear her quiet protest. “Prince Oberyn, your sister is almost done with her bath.”

Quite easily, Oberyn pushed past her. “That’s alright. You forget that (y/n) and I used to bathe together as children. Nothing I haven’t seen before. Besides, I want to hear of her adventures in the vast land of Essos!”

Gawking at the prince that was now striding over to your massive tiled tub, Hadiye looks to you and Melisa who had been lathering your hair with essential oils at the time of Oberyn’s disruption. Melisa, who was lower in rank than Hadiye, takes a step away from you and bows in your brother’s presence.

He waves them off. “You two may leave. My sister and I have much to catch up on.”

From her nervous glances at you, you assure the women that it would be alright. Before you left, this had been normal. Oberyn barging in on you as you bathed so he could keep you company and talk. Still, you knew how much this fact made others uncomfortable. “Go on. Let Prince Doran know that I will be ready in a little bit.”

Obedient Hadiye bows and ushers Melisa out.

“Such fretting hens.” Oberyn clicks.

“They surely haven’t changed one bit.”

Finally the two of you were alone. Releasing a sigh as he gets down on his knees, Oberyn sits on the floor; back leisurely pressed against your tub. Of course he never looked directly at you while you bathed. That would be inappropriate.

“So tell me of the year I have missed out on.” **

He had hoped things would be different once (y/n) came home. That her and Oberyn would stop tip-toeing the line of being inappropriate with each other. Yet his retainer had just told him what Hadiye had relayed.

Prince Doran purses his lips and runs a hand over his brow. They had always been too close, even before Elia’s murder. Elia had fretted over the relationship her younger siblings had. She wanted (y/n) to be married as soon as possible, preferably to a Dornish lord so that (y/n) would not have to suffer in a foreign land. Doran knew better. If he were to marry off (y/n), Oberyn would bring upon the apocalypse. Many times he had stated that no man could take (y/n) unless they defeated him in combat. Which more than likely meant Oberyn would kill any potential suitors.

What to do about them was becoming quite a problem for Doran. No young lord wanted to risk their life in order to claim (y/n). His father had taught all he may need to know for ruling Dorne, except for this. Times like this made him miss Elia. Under her care, Oberyn and (y/n) were more docile. Oberyn kept his possessiveness at bay while (y/n) kept her encouragement to a minimum. They clung to one another furiously after Elia’s premature demise.

Even with his paramour, Ellaria, Oberyn kept a tight grip on (y/n) and vice versa. Like snakes entwined in their mating dance.

He feared for his younger siblings. Their attraction to each other would ruin them.

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morallyinept · 8 months

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A list of all my favourite OBERYN MARTELL Fic Recs, with the writers tagged. Includes fics I am currently reading/want to read.

Please show some love to the writers by re-blogging and commenting on their work. 🖤

⚠️ Please ensure you check the triggers/warnings etc... on the stories themselves as some of them may not be suitable to your own particular tastes.

Lemon Cakes & Lust - @thetriumphantpanda

Stripes Of A Tiger & A Bond Formed Of Love - @palioom

The Viper & The Lamb Series - @supernaturalgirl20

Far From Home - @psychedelic-ink Featuring Ellaria Sand

Kinktober Day 5 - @agentwhiskeysdarlin

Does Your Mother Know? - @simpingcowboy

Sweet Reds & Starlight Mornings - @lowlights Featuring Ellaria Sand

Rescue - @deadhumourist GN!Reader

Oberyn Masterlist - @theshireisburning-so-mordoritis Lots to choose from!

The Viper's Bride Series - @wardenparker Featuring Ellaria Sand

Baths & Sunsets - @mrsbrekkers Featuring Ellaria Sand

Meant To Be Series - @radiowallet OFC

Not From Around Here Series - @mishasminion360 OFC

In Name Only Series - @forever-rogue

Wrap Around Series - @lovelyladyabsinthewrites Featuring Ellaria Sand

Flavour - @lavendertales Featuring Ellaria Sand

Little Prince & Sweet One - @redahlia-writes Featuring Ellaria Sand

Messenger Bird - @thosewickedlovelies Featuring Ellaria Sand

The Red Wolf Series - @heartsofbeskar OFC

Dark Paradise - @bits-and-babs

Sit On The Throne - @prolix-yuy

Kinktober 22 Oct 15th - @absurdthirst

Breath Of Life - @moonlight-prose

A Poisonous Truth Part 1 & Part 2 - @rise-my-angel Featuring Ellaria Sand

Holy & Heathen Series - @msmorningstaarr OFC

Happy Ending - @nothoughtsjustmeds Wife!Reader

Even Stars Will Fall Series - @cyantomatos Featuring Ellaria Sand

The Snake & The Dragon - @multifandomfanfiction

First Dance - @hopeamarsu

Aphelion Series - @something-tofightfor & @the-blind-assassin-12 Modern!Oberyn

Kinktober Praise Kink, Wax Play, Public Sex & Lactation Kink - @palioom

Fall In Love In A Single Touch - @ezrasversion

The Viper Longs For Foliage - @nerdieforpedro Plus Size F!Reader

Reaching For The Sweetest Of Peaches - @psychedelic-ink Modern AU

Enjoy The Show - @sweetenerobert M!Reader

A Baker's Dozen - Oberyn - @avastrasposts

Birthday Kiss - Oberyn Martell - @something-tofightfor

My Way - @lincolndjarin

Little Dove - @palioom

The Old Prince Series - @sirowsky

In The Night Air - @lis-likes-fics

Silent Running - @imperatorkhaleesi

The Sunshine Undertow Series - @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa Featuring Marcus Pike

#pedro pascal characters #fic recs #oberyn martell #oberyn martell game of thrones #game of thrones #the red viper #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x you #oberyn martell x ofc #oberyn martell x ellaria sand #house martell #dornish prince #prince of dorne #pedro pascal character fics

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theship-thewalrus · 1 year

Note

Hello!

Can you do an oberyn martell x reader x ellaria

One who leads a rebelion and its like lagertha from vikings , she asks dorne for shelter for a little break before going to travel again , and his daughters love her ( because who doesnt love a hot femenist leader of men ) but she often rejects them because she wants to rule the word

Hi Anon!! Love me some strong willed reader! I hope I did your request justice <3

oberyn martell x gender neutral! reader x ellaria sand

pretty much the ask

word count: 1358 words reading time: about 6 minutes warnings: none

For the past number of weeks, you have been staying in Dorne, hiding away from those who would love to see your head on a pike. Those, who would bring their children to watch your head roll. Laugh and cheer as you get marched through the streets. Yet here you were almost respected. You had been given refugee and they did not expect anything in return. Simply offering a safe place to lay low and have your men rest.

During your time here you found it to be a nice place. Though the overwhelming warmth caused you some discomfort in the beginning. But the maids were quick to give you new clothes, something that is yellow and airy. You looked like a resident of Drone, as though you had been born and raised her. It was not often you were gifted things and usually, they came with a price. It was something you learned living as a common person in Westeros. Thus, when you questioned them about the clothes, why they were given, and who had given them. They simply smiled and told you the various princesses had given them to you.

It caused you to seek the princesses out, to thank them for their gift. Yet, the meeting seemed to propel a friendship with the young girls. They looked up to you and became your shadow, following you around the palace, and helping you with whatever you needed. You found it incredibly sweet, how they looked at you with start eyes. How they asked you about the world, to help them train and watch them work. They desired to show off to you in a sense, to impress you and one-up another.

Yet this also caused two other people to take note of you. Oberyn and Ellaria, the father and mother/stepmother, of the various girls who have taken a liking to you. When you first arrived the pair thought you were stunning, even going as far as telling you that. At the same time drinking you in, the hunger in their eyes was clear. Yet you did not act on their advances. Not that time or the time after or the time after.

It was not that they were not beautiful and intriguing. But simply because it would distract you from your goal. You have devoted your life to freeing Westeros and its people. You can not abandon it all for two people, no matter how much you want to. They knew that to an extent. They understood and admired your devotion, but it did not stop their desire. Something that only increased when Oberyn saw how close you were with his children. How they shadowed you and how you adored them. Helping them with whatever they needed and when they weren't looking you would smile softly. His children meant the world to him and seeing you so close to them warmed his heart.

Sitting in the sun out in the water gardens you took in the warmth. Watching the young girls chase each other around and gossip, ensuring they do not get hurt when they do it. There was a small place in your heart for those girls, you would be devastated to hear they are hurt. Yet there was other watching you, how the yellow clothing you wore complimented you so well. How you looked so relaxed and content in their home.

Ellaria was the first to reach you, the woman sat beside you. Her eyes were full of hunger as her fingers trailed over your body. "You look stunning in the light my love," her words were soft as she spoke. However, you paid no mind to her, only offering a simple look in her direction. A Grin formed on your own face. You had to admit she was stunning, what she wore only added to her beauty. The different dresses and jewels looked lovely on her. But you were firm on not partaking in anything with the pair. No matter how much you wanted to.

"I know," you say simply, eyes drifting to hers. Where there was Ellaria, Oberyn was never far away. The pair always seemed to be together. Something you were almost jealous of, how they had each other. Not even the gods could rip the pair away, they were utterly devoted to one another. They offer you such a life with them, of devotion and love. Yet you push it away, your life was meant for bigger and better things. "I assume you are not here to enjoy the sun like myself." You ask eyes drifting back to the water and the girls. Ellaria smiled slightly, nearing ever closer to you "You are a clever thing, my love. Always a step ahead." The woman praised you, her voice soft and full of lust as you allow her hands to roam your body. You know what she wanted from you, a kiss, a word of your love for her. But nothing could pull such things from you, not until you had won at the least.

"Ellaria, my sun, leave them be." Oberyn blocks the sun from you slightly, his frame cast a shadow over you. Something that made pulled a frown from you. You knew the further you travelled after this, the colder it got. Thus, you had hoped to sit in the sun for as long as possible while you were here. It was only a matter of days before you left, returning to life on the road. Ellaria pouted slightly but moved away from you slightly, giving you some space. Oberyn was quick to move over to Ellaria's side and sit with her. The pair were quick to kiss, their hands roaming the other like they had not seen each other for months. When in reality you were sure it was only a matter of minutes.

"Is there a reason you are both here?" Your question, eyes trained forward as you spoke. The pair looked at you before each other, mirroring smiles appearing on their faces. Their pair knew what they wanted, and they would do all in their power to get it. Because they longed for your touch, for your hard exterior to melt and allow yourself to be worshipped by them. "Can we not enjoy the sun also?" Oberyn asks in an almost challenging way, as though he dared you to deny him. Your head lulled to the side to see them, the pair were already looking at you. "But that is not why you are here. We all know that,"

You were not one to beat around the bush, you liked to get to the point of things. It was useless to decorate your words, things needed to be down and quickly. But the pair in front of you often hide their true intention in well-placed words. Something that annoyed you to no end at times. But it is also something you liked about them. "See, Oberyn. They are too smart for their own good." Ellaria hums, hands roaming over Oberyn as she hides her face in the crook of his neck. "Hmmm, then why do you think we are here?"

You are silent for a moment, as though you were pretending to think. But there was no need, it was clear as day as to why they were here. "If I had to guess, you are here to ask me something. Yet, I think we all know the answer." Your attention was on then now, no longer were you trying to soak in the sun. They had taken up all your attention with their touches and continuous questions. "Why deny us, my love?" Ellaria starts "Allow your heart to rule, not your mind." Oberyn finishes.

But you would hear no more of it, wordlessly getting up. You did not know how many times you must tell them the same thing. give them the same answer. It had begun to annoy you slightly, a nice day ruined by their lust. They knew you could not be with them, yet they persisted. The pair did not try and stop you, something you were thankful for.

#oberyn martell x reader #oberyn imagines #oberyn martell imagines #oberyn x reader #ellaria sand x reader #ellaria sand imagines #ellaria x reader #ellaria imagines #got x reader #got imagines #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagines

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pettyprocrastination · 1 year

Text

Reluctant Bride

Pairing: Ellaria Sand x Baratheon!Fem! Reader (background Oberyn Martell x baratheon!fem!reader)

warnings: description of war, derogatory description of women, forced marriage, oberyn talks lowly of the reader’s appearance and status because he’s angry he has to marry in the first place, Oberyn is a dick but he gets better, (this makes it sound worse than it is lol. Just lore building with angst and sapphic yearning lmao.

Summary: Just months after the rebellion has ended, Ellaria Sand meets her lover’s betrothed.

word count: 1k

_____

Ellaria was dressed in finer clothes than you on your own wedding day.

Orange silk embroidered with golden serpents hugged her curves and fine jewels were weaved into her hair that your betrothed seemed content to twirl with his finger as he leaned in to whisper in her ear.

You didn’t need to be told who she was. The beautiful woman by your husband’s side, you saw it plainly in his eyes. Love and devotion that could never be found in a marriage under the sept’s roof, but rather one made by affection and passion.

Ellaria Sand was more of Oberyn’s wife than you ever thought you would be.

But bless the poor woman’s heart, she was frightened.

She didn’t want to come to his wedding at first. But Oberyn has all but begged her to, laying gentle kisses up her arm until he was mumbling his plea into the crook of her neck.

“If I will be forced to wed against my will, the least you can allow me is the pleasure of having my true love by side when I am chained to another.”

He always has a flair for dramatics, her sweet prince.

