Oberyn Martell X Reader - Tumblr Posts

Violence In Our Blood

Fic 6 from the Seven Nights Of Sin - series One

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x F!Reader

Prompt: "Fuck you." "As you wish." Requested by @autumnleaves1991-blog Hope you enjoy my friend!

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: 18+. Angst. Enemies to lovers vibe. Oral (fem recieving). Roughish sex. Unprotected PIV.

Kings Landing is positively buzzing with preparations for the upcoming wedding, guests arriving from all over the seven kingdoms as you look on gloomily from the windows in your rooms.

You hate it here, hate being cooped up in this cold and unforgiving keep like a bird trapped in a cage. You want to be back out in the world, exploring and learning, but you're stuck here as your duties to your family demands.

A burst of colour from down below captures your gaze and you lean further out the window for a closer look, watching the incoming new arrival make their way closer to the keep in swirls of yellows and orange. Whoever they are their appearance is a vivid explosion of colour in this bleak place but you know better than to get your hopes up. It's probably just another stuffy lord here to kiss the boots of your bratty second cousin and the poor woman doomed to marry him.

Your sour mood continues on until the banquet later that night, forced into a ridiculous gown with far too many skirts and too long sleeves for your liking and your hair pinned into an obnoxious style that had you balking in the mirror.

You sit stifly in your seat far too aware of your uncle, the great Tywin Lannister, watching you with his beady eyes and his lip curled in distaste as you drain goblets of wine at a pace that would put Cersei to shame. Suddenly a shiver breaks out over your skin along with the realisation that someone else is watching you, their gaze so intense that it feels like a physical presence carressing your body.

Your eyes scan the large hall, sweeping over countless forgetable faces and you almost believe maybe you've drank too much and imagined it, but wait.

Oh.

Gods help you, the man watching you so intently is beautiful.

Tanned skin swathed in vibrant yellow, the very same that you saw from your window you belatedly realise, thick dark locks and a neatly trimmed beard frame his handsome face and beneath his strong nose a teasing smirk tugs at his lips as your eyes lock on his.

Eyes that steal the breath from your lungs, even from here you see the way they swirl with mischief, desire and a glint of danger. They're delicious pools of melted chocolate, beckoning you to throw caution to the wind and dive into him. Everything about this man screams warmth, be it gentle or a blistering heat, and you want nothing more than to sink into him and let him warm the cold reaches of your achingly empty soul.

You jump as someone refills your goblet, breaking the trance you have fallen into with the mysterious stranger and heat floods your face and your neck as you realise that you were practically gawking at him. You take a quick sip of your wine to calm your racing heart and your eyes subconsciously seek him out again. He's whispering something into the woman's ear beside him, something innapropriate you imagine from the way she slaps his chest lightly with a giggle as he leans in close.

You're not quick enough looking away when he draws back from his companion and his eyes find yours once more, a small grin on his lips whilst he winks teasingly at you as the woman places a berry to his mouth. Flustered you tear your gaze away, determined to focus on anything else as the night crawls on.

It's late when you decide to stretch your legs and make your way around the hall, pausing for simple small talk with a few women and slipping past roudy groups in varying stages of drunkness. You don't stay in one place for long, annoyed by the questions you're bombarded for being unusually rebelious against the ever perfect Lannister name. Why aren't you married yet? Why are you travelling through the kingdoms when you should be finding a husband and producing an heir?

You won't be young and pretty forever one woman warns you, muttering to the other ladies like gossiping hens when you roll your eyes and walk away. As usual you've got more chance finding better conversation at the bottom of your goblet, a theory you're set on testing as you knock back the rest of your wine in one go.

"You know." A smooth voice floats from behind you. "If you're hoping to escape these festivities, you might want to try a different method than drowning yourself in wine. It's not proving very effective."

Goosebumps prickle your skin at the low, teasing tone and you lower your cup to turn ever so slowly as you come face to face with your mysterious stranger.

Like before there's a smirk playing on his lips and you don't miss the way his eyes slowly trail up and down your body as he drinks you in up close. He arches an eyebrow at you and you realise all you've done is stare at him in silence and you mentally shake yourself at how strange this man makes you feel.

"It's worked rather well up untill now." You say and you want to curse at how breathy your voice sounds but if he notices he doesn't let on.

"Yet, like me, you're still stuck here." He shrugs. Dark eyes flicking over the crowd, as if his guard is up for some reason, before slipping back to you. "Though I can't condemn this night completely. I would sit through this pathetic excuse of a banquet for eternity if only to gaze upon your beauty a few moments more."

Smooth bastard.

Usually if someone spoke to you in such a manner you'd run in the opposite direction but there's mischief twinkling in his eyes that makes you grin at him in response.

"An eternity in this hell for only a few moments looking at my face? Doesn't seem like a fair trade to me. Besides I don't even know your name." You quip and his throaty laugh fills you with a light warmth.

It's the first genuine sound you've heard in days and you're drunk off it. The skin around his eyes crinkle as he laughs and his smile is playful as he draws closer, his fingers reaching to lightly skim down your arm before he daringly takes your hand in his and holds it to his chest.

"My name is Oberyn and what, sweet one, would you deem a fair trade for my ever lasting misery? The rest of this evening?" He lifts your hand to his mouth and presses a hot lingering kiss to one of your knuckles.

"This night?" Another kiss. "Each night until I must tragically depart?"

His gaze burns through you as he watches your response to his mouth on your skin. Your chest is tight, painfully so, and gods is it hot in here or is this damn dress just trying to suffocate you. Your mind is blank but you open your mouth to respond anyway though neither of you get to find out what your answer would be.

"There you are sweetling!" Cersei croons as she strides towards you and you cringe at the false tenderness in her voice. Her eyes catch your hand still firmly gripped in Oberyn's and a wicked glint shines in them as she smiles. "Father worried we had lost you, you can't just disapear on us like that you know how we worry. Come back and sit with me dear cousin."

The hand holding yours jolts as he rips it from you and you look at him in surprise, nose crinkling in confusion as you take in the way he stiffens.

You turn back to tell Cersei to give you a moment but she's already gone, satisfied with her work in ruining anything that could blossom between you and Oberyn.

Frowning at the odd behaviour from both of them you turn back, about to ask what's wrong when he beats you to it.

"You're a Lannister."

His tone is accusing - ice cold - the warmth that drawn you to him completely vanished to be replaced by eyes that are as hard and unforgiving as valyrian steel.

"Yes?" You answer in confusion. "I don't see why that's such a-" Your own voice shrinks as it hits.

Startled gaze flitting over his clothes and you wonder why you had never realised before, there's embroidered suns decorating the warm material. Undeniably Dornish made.

The man standing before you is Oberyn Martell, the infamous Red Viper. The man who is also extremely well known for his hatred of Lannisters.

Shit .