But Ellaria felt it, as she entered Storm’s End by his side, the judgemental stares and hushed whispers when his hand did not release hers. She knew exactly what they thought of her without ever heaving to hear their voices grind against her ears.

“He brought his whore?”

“To his own wedding, the gal!”

“She’s a bastard too, I heard.”

“That’s the dornish for you, debauched dogs, every single one of them.”

But she would not flinch at their words, she knew she was a bastard since birth, Dorne may have welcomed it but the rest of Westeros had no issue reminding her and every other sand in the world of their place. She learned it well and wore it with pride. She was the lover of the Red Viper, a child of house Uller, the gossip of tittering lords and ladies did not frighten her.

However, the Baratheons did.

She would be a fool not to, truly. They were the ones that started the war, plunging the realm into a year of bloodshed and horror that their eldest son charged headfirst into without a second thought.

Strong, dutiful, dangerous.

As she entered Storm’s End, thunder echoing against its stone walls that made their grand home resemble a shadowed cave rather than a castle, she is reminded of their words.

Ours is the fury.

It had been the third child, who greeted them. Dressed in all black and face somber, he looked well past his age, like a soldier returning from war rather than the young man just coming to age as he was.

“It’s a great honor to have you, my prince.”

But Stannis Baratheon had suffered a siege while his brother commanded from the battlefield, he had seen the war just the same.

His eyes, dark and cutting like a hidden blade, fell onto Ellaria, for a moment she felt as if she had come to an execution, rather than a wedding. Stannis looked at her like an intrusion, before bowing his head.

“My sister is eager to join our houses with this union. As are you, I am sure.”

Oberyn’s agreeance was slick with mockery, teeth flashed in a grin that made the young man’s face go sour.

“There is nothing I look forward to more.”

He had yet to let go of Ellaria’s hand.

The pair did not separate until they reached the sept, a grand building covered in tapestries of every dead saint and alive with hymns that speak of love and devotion.

Two things seldom found between husband and wife.

Oberyn walked to the altar alone, but his eyes caught hers in the crowd and he smiled. Even from afar, she knew him well enough to catch the twitch of his thumb at his side. That despite his anger and dismissive arrogance he loves to wrap himself in like a silken robe, he was at a disadvantage. This was not his home and nor were these were not his people. He was in the house of the family responsible for the death of his sister with no plan for vengeance, but a wedding he was forced into, just like his Elia.

Ellaria’s gaze is pulled from her lover as the grand door creaks open over the singing, where their king enters, face still laden with scars of the rebellion, of his conquest, escorting the bride by hand.

Robert Baratheon was large in every way possible. His presence commanded respect. Even in his formal wear the bulk of his muscle was seen through as he walked. The hymns dulled to a soft hum at his entrance, head turning as his eyes cut into the crowd before they landed on Ellaria and she froze in her spot.

For a moment, fear clenched her heart.

Robert had unleashed a war upon the realm when Rhaegar took his betrothed, he plunged his siblings into starvation and rode against countless noble families that now bend the knee to him. He caved in the chest of the silver-haired dragon prince himself, severing the three headed dragon with his war hammer until there was nothing left of it’s legacy than two eggs, lost to the wind.

And here she stood at his sister’s wedding, the proud lover of her betrothed.

There’s a brief moment where she wondered if he was going to say something. Shout an order for her to be escorted out for being so bold to be at the union, but then a hand squeezed his and he pulled away from her gaze to yours.

“Don’t.” Barely a whisper that only he could hear. No question nor plea, but an order.

One the Usurper obeys without resistance.

Ellaria had never seen you in person before. But Oberyn had painted a foul picture of you the moment your betrothal was confirmed to still be held after the rebellion. He spoke of your sneer and the way your lips puckered into a sour pout each time somebody spoke to you, your eyes were flat and empty of any emotion.

“If it weren’t for her skirt I wouldn’t know which one I was marrying.” Oberyn jested as he lifted a goblet of wine to his lips. “Her or Stannis.”

Ellaria watched you walk down the aisle to her lover, struck by your beauty.

A hood sat atop your head that fell to embroidered lace covering your shoulders, her eyes found a stray curl that dangled by your face and wondered what it would feel like under her finger tips. Dark eyes flick over to her own if only for a second and she felt herself stopped once more, not with fear.

But desire.

You continued forward and she watched you walk down the aisle to the awaiting prince.

A strong nose frames the soft line of your features, shoulders drawn back and head held high like a queen to be worshiped or a painting to be admired.

You were regal. Looking more like a crowned ruler than the king by your side.

Your voice did not waver during your vows, she wondered if you were frightened. Any woman would be. To marry a man who loathed her family for a death you had no part in.

But you didn’t let it show. Instead the promise to be a loyal wife echoed through the sept before you leaned forward and pressed your lips to Oberyn’s, who was just as stiff as you.

As she watched the first kiss of an unwanted marriage, Ellaria’s chest filled with envy of her beloved prince.

#ellaria sand x reader #ellaria sand x you #baratheon wife tag #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x you #teehee #id like to say my fantasy/medival fics have gotten some inspiration from my poetry of desire class last semester <3 thanks professor #those annotations were torture but the poetry slapped frfr #i think i still have my book actually #one of my favorites was the vine #i just. *clenches fist* love lore and WOMEN #im proud of this but also embarassed it took me like. four hours to write 1.2k words jfc man #i like putting oberyns wife in pretty hoods and gowns hehe #also i listented to tamino like the entire time i wrote this i hope it shows #anyways its..three am now. woof

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wardenparker · 10 months

Text

The Viper’s Bride - ch 7

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

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 20.3k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: terrible parents, age gap 10+ years, arranged marriage, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol, internalized homophobia. Reader is described as having hair long enough to braid* Flirty Oberyn deserves his own neon sign of a warning. References to pregnancy and childbirth. Oberyn has a short fuse. Dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), hair pulling, spanking, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, cum play Summary: Your trip out to the marketplace ends up being a more fruitful and more meaningful endeavor than you ever could have guessed. And with the burden of secrets lifted, things between your foursome are beginning to progress. Notes: Honestly this chapter brings me so much joy. Things are growing and coming together, and these four have So Much Emotion. I just adore the way they fit together.

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

“I have brought plenty of coins to make sure you buy whatever you wish.” Oberyn confides, guiding you through the halls of the brothel after leaving your lovers to explore the marketplace of King’s Landing together. “Though, we should decide what to do about your ring.”

"Ellaria should have hers back." Although it is the one that he put on your hand at the Citadel, it does not belong to you. It belongs to his paramour, and she was only kind enough to provide it as the answer to a desperate question at the moment. "Whatever you prefer me to wear will be lovely, I am sure."

“I was thinking about that.” He tilts his head as he walks with you out of the building and onto the streets. “Ellaria gave it to you.” He explains. “I was thinking that we could find a ring for her. And one for your Raeden.”

"Perhaps..." Toying with the bauble on your finger and rolling the idea over in your mind, you turn your eyes to him again as he leads you out of the brothel. "We could find some that compliment each other?" You suggest, unsure if he will like the idea. "For all of us?"

“That seems like a good idea.” He smirks and nods as he covers your hand with his own and pats it. “I believe that our lovers would like that. Tell me, is your Raeden’s cum crusting your thighs from the make up sex?”

"I think you would like it if it was," you surprise even yourself by laughing softly, but you shake your head. "He is far too exhausted and our talk was much too serious. But I am sure that he will be recovered by this evening."

“I thought it was disappointingly silent.” He muses. “However, the passion of make up sex is often incredible.”

"I hope not to fight with any of you again any time soon." The people that you pass on the street either pay you no regard whatsoever or they pause to stare. The prince pays them no mind, only giving his attention to you or where his feet will step next, and you try to take your cue from him.

“Fighting is a natural part of love, my star.” He does not always enjoy fighting, but it does happen. “But we will muster along and find a happy agreement.”

"It may be natural, but it is far from pleasant." And pleasantness is something you crave more often than not. You know that about yourself. "There are much more comforting and pleasurable things we could be doing rather than fighting."

“I agree.” Oberyn hums as he looks around. “And perhaps in time, you will realize that not all fights will end like the ones with your mother.”

"I hope to learn it sooner rather than later." He turns you down a lane to the right and deftly avoids others walking by, keeping you close to his side as you go. "There is something else I wished to speak to you about."

“Oh?” He tights his hold on your arm and steers you around a cart that is stopped in the middle of the street. “Anything in particular?”

"There is the little matter of our marriage." You murmur quietly, knowing that you cannot be overheard. "And that it is not yet...official."

Oberyn frowns slightly. “If you were examined by a maester, he would say that your cunt has been used.” He reminds you. “They do not need to know who’s cock filled it.”

Swallowing nerves and the pinch of fear of the unknown that accompanies any leap of faith, you squeeze his arm gently in your hand as you pass by an entire family out together in the street. "What if I were to admit to you that the thought of sharing our marriage bed has already crossed my mind favorably several times?"

It is not often that Oberyn is not prepared for a sassy comeback immediately. The words that he might have said to a mere stranger who admits their want of him are not suitable for this situation or you. He’s not unaware of your growing fondness, but he looks to you again to gauge your honesty. “I would ask you how you and your Raeden feel about such an idea.” He admits. “Along with your own feelings, beyond favorable.”

“It is not for me to tell his tale, but we have both confessed to our own desire to share your bed.” It is not an insignificant thing to confess this to him, and you can only hope that he has no real objections or conditions. “And Ellaria’s.”

“Then when you are ready to do so, you will be most welcomed.” He can’t help the smug smirk on his face and he sucks his teeth happily. “We will spend all day learning what ways pleasure you and your lover.”

“You are pleased.” His smile can mean nothing else. “I know that we began together in a rather odd way, but I—I do wish to be a proper wife to you.”

“You mean most do not beg their betrothed to marry them to save their lover’s life?” He asks teasingly, arching his brow as he looks back at you again. “Shocking.”

“And most do not house their new bride in a brothel,” you remind him with your own teasing tone. “Perhaps we are not proper at all.”

“You are safer in that brothel than the keep up on the mountain.” He reminds you, squeezing your arm against his body, “and there is more entertainment.”

“Far safer.” The market is not far, sprawling out along the city wall that looks out into the Narrow Sea. Tents, tables, stalls, and carts line a winding path that welcomes visitors and buyers to peruse goods at their leisure and haggle with the merchants in the warm sea air.

He chuckles when you do not mention the entertainment. Instead of pointing it out, his brows raise and he immediately steers you towards one stall that has an open flame and the mouth watering scent of roasted meat filling the air. “I did not realize that a stall here had Dornish food.”

“It smells like my grandmother’s house.” A nostalgic scent, and one that almost has you closing your eyes against the happy memories. “She was of House Yronwood, and kept a Dornish cook.”

“Meats here are so bland. It is why I eat so many fruits here.” He groans, walking up to the stall eagerly. “We will have to order some to be delivered to the rooms.”

“To have something of home will be comforting. For you and Ellaria both.” They have come farther than you have after all, and to an entirely different country. The Vale is not so dissimilar from King’s Landing except for being a slower pace of life.

“Do you have favored meals from the Vale?” He asks as he peruses the meats available and points to one particular roasted joint when the merchant rushes over.

"A few. It is a colder part of the world even in summers, so some of my favorite things have been soups or stews." You end up smiling, shrugging as though you have been caught when he sees you eyeing the pastries in the Dornish food stand. "Some sweets, of course."

“We will take four of each.” Oberyn nods towards the pastries and picks up one to offer you. “And a portion of your meats to be delivered to the brothel.”

The honey-syrup soaked fried dough is sprinkled with chopped nuts and dusted with a powder you do not recognize, but it looks delectable and you obediently open your mouth to accept the morsel without a second thought. Oberyn hums, smirking slightly as he feeds you a bite of the pastry. Watching as your eyes flutter in pleasure and your moan makes his cock twitch under his robes.

A distant memory from your childhood floats to the surface, the taste of roses in the honey reminding you of when your grandmother's cook used to serve the delicate pastries with sweet cream and you had tried to soak rose petals in a glass of milk the next day only to be vastly disappointed with the results. "Wonderful," you hum, cheeks warm with delight at the expression on the prince's face.

“Good.” He smirks and takes a bite of his pastry himself before offering you the rest of the treat. “The honey is most delicious licked off a lover’s body.” His smirk turns lasciviously wicked as he chews and swallows while watching you.

"I will bear that in mind..." Leaving 'my lord' or any other honorific off the end of the thought, you find yourself shy to meet his eyes but smiling nonetheless. After being so honest as to tell him directly that you desire him, it seems pointless to be coy about such a thing.

He chuckles, leaning in and kissing the edge of your mouth. Letting his tongue slide out to lap at a drop of honey that had escaped your notice. “You do that, star.” He murmurs when he pulls back.

It should be a sin to desire someone this way, but it is your husband, so the way your knees quake under you and threaten to give out when his tongue touches your skin and his voice pitches low is a welcome torment.

"Something amiss, star?" He asks with the tilt of his head and an amused smile on his lips. "You seem...flustered."

"Nothing amiss." You assure him, though you do feel the heat of your own cheek when you touch your fingers to the place that he just kissed. "Only enjoyable thoughts."

"Enjoyable thoughts become pleasurable moments." He hums, looking back at the merchant to hand over several coins.

"Perhaps not before too long." Without really knowing how ready you are to advance your marriage, the thoughts are firm encouragement. Almost as much as the few kisses you have exchanged.