Your tongue feels like it's swollen - stuck to the roof of your mouth as your eyes grow wide. You can't speak, can barely breathe. You've heard the stories that follow his deadly conquests, know of the ruthlessness and the lack of mercy he shows those who he considers an enemy.

Know that you are know undoubtedly someone he considers as such.

Your eyes dart in every direction as you slowly back away from his suddenly menacing figure, missing the way some of the coldness in his eyes thaws as he takes in your frightened features.

He opens his mouth to do what? Explain? Apologise? Tear you to shreds with his sharp tongue?

Whatever it is you don't give him that chance, turning fast on your heel and fleeing the hall away from his suffocating presence. Leaving him alone, unaware of the trouble that clouds his mind at the strange pressure he feels in his chest as you run from him.

**

The next morning you wake with the feeling of a deep weariness settling in your bones.

You'd tossed and turned all night, dreams plagued by the enticing Prince who either wants to fuck you or kill you. Maybe both. You're not sure where he stands on that right now and you don't plan on finding out, hoping to avoid him at all costs until he leaves after the wedding.

After you bathe and dress you take a walk in the gardens, hoping their peaceful beauty will soothe the tension coiled tightly in your body and for a while it does.

You're sat on a low wall, fingertips gently running over some flowers that sway in the breeze when just like last night, a rich voice startles you.

"I'd hoped to run into you today."

Your heart swoops in your chest as you look at him. Gods he's so beautiful it makes you ache. The blue of his robes making him look ethereal and you swallow harshly, forcing yourself to remember how he turned so cold and scathing when he found out who your family was.

"Why on earth would you hope to encounter a Lannister?" You grit. "And in case it wasn't obvious, if our mere existance upsets you so then maybe you shouldn't be in Kings Landing, you know, where a Lannister sits on the throne."

He narrows his eyes at your snark and strides forward to stand infront of you, desperately ignoring how his stomach flutters when you look up at him from beneath your lashes.

"I sought you out to apologise for my unpleasant behaviour towards you last night, you had done nothing to deserve such hostility but if you insist on lashing me with your barbed tongue then maybe my actions were warranted." He spits, his tone venomous as he glares at you and feels the never ending well of hatred for your bloodline along with an unnerving desire to quell your attitude with his lips on yours bubbling close to the surface.

Rising quickly from the wall puts you chest to chest with the wild eyed Prince who refuses to back away and forces you both to endure this heated proximity as your harsh breaths fan across one anothers skin.

"I beg your pardon?" You hiss. "You acted as if I'd personally brought the end times upon us all because I happened to be birthed into a family you hate and you expect me to what? Forgive it because you sought me out with weak honeyed words? Oh excuse me whilst I swoon."

You have no idea where this viciousness is coming from, maybe it's because for a moment you had been slightly enamoured with him and his icy rejection because of who you were had hurt more than you wanted to admit. You curse yourself as even now your eyes drop to his lips and you have to bite down painfully on yours to keep you from surging forward.

"You Lannisters are all the same." He seethes. "You act so high and mighty when the poorest beggar in this shithole of a city is worth ten of you. You're nothing but a bunch of murderous traitors."

Your gasp echoes in the otherwise silent gardens and your hand whips towards his face before you can think better of it yet the impact never comes. Instead warm fingers grip your wrist in a bruising hold as Oberyn's dark eyes flash down at you.

For the longest moment he says nothing, glaring at you with an intensity that threatens to melt your bones as the aggressive tension morphs into something no less violent, but entirely different.

Your chest heaves, brushing against his with every shuddering breath and you flex your wrist as you try to pull it back but he refuses to release you, leaning down until his nose nudges yours and his hot breath hits your lips.

"Oberyn-"

"Try and strike me again sweet one, and I won't be held responsible for what happens next." He threatens lowly and your eyes flutter closed as heat mortifyingly curls in your belly before shifting lower.

You do your best to will it away, proud when your voice comes out alot more stable than you currently feel.

"Would you kill me? Because then I have bad news for you Oberyn, you'll be no better than those you claim to hate so vehemently. I can hand on heart say I've never harmed another soul, can you?" You challenge and his eyes grow impossibly soft for a moment, returning to the warm way he looked at you last night.

"I would never harm you little lion." He promises, gripping your chin in his fingers and tilting your face up to his. Your breath falters as his eyes go from soft to wickedly hot in a flash. "But I would make you scream."

A needy moan escapes your lips before you can choke it back and it shatters Oberyn's already threadbare restraint as he lunges forward and crushes his mouth to yours.

There's nothing sweet about the kiss between you, anger and hurt still simmering too close to the surface in both of you for it to be anything but violent. His mouth takes yours roughly as his arm snakes around your waist to yank you into his chest.

You fall into him without protest, utterly consumed by the way he devours your lips, a possessive growl rumbling in his chest as revels in the taste of you and you respond to him with a hunger you've never felt with anyone else.

A whimper falls from you as he sinks his teeth into your plump lower lip, quickly turning into a whine when his silky tongue slides along the stinging flesh before delving past your parted lips to tangle with your own.

Your fingers plunge into his thick hair, tugging hard on the strands as your tongues fight for dominance and he groans loudly into your mouth as pleasure ripples down his spine, the hand at your chin slipping to clamp down on the back of your neck whilst the one at your back grabs a handful of your ass to pull your hips against his.

Gods help you.

He's impossibly hard and thick as he rubs against the thin material of your dress, you've not even seen him yet but already electricity is crackling through your every nerve at the thought of having him inside you.

You snake a hand down between your bodies and cup him through his pants, grinning wickedly as he bucks against your hand and pants harshly into your mouth whilst your palm him. He snatches up your hand and wrenches his mouth from yours to send you a warning glare.

"Not here." Oberyn growls and you can see the gears in his head turning, he can't fuck you out in the open but it's too risky dragging you through the keep. His eyes light up when he spots an alcove, almost completely hidden by greenery and flowers and he's hauling you inside before either of you have time to question if it's a good idea.

Once you're hidden from view he's on you in a heartbeat, lips hungrily clashing with yours and his hands cup and squeeze your breasts whilst nimble fingers tease the stiffened peaks of your nipples as he shoves the top of your dress out the way. You're arching into him, lost in the haze of feelings he manages to pull from you and you want to do the same to him. You want to see him whimper and groan beneath your attentions.

Reaching beneath his pants, your fingers just manage to brush the velvety skin of his cock when he jerks and rips your hand away. The hurt must flash across your face because he's suddenly kissing you softer and he whispers against your lips.

"Before I get carried away I want to taste you."

You shiver, nodding quickly and he grins as his hands dig into your hips before slowly inching the skirt of your dress up your legs and past your thighs until he holds it bunched against you stomach. He kisses you with simmering passion, moving from your lips when you begin to squirm as cool air hits the more intimate areas of your body, sucking kisses into along your jaw and nipping at your neck before he plants wet hot kisses to both breasts. You whine for him to move quicker, your core pulsing with need, and he chuckles against your skin as he drops to his knees.

Oberyn peppers kisses along your thighs, his warm hands gently sliding over your calfs and massaging the muscles. This is too intimate, you feel out of your depth, you can handle his rage, his passion but this? Your heart beats out of sync and you can't help making a joke that you know will stir an intense reaction from him.

"Well would you look at that, the infamous Red Viper on his knees for a Lannister."

You smirk slyly at him and the heat in his eyes flares, causing you to shriek as a large hand cracks down on your ass and he buries his face in your glistening cunt when your hips lurch forward.

A piercing cry pours from your throat as he sucks hard on your clit and your body tries to fold in on itself before he shoves you upright against the cold wall and slings one of your legs over his shoulder to clamp you onto him.

He fuses his mouth to your dripping core, licking a broad line from your entrance to your clit, his tongue swirling divine circles on the swollen bundle of nerves as you rock against his face and muffle your sobs with your teeth sunk into your fist.

Blazing eyes meet yours and he spanks you again, pulling his mouth from your sweet cunt when your hand covers your ragged cry.

"Don't ever hide your pleasure from me. I want to hear you falling apart on my tongue, let anyone who walks past know who's making you feel this good." He rasps and you quiver in his arms before slowly lowering your hand, his leaving your thigh to grasp yours and place it in his hair, winking before he dives back into you.

His tongue spears into your entrance before licking up to your clit as he sinks two fingers into your aching heat, finding your g-spot when your body jerks in his hold and curling his fingers deliciously.

"Oh fuck, Oberyn." You breathe, hand clenching in his hair and he groans brokenly into your cunt, the vibrations rippling through you and your head falls back against the wall as your hips stutter.

"Oberyn please." You cry and he curls his fingers faster. Swirling his tongue harder over the bead of your clit before taking it gently between his teeth.

"Cum for me sweet girl." He demands.

You stiffen in his hold as he sucks hard on your clit, pleasure exploding through your body and you're not sure if you scream or make any noise at all. Your vision blanks and static fills your ears as you're lost to everything but the waves of pure chaotic bliss that mercilessly drag you under.

You're panting as your soul returns to your body - eyes wide on the prince who still laps at your juices, groaning as he cleans up every drop from the flood of your release. His lust-drunk gaze locks on yours and you flush from the fierce pride that shines in them, his mouth leaving your core before he smacks his lips.

"I'll get on my knees for you if only to hear you beg for me so sweetly, darling girl." He smirks.

You flush hotter. Bristling once again due to the ego on this man and the fact you've now fed it with how hard you just came for him.

"Fuck you." You snarl.

Not your most imaginative insult but it sings like a challenge in Oberyn's blood as he pounces from the ground to press you against the wall, his body caging you against the cool wall whilst his hard length grinds into you.

"As you wish." He purrs.

He grabs you by the shoulders and spins you around.

"Hands against the wall." He commands and you comply without thought. The rough tone of his voice sending heat licking up your spine.

He grabs your hips, a soft curse on his tongue as he pushes your dress up to expose you to him.

"You're absolutely perfect." He moans. "Look at you ready and dripping for my cock."

He nudges your legs a bit further apart and you whine as you hear him reach into his trousers to pull his cock out, mewling his name when he slaps your ass whilst rubbing his swollen head along your slick folds.

"Oberyn quit teasing and just fuck me." You demand but your voice cracks as he notches at your entrance and buries himself inside you with a single soul shattering thrust.

"Brat." He curses, choking as your hot walls clench around him. "So impatient aren't you, has it been too long since someone pleasured you the way you deserve?"

Oberyn smirks when a broken cry escapes your lips as he slowly pulls out before slamming back into the hilt. He sets a bruising pace, fire burning through his blood as you flutter and gush around him the harder his hips snap against the curve of your ass.

His fingers dig into your hips - a bruising grip that he's positive will see you baring his marks for weeks to come and fills him with a feral sort of possesivness as he yanks you back onto his cock.

"You feel fucking divine." He growls. "This perfect little cunt was made for my cock. Let me hear you, let everyone in the seven kingdoms now who's cock you're gushing on."

The filthy words send heat flooding to your core and you clamp down tightly on his cock as your eyes roll in the back of your head.

"Fuck. Oberyn please." You sob, throwing your hips back as you try and impale yourself further on his length.

It feels like there's a firestorm building in your belly, each punishing thrust shoving deep. Knocking hard against the fleshy tissue inside you that makes you go liquid, ragged moans tumbling from his lips as your walls clamp down around him.

He wraps a hand in your hair holding you in place as the other sneaks down to frantically rub at your clit. His cock twitches and throbs as it spears through your the soaked channel of your sex, soul almost leaving his body when your muscles bear down so tightly he's forced to change pace to a deep grind as you scream his name and shatter.

Your body convulses so hard that your arms begin to slip from the walls and he senses your knees about to buckle, hand releasing your hair to sweep an arm around your middle and pull you in close whilst he works you through your orgasm.

Your scream tapers off into choked sobs as pleasure blasts your every nerve.

"That's it sweet girl." He murmers into your skin. "So fucking good for me, cumming all over my cock. That's it - oh fuck. "

His hips stutter, faltering in their frantic pace as his cock pulses and spits deep.

You stay wrapped together, panting as the aftershocks drain from your bodies and you both catch your breath. He pulls back, a soft groan leaving his lips as he slips from you and catches a brief glimpse of your combined juices seeping from your cunt before you awkwardly smooth your dress back down.

He's already tucked himself away by the time you turn to face him and it pains him the way your eyes are slightly guarded as your teeth worry at your lip. But you have every right to worry, the two of you had been at each other's throats before and a quick fuck isn't going to erase the problems you have to face, no matter how mind blowing the orgasms were.

You see when it dawns on Oberyn what your rash tempers have lead you too, see the brief horror and loathing as he realises he's just fucked a member of a family that disgusts him.

You're too vulnerable in this moment, still bared to him in a sense and you try and turn away as the tears sting your eyes.

But he sees, of course the ever observant Oberyn sees and he quickly steps towards you, drawing you into a warm and soothing embrace because despite the name you carry, for some troublesome reason, he can't bare to see you hurting. Especially because of him.

Oberyn is an excellent judge of character and from what he's gathered of you, you're…good? Heart breakingly so and it torments and confuses him. He sighs wearily as he rubs gentle circles on your back before sliding his hands to cradle your head as he pulls back, silently observing your tear stained face.

"How are you one of them?" He whispers.

You sniff, shrugging lightly as you look up at him through wet lashes.

"I'm not really, I only am by name."

You make it sound so simple but you're situation is anything but and as he brings his lips to your forhead in a gentle kiss you can't help but fear.

What the hell have you both done?