Once he has paid, he informs the merchant which brothel he is staying in and is assured that it will be delivered with haste. Craning his neck, he looks around and then back at you. "Where to next, my princess?"

There are more merchants here than you have seen collected in one place in a very long time, and you look up and down the rows with interest before a stall catches your eyes. "My lord..." A breath of excitement is very telling from you. "There is a bookbinder's stall. Just there."

He steers you towards it without another word. He has seen your love of books and would never despair it. Encouraged to find that his wife has a love of reading and learning. “We shall see what they have.” He hums. “The library at Sunspear is vast and very diverse.” He tells you. “We have had to split it between the original keep and the Water Gardens, it has grown so large.”

"My father's library was my favorite place in the world," you tell him honestly, the shine of another dream on your face that has nothing to do with carnal pleasure. "There were days I would throw open the windows and let in the salt air from the Narrow Sea and do nothing but drink tea and read books from sunup to sundown."

“It sounds ideal.” He smiles, happy that there are some good memories from your father’s house. “There will be many more days like that in your future.” He predicts. “Although the air will be much warmer and the shade sweet if you wish to sit under an overhang and watch the children frolic in the gardens.”

"I think I certainly will." Knowing that he has so many children already both eases a certain measure of your anxieties about producing an heir as well as heightens them. He is certainly virile, able to continue to father many children through the years to come, and you do not fear sharing a bed with him any longer. But the prospects of childbearing remain terrifying.

He frowns when he sees fear cross your pretty face and he taps your hand to ask silently what is bothering you.

"My eldest brother's wife did not have easy births," you explain quietly, letting your fingers dance across the spines of the beautifully bound books in front of you in a soothing, familiar action. "She nearly lost her life to their son. But both are well now."

“I see.” Oberyn knows well that many women pass while giving life. It is a miracle that his daughter’s mothers had all survived. “Again, wife,” he murmurs softly. “If you have no wish to provide me with an heir, you do not need to.”

"I would not say that, exactly." As it is something that you have actively worked to prevent in the past, and something that you have viewed as your duty for so long, the gift of choice is almost startling. It forces you to think of whether you want to be a mother, or whether you had simply accepted an inevitability. "I think...it deserves to be thought on."

“Then you let me know.” He nods seriously. “After you have made a decision. Your decision.” He knows that you feel it is your duty to provide him with the promised heir, but he does not care about that. He has children, he has his older brother’s son. What matters is that he would not force you to give him a child, like he would not force you into his bed.

"Raeden was correct." The smile you offer him is grateful and true. "I have been most fortunate in the choice of my husband."

"I feel as if I am not so terrible." He hums, slightly smug about his own qualities. "At times."

"There is certainly the potential for fondness," you laugh, knowing that you have already surpassed potential in the few days you have known him.

"Do you see any books that you wish to have?" He asks, picking up a particularly lovely bound book of what looks to be poems to examine them further. With the king's wedding, normal merchants were displaying far costlier offerings than normal with all of the nobles gathered in the city. Soon they would pack these away and it would be a long time before Oberyn steps foot in this place again.

"I would read anything and everything." It is a deep truth, that you will read almost anything handed to you, but you have found yourself hovering over some volumes telling the tales of tragic lovers and another set of volumes telling the stories of sailors from generations past. "These are beautiful pieces. Either one would be a lovely keepsake."

"Get them both." Oberyn hums, looking up from the poems with an indulgent smile. "The ship back to Dorne will be a perfect backdrop for you to lay in a hammock and read on the deck under a sail all day."

"Are we sailing?" As much as you love the sea, you have never done more than look out over it or play in the tides when you were small. It was not ladylike to do when you were older, according to your mother.

"Yes." Oberyn looks out towards the sea. "It is quicker to get to Dorne, I would rather not spend weeks traveling." He smirks. "Plus Cersei has gifted her daughter a ship for us to take back."

“That is very kind of her.” The bookbinder is not very subtle about listening intently, so you smile pleasantly at the mention of the late king’s mother.

"Yes." He knows why you are being so diplomatic, and he approves. Even if he did not share that diplomacy normally when it comes to anyone who bore the Lannister crest.

"We will enjoy our voyage, then. It will be my first time at sea." The binder ties your book sets with cord and leather while you wait, and thanks the prince with an excessive amount of bowing and scraping when payment is given. For you, the joy of new books has already made the entire day most worthwhile and you accept the bundle with great care.

"What shall we peruse now?" Oberyn hums, his own book purchased for Obara. She would like the ofte morose verses. He looks over at you with an indulgent smile. "Jewelry? Trinkets? A new sword for your lover?"

“We should look for rings.” It would be a welcome gift, you think, to show that you had been thinking of Raeden and Ellaria. “Raeden’s sword is very precious to him.”

"Yes, I could tell it was something that he did not wish to part with." He hums, taking your books from your hand and tucking them up under his elbow. "Was it his father’s?"

“It was.” The bond between fathers and sons is not lost on you, having seen it with your own three brothers. Raeden’s relationship to his own father is unique. “It was a gift to him, before he sent Raeden to train.”

“Who was his father?” He asks, knowing that the man should be from a noble house if he was given the opportunity to train.

"Monford Velaryon." The whole story is still somewhat of a mystery, even to you, but you certainly know the great House that your soulmate is descended from. That is sometimes all that bastards know. Raeden is, technically, quite fortunate to have any sort of relationship with his father.

That is surprising and Oberyn's eyebrows arch up as he makes a sound of understanding. "I see." He knows of the man. "The brother of the Bastard of Driftmark." He hums with an amused smirk. "No wonder he treated his own bastard well."

"He rarely speaks of his father, but he has known him a little over the years," you explain the little that you know as the pair of you stroll toward the metal workers and trinket makers at the other end of the market stalls. "He sent Raeden to Lord Royce to train, which is how he came to the Vale."

"Then it is fortunate that he had sent him to you." He guides you towards a stall that has a dazzling display of gold. "I believe that the fates or gods always allow us to meet our soulmate at least once." He informs you. "Otherwise why would the gods, old or new, have us bear each other’s marks?"

“It is not easy to think of things as being left up to chance.” In that, you must agree with him. “You have been very fortunate to have so many years with Ellaria.”

"Yes, I am." He does not doubt that. "It was a chance meeting." He admits, sliding his arm down so he can lace his fingers with yours. "She spilled an entire carafe of wine on me in the little tavern she was working at, fired on the spot and nearly overwhelmed by her misfortune."

“I cannot imagine her as anything but poised, but I suppose everyone is young and nervous once.” It makes you smile, actually. To think of the young prince swooping in to rescue the young damsel he saw in distress.

"She lived above the tavern and was kicked out." He squeezes your hand and frowns at the memory of the past wrong. "When I was done drinking that night – I had dismissed her from my thoughts, after all, what was one clumsy serving girl? – I found that same girl pacing in front of the whore house I was going to seek pleasure at."

“Deciding whether or not to find work?” You guess, nodding solemnly despite reveling in the comfortable way your hand fits into his.

"She was." Oberyn bites his lip and looks at you. "So I bought her first and only night as a whore."

“It seems you are accustomed to rescuing young ladies from possibly terrible fates.” Of course not every whore leads a life of poverty or sadness, and not every woman separated from her soulmate is doomed to misery and despondency. But luckily for you and Ellaria both, there was no need to find out what other possibilities life might hold.

"Perhaps I have read too many stories of fabled knights." He chuckles, dismissing any compliment that you might offer. "It is always an easy read."

“I enjoy them very much myself.” With your hand in his, you squeeze his fingers gently and keep close to his side. “But I seem to enjoy the real men themselves far more.”

"What you do not read in those books is that those same men are quick tempered, stubborn, sharp tongued and deadly." He winks at you and then nods towards the jewelry. "Shall we see what baubles catch our eyes?"

A silversmith and a goldsmith seem to be sharing quite a large area with their backs to the ocean wall, and both men have their apprentices scurrying around doing all manner of small tasks when you and the prince approach. “What does Ellaria like best?” You ask, wanting to make sure the gift that goes to her is nothing short of perfect.

Obeyrn chuckles. "She loves beautiful things, especially ones that caress her skin like a lover." He taps your finger with the ring on it. "Things like this."

“But you do not think it should be returned to her?” The ring is beautiful, its shining stone catching the light wonderfully and scattering it everywhere for all to enjoy, but you would not keep it for a moment if it would sadden her to go without it.

"My lover would not have offered it if she had wanted to keep it." Of that he is certain. It quite possibly brings her great joy to see her ring on your finger, a little claim of her own on his wife. "Offer it back to her if you wish and hear what she says."

“No, I trust you to know her mind.” Just as you would hope he trusts Raeden to know yours. “Perhaps we could find her something that resembles a sun? I have…heard you call her that. And it is a beautiful sentiment.”

"She is my sun and world." He nods, smiling approvingly at your sense of sentiment. "She is very like the bursting sun of Dorne. Radiant and beautiful."

“She might be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” That is something you can easily admit – after all, you have eyes.

"She is enchanting." Oberyn agrees and looks at you. "But she and I both agree that you are just as breathtaking and appealing." He assures you with a small wink. "We have talked at length about how disappointed it is that you would not be joining us in our bed. Before your change of heart."

“Many things have changed in the last few days. For the better, I think.” There is a ring in one of the goldsmith’s cases that holds a red-orange stone in a spiral of intricately woven golden metal, with barbs that neatly resemble the sun’s rays or a great explosion of fire because of the color of the stone. “Do you think she would like this?”

His hand must let go of yours to pluck the ring from the soft cloth it is laying on and he hums as he holds it up to the sunlight to examine. "I think that she would love this to be on her hand while she caresses your skin, or your lover's skin." He admits with a smirk when he tears his eyes off the ring and looks back at you.

“Or perhaps both.” Which might be altogether the most scandalous thing you have ever said in your life, but with a husband like the Prince of Dorne, no one seems to pay it any mind.

"Then she would need one ring on each hand." He chuckles. "My paramour is greedy."

“She should have one for every finger if that is what she desires.” A woman like Ellaria – if there are any other women like her – deserves to be showered with gifts and affection the same as any noblewoman.

"I think you should get her this." Oberyn decides and hands the ring to you before he sets down the books so he can pick up linked chains of gold. "And I will get her this."

“Beautiful.” Nothing Ellaria wears is simple, and the delicate golden chains will flow over or under her dresses beautifully.

"It will drape around her breasts and draw eyes and mouths to her skin." He predicts before he looks towards the goldsmith. "I need two of these." He orders. "I need one for my wife and one for my lover."

The man seems confused at first, but when you neither flinch or react at all, he nods slightly. “Would you like them to be identical, my lord? Or have them specially made for your ladies?”

He turns towards you for your input. "What do you say, star?" He asks seriously. "Would you like to match Ellaria? Wear this and nothing else as you entice your Raeden and your husband?"

“It would be an honor to have something identical to your paramour.” To have something that marks you both as his sounds as enticing as the image he has painted.

He hums in approval and turns back to the goldsmith. "I would like two of the exact same." He orders, handing over the chains. "And we require a gift for my wife's lover."

“What…sort of gift did you have in mind?” It is obviously not the sort of request he is not used to receiving, and even as he sets to work collecting your purchases he tilts his head in curiosity.

"Star?" Oberyn turns towards you and he lifts your hand up to his mouth to kiss the back of it. "What kind of bauble would your Raeden like?" He asks. "I have not gotten a chance to know him quite as well as you so I will defer to your knowledge."

“I think he might like a ring as well.” Not usually one for baubles, you have seen his admiration for rings at other times in the past. Particularly one like his father wears. “Something like a signet? That he could seal letters with.” A nobleman’s signet with the sign of his House is something altogether extremely special, but of course simpler ones exist.

Oberyn's eyes narrow as he thinks about it and he nods. "Yes." He agrees, biting his lip. "Perhaps–" He looks at you in question. "Perhaps he might like a signet with a sword piercing a stone?" He imagines the image of a large stone with the hilt of a sword sticking up from it.

"I think that would be most fitting, and appeal to him immensely." It would be the mark of considering him a man, more than a servant, if nothing else. Sometimes you doubt that your father even knew Raeden could read and write. It was not that he thought his guard an idiot, but rather that he had simply never bothered to notice.

Pleased with your agreement, the prince turns towards the smith and raises a brow. "Can you craft that?" He demands. "I will not accept poor work. It must be a ring that a noble would wear."

"It will be costly, my lord, but it can be done." The merchant nods, again looking between you with curiosity. "Would you like it engraved? A name? Or initials?"

"Does he have a second name?" Oberyn asks you, only aware of the name you had told him. If he were a noble’s son, he might have been given another name.

"Monford." Though Lord Monford Velaryon could not claim his bastard son, he had done the best he could. Giving Raeden his name in another way. "Raeden Monford Stone."

Nodding, Oberyn turns back to the smith. "Have the letters R, M and S intertwined, like this." Oberyn removes his own signet ring and offers it to the smith to see.

Considering the commission, the merchant gives the prince a cost and the amount of time it will take, inflating both for his own benefit. Fast work is not quality, and cheap clients are not worthwhile.

"Five more coins if you have it done tonight." He tells the man, well aware it would not take as much time as he had estimated and ballooned the price to fill his pockets. It was honest thievery and from what he can see, the man has quality goods. "Polished and delivered to where I am staying."

"Tonight, my lord?" The merchant considers for only a few moments, knowing the coin more than warrants leaving his apprentice here to sell his goods while he works. "Aye. That can be managed. The whereabouts of your lodgings will be needed, of course."