Taglist: @alexmarie29 @thelindalorian @lilangeldevil006 @qhbr2013 @godohammers @yourbucky084

Silks and Spears

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Reader x Slight Elllaria Sand

Rating: 18+ (MINORS BEGONE)

Warnings: Explicit language, cannon violence, Decapitation, mentions of rape, mentions of murder, murder, allusions to sex, smut, Dilf energy, Milf energy, 

Warnings 2.0: See chapter 10 for Warnings.

Summery: It doesn’t take a scholar or royal adviser to figure out the invitation the Royal Wedding in Westeros has some underlining conditions. Not that it matters to you or your son, the opportunity to go to a country so far away that impressions wouldn’t do much to your reputations is just too good to pass up. And who better to live that thrill to the fullest than with the Red Viper of Dorne.

Keep reading

dancing phantoms on the terrace

pairing: Oberyn Martell x f!reader

word count: 850

tags/warnings: (somewhat) modern!Oberyn, able bodied reader, reader has hair that wind is "whipping through", no use of y/n, alcohol consumption, once again it's all aboard the angst train i'm sorry babes

a/n: written for @studioghibelli's writing challenge, thank you for this gorgeous moodboard! <3 shoutout to @sizzlingcloudmentality for letting me ramble about this <3

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

dividers by @saradika-graphics <3

Everything is sparkling. Lights twinkling from the ceiling, reflecting in the glittery material of your dress as it’s swishing around you. In the golden liquid’s tiny bubbles in the high stemmed glass in your hand. On your eyelids and cheekbones, small particles that make your skin glow and shimmer as you dance. 

And in his eyes, as they follow your every move. Mesmerized, just like he always is. Filled with regret, just like he always is. Afraid that it’s gonna be the last time he sees you. Just like he fucking always is. 

Knowing better than to tell you, knowing better than to elicit that sad smile of yours, to hear the soft, apologetic We can’t, Oberyn one more time. 

He sees you in his car, next to him in the passenger seat. The windows down, wind whipping through your hair, sunshine spilling in and illuminating you. Your laughter ringing out around him, the smile growing on his face while you took his hand and kissed each fingertip.

He sees you walking next to him, his arm around you and giggles on your lips, both of you stumbling back to his place after meeting friends at the bar. Dancing around in the dark apartment without music playing, just the both of you, wrapped up in each other, so close and yet never close enough.

He sees you next to him in bed, your cheek resting on his chest, the soft sounds of your breathing, your warmth against his body. Pressing a kiss to your forehead before drifting off to sleep. 

The bliss of being this close to you, to be allowed to touch you like this. Before he became this shell of a human, consumed by building his legacy, by the need to get justice for his family and their sacrifices. When he thought that if he worked hard enough, he could quell the sadness and anger that had been festering inside of him. Before he felt you drifting away, before he was too busy to answer your phone calls, before you slammed your door in his face and shut him out. 

He still sees you. Watches you, from afar. Watched you getting on with your life, watched you avoiding him when your shared social circle kept you showing up at the same places, watched you laughing with other people, never with him. Watched you get married, with a sting in his chest and a forced smile on his face. It might have been wishful thinking, but he could swear that your smile was forced, too.

He’s watching now, with you so close and yet painfully far away from him, dancing by yourself. Making it so easy to imagine himself right there with you, the way it used to be. 

You’re gliding off the dancefloor and towards the huge glass door leading to the balcony, your eyes locking with his just before you slide outside into the night, out of view. Of course you knew he was watching. He’s always watching. You always know. 

You don’t turn around when he approaches, looking out over the gardens that are plunged into darkness where the light spilling out of the high windows can’t reach. The music is muffled out here, like he’s stepped into a different reality, where it’s just the both of you. It has always been this way with you. 

Goosebumps are rising on the bare skin of your shoulders. He still remembers how you feel. How smooth your skin is, how soft under his touch. How he could never keep his hands off of you when you were still his. 

His fingers ghost against yours, skin on skin, until they intertwine almost on their own accord. Your breath hitches. 

“It’s a nice party.”

If he tries, he can imagine that everything’s the way it was. That you’re hosting this party together, the happy couple that just needed fresh air for a moment. That it’s not just him, inviting too many people he doesn’t like into his house every weekend. Always in the blind hope that you’ll show up. 

“It is,” he agrees. You turn to look at him. His heart aches. 

You inhale deeply, squaring your shoulders. He remembers your mannerisms so well. Already knows that you have something to say, something he won’t like. 

“I can’t come here any more. It’s not— it hurts too much. I know it hurts you, too.” 

He swallows, hard. Tightens his grip on your hand. It hurts to see you, yes, but it would hurt more not to. 

“Princess—” 

Pain flickers in your eyes at the old pet name. 

You lean in closer, your lips meeting his cheek one last time. Just as soft as he remembers. A single tear drips down your face when you let go. 

“Goodbye, Oberyn. It’s been very rare to have known you,” you whisper. 

Your fingers let go of his. He watches as you step back into the twinkling lights, watches you disappear into the crowd. The loss of his life. You don’t hear his reply, but he knows that you know.

“Very strange and wonderful.” 

...hi :) i once again apologize for my actions, i hurt my own feelings with this one ngl. if you want to leave a comment or a reblog, i'd love you forever <3

That last line in Oberyn’s voice has a special place in my heart. This is so lovely!!

dancing phantoms on the terrace

pairing: Oberyn Martell x f!reader

word count: 850

tags/warnings: (somewhat) modern!Oberyn, able bodied reader, reader has hair that wind is "whipping through", no use of y/n, alcohol consumption, once again it's all aboard the angst train i'm sorry babes

a/n: written for @studioghibelli's writing challenge, thank you for this gorgeous moodboard! <3 shoutout to @sizzlingcloudmentality for letting me ramble about this <3

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

dividers by @saradika-graphics <3

Everything is sparkling. Lights twinkling from the ceiling, reflecting in the glittery material of your dress as it’s swishing around you. In the golden liquid’s tiny bubbles in the high stemmed glass in your hand. On your eyelids and cheekbones, small particles that make your skin glow and shimmer as you dance. 

And in his eyes, as they follow your every move. Mesmerized, just like he always is. Filled with regret, just like he always is. Afraid that it’s gonna be the last time he sees you. Just like he fucking always is. 

Knowing better than to tell you, knowing better than to elicit that sad smile of yours, to hear the soft, apologetic We can’t, Oberyn one more time. 

He sees you in his car, next to him in the passenger seat. The windows down, wind whipping through your hair, sunshine spilling in and illuminating you. Your laughter ringing out around him, the smile growing on his face while you took his hand and kissed each fingertip.

He sees you walking next to him, his arm around you and giggles on your lips, both of you stumbling back to his place after meeting friends at the bar. Dancing around in the dark apartment without music playing, just the both of you, wrapped up in each other, so close and yet never close enough.