"The brothel." Oberyn supplies the name of Littlefinger's establishment and nods, before looking back at his display of rings. "Now I need to find something specifically for my bride."

"And I should like to find something for my husband." You have your own coin, though it may not be as plentiful as his, and have found that you enjoy the idea of the prince wearing a token of your affection. It is nothing so bonding as your wedding ring, but it is a sweet symbol nonetheless.

"Star..." Oberyn turns back to you with a small smile. "You need not get me anything." He hums. "The presence of your beauty and intellect is gift enough."

"If you do not wish to wear a token, that is your choice." Although, you note with surprise that the rejection does not fill you with dread and bile the way it might of yesterday. Instead, only a flutter of nerves makes you shift in place. "But if you are willing, I should like you to have something that I have chosen for you."

"My dear." Oberyn shakes his head and reaches out to cup your cheeks with both of his hands. "I will wear anything you give your husband with pride." He assures you softly. "I just do not wish you to feel obligated to give me anything."

"It is not an obligation at all." That is an easy enough, and honest, reassurance. "It will please me to dote on you. That is all."

Oberyn is not one to not give into his impulses so he does not not resist leaning in and kissing you softly. "Thank you, star." He murmurs, keeping it simple and quick before he is pulling away.

"You will look for me, and I will look for you." The warmth and hazy quality of his kisses are still new to you, and you can feel your cheeks burn when he pulls away. Whatever is given to the Prince of Dorne must be extraordinary in at least one aspect, so you set to work looking through the goldsmith's wears immediately.

"My lord–" Oberyn's eyes turn back to the merchant as he shifts uneasily. "There is a matter of payment for–"

"You will get your coins." He promises him, his voice low and warning. He understands some of the lesser lords would try to pinch pennies and delay payment, but he is not such a man.

"The Prince and Princess of Dorne are not the penny pinching squabblers that you have been used to making your deals with," you inform the merchant, for the first time using your new title entirely on your own. There is a note of pride in your voice that is unmistakable.

Being a merchant in King's Landing, he had known the man was not from around here, but his eyes widen in fright when he hears who he has just insulted. "I– apologies, my lord, my lady." He bows so low he nearly folds himself over. While he might not have recognized Oberyn on sight, he has no doubt this is the fabled Red Viper. The rumors that he had finally wed seem to be true.

"You have a right to protect your business, ser." A ring on the far end of his stall has caught your eye and you wave him over to ask about it. Many strands of shining gold twist around each other again and again in an intricate pattern that your eye cannot trace easily, but both ends of the strand end in viper's heads with precious stones embedded there – one bright red and one deep blue. "This piece. You designed it yourself?"

"Aye." He nods, rushing over to eagerly hand you the ring. Now that he knows how deep your purse goes, he is very happy to accommodate any and all of your whims. "Me wife designs them. She's handy with a piece of coal."

"Very handy indeed." It is a fascinating design, and now that it is in your hand you turn it over several times and chirp with delight when it seems to fall to pieces in your fingers. "It is made to do this?" You ask the man quietly. "To be solved each time before it can be put on?"

He nods, looking particularly proud of that piece since you seem so impressed. "Somethin' to keep idle hands busy." He boasts, puffing his chest out slightly. Oberyn smirks at how he chatters with you while his eyes roam over the remaining rings to find the perfect gift for you.

"It is perfect, I think." May it take every ounce of your pin money, it does not matter. The merchant gives you the price after you insist on paying separately from your husband, and you produce the coins for him with a nod. The ring will be added to your order and hopefully Oberyn will be as taken with the bauble as you are.

One ring catches his eye and he has to reach over the stand to pluck it up to get a better look. Large, clear stones surround an even bigger milky white one. The delicate scrolls etched into the twisted gold reminds him of star dust streaking across the sky when he witnesses shooting stars. It would be the moon and stars, perfect for you.

"Have you found something of interest, my lord?" Ready to cater to the infamous prince's whims in whatever way he is able, the merchant carefully adds the ring you chose to the cloth-lined box he has selected for the prince's order.

"This." Oberyn holds the ring up and looks at the merchant. "Are the stones precious?" He asks. "I have not seen these before."

"Aye." He looks down at the piece and smiles, particularly proud of the way the craftsman ship turned out. "These on the edges are diamonds of different sizes. The center is called moonstone. Particularly beautiful, if I might say so, your Highness."

"It is." He agrees, humming thoughtfully as he looks at the ring. "I want it."

The merchant scrambles to comply, wrapping everything that has been ordered and looks up eagerly. "Is there anything else that I can do for you, my lord?"

"Make sure that you have my other ring available tonight." He reminds the man, opening his purse and starting to drop gold coins into his hand.

"My son will deliver it himself." The man assures him, all but groveling when the prince places payment in his hands. "It is my honor, ser."

“The rest of your coins will be given to him upon delivery.” Oberyn tells him, taking the box and nodding his thanks.

"I think he may tell everyone he meets for the next month that we visited him," you hum as you walk away, slipping your arm around your husband's as you go.

"As long as he does not call me cheap." Oberyn huffs in amusement before spying a merchant with large bags. "Perhaps one of those is in order for our growing purchases." He suggests. Between the books and not the box, his other arm is full.

"My eldest brother's wife favors one of these," you recognize the styling immediately. The material is nicer than the reused ship's canvas that many in the Vale make goods out of, but the style is the same. "It looks near identical to hers, but for the fabric."

"Pick the one you like best." Oberyn tells you, sending you an indulgent wink. "There are still many more coins to be spent if we wish."

"You are an indulgent husband." It earns him a kiss to his cheek before you step forward to choose a bag, greeting the merchant merrily when you come up to her stall.

He chuckles as he ambles behind you slowly. Letting you take the lead in this interaction. Watching you with a certain fondness that he had not expected to have, especially at this point.

To your delight, when you ask the merchant about her wares, she happens to have a bag made of the same disused ship sail material that you are so used to seeing. The pattern that she has stitched into it is a beautiful pattern of roses and their vines that make it a breathtaking work of art. Something so delicate with such a strong material takes a talented hand, indeed.

Oberyn looks around the waterfront, aware that there are many eyes on the two of you and he smiles. Let the word get back to Cersei that he is walking the streets of the city.

"Where else shall we walk?" It is impossible not to notice the eyes on you as the prince helps you carefully layer the purchases into the beautiful bag and put it on his shoulder. "Is there anything else you wish to explore?"

“You have said it has been a long time since you have come to King’s Landing.” He reminds you, taking your hand again and holding it rather than having you hold his arm. “And it might be years still since you return. Is there anywhere you wish to visit?”

“I was brought to be presented to the king.” The way you shrug your shoulders gives the impression that it was no great adventure and it certainly was not. “It was endless social engagements under my mother’s thumb. I see now that she was trying extremely hard to have me married quickly to be rid of me, but obviously that did not happen the way she wanted.”

“May I ask why?” Oberyn asks curiously. “You are a beautiful woman and I have no doubt there were many lords to wish you as a wife for themselves or their sons.”

“I have always been bookish.” It is not something you regret, though clearly something others do not find as desirable. “An educated girl with an opinion is not usually a lord's first choice for his son. Too headstrong. But I think also that my eldest brother, who came with us, had been directed by my father to be quite picky about my match.”

“I see.” He wonders why the man had been so choosy but it does not matter now. You are wed to him and he enjoys your intellect. “If you had a cock, maesters would be impressed with your eagerness to learn.” He snorts. “Women bear our children and yet some feel that they are weaker.” Shaking his head, he sends you a small smirk. “If they truly understood that a smart woman controls her lord with ease.”

“My father was content to let me choose for myself until my mother convinced him to accept your brother’s offer.” Walking along the market together is rather aimless now, but you still enjoy it. “But marrying for love when you are a nobleman’s daughter still does not allow the possibility that you should love someone of a different station.”

“You never told your father about Ser Raeden.” He can’t fault you for that logic, sure that you wouldn’t have been allowed to marry him. Most likely Raeden would have been sent away.

“There would not have been a point.” As unfortunate as it is, and as kind a man as he is, your father still only considered matches of rank or wealth for you. “I struck a deal with my eldest brother after his second child was born. If our father allowed me to stay unmarried, I intended to live with Antony and his wife and help to raise their children. A spinster aunt would have taken the place of needing to hire a septa to educate them, and Raeden would have simply stayed in service to our family.”

“Then I apologize for leaving your brother without his spinster sister.” Oberyn jokes dryly, sending you a wink.

“I hope that one day my brothers might be able to visit us in Dorne?” It is a long journey from the Vale, but it would sadden you immensely not to ever be able to see them again. They have been your constant companions for your whole life. “I think you would like them. Particularly my second brother. He has more of an artist’s temperament.”

“Your brothers are welcomed in Dorne any time they wish to visit.” He promises with a serious look. “I regretted not being able to see my sister more and I would not wish that on any brother.”

“Perhaps I will write to them tonight to tell them so.” You squeeze his arm gently in your hands as you walk together. “Who knows how long it will be before we are allowed to leave King’s Landing. I will write to say I am safe, that we are married, and that they are welcome whenever they choose.”

“We can arrange for you to send a raven.” Oberyn offers. “We do have a few that are designated for the Vale, we will acquire more.”

“I would be very grateful for it.” He might protest, but the prince truly is a kind and most helpful man. “But all of that is really only to say that the most I have seen of King’s Landing is the inside of a handful of ballrooms and assembly rooms.”

“Then I shall take you to a favored tavern of mine.” He decides with a grin. “The Coachman is where I have shared many drinks and laughs when I have had to be here. The wine is not Dornish, but it’s drinkable.”

"In fact...that is one of the only places in the city that I have been before." It makes you tense, to remember that night was only a few days ago. It seems like months or even years. "But I expect you knew that."

His head tilts curiously and he looks over at you, wondering at your unease. “Why would I know that, Star?”

"Perhaps she simply did not tell you where we were." That is the most likely explanation, even as you trail your eyes down to your feet to watch the toes of your boots appear from under your skirt with each step. "I would be interested to know what Ellaria did tell you about our first meeting."

“Hmmmm.” Oberyn knows that his lover does not keep important things from him so it does not bother him too much that she had met you before he had. “I’m afraid that she did not tell me.” He admits as he stops and turns towards you. “This is the first I am hearing of such a meeting.”

"I thought she would have told you..." Suddenly terrified to have spoken out of turn despite the prince not appearing to be upset at all, your eyes stay glued to the ground rather than looking up at him. "It was the day before we were invited to break fast with Queen Cersei," you murmur, convinced he could start railing at any moment. Your mother would have, certainly. "She sent a note to the Red Keep asking me to meet her. I–-I brought Raeden. For protection. As I had no idea who she was."

Chuckling, the prince shakes his head, admiring his lover’s tenacity and her capabilities. She is not a woman who sits on her hands and worries. “And what did you think when you met her?” He asks, wanting to know what impression you had of her.

"That she was very protective of you. And that she loves you very much." Both of which are true, but at the time you had not known what to make of the conversation.

“I believe that no one could argue that point.” He agrees, squeezing your hand. “Ellaria would take issue with someone arguing that.”

"And now that I know her a little better, I would never dare think otherwise." The action brings your eyes to your joined hands and you smile weakly. "I thought she would have told you."

“My lover is independent.” He hums, watching as you fluster slightly. “She probably thought that if she knew what to expect, she could manage to redirect my attention if needed.”

"I would not blame her for wanting to know what I am like." After all, you were as much a stranger to them as they were to you.

“It speaks very highly of her view of you that she did not tell me about the meeting.” He admits. “She felt no need to warn me.”

"Is that what it means?" You look up at him with nerves written on your face.

“Nothing to fear, Star.” Oberyn winks at you and smirks smugly. “My lover knows what I like, and she knew I would be very intrigued by you.”

“Then I am glad to not have disappointed either of you.” Feeling the earnestness of the moment, you bring his knuckles to your lips to kiss them and find it much easier to smile. “Should we go then? Being there for perhaps ten minutes in the middle of the night, I have very little memory of what it was like.”

“We shall.” Oberyn turns back and guides you a few blocks over to the Coachman’s Tavern, grinning when he hears the rowdy noise from inside spilling onto the streets.

The inside is crowded and rowdy just as it was a few nights ago, but there seem to be more people eating meals and fewer just drinking for the sake of it at this time of day. Fewer dancing girls too, from the look of it. If Oberyn is aware of the looks, he ignores them, catching the attention of one of the serving girls and smirking. “A table and some wine.” He demands.

“Aye.” She nods, giving him a sultry smile and pointing. “Just there. I’ll fetch your wine.”

“Come, princess.” His hand is still firmly linked with yours as he pulls you towards the table that had been pointed out. “We will share some wine and discover more about each other.”

“What would you like to know?” There can be no secrets now – the two things that you had kept from all others are things that you had divulged to him very easily.

“Anything you would like to tell me.” The bag on his arm is set beside the chairs and he watches as you sit down before he sets his royal self down beside you with a slightly dramatic flare.

“I do not think there is terribly much interesting about me that you do not already know.” His complete attention flusters you all over again, but the difference is noticeable. This is a pleasant, warm, encompassing feeling. Not fear. “I am passably accomplished. My singing and dancing are exemplary, but playing music and needlework are less so. I can paint, though, and I know geography and the noble houses of Westeros.”

“What did you do when you were a child?” Oberyn asks, leaning in and watching you with interest. He wants to know about your past, your interests. The things that he has long learned about his lover, he will now learn about his wife.

“Played with my brothers.” With those being such fond memories, you smile and lean closer to him in turn. “Antony, Bennick, and Corwen always seemed very amused by me, even when I was very little. As if a little girl made no sense to them. So they taught me to fence with sticks and climb trees and tumble around with the dogs instead.”

He smiles, imagining you running around and fighting with your brothers. “My daughters do the same.” He tells you. “They are fierce and strong like I imagine you must have been as a little one. Clamoring on your papa’s shoulders and demanding sweets.”

“Bennick would sneak us all sweets when the septa wasn’t looking.” The memory makes you smile. It’s such an innocent thing but it felt like being bandits. “Mother was very strict about treats, but Ben always found a way.”

“Sweets are demanded often around the halls of Sunspear.” His youngest especially. She has a sweet tooth that rivals her father’s. “The cooks keep pastries and cookies for the girls to ‘steal’.”

“It makes you feel terribly clever, as a child.” The serving girl comes over, depositing two goblets on the table and the wine, but giving her full attention to Oberyn when she simpers and asks what else he wishes for.

“Are you hungry?” Oberyn looks to you as he asks, pouring wine into your goblet and pushing it towards you.

“I—yes, actually.” The food in your room was probably wonderful, but you hadn’t had any stomach for it this morning. “If you are,” you add quickly.

“Food.” Oberyn decides, turning back to the server. “Whatever is best.”

“Aye.” The girl casts a glance at you but nods and walks away without a fuss.

He chuckles quietly as he turns back towards you and arches a brow. “What do you think of her?” He asks teasingly. “Do you like the width of her hips? Her breasts were very big.”

“I hardly noticed,” you admit. It felt very much like the girl was judging you, so you barely gave her a second look. “I…I have only noticed a few women in my life. Like that.”

"So you are selective." He nods as if he is learning some kind of great insight into the way your mind works. "That is good to know."

“Perhaps.” He seems to approve of this, and you smile as you drink your wine. “There are very few women in the world who are not beautiful somehow, but to be entranced by them is something different.”

Being entranced is a rare thing. He knows this because there have been very few lovers that have actually entranced him. "I know exactly what you mean." He agrees as he reaches for his own goblet. "True intoxicating beauty is something that is rarer than the most delicate bloom."

“You are very lucky to have Ellaria.” You tell him honestly, safe in the knowledge that you have shared with him. “She is precisely that rare. Brynna was that rare, too.”

He reaches out and finds his fingers trailing over yours. "You are that rare as well, star." He assures you. "Just like they are. Yet you have your own beauty that shines through like the softest moonbeams."

“I have spent my entire life being told by my father and brothers that I have a lovely smile and beautiful eyes. I thought them my only good features until Brynna and Raeden began to teach me otherwise.” His fingers are warm and teasing, stroking your skin softly, and you stretch your own to touch his skin as well. “Now to hear you say such things?” It makes your cheeks burn and your heart flutter. As if your whole body could take flight. “It is more than I could have imagined.”

"They do not see the fire in your eyes." He insists, curling his fingers around yours and toying with them idly as he keeps his eyes fixed on yours. "The strength in your spine and the love in your heart." He adds. "It is wrapped up with a clever mind and a selfless determination to make sure that those you love are safe."

It is hardly likely, when you look back at the prince – at your husband – that he does not know what he is saying to you. But you wonder if he knows how fully he sees into your heart or how he sees things about you that even Raeden did not perceive at first. And you wonder, too, if he understands the desire you already have to keep him safe. “You are a very insightful man,” you murmur, lacing your fingers together through his. “I hope I am able to live up to what you think of me.”

"You will not disappoint me." He murmurs, leaning in to press his lips to your fingertips one by one. "You cannot, because all I wish is for you to be yourself."

“I will always do my very best to make you happy,” you promise him quietly. And if that means more moments like these in the years to come, you will be very grateful.

He nods and then the server comes back with the large platter laden down with food and sets it down in front of Oberyn. "Anything else my lord requires?" She purrs as she leans over to give him an up close view of her breasts.

“You will be the very first to know if he does.” The girl’s forwardness does not bother you so much. She earns her coin how she can and that is her business, but you are obviously enjoying an intimate moment.

Her eyes cut over to you and she would dismiss you completely to turn her attention back to Oberyn. Annoyance at her treatment of the woman in his presence makes him strike out, grabbing her chin and narrowing his eyes on her own wide ones. "Do not disrespect the princess of Dorne in my presence again." He warns her slowly, his voice low but the fact that he is not yelling is more dangerous.

“M’sorry, milord.” The panic on her face is obvious, eyes flicking frantically between his face and yours, pleading for help but too frozen to pull away. “Never again, milord!”

“Husband…” Slowly, you are unsure if you should say anything at all but you feel badly for the girl. Your hand rests gently on his shoulder, not willing to test his temper any more. “You cannot blame her for liking your attention. No harm was done.”

Oberyn watches her for another moment before he finally lets go of her chin and leans back, looking over to you. His temper got the best of him and normally Ellaria is the only one who can somewhat reign him in, but your soft words had soothed his ire. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out two coins to drop onto the table as he looks back at the server. "Go."

The girl disappears faster than lightning in the sky, and you breathe again softly. “Every person in the world cannot expect to have seen a portrait of every royal. Everything is fine.”

"Princess or whore." He growls slightly, cutting his eyes around towards you again even though they are not quite as dark anymore. "To ignore a lover in their presence is an insult. One I do not accept lightly."

“And I am sure she will never commit such an offense again.” The hand you have on his shoulder presses slightly more firmly and you hold his eyes. “All is well, my prince.”

There is an excitement that washes over him with the firmness of your touch and voice. His cock twitches and he grunts in agreement. "It would be a shame to waste the food."

“It would.” The tray that was delivered holds meat pies, cheese, roasted vegetables, and even a portion of sweets to share, and you offer him an encouraging smile. “And it all looks very well. So why do not we eat, and talk more, and afterward we can return to the brothel?”

"That sounds like a plan, princess." Oberyn's dagger comes out of its sheath and he spears a potato to offer to you.

Conversation returns and you watch carefully as his humor returns to normal. The meal is filling if not the most delicious thing you have ever eaten, and you distinctly remember the moment of being fed that Dornish pastry in the market earlier when you offer him a bite of the little spice cake and its apple filling from your own fingers.

Oberyn hums but his favorite part of the treat is letting his tongue lap at your fingers. Smirking when he watches your eyes widen and he leans back to swallow. "Shall we return to our quarters?" He asks, the meaning much heavier and intimate than previous.

“That…seems wise.” The way he looks at you gives you the impression that he is going to devour you whole – something you have only seen in Raeden’s eyes before this moment. It is not at all unwelcome, but it does make you a bit nervous as you rise from the table. Once again, you find yourself worried about being a disappointment to the prince.

He sees the way your expression changes, your lips pinch together in harmony with your brows. You are uneasy and he will not have that. "Yes." He hums and stands to offer you his hand. "We will return to our quarters and then...." He shrugs one elegant shoulder. "We shall see."

******

Returning to the brothel bears almost an odd sense of calm and even welcoming, although you have not seen Lord Baelish’s face since yesterday. Or perhaps it is somewhat because of that fact. Either way, you and the prince are greeted cordially by Cal near the entrance and he takes the bag of purchases up to the rooms you have been using after asking if the prince has any other needs to be met. The obvious hope in the man’s voice is not something you can blame – just like the attention of the serving girl at the Coachman. The prince is irresistible.

His eyes flicker back to you and then to the man who had spent several nights in his bed since his arrival in King's Landing. "Some wine, Cal." He hums, sending him a wink. "I do not know where the night takes me but I think that you need rest from my attentions, no?"

His disappointment shows in a pout, but he just nods before veering off course to obtain more wine for the prince’s chambers. He will deliver everything at once, including the various packages of food that were delivered to the door just a few minutes ago.

“Shall we go see if your Raeden is awake?” Oberyn offers, sure that you are not wanting to immediately jump into anything intimate.

“I’m sure he would like to see you, as well.” Now that you know there is an attraction there, you would not deny them time together, just as the prince has not denied you time to be with Raeden.

“That remains up to your lover, much like it is up to you.” He strolls with you down the hall, smirking at the sight of a large breasted, giggling redhead dashing towards one of the rooms farther down from yours.

Inside the rooms that are designated as yours and the prince’s, Ellaria is sprawled out with a sheet of parchment and quill in her hands, both of which she disregards entirely when Oberyn appears in the doorway. “Lover,” she smiles broadly and rises from the bed elegantly to embrace him. “How was your walk?”

Like everything in Oberyn’s life, he embraces his lover with a passion that would have you believe it has been years since they have been together rather than hours. His mouth slots against hers hungrily and he slides his tongue against hers for a long moment before he pulls away. “It was perfect.” He hums, turning his head towards you with a smile. “The princess has excellent taste.”

“Is that so, Beauty?” Ellaria hums and leaves a kiss on each of your cheeks. “You must have impressed him.”

“We…” Your cheeks burn at the attention, but you clear your throat as Cal comes into the room and deposits your things on the table before leaving again. “I found something for you. That I truly hope you like.”

“For me?” Her kohl lined smokey eyes widen and she does not know to look pleased or shocked that you thought of her while you were with the prince, your husband. “That is incredibly generous of you.” She muses, stepping closer and caressing your cheek with an amused smile. “Buying my affections, Princess?” She teases. “There is no need.”

“It is a token of appreciation…and affection.” It is becoming increasingly clear to you that Ellaria makes you nervous not because she is so impressive and confident – though she is – but because you are attracted to her.

“I accept any and all tokens.” She leans in and hovers her lips over yours but does not kiss you. “You are most generous.”

“You have more than earned my appreciation.” The pull is far too great not to close the distance between you, but the kiss only lasts for a moment before you part again with your skin on fire. “I will wake Raeden and we will give you your gifts.”

Ellaria steps back from you and finds Oberyn’s side, watching with speechless interest as you disappear behind the door to your chambers. “That was unexpected.” She murmurs, reaching up to touch her lips.

******

“My love?” When you push open the door to the chamber you have been sharing with Raeden, there is little light to be found. He has lit no candles and left the curtains closed, so perhaps he truly has slept the afternoon away. “Are you awake, Rae?”

Raeden groans softly, turning onto his side and his eyes flutter open, only to see dim light. “My love?” He croaks out, raspy from sleep. “Here.”

“Returned to you safe and sound, as promised.” He must have been far more exhausted than you thought, making you feel all the more guilty for fighting with him earlier today. Setting yourself down on the edge of the mattress, you lean over to dust kisses across his cheek and lips. “Sleep, darling. I am sorry to wake you.”

“No.” He shakes his head and lifts himself to his elbow with a groan and a yawn. “If I sleep much longer, I will not sleep tonight.” He frowns. “Unless it is night now?”

“It is nearly dusk. I am afraid we were gone longer than I expected.” In truth, all you had thought was for a stroll down the market lane. Your adventure had been far, far better than that. “There is food and wine in the other room. Perhaps…we might spend some time with the four of us together?”

“Of course.” He will always do what you wish to do. He is wearing his drawers when he crawls out of the bed and stretches. He hadn’t felt comfortable stripping down again after the earlier confrontation since he would be here alone with Ellaria. “Let me get dressed.”

“The prince’s gift for you should arrive tonight.” It is his to give, and you won’t spoil the surprise if he intends it to be one, but you still smile while Raeden dresses. “It is…well, I hope that you like it as much as I think you will.”

“He…got me a gift?” He is pulling on his undershirt when he freezes, his head whipping around to stare at you in confusion. “Why?”

"Because he is fond of you." You can certainly venture that far, offering him a reassuring look. "And because you are my soulmate, and a good man. Those are all excellent reasons."

“He should not have.” He frowns slightly, aware that he has very few coins to buy gifts for anyone. His belongings had been in his trunk when it was delivered but his coin purse was far lighter than he had remembered it being.

"There is something for all of us, my love." Seeing the anxiety on his face, you stand again and reach to hold both of his hands in yours. "He does not expect anything in return. It is a gesture, that is all. For all of us."

“Your husband is a generous man.” He is aware that there is no way he could afford to keep you here, safe and belly full. He is grateful that the Prince has seen fit to be a benevolent man to you and your lover.

"You deserve to be treasured." And although it is not always easy for him to believe, you will tell him so every day. "Come, my love. Finish dressing and we will feed you. You must be ravenous."

“Of course.” He will want to come to be where you are. Especially since you mentioned food. It has been some time since he has eaten, since he was asleep.

The prince is handing coins to a stout young man delivering a package when you and Raeden come back into their room, and you are glad to see that Raeden's ring has arrived without trouble. There are bowls and platters of all manner of Dornish delights spread out along the table for enjoyment and Ellaria is enjoying a plate of comforting food with pleasure. "It appears everything has been delivered."

“It has.” Oberyn looks very pleased as he gestures towards the table of food. “While we ate some already, let us indulge more with our lovers.”

"You already know I cannot say no to sweet delights." There is an entire bowl of the honey-soaked pastries that you had indulged in at the stall. The merchant must have noted your obvious enjoyment of them.

He chuckles and picks up a pastry when he joins you beside the table. “Then we will have to make sure you have something sweet every meal.”