He sees you next to him in bed, your cheek resting on his chest, the soft sounds of your breathing, your warmth against his body. Pressing a kiss to your forehead before drifting off to sleep. 

The bliss of being this close to you, to be allowed to touch you like this. Before he became this shell of a human, consumed by building his legacy, by the need to get justice for his family and their sacrifices. When he thought that if he worked hard enough, he could quell the sadness and anger that had been festering inside of him. Before he felt you drifting away, before he was too busy to answer your phone calls, before you slammed your door in his face and shut him out. 

He still sees you. Watches you, from afar. Watched you getting on with your life, watched you avoiding him when your shared social circle kept you showing up at the same places, watched you laughing with other people, never with him. Watched you get married, with a sting in his chest and a forced smile on his face. It might have been wishful thinking, but he could swear that your smile was forced, too.

He’s watching now, with you so close and yet painfully far away from him, dancing by yourself. Making it so easy to imagine himself right there with you, the way it used to be. 

You’re gliding off the dancefloor and towards the huge glass door leading to the balcony, your eyes locking with his just before you slide outside into the night, out of view. Of course you knew he was watching. He’s always watching. You always know. 

You don’t turn around when he approaches, looking out over the gardens that are plunged into darkness where the light spilling out of the high windows can’t reach. The music is muffled out here, like he’s stepped into a different reality, where it’s just the both of you. It has always been this way with you. 

Goosebumps are rising on the bare skin of your shoulders. He still remembers how you feel. How smooth your skin is, how soft under his touch. How he could never keep his hands off of you when you were still his. 

His fingers ghost against yours, skin on skin, until they intertwine almost on their own accord. Your breath hitches. 

“It’s a nice party.”

If he tries, he can imagine that everything’s the way it was. That you’re hosting this party together, the happy couple that just needed fresh air for a moment. That it’s not just him, inviting too many people he doesn’t like into his house every weekend. Always in the blind hope that you’ll show up. 

“It is,” he agrees. You turn to look at him. His heart aches. 

You inhale deeply, squaring your shoulders. He remembers your mannerisms so well. Already knows that you have something to say, something he won’t like. 

“I can’t come here any more. It’s not— it hurts too much. I know it hurts you, too.” 

He swallows, hard. Tightens his grip on your hand. It hurts to see you, yes, but it would hurt more not to. 

“Princess—” 

Pain flickers in your eyes at the old pet name. 

You lean in closer, your lips meeting his cheek one last time. Just as soft as he remembers. A single tear drips down your face when you let go. 

“Goodbye, Oberyn. It’s been very rare to have known you,” you whisper. 

Your fingers let go of his. He watches as you step back into the twinkling lights, watches you disappear into the crowd. The loss of his life. You don’t hear his reply, but he knows that you know.

“Very strange and wonderful.” 

...hi :) i once again apologize for my actions, i hurt my own feelings with this one ngl. if you want to leave a comment or a reblog, i'd love you forever <3

gold rush

pairing: modern!Oberyn Martell x f!reader x Dave York

word count: ~5.1k

summary: “You like him, princess?” Oberyn asks, a grin obvious in his tone. 

You nod silently, your eyes still trained on the man behind the boat’s steering wheel.

“So do I.” 

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), alcohol consumption, able-bodied reader, reader has hair that can be tugged, no use of y/n, kinda dom!Oberyn&Dave but they're just bossy really, unprotected p in v (which you shouldn't do with someone you just met), oral m&f receiving, threesome, a bit of m/m action but reader is the main character here, dirty talk, fingering, anal play (m receiving), praise kink, these three are freaky and i'm sure that i forgot something, if so please let me know <3

takes place in my modern!Oberyn universe but can be read as a standalone!

a/n: my plan was to write this for @secretelephanttattoo's secret springs event, which i'm criminally late to (i'm sorry, el!), but that is where the idea for dolphin tour dave came from. i didn't expect to go this feral with it lol

big hugs and thank you to @jolapeno for letting me cry about the complications of writing threesomes and figuring out the plot (read: positions) with me and @sizzlingcloudmentality for listening to me complain about this nonstop and gushing over the million snippets i sent and taking me seriously when i came to her with “i have an important question about giving head”

i'm very grateful that so many people seemed excited about this idea, i hope that it's everything you wished for and that you have a good time reading it!

dividers by @firefly-graphics <3

notifications blog -> @guiltyasdavenotifs & full masterlist -> here

Waves are lapping against the boat’s hull, the ocean reflecting the soft orange and golden hues of the sun setting over the horizon. 

You’re leaning against the railing, relishing in the warmth that has sunk into your skin from the day on the water. A beaming smile seems to have permanently settled on your features after today’s trip, a cruise around the shore that resulted in fulfilling one of your lifelong dreams — getting to see dolphins in the open water, watching them race through the waves right beside you, their fins breaking through the surface.

You had squealed, unable to contain your excitement, committing every second to memory. A once in a lifetime experience, making this trip to Secret Springs one of the best vacations you’ve ever had. 

With the shore now rapidly approaching again, you’re drinking in your surroundings for the last few minutes, committing the whole day to memory, until it’s time to set foot on the mainland again.

However, your gaze keeps flitting back to the man steering the boat, who had been introduced as Dave and your captain for the day by the tour guide when you first boarded. You hadn’t been able to keep your eyes off of him all day, taking in the broadness of his shoulders, the way his biceps was straining against the seams of his light blue t-shirt, the sharp jawline and the quiet concentration and competence that he exuded. 

Contrary to the tour guide, who kept chatting away, his mouth remained shut, full lips pursed, jaw clenching and unclenching. His eyes were piercing, keeping track of every movement, both out on the water and on the boat. There was no way he hadn’t noticed your staring, with the way his eyes had met yours a few times, his lips curling into a small smirk each time before he turned away again. 

Your boyfriend’s arms wrap around you from behind, his chin hooking over your shoulder. Hot breath fans against your skin, the wiry hairs of his beard scratching over your cheek as he places a swift kiss there. 

He follows your line of sight, an amused rumble from his bare chest vibrating against your backside. 

“You like him, princess?” Oberyn asks, a grin obvious in his tone. 

You nod silently, your eyes still trained on the man behind the boat’s steering wheel. He kisses you again, longer this time, lips lingering on the soft skin right behind your ear, his tongue catching a taste of the salt that has seeped into your whole body after the day of the water. 

“So do I.” 

You giggle, sinking deeper into his embrace. 

Dave is closed off at first when you walk up to him after he’s the last person to step off the boat. His jaw firmly set, giving the same air of quiet confidence that you’ve felt drawn to all day, but his fingers are twitching at his side when you approach him, his eyes flickering between you and Oberyn’s figure a few steps behind you. 

“Hey,” you smile sweetly, not missing the way his gaze quickly trails down your body in your short summer dress, before it flies back up to meet your eyes. “We were thinking, as a local you know all the best places around here, right?”