"He is extremely pleased with something that has happened today," Ellaria assesses, knowing Oberyn's moods as well as her own after so long together. "You must have enjoyed yourselves thoroughly."

“We went to find gifts.” Oberyn purrs. “There is one gift that is a matching set, for you and the princess and one day I will have you both model it for me.”

"Oh?" Ellaria hums her approval. "It must be very salacious if you are so excited to see them worn."

He smirks, aware that his lover is very versed in his tastes. He sets down the box that was just delivered and moves to the one you and he had brought to open it and pulls out the packets with the necklaces. “Just them lover.”

The identical multi-strand necklaces are beautifully crafted, and Ellaria sighs in delight as she pulls hers out of the wrapping and holds it up in the firelight. "Lover, it is stunning," she coos honestly before her eyes slide over to you. "When your princess is ready we will wear them together. It will be a beautiful sight."

“Yes it will.” His eyes shift from his lover as he strokes her arm to your Raeden. “Ser Raeden and I will be hard as stone taking in the beauty of you and the princess wearing nothing but these golden chains on your skin.”

Raeden's cheeks burn but he does not deny it, looking between the two people across from him before his eyes move back to you. "You are stunning in everything, my love," he answers diplomatically. "Any ornament pales in comparison the two beauties at this table."

“A poet.” Oberyn’s eyes flash in surprised delight and he hums. “Perhaps I shall give you your trinket next?” He looks to you to see what you think about this.

"It is hardly a trinket, but yes. Please do." You nod approvingly and sit back, hoping that Raeden will love the gift like you think he will.

He’s a man who gives gifts often to those he loves, but he does not love Raeden. He wants the man, he wants you and your lover in his bed but he has not yet formed the attachment to him that seems to be so easy with you. Still he had wanted to gift Raeden something to show the man his place, that Oberyn was not going to send him away from your side. “Ser Raeden, your lover told me your full name and I decide that my Princess’s lover, her soulmate should wear something both honorable and intimate.”

"Then you know who my father is." It is not a common name, and unmistakable to a noble with such a vast knowledge of the nobles of Westeros. If you had told the prince his full name, then Raeden has no doubt that the prince knows whose bastard he is.

“I do.” Oberyn nods seriously. “Which is why I know the sword you carry is a gift. I should have recognized the sea horse in the handle before now.” It’s subtle and small, but visible when you are looking for it. Raeden had left his sword in his rooms when he went to sleep while you walked with your husband.

"He did the best he thought he could for me." Though it was not always perfect, at least he had some connection. To the man himself and to his family. They knew he existed, which is more than many bastards can say.

“I know about bastards.” He knows that he is luckier than most, all his bastard children are accepted, loved. He would tolerate nothing less than that. “Yet the next time you send your father a letter….” Oberyn reaches for the box and hands it to him. “Seal your missive with this, if it is your desire to do so.”

Raeden opens the box with tentative fingers, curious as to precisely what might be inside. There is a small cushion inside and the glint of gold atop it and Raeden looks up at the prince curiously before reaching in to the little wooden square to extract an intricately carved gold signet ring. The carving bears the image of a sword hilt extending out of a stone, some of the blade exposed to make the image all the more dramatic. Engraved in the band, the letters RMS are intertwined beautifully and delicately, making him gasp quietly. "My lord..." he looks up at the prince with awe. "This symbol. Is it Dornish?"

“It is your symbol.” Oberyn tells him. “Your sword from your father and the stone to signify your lineage.” He clasps his hands on the other man’s shoulders. “You bear no shame of being a bastard in Dorne and your signet should be worn with pride.”

"You cannot mean..." There is water in Raeden's eyes when he looks over at you and then back at the prince, trying to fully understand what has just happened. "Your Highness it is...it is more than I could have dreamt." His own signet and his own symbol is tantamount to having his own House. It legitimizes him in a different way – not as the son of his father but as the beginning of his own lineage. It is an act of graciousness that frees him in a way that could not be imagined and he looks to you again with wide eyes. "My love, did—"

"It was Oberyn's idea," you tell him honestly, seeing the way he is so overcome with emotion. "I suggested something for you to use in your correspondence. The symbol was of his own creation."

“Lover.” Ellaria is soft, melting into Oberyn’s side as he watches the man try to compose himself and nearly fail at it. He understands why this is so emotional to him and he turns his head to look at Ellaria before back at Raeden. “Your sons will bear your symbol.” He decides. “Under the Dornish banner.”

Swallowing fresh tears, Raeden squeezes his eyes shut before extending his hand to the prince in gratitude. "I will endeavor to deserve it with every breath I take, my prince." This gift is far more than a trinket. It is a future. A future at the hands of the man who has married his soulmate. Fate is very strange indeed.

The prince takes Raeden’s hand, jerking him towards his body to clasp his arm around him in a fierce embrace. “I know you will.”

Having nothing like Raeden's restraint, you have been sitting to his side with silent tears streaming down your face and you wipe them now to move closer to your soulmate and offer him a kiss. This is a moment of pride and you know he has desired something like this for his entire life.

Oberyn steps back from your lover, allowing you this moment together. Your history is far longer than his own brief one with the man. Ellaria cups his cheek and turns his head towards her so he can be gifted with a kiss of his own. “You did a wonderful thing, lover.” She whispers against his lips.

Raeden turns the ring over twice more in his hand before fitting it to his finger, overwhelmed and beaming with such unexpected pride at wearing his own symbol. At having his own symbol. A knight in service to a prince with his own lineage to begin. That is an extremely remarkable thing.

“It is not so very momentous,” you murmur after the pause, picking up the small box that contains Ellaria’s gift. “But this is my thanks to you.”

Letting go of her lover to take the box, Ellaria hums and her eyes find yours. “I already know it will be beautiful.” She declares. “In everyone’s eyes, you are Oberyn’s wife and could easily pretend I do not exist.” Oberyn would never allow that to happen, but some other woman could try. So it is only fair to acknowledge that, the way you acknowledge her lover's generosity to Raeden.

“You are his soulmate.” It is every bit as important as being his wife. Arguably more so, and you reach across the table to squeeze her hand gently in yours for a brief moment. “And the mother of four of his daughters. You have been the most important woman in his life for many years. And I am grateful to you for accepting and welcoming my presence. I know that if you did not, things between all of us would be very different.”

“They would.” Ellaria knows this and she smiles at you as she opens the small box and looks down. Biting her lip when she sees a small flash of gold wrapped in cloth. Reaching down and pulling it out, she sighs softly and smiles. “It is beautiful.” She murmurs, admiring the ring before looking back at you.

“I thought it only fitting, considering you gave me your ring at the Citadel.” The expression on her face is one of true appreciation and perhaps even happiness, and it warms you through completely to see it.

“I will be proud to wear it.” She sets the box down and slides the ring on her finger before she reaches for you. Pulling you in for another brief kiss to show her affection.

There is a comfort in it this time, something warm and welcoming, and you are smiling when you sit back again. “There is something for you, as well,” you remind your husband, knowing that the last two remaining boxes are your gifts to each other. The things that you had selected separately as surprises.

“Yes.” Oberyn smiles as he moves towards the box once more to pluck out your ring. “A wife should always have a gift from her husband.” He does not actually know about what a wife should or shouldn’t have, but he will treat you as he has his lover.

It is an elaborate thing. Shimmering stones that twinkle in the candlelight like stars surround the milky center stone, and you gasp softly to see the way it seems to grow ever more brilliant from every angle you examine it. “It is beyond words,” you murmur, looking back up at him. It slips onto your finger so easily that it truly seems meant for you. “I will treasure it always.”

Oberyn nods, pleased that you approve of his gift to you. Smiling as you admire it on your hand. Each one having a ring on it.

The moment lingers, as does the sentiment, and you get up from your seat to step around the table. Perhaps the pull between you is only imagined since your vows and perhaps it is not, but either way it is strong. You lean over at his side to give your husband a kiss, murmuring thanks to him softly.

“You are welcome, Princess.” He winks at you. “You deserve to be adorned in all manner of beautiful things.”

“I would say that you deserve the same, but you have already ensured that for yourself,” you tell him, offering Ellaria a smile before you move the box in front of him. Only his ring remains. “The last is for you, husband.”

Oberyn takes the box and looks at you in curiosity before he opens it. The ring makes his brow furrow and he picks it up to examine it. “How intriguing.” He hums as he starts to fiddle with it.

Ellaria and Raeden lean in to watch his fingers work the knotted metal, only for all three of them to look delighted when the pieces finally fall into place and reveal the design of intertwined snakes. You are all but holding your breath, hoping he will like the unconventional jewel, but the way he examines it with such care bodes well.

Oberyn’s chuckle is delighted as he sees the emerged pattern. Grinning at you when he can tear his eyes from the ring, he reaches for you. “Princess, I will wear it always.” He decides as he pulls you in for a kiss to thank you.

The warm moment does not make Raeden’s stomach twist the same way it would have yesterday. The emotions that he was determined not to allow to rule him are not as heightened with all of the revelations that have come to light today, and the burden of his own blood is eased by the ring he now wears. Such a small thing, but with so much meaning.

“I am glad you like it.” His kiss floods you with pride and pleasure, and you cannot help but smile broadly. “The merchant’s own wife designed it, he said. He was very proud to think you would wear it.”

“I am called the Red Viper.” He muses, stealing another quick, yet passionate kiss before he pulls away to put the ring on. “It is fascinating to see how it comes together.”

“It is one of the few things I knew about you before meeting you.” It fits his finger well, and you are glad to see him so happy with the choice. “Your color is red, and the other stone is blue…like my own House’s banner. It felt appropriate.”

“A perfect choice for a newly made match.” He assures you, reaching out with the hand that has your ring on it to caress your cheek. “I will carry a piece of you where I go.”

“And I you.” And how glad that makes you is something that settles over you like a warm blanket.

“This is a welcomed outcome.” Ellaria hums, smiling at Raeden. “We will have to exchange tokens of affection later.” She decides with a playful wink.

“It seems so.” He does not blush, truly, but he does feel the warmth in his cheeks under her gaze. Desire is a powerful feeling and this is a most powerful desire. “Perhaps,” he swallows the nerves that plague him, watching you with your husband. Be it the remains of jealousy or something new and bold in him, he looks back to Ellaria. “We could take our own walk? Some time?” He cannot buy her precious baubles, but he cannot deny wanting to spend time with her.

Her brow arches and there is a sense of the cat who got the cream reflected in the curve of her lips. “I would love to stroll through wherever with a handsome and kind man such as yourself.” She nods. “It will be good for all of us to become social, I believe.”

"It will give us a chance to know each other better." He ventures, seeing the glint in her eyes.

“I always enjoy getting to know handsome men better.” She purrs, stepping closer to your lover and laying her hand on his chest before looking at you. “As much as I do beautiful women.”

"That is..." Tearing your attention from the prince, you look back to Raeden and smile gently when he nods. "That is something that we have agreed that we would like to explore," you tell both Ellaria and your husband with equal seriousness. "Our disagreement ended with some things coming to light that have put us both more at ease with our desires."

“Oh?” She can guess what the root of the problems were, but she will not voice those opinions until you share them with her. As free as she is with her own affections and ideas of love, not everyone is.

"Sometimes the things that we were taught and the things that we feel are not always the same." You know that Ellaria understands you, her eyes are full of understanding as she nods. "Sometimes the ferocity of anger and fear is necessary to see the errors we have made in our own minds."

“Yes.” She nods, looking back at you seriously. “As free as Oberyn and I are, we would never overstep.” She assures you with a soft smile before looking back up at Raeden.

"Life has changed swiftly around us." Raeden acknowledges, for the first time, allowing himself to be caught in admiring her. To simply exist in the moment. "To change with it might be freeing."

Ellaria hums and despite your own shared kisses with her that were not permissible, she reaches up and cups your lover’s cheek carefully. “May I kiss you?”

It would be the first time since he saw his mark on your thigh that he has shared intimacy with any other person, but he nods as he holds back his own nerves about this bold step forward. Whatever claim Ellaria Sand has on him, it began the night the three of you met at that tavern and has taken deep root without regard for restriction or restraint.

“Thank you, lover.” She hums quietly, raising up on her toes as her hand slides behind his neck to press her lips to his.

It is certainly not the polite, chaste first kiss that you exchanged with the prince at the Citadel, and the way it seems to envelope all of Raeden's senses is a heady, dizzying feeling. She fits into his side and against him so well that he could deceive himself into thinking she belonged there if he gave it too much thought.

Oberyn watches the kiss develop before turning to observe how you feel about watching your lover and his kiss.

It is odd, because by all accounts you should be jealous. You should despise seeing Raeden so thoroughly kiss another woman. But you surprise yourself by smiling. "They look well together." Is what you end up whispering to him, finding that once again you truly want only what will make Raeden happy. If that means that he visits Ellaria and shares his bed with her? He has said it does not mean he loves you any less, and you believe him.

“Yes they do.” His own smile curves his lips, his hold on you tightening slightly. “They will be a vision of sweaty limbs and cries of pleasure when the time comes.” He predicts. “Have you ever watched your lover pleasure himself, Princess?”

“Sometimes.” The question makes you bite your lip as you fight self-consciousness. “We have rarely had that much leisure time in our encounters, you explain, watching now as Raeden’s hand slides across Ellaria’s back. “The first morning here was the first time we have been able to wake up in each other’s arms.”