A wry grin grows on his face at the term local, but he hums in agreement. “Sure. How can I help you?” 

His voice travels right through you, deep and gravely, his words clipped with precision. Polite, but efficient. Entirely unlike Oberyn’s drawling purrs, but not any less intriguing. The cold exterior is drawing you in, challenging you to uncover what’s underneath.

“We wanted to go get a drink tonight, maybe you can show us the best spot for that?”

“Allow us to buy you one as well,” Oberyn chimes in from behind you, stepping closer and snaking one arm around your body. His hand comes to rest at your waist, sending warmth through the thin fabric that’s covering you. His thumb glides against the underside of your breast in a calculated movement, just short of grazing your nipple.

Even as you swallow down your responding whine, Dave’s gaze zones in on the movement, one eyebrow rising as his pupils dilate, his eyes turning darker. One corner of his mouth turns upwards.

He’s a quiet shadow moving beside the both of you, but he still keeps catching your glances at him, his pouty lips curling into a smirk each time. 

The bar he takes you to is less crowded than the ones right next to the beach that you’ve already visited, and the drinks aren’t as overpriced, but just as delicious. There’s a large deck on one side, with twinkling lights strung up between the poles and the scent of the surrounding flowers wafting through the air. 

Sinking into comfortable chairs in a corner, you sip on your drink and watch as Oberyn tries to get to know your companion better. He’s the more talkative one of the both of you, exuding the smooth charm and confidence that immediately drew you in when you first met him, but Dave doesn’t crack nearly as easily. 

His answers stay short, every word from his lips calculated, no information about him given freely. Heat is already gathering between your thighs, just from watching them. Both their presences overwhelming in the best way, both of them making you want them. 

It leaves you antsy, desperate to do something, something to be closer. You rise to your feet, extending a hand to Dave. “Dance with me?” 

His eyes widen a fraction, looking from your outstretched hand to Oberyn, who hasn’t moved an inch. “You don’t want to?”

Oberyn smirks, settling deeper into his seat, a picture of relaxation, but the tension of underlying excitement sparkling in his eyes isn’t lost on you. 

“No. I am enjoying myself right here.” 

Dave seems to consider for another moment, before he shrugs and his hand closes around yours. You love the feel of it, the warmth of his skin sinking into yours where you’re touching, his fingers calloused and rough against yours. The sight of him leaves your mouth dry, the shades of his face in the dim light, the dark pools of his eyes. They’re exactly the same shade as Oberyn’s, but where Oberyn is familiar, his eyes telling stories of love and joy every time he looks at you, like a warm bath that you can sink into, Dave’s eyes are like steel. Cold. Watchful. Not any less interesting. 

You start dancing, moving your body to the beat that’s playing from the speakers, a sensual rhythm that makes it easy to get closer to him, to get a taste of how his body would feel against yours. Letting yourself get lost in the high of the day, in the soft haze of the alcohol in your veins, in the nervous energy that’s bubbling inside of you at the prospect of this new adventure right in front of you.

As you grind against him, one hand curls around your hips, strong and determined, effortlessly stopping your movements. The simple touch is enough to make your knees go weak, holding the promise of power, of everything you want from him. He firmly holds you where you stand, putting some distance between the two of you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” His tone is still clipped, challenging in a way that sends heat through you. You like the no nonsense attitude, like the way his eyes are firmly trained on your face, the spark of something darker in them that makes you want more. 

“Dancing,” you pout, eyes widened in mock innocence. 

“Don’t bullshit me. Your boyfriend’s right there, sweetheart.” 

You turn to look at Oberyn, who’s already observing the both of you. He still seems relaxed, knees spread wide, lounging in his seat, but the hunger is burning in his expression. He teasingly raises an eyebrow at you and you return it with a grin, before your gaze finds Dave again. 

You take a step closer to him, leaning in to whisper into his ear. A small shudder runs through him.

“He doesn’t mind sharing.” 

The grip on your hips tightens, a low growl raising in Dave’s throat at your sudden proximity. 

“Is that so?”

You nod quietly, trailing your fingers over his chest. “He likes it.” 

His mouth is so close, close enough that you give in to the temptation and brush your lips against his. He growls again, louder this time, one hand curling around your neck to hold you right there as his teeth dig into your bottom lip. You sigh against his mouth, pliant under his grip, delighted at the change in his demeanor. 

His touch travels higher, up your sides until he’s almost in reach of your breasts and you’re slowly unraveling, your body desperate for more.

“Having all the fun without me, princess?” Oberyn turns up behind you, caging you between the both of them, mouthing at your neck and you whimper into Dave's mouth. 

“Thought— thought you were happy watching,” you gasp when he grinds against you and you feel his growing stiffness against your ass. 

He bites your neck gently, and you shudder again. 

A quiet look passes between the two men. You see the quiet question in Dave’s eyes, the evident satisfaction at what he finds in Oberyn’s, before he squares his shoulders and pulls up to his full height. 

A pleasant shiver travels up your spine as you watch the silent exchange. They’re two sides of the same coin, the same kind of energy, all confident and strong, but channeled so differently. Where Oberyn is all smooth, flowing like water and wrapping himself all around you, all-encompassing but almost impossible to grasp, Dave is nothing but hard edges, sharp enough to cut if you’re not careful. You want them both.

It’s dark in Dave’s apartment, only the faint glow from the moon and the streetlights filtering in through the windows. The rooms are almost eerily tidy, barely lived in. Your skin is still warm, both from the humid evening air outside and the heat that’s steadily growing inside of you at the prospect of what the night has in store for you. 

Still, the space you just entered somehow feels cold, much like the man that it belongs to. Except that, right now, that man’s lips are finding your neck, sucking at the same spots where Oberyn’s mouth had been not too long ago, his tongue hot against your skin as he pushes you down the hall. 

Your fingers reach for Oberyn instinctively, a silent breath leaving you when they intertwine with his. Feeling Dave on you is so new, so different, leaving you dizzy with excitement. He’s intense already, his touch demanding and firm, hands digging into your flesh as he steers you towards his bedroom. The anticipation makes you nervous, makes you long for the familiar touch of the other man to ground you. 

It’s a tangle of limbs, two pairs of hands on you as you stumble into Dave’s bedroom. The interior is minimalistic, functional, no personal items that you can make out in the dark. No photos, not even a dried up plant on the windowsill. You briefly wonder what kind of person he is, outside of this. If he has friends, hobbies, what he does when he’s not working. 

The train of thought dissolves when Oberyn’s mouth finds yours, his nose bumping into your cheek and his beard scratching against your chin. So similar to Dave’s kisses, and at the same time, not similar at all. One hand cups the back of your head, pushes you into the kiss, its touch vaguely unfamiliar. 

Your eyelids blink open, catching Dave’s, whose gaze is dancing between the both of you, watching, raw hunger behind his dark irises. You flick your tongue against Oberyn’s, relishing in his responding groan, and in the way Dave’s eyes darken further, trained on your boyfriend now. 

Oberyn pulls away, linking his hand with Dave’s that’s still resting at the back of your head. You’re hypnotized by the sight of both of them touching, even if just for a brief moment, before Oberyn places Dave’s hand on your shoulder, hooking the other man’s fingers under the thin strap of your dress. 

Winking at the both of you, he saunters over to the bed, spreading out on top of the covers, an expectant glint in his eyes. He looks so good like this, so easily commanding every setting he finds himself in, the confidence surrounding him at all times. Your attention wavers when Dave tugs at the straps, goosebumps forming on your skin where his fingers skim over you. 

He raises his eyebrows in question, toying with the fabric, waiting for your confirmation.

“Go ahead,” you breathe, excitement weighing out the flicker of nerves. 

He nods, determination painting his features, the kind of calm assuredness that has you pressing your thighs together when he slides the straps off your shoulders. 

The flowy dress lands in a heap at your feet, leaving you in just your panties, your breasts braless and already bare for him. 

Dave’s eyes widen, a mumbled Fuck tumbling from his lips. A proud smirk passes over Oberyn’s features. 

“She is just a dream, is she not?” 

“She is,” Dave growls, his broad hands roaming over your skin, pulling you closer. 

“Touch her,” Oberyn’s voice sounds from the bed. “She likes being played with.” The casual authority oozing from his tone, paired with being talked about as if you’re not there, is almost enough to get the heat blazing through you to boil over. 

“Does she now?” Dave murmurs, cocking his head and dragging his gaze down your body, purposefully slow. You start squirming when his fingers glide over your nipples, playfully tugging at the hardened buds. You whine in reaction, a needy sound that has both men chuckling. “Yeah, you do,” he coos, nipping at your throat. Your responding whine to the sharp pinpricks of his teeth is even louder this time.

His touch travels lower, skims over your stomach, stopping just short of your panties, beneath which you’re already dripping for him. 

“May I?” It’s low, almost reverential. His gaze burns into yours, glinting darkly when you nod, a please, Dave falling from your lips. 

He finds you wet with slick, the fabric covering you completely soaked through, a moan breathy and high in your throat when he rubs at you through the fabric. 

“Please, more,” you whimper, all dignity lost to the hope of what it might feel like to have his thick fingers inside of you soon. His lips chase your mouth as he pulls your panties to the side, swirls a finger through your wetness and up to your clit. Your moan comes out muffled, licked out of your mouth by his tongue. 

You grab at his t-shirt, eagerly pulling at the hem, desperate to see all of him, to feel all of him. He helps you pull it over his head, exposing his upper body, all wide shoulders and massive chest, to your hungry eyes. You’re overcome with the need to touch him, the fire burning inside of you fueled by how strong he feels, how his muscles are flexing under your exploring fingers. 

In the lack of light, it takes a second until it catches up to you that his torso is littered with scars, white lines that shine dimly, skin that’s uneven under your touch. There’s a particularly large cut near his left collarbone, one that you mindlessly trace with a finger, until his hand closes around your wrist in a harsh grip. He pulls it away abruptly, the look on his face bordering on dangerous. 

Your whispered sorry isn’t met with an acknowledgement. His eyes close and open with a deep exhale before he meets your gaze again, pointing a curt nod towards the bed. 

“Hands and knees. Now.” 

You’re quick to obey, even more eager to please now, the harsher demeanor only driving your arousal to new heights. Dave’s hands span over your ass as you lock eyes with Oberyn. Your boyfriend has already rid himself of his clothes, languidly stroking his cock and regarding you with a teasing smile. 

The sight has you clenching with need, knowing how much he loves seeing you like this, knowing how much his pleasure grows from seeing yours, from being able to give you this. 

Behind you, Dave pulls your panties down your legs, leaving you naked and on full display for him. A deep moan escapes him at the sight, spurring you on to arch your back a bit more as you turn your head to look back towards him. He’s staring, the weight of it heavy on your bare skin.

“Such a pretty pussy, sweetheart,” he rasps, before he kneels down behind you and licks a broad stripe through your folds. His groan at the taste reverberates through you, your slick flooding his tongue, your whole body pulsing with need, each lick sending a new wave through you. 

When his tongue lets up on its ministrations and he sinks two fingers into you instead, thumbing at your clit, you cry out in pleasure at the sudden sensation. Your eyes find Oberyn again, touching himself more urgently now, keeping eye contact with you. He’s still smiling.

It’s impossible to take anymore, impossible to bear not feeling full for another moment, the stretch of Dave’s fingers not nearly enough. “Please,” you whine, turning towards him again, “I need you to fuck me. Please.” 

Dave chuckles darkly. 

“Need it, huh?” 

You don’t mind the condescending tone, don’t mind how desperate it makes you look, you just nod, silently pleading with him to have mercy on you. He indulges you, lets you watch eagerly as he takes off his pants and his cock springs free, thick and heavy and everything you need right now. 

A moan leaves you at the sight, earning you a smug grin from him, before he steps closer. You feel him nudge at your soaked entrance, one hand resting on your hip while he’s taking his time to tease you. Helplessly, you grind against him, wanting to feel him, needing to feel him. 

“Give it to her hard,” Oberyn purrs, leaning forward to cup your face. “I want to hear her scream.”

You’re still shuddering from his words when Dave finally sinks inside you with one sharp snap of his hips that punches the air from your lungs. He gives you no time to adjust, immediately sets a punishing rhythm. It jostles your whole body, would push you up the mattress if he didn’t pull you back onto him by your hips. 

It hits just as deep, stretches you just as wide as you wished for, screams and sobs of his name falling from your mouth as raw pleasure is spreading through you like wildfire.

Oberyn’s mouth is on your lips, on your whole face, drinking your pleasure straight from the source. 

“Is he as good as you imagined, princess?”

You can only whine and nod, incoherent babbles of yes, fuck yes the best that you’re able to manage. 

“Do you hear that?” he purrs, flashing a feral grin towards the other man. “She is feeling so good, so drunk on your cock that she can barely talk.”

He moves away from you, gets up from the bed and steps behind Dave instead, his hands gliding over the man’s shoulders, his eyes glued to where Dave keeps thrusting into you harshly. You can only imagine the obscenity of the sight based on the wet sounds that ring through the bedroom. With a quiet laugh and a pat on your ass, Oberyn shifts again. “I want a closer look.”

Rustling hits your ears, but when you crane your head to try and see what’s going on, Dave’s fingers tangle in your hair, forming a fist and pulling. It’s forcing your back into an almost painful arch and your head to point forward again. He leans over you, bringing one foot up on the mattress, growling into your ear while his cock somehow reaches new depths with the change of position. 

“You focus right here. You wanted me so bad, huh? Pay attention to me, then.” 