“Watching your lover touch another is very much like watching him pleasure himself.” He leans in and whispers. “Often when I see Ellaria with another, my cock is aching.”

“It is appealing to you…to watch them.” It does not need to be a question, because you can see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice. The arousal makes his tone huskier as it darkens his eyes.

“Yes it is.” He hums. “Just like I would like to see you and your lover together.” He has thought about that and honestly never imagined an opportunity for it to happen, but perhaps now it is not so out of reach.

“I have never…been observed before.” It had been, along with your experiences with Brynna, something too shameful to speak about. But if your first lover being a woman was not so wrong, then perhaps neither are some of the other desires that you have been denying.

“If you wish it, watching you sit upon your lover’s cock would be a thrilling experience.” He hums. “One of Ellaria’s most favored things is to have her cunt licked while she is on my cock if we have another in our bed.”

The way you have to shut your eyes immediately to call yourself to order means that you have to miss the moment that Raeden and Ellaria break from each other. Desire hangs heavy between them like most air in the hottest days of summer, and their hands grasp tightly to each other.

Raeden pants and his lips tingle, his cock tenting his breeches from how hard he is. Almost wishing that he had worn the robes that Oberyn had given him, it would have covered his reaction to kissing the Prince’s paramour.

“If you fuck and fight as well as you kiss, you may be Oberyn’s favoured man in many ways,” Ellaria praises, keeping the hand on Raeden’s chest curl into his shirt to keep him close.

His eyes flutter and his cock twitches. “I would like to show you.” He admits, voicing his wants more quickly and freely than he had ever admitted before or ever thought of admitting.

“What does our princess think of that?” Ellaria looks to you with curiosity, ready to take Raeden to bed at a word but not if it will cause more issue.

“Of—” In truth you had almost lost full faculty of yourself from the images that the prince was painting in your mind, but you manage to steady yourself. “What do I think of…?” To your utter surprise, what you feel is glad for Raeden. “I cannot think of anyone I trust to treat my soulmate with as much care as I would.”

Raeden’s eyes widen in surprise. Despite the conversation, he had honestly thought you might protest. His gaze slides over to Oberyn, who hums and nods. “She is not shy about what she likes.” He promises the other man. “And she will suck your soul out through your cock with her talented mouth.”

“I want for you to be happy, my love,” you remind him. A soft kiss across the table is very different from the one he just shared with Ellaria but that is because you are different women.

“I love you.” He reminds you. “It does not change that.” He never wants you to think that his love for you could wane because of spending time with another.

“No. It does not. Nor does it change my love for you.” You clasp his hand before sitting down again. “Enjoy yourselves, my love. When I hear Ellaria’s cries of pleasure tonight I know I will be in complete agreement with her about your talents.”

Raeden's chest puffs out slightly, proud of your favorable view on his talents even if he is wary of how he will measure up to the Prince and the numerous lovers Ellaria has had. "Come lover." She takes his hand and smirks salaciously at the two of you. "Let us adjourn to the other room and I will find out firsthand if mounting that cock of yours is as pleasurable as I imagined when we bathed together."

“They will enjoy their night thoroughly.” You do not have any trouble believing that as the door shuts behind them.

"Now..." Oberyn hums thoughtfully as he watches the door close and he turns towards you. "We just need to decide how we will be enjoying our night." He says with a small smirk. "Indulge in reading, perhaps?" He offers playfully, though he knows that if you were not willing to fuck him, he would not protest.

“At first, perhaps?” There is a certain pleasure in being read to, but it is not what is at the front of your mind right now. “But…perhaps there might be other indulgences to be had?”

"What indulgences are you interested in, princess?" Oberyn demands, lifting his hand to your cheek and letting his fingers drift down your throat and over your collarbone. "I think I should buy you more dresses." He hates that you are wearing one of your dresses from the Vale. Too much skin covered for his liking. "Sheer ones. Flowing and letting the warm sun kiss your skin like a lover." He smirks. "Easier to disrobe."

“We can call for a seamstress tomorrow, if you wish it.” There was a dressmaker at the market today that you noticed had excellent wares, and your mind drifts momentarily to wondering if she could make something that combined the things you found comfortable and your dresses from home with the more freeing things the prince enjoys about the garments of his homeland. For now, though, you tilt your head at him. “I hope this dress will not be too difficult for you to remove? It is one of my favorites.”

"May I remove your dress?" He asks, arching a perfectly crafted brow. "See the body of my wife in her full glory and touch her?" He rasps out. "Make her cry out and shake in pleasure and fill her with my cock? Fuck her until she is limp with exhaustion and her body tingles, never to forget my touch."

Each and every time he postulates in such graphic terms, you feel your whole body turn burning hot with desire that you had been clouding over with embarrassment. Not knowing how to understand your own feelings, you had denied them. Now, as you hear Ellaria giggle and moan for the first time in the room next to you, you will attempt to simply allow yourself to want him. To want this. “Yes.” Your nod is more confident than your voice, but they are united in their message. “Take me to bed, husband.”

“Perfect.” Oberyn’s smile is anticipation and desire fused together and he steps around you to work on the laces of your dress. He is an expert in lady’s dresses and yet the only reason he does not pull his dagger to cut through the ribbons keeping the fabric on your body is because you had told him it is a favorite. “No more of this.” He vows, Finding another layer of laces and cloth beneath the dress. “It will be far too heavy in Dorne.”

“I will save it for if we ever visit my brothers.” Having him touch you even a little – even through layers of fabric – is like being burned in a wholly desirable way. “Or perhaps a seamstress can make it appropriate for Dorne. For the heat, and for the eager hands of my prince.”

“You will be free in the silks of Dorne.” He assures you. “Sliding over your skin like a lover’s hand. “Flowing around your legs and giving your lovers teasing glances of your body.”

“You and Raeden would have me in as little as possible.” When his fingers finally find the bare skin of your back you nearly gasp.

“Naked would be preferable.” He agrees. “I am a simple man.” There is nothing simple about Oberyn Martell but he manages to say it without chuckling.

“I doubt that.” Though it does make you smile as you look over your shoulder at him.

He does chuckle at that, bending down slightly so he can press his lips to your shoulders as he starts to push your dress down to pool at your feet. “Desire and lust are very simple.”

The heavy, structured dress barely deflates around you, but billows when it hits the stone floor to leave you in your stays and thin shift. It is more layers, more covering, and despite having been bare in a bath with him just yesterday you feel positively exposed.

“If you want to stop, you tell me.” Oberyn watches as your shoulders round slightly.

“Being nervous does not stop me from wanting this.” It does, though, make you turn around to face him. “I do want this, I promise you.”

Oberyn reaches out to capture the back of your neck, dragging you closer to kiss you like he had kissed Ellaria earlier. Passionate enough to steal his breath as he passes it to you.

To be so utterly intoxicated by him is disarming still, but tonight you welcome it. Passion as you have only experienced with one other person seems to soak into every aspect of your being. The strokes of his tongue against yours are equally coaxing and demanding, making you gasp into his mouth and quake in his arms as though you had never been touched at all.

As he kisses you, his hands slide up and own your body, blindly working your stays until the material falls off your waist and he pulls it off your body. Gathering the material of your shift up in his hands, he starts to pull it up over your hips.

It takes so little to bare yourself to him, and yet when he leans back from kissing you to take in the full sight, it feels as though you have laid the world out for him. Your world. The greatest gift you have to give is yourself, for better or worse, and this time your hands are on him instead of hiding your body from view.

"Beautiful." Oberyn praises, his hands reaching for his belt, eager to unknot it and to be as bare as you are. The need to touch you has been building since the day that you first met and even if it has not been but three days since then, it seems as if it has been a lifetime.

His garments are much simpler than yours, despite being more sumptuous, and you watch with breathless attention as he pulls open ties and buttons to rid himself of every piece. The next time you will do everything yourself without him even needing to lift a finger.

His boots are kicked off and his breeches unlaced, Oberyn looks back at you. Dark eyes roaming over your body and he smirks. "Go lay down, princess. Spread your legs and show me your beautiful cunt."

The sprawling bed is more than enough room for the two of you, and his dark eyes on you would be enough to compel you there even if his throaty voice was not so commanding. While normally you would object to being given orders, the tenor of the prince's voice when what he wants is within reach makes your pussy drip.

Your thighs spread and Oberyn groans as he sees the glistening sheen of your cunt lips coated in arousal. His own hardening cock twitching and he swaggers towards the bed with his breeches still on for a closer look.

It must be what deer feel like under a hunter's eye, but no deer has ever laid out for their hunter so easily. He knows precisely what he wants and how to achieve it, and your chest heaves, imagining this man lowering his mouth to you.

"You are like a shining star." He praises, reaching down and pushing his breeches down so he can kick them off. His cock juts up proudly and he kneels on the bed, eager to join you and touch you.

"It is hard not to feel like one when you shower me with such praise." You reach for him, already wanting him as close as can be.

Kneeling on the bed, he smirks and starts crawling towards you. "You want to consummate our vows, princess?" He asks with a growl.

"Gods...yes." He prowls closer and you seem to melt immediately in response. Breathless and covered in gooseflesh from wave after wave of arousal, if you were not already laying down you might have dropped to your knees at that question.

"I am glad you are not a shy, virginal miss." He admits, kneeling between your thighs and sliding his hands up your thighs. "So you are not shocked when I do this." He drops his head down and dives into your cunt with his tongue.

The ferocity of his resolve has your head dropping back to the pillow and a whimper crossing your lips immediately. Every encounter you have ever had has been clandestine and your own sounds of passion have always been muffled because of it. The idea that you do not have to hold back tonight is making your mind spin as much as anything else. Your knees draw up to your chest and your back arches, your body undulating with pleasure beneath him and your hands twist in the sheets on either side of you. A virginal miss you are not, but he is still only the third lover ever to touch or taste you in this way.

As much as Oberyn likes to receive pleasure, he also likes to give pleasure. Some might think it's his ego or reputation that makes him focus on his lover, but it's the sounds they make. Pulled from them by the flick of his tongue, the curl of his fingers or the thrust of his cock. "Hmmmm." He groans as he looks up at you and smirks at the rapturous look on your face as he devours your cunt.

There is no tentative exploration, no time spent delicately mapping the dips and dimples of your skin. There is only the fervent and greedy sounds of Oberyn's tongue spearing into your pussy as your soft sounds of pleasure grow slowly but steadily louder. His hands squeeze and grope your hips and thighs, coaxing you to start rolling your hips against his face. He pulls his lips away to smack them. "Enjoying yourself, princess?"

"My–" A gasp passes your lips when he licks a stripe up the length of your slit. "My husband is very p–pleased with himself." Even teasing him comes out stammered as your whole body shakes with every stroke of his talented tongue.

"Very pleased, wife." He chuckles before he reapplies himself to making your cunt cream and quiver with pleasure while you shout his name. In part to show you what he is capable of when you visit his bed, but mostly because he wanted to taste you. So he is.

The first time your hand strikes out to steady yourself against him it is a very odd sort of revelation. Raeden has never had hair on his head for as long as you have known him, and you were careful not to dislodge a single strand on Brynna's head for fear of discovery. But now? This is your husband. And a man who has made his fame as a lover, no less. So when your fingers find his hair by accident you let them explore, wondering if the prince will enjoy such a sensation.

Oberyn groans while your nails scratch against his scalp, eyes fluttering as his tongue swirls even faster. You have discovered his love of having his hair played with and his fingers dig into your hips.

"Gods." The more you explore the more he dedicates himself to his task, and your voice cracks as it raises. That familiar feeling of a knot twining around itself in your belly is building like a wildfire and you cry out wordlessly.

When you start to cry out, Oberyn is instantly addicted to the sound. Sucking your clit into his mouth, his chin gets soaked in a flood of your cum as your cunt spasms around nothing. This bliss is not unfamiliar, but it comes with an intensity this time that has you shaking and arching off of the mattress. With the freedom to be vocal you very well might cry yourself hoarse but for pleasure like this it will be exquisitely worthwhile.

He loves how your cries ring in his ears, very different from the quiet moans that he had barely heard the first night that you had stayed here. Your wedding night. Now it's loud and telling everyone who passes by that you are being pleasured in here.

When the dam breaks you feel every inch of your body tense up, spasming tightly so that even your fingers twine into his hair with fervor. The crashing waves of pleasure turn the world blank around you until you soften, going limp against the bed and sighing with the first breath you've taken since you started cumming.

Oberyn pulls his lips off your clit with a smug, satisfied smile as he watches you try to catch your breath with a soft puff of air. "Did your husband disappoint?"

"Of course not." If you could move you would be crawling down to him to return the affection but you will need at least a moment or three before you are anything but limp. "I knew you would not."

"Good." He purrs, smirking and he drops a kiss on your hip before he climbs up your body. Dropping another kiss on your lips before he caresses your cheek and shifts to lay down beside you.

The taste of your own arousal from his lips has you humming again, drawn to him and rolling over to your side to stay close to him. Your hand wanders tentatively, tracing the muscles of his chest and arms dreamily. "Are all women so similar that you know our bodies by instinct?"

"Years of practice." Oberyn chuckles, as he runs a finger down your arm and then around your nipple, looking down and watching it stiffen even more from the gentle pressure.

Your breathing turns shallow all over again, your back finding that familiar arch to chase the soft sensation of his touch. As if following it could make it more firm. "You have learned your skills well."

"Yes?" He smirks as the nipple tights even more, gooseflesh breaking out over your flesh. "You enjoy my touch, wife?" He asks softly. "You are not just enduring my touch?"

"I would never have endured any unwanted touch." That was a promise that you had made to yourself, but now you shake your head and inch closer to him on the bed. "I...cannot explain why I have felt as drawn to you as I am. But perhaps it is lucky."

"Many have been lucky." He admits, deciding that he is done teasing your nipple and he pinches it, rolling it in his fingers just harshly enough to make your breath hitch.

The feeling is sharp, shooting directly between your legs and making you shiver. "I have no trouble believing that you have entranced anyone you have ever crossed paths with."

"I wanted you from the first time we met." He confesses easily, watching you with dark eyes as he continues to pinch and pluck at your breast. "Your spine. Your defiance."

"I am far less defiant after cumming," you laugh softly. Spine, though, you have. In this moment it comes in the form of cupping your hand over his, showing him the much rougher pressure you prefer to be touched with. Featherlight touches are pleasurable to begin with, but the mornings you are sore after taking Raeden are always your favorite.

Humming delightly, he is thrilled that his lady wife is not the prim and proper miss he had feared. You like a rougher touch. "You like a little bit of pain with your pleasure, star?" He growls. "How do you like to be fucked, princess? Should I have Raeden come in here and show me?"

That suggestion conjures an image that makes you whine instinctively. Allowing yourself to accept these desires you once considered sinful encompasses more than you might have been willing to admit to yourself. "Raeden is sometimes afraid to hurt me," you admit. Though other times his passion knows no bounds. "I..." A gasp passes your lips again when his fingers twist your pebbled bud sharply. "I think...to be wanted as a woman is more pleasurable than to be worshiped on a pedestal."

"You like it rough?" His eyes flash and he leaps up to his knees to reach down and grab you by the elaborate braid that your hair is tied up in. He pulls you up, not harshly enough to hurt you but enough that you hiss.

The initial sharp sound from the back of your throat is nothing compared to the next – a vocal moan that would embarrass you if you were not so intrigued by the prince's seeming glee at this revelation. "I want to know what it is like," you tell him, chest heaving even at the thought.

"I had thought to take you slow, sweet." He admits, holding your hair and wrapping his hand around it. "But now I think the princess would like to be treated like a whore." He taunts with a grin. "So I will fuck you on your knees until your arms give out."

"You are pleased with this?" The depth of the rumble in his voice says he is, and the way he bends your back with your hair tight in his grasp. If this is how it felt to him to have your fingers in his hair a few moments ago, you fully understand how much he enjoyed it.

His cock presses against your ass as he positions you how he wants you, spreading your knees farther apart than normal, pushing you low to the bed. The smear of precum dribbles across your ass and he twitches when you moan again. "I do." He grunts. "You will look good, exhausted and dripping my cum."

The cool air washes across your skin and raises gooseflesh all over again. The way he has you positioned means your cheek is pressed into the mattress and your cunt is on full display while he takes in the view of you. "I think it will be harder to exhaust me than you expect."

"You do, hmmm?" He smirks wickedly and raises the hand that is not wrapped up in your hair. Bringing it down sharply on your ass.

"Ah!" The sound could be mistaken for pain if he was not looking at you, but the way you squirm and roll your hips back to him to ask for more is very obvious. That cry was pleasure and pain combined, the very way you hoped it would feel.

"You would not doubt me if you had been paying attention to the cries of pleasure last night." He hums, slapping your ass once, twice, three more times one right after the other.

It was not the time to listen last night, it would have angered or frustrated you rather than proving any other kind of point. But instead of saying so, you whimper eagerly and try to look over your shoulder at him. His hold on you is too tight to allow it and somehow that is even more arousing. "Prove it to me."

He puffs up his chest, his grip of your hair even tighter with the way you twist your head. With his cock, firmly in his hand, he pulls back the foreskin that covers the sensitive tip and he pushes his hips closer to line up and sink into your cunt without warning or any pause until he is buried completely in your warmth.

"GODS." He feels thicker than Raeden once he is inside you, making it not matter in the least that the prince's cock is not quite as long. Your whole body seems to shift to accommodate him and when you moan again it is pleading. More. More of this. It is exactly what you want.

He gives you long enough to cry out to the seven before he is pulling his hips back. Barely giving you time to miss the feeling of him inside you before he is snapping his hips forward and filling you again.

It is a feeling so sharp and dizzying that you are glad to be pressed into the bed with your ass in the air or else your mind might spin. The brutal pace he sets has you sobbing in pleasure and moaning at the sharp pull on your scalp. The bed creaks beneath you, and though there is no headboard to bang against the wall the frame certainly knocks against stone with every thrust.

The hand in your hair serves to keep you near, using it as if he were holding the reins and riding a horse. The swings of his hips slap against your ass and he watches your body bounce and jolt from the force of his thrusts. "You feel me now, princess." He hisses, gritting his teeth and increasing his pace.

You can feel nothing but him, and the overwhelming sensations are flooding your body to make you crave that same rough touch everywhere. While one arm braces you on the mattress, your other hand kneads your breasts and pinches harshly at your nipples, giving yourself the extra sensations your body is seeking.

Oberyn growls watching you and approving of you taking your pleasure for yourself. Once you are used to being in his bed, he will have someone bite and suck your nipples while he fucks you.

The great cacophony of sounds overtakes everything else. Every sense is his, every sound and sinful scent. The grip of his hand on your hip is bruising and you relish it, hoping to ache there tomorrow as surely as you will ache between your thighs. The prince’s talent has not been exaggerated, not at all, and you are climbing that peak to pleasure again more quickly than you ever thought possible.

Oberyn rides you hard, the slap of skin filling the room, sweat glistening on his skin. He changes the pace, instead of hard and fast, it's hard and deep. He makes sure that you feel every fat inch of his cock as he pummels it into you, your back arching at every thrust when he bottoms out.

When your second peak washes over you it is more like the crashing of a great wave on the ocean. It comes with a cry of his name – perhaps now the fourth time you have ever said it and this time you feel as though it is the only word you have in you. Your body locks down on him, drawing his cock as deep inside you as you possibly can while you spasm beneath him, all the while praying for more.

As soon as your grasping cunt relaxes around him, he pulls free, letting go of your hair as he rolls you onto your back and shuffles his way between your thighs again. His cock bounces, dripping with your release and still rock hard since he has not found his own pleasure yet.

Instinct and want give way to all else tonight, and when you push up on shaky arms to kiss him it is a devouring thing that demands to be known. Your own attraction has cracked and become hunger and you will not apologize to anyone for it anymore. Not even yourself.

If he’s surprised by the ferocity of your kiss, he does not allow it to be seen. Matching it, battling with your mouth even as he is pushing his cock back through your folds and impaling you once again. Swallowing your gasp of air as he fills you again.

Being under him in any way is wonderful, you have decided, as his renewed thrusts crush you to the mattress again with a force that speaks of desire that easily equals your own. This time your arms and legs twine around him to keep his deep thrusts close and encourage him to grind his hips as far into your body as he can.

Braced above you, Oberyn's necklace swings between you as he rocks his hips forward. Crashing them into yours over and over as he grunts and groans when your cunt flutters and squeezes him.

Like the torrents of a storm-blown sea, every rock of his hips sends you reeling. There is no mercy from his force and at the same time you would not want there to be. Wordless cries from both of you flood the air as your slick bodies move together and you start to feel his thrusts grow steadily less measured.

Oberyn watches you, memorizing your face as you start to come apart underneath him again. Feeling his own end getting closer with every thrust. He shifts, grabbing your hair and pulling you up to crush his lips to yours while he pushes you over the edge again.

It is fortunate that when your body stiffens and pulses for the third time, that your mouth falls open wide instead of clamping shut, or else the slide of his tongue against yours would be cut short quite unfortunately. But instead you cling to him, kept close by his grip and your intertwined bodies, desperate for him to find his own end and feel even a morsel of the pleasure he has given you tonight.

He is desperately close, body tense and every spearing of his cock and his tongue into you is accompanied by the groan that is breathed into your mouth. Only to rip his lips away from yours to groan your name as he thrusts deep one last time and rocks his hips to grind deeper, shooting his spend deep into the hot cavern of your womb.

A deep, comforting silence falls between you as you both work to find your breath again. The only sounds for a long moment are panting and the soft sounds of endless kisses as you both float back down from your peaks together.

"No one can say you aren't properly wed." Oberyn hums cheekily, smirking as he twitches inside you and your walls grip him in reflex. "How do you feel, princess?"

“As though I will still be feeling you tomorrow.” You giggle slightly, feeling the sound come from deep in your chest. “If that is how you fuck your whores, they are all of them very lucky.”

"It is how I fuck anyone that likes it rougher." He hums. "Although I did not go quite as hard as I could have." He admits. He didn't want you to be horrified by it if you were not used to such things.

Your eyes widen slightly but the idea of more, but at the same time it sounds good enough to have you sighing. “I hope you are not too surprised at me. For that to be how we are together the first time.”

Oberyn chuckles and he leans down with a softer kiss before he pulls out of you. His body shifts and he leans on his elbow to gaze down at you with a smile. "There is nothing surprising about our needs, star." He assures you, unable to resist sliding his hand down your body to push your closing thighs back apart so his fingers can be soaked in a combination of your fluids. "It was perfect because it was honest, genuine."

Curled into his side, the fact of his fingers between your legs is an odd comfort. The fact that he is not simply turning over to sleep is not what, apparently, most women receive from their husbands. “Do you enjoy this?” You ask him, looking down at his hand with curiosity. “To feel what has come of pleasure? Wonder if another child has been made?”

"I always enjoy pleasure." He trails his wet fingers over your mound and circles your belly softly, where your womb would possibly one day house his heir. "If your tea has not been drunk, then perhaps a child has been created." His dark eyes find yours, soulful and full of interest. "If a child has been made, would you be proud?"

“I think…I think I would be, yes. Although I would probably cling to Ellaria with nerves.” He knows your apprehensions about childbirth now, and surely understands why you will be glad to have an experienced mother nearby for your confinement. “Although,” you tilt your head at him. “I am curious to know how you know about my tea.”

"There are few methods that are used to prevent children." He smirks and slides his hand back down to dip it back into your cunt to gather more of his seed. "I have brewed tea for my lover, and if you wished, I would brew it for you now." He offers softly, circling your womb again as he looks at you expectantly.

Leaving it up to you is a surprise, but you give the idea real thought now that he has given you the opportunity. The silence lingers, but finally you look up to meet his eyes and shake your head. “Let a babe take root whenever the gods will it. I will grow your heir proudly.” It is a duty, as well as this boundlessly growing affection for him, and you lift your head to kiss him softly. “Thank you for giving me a choice.”

“The choice is always yours, Princess.” He promises you softly, pleased that you are willing to see what the Gods will. It speaks to your growing bond, only three days old and he knows that he is irresistibly drawn to you. Feeling as if you were fated by the seven or the old gods themselves.

Your fingers gently stroke the long line of his cheek and that pull you feel around your heart is beginning to feel undeniable. But you smile, that soft affection lining your face, and lean up to kiss him. “We will let the gods decide, then, when your first heir is born. I will stop drinking my tea for now.”

“If you stop drinking your tea, your Raeden cannot finish inside you.” He reminds you softly. “My named heir will be of my seed.”

“I remember our agreement.” The choice is not one to be taken lightly, but it is of great importance. “It is enough that I might be able to one day bear the children of both the men I treasure. That yours must be first is a matter of more importance than just desire.”

Oberyn nods, his face filled with respect and pride at your decision. “I will not mind you carrying your soulmate’s child.” He promises. “As many as you would wish to have them bred on you.”

“We will see.” It makes him more extraordinary than you can say, that he is so willing to accept Raeden as a part of your life, and instead of trying to form that particular thought you end up kissing him again. “Thank you for what you did for him. To not have a place in his father’s House or a name he can take pride in has caused him great pain through his life. I know it means more than all seven heavens to him.”

“He is a good man.” Oberyn knows that just from his few interactions with the man. “He is honorable and honorable men deserve to feel as if they have a place in this world.”

"You are both good men." you tell him without the intention of brokering a single doubt. "And Ellaria and I are very lucky to have such soulmates."

He smiles, accepting the compliment and nods. “Handsome men.” He adds with a roguish wink.

It does not matter that he is correct – that both he and Raeden are incredibly handsome on their own and that together they present a nearly irresistible pair – you must tease him for it at least a little. "And terribly humble," you add, rolling your eyes for effect.

“Terribly.” He agrees with a grin as he leans down and kisses your jaw right before he nips it with his teeth. “Shall I tell you about all the men and women who want me? Crave my cock and my attention?” He teases. “But I wish to be right here.”

"I have watched every person you pass by fall instantly in love with you in at least some small way, and I have only known you for three days." That he wants to spend time with you is precious enough, you will not waste it with hearing of any others. When he wants to be with them, he will go to them. And if they become important enough in his life, you will surely hear their names and learn their faces. "But I am glad to know that you enjoy the time we spend together."

“I am sure there is more time to come.” Of that he is certain, feeling that it will be important as time goes on.

______

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Oberyn Martell #Oberyn Martell x reader #Oberyn Martell x you #Oberyn Martell x female reader #Oberyn Martell x f!reader #Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand #female reader x m!OC #Ellaria Sand x m!OC #female reader #male OC #Ellaria Sand x female reader #Game of Thrones #soulmate au #arranged marriage #polyamory

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