He plunges into you even harder, the sensations right on the pleasurable side of overwhelming. You twitch violently in his grasp when another touch reaches you, the familiar feeling of Oberyn’s tongue teasing at your clit all of a sudden, the coarse hairs of his beard scratching against the sensitive flesh. His chuckle at your reaction vibrates against your pussy, causing you to writhe between them, pushing back against Dave’s thrusts while trying to chase Oberyn’s mouth at the same time. 

Dave groans at the way you’re tightening and twitching around him, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, holding you in place. Oberyn licks and sucks at you, knowing your body better than you know it yourself, bringing you to the brink of ecstasy almost instantly. 

“Getting so— fucking tight,” Dave grits out from behind you, landing a slap on your ass that has you squealing. The sharp bite of pain sends you tumbling over the edge, pulsing around his cock, still sheathed deep inside you. Your hands uselessly grab at the sheets, skin stretching over knuckles, anything to keep you grounded as pleasure burns its way through you. 

Oberyn never lets up on his attention on your clit, soft licks and kisses that prolong the aftershocks of your orgasm until you’re trembling, your head falling forward, sweaty forehead connecting with the soft blanket on Dave’s bed. 

“Good girl,” Dave coos from behind you, one large hand gently rubbing over your back. “You’re doing so good.” He gives a tentative thrust, picking up his movements again when no protest of overstimulation comes from you. “You can give us more, can’t you?” 

You manage a nod and a soft yes, your mind still too lost in the lingering haze of your climax, but your body is already responding to the sensations of his cock dragging through your tight walls again. He stretches you just right, reaches so deep inside of you. 

“You are so wet, princess,” Oberyn’s voice sounds in your ears, his breath hot against your folds. “Tastes so sweet.”

His tongue moves away from your clit, licking through you, until Dave’s sharp intake of breath makes it clear that Oberyn has moved on from teasing just you.

“Is this okay?” 

You know that your boyfriend’s question isn’t aimed at you, that he’s well aware how okay with this you are, but the husky drag of his voice has you clenching around the other man anyway. 

“Fuck,” Dave groans, his thrusts slowing, chasing more than just your tight heat now. “I’ve never— yes. Yes, it’s okay.” Another breath. “Please.”

There’s more rustling, more movement between your legs, until Dave’s cock slides out of you, leaving you empty and wanting. You open your eyes, peering down at where Oberyn’s head rests on the mattress underneath you. His hand is wrapped around Dave’s cock, moving slowly, letting the other man adjust to the new experience. 

You slide your own fingers down, tangling in his hair, chasing the connection between all three of you. Your eyes meet for a moment, burning hunger passing between you. Then Oberyn pulls on Dave’s hips and closes his lips around the head of his cock, shiny with precum and your arousal. 

Both men’s voices float around you; throaty, needy sounds. Oberyn sucks Dave deeper into his mouth, and the grip on your waist tightens once more. You loosen your hold on Oberyn and prop yourself up on shaky arms to turn around again, desperate to catch a glimpse at Dave’s face. 

He looks wrecked, teeth digging into his bottom lip, eyes pinched closed, his breath coming in pants, his bare chest shining with sweat. You reach for him instead, intertwining your fingers with the ones that had been holding on to your waist. His eyes fly open, a grin spreading over his face when he catches you looking at him. A grin that you eagerly return. 

“We’re going to make you feel good, too,” you breathe. An emotion that you can’t place passes over his face, so quick that you almost think you imagined it. For just one second, he almost seemed vulnerable. 

Oberyn chooses this moment to position Dave’s cock back at your entrance, where you’re more than ready to take him again, your hips instinctively pushing back against him, your walls engulfing him once more. 

“Yeah, you are,” he growls, plunging into you again, the sudden return of the stretch forcing another moan and a fresh wave of slick out of you. He’s still holding your hand, pinning it against your lower back, jostling your body with every snap of his hips as if you were a doll. The deep thrusts hit your g-spot again and again, reducing you back to a babbling mess within minutes. The only words on your tongue are their names, mixed together by a string of pleads. 

You miss the fullness, the drag of his cock each time he pulls out of you, but knowing that when he’s not filling your pussy, he’s in Oberyn’s mouth, is enough to keep your arousal burning until he sinks back into you. 

A second orgasm catches up to you almost embarrassingly fast, pulsing around him and screaming your pleasure into the sheets. Dave fucks you through it slowly, keeps the high coursing through your body, until you’re nothing but quiet whines, your thighs shaking with the effort of holding you up. 

“Shhh, princess,” Oberyn’s voice floats to you, his familiar touch grazing your legs. You watch hazily as he retreats from beneath you, directing your body until you’re lying on the bed, everything around you soft and warm like a cloud. 

“Take a little break, yeah?” he whispers, leaning down to capture your lips. “I’ll finish what you started.” 

You watch in awe as his fingers trails over Dave’s chest, mesmerized as a shudder ripples through the other man, how he hesitantly but determined reaches out to Oberyn to return the touch. They’re a sight together, and you still want them both, still don’t feel sated.

With your eyes widening, you witness Oberyn slowly sinking to his knees in front of Dave. Seeing him in an act of such obvious submission is rare, the way he takes Dave deep into his throat, swallows him down. 

His hands are on Dave’s thighs, where the muscles are flexing under his fingers, his fingers that are wandering up further, sliding over Dave’s ass, out of your line of sight. What you can see is how Oberyn’s eyes are trained on Dave’s face, gauging his reaction to the touches. You can see the pure ecstasy written over Dave’s features as he comes with a loud groan, the shuddering pull of his abs as he’s spilling his release into Oberyn’s eager mouth, the fingers tangled in his hair and holding him in place.

Oberyn lets out a satisfied rumble at the taste, a sound that adds to the insistent burning between your thighs. You reach out for your boyfriend, tugging at his shoulder. 

“I want a taste,” you demand in a breathless voice.

Dave makes a sound like all air has been punched from his lungs, watching as if hypnotized while Oberyn leans towards you, cupping your jaw before he kisses you deeply. He’s licking into your mouth, sharing Dave’s taste with you, a taste that you can’t get enough of, your tongue tangled with his until he gently pulls away, calls you an insatiable little thing. 

A laugh escapes Dave at that, sinking onto the mattress and pulling you into him. You melt into his touch, let him maneuver you until he’s leaning against the headboard with your back resting against his chest. He’s lazily toying with you, mouthing at your neck and gently circling your nipples, giving you the occasional tug to force small, high sounds from your throat. 

You’re writhing against him, but your eyes are trained on Oberyn, who’s slowly advancing towards you. “Do you still want more, princess?” he coos, swirling a single digit through the slick between your legs, still overflowing with need. 

“Please,” you sigh, parting your legs further, making room for him. He sinks into you easily, filling you perfectly, both your lips parted in pleasure. He rocks into you, pressing your body against Dave who’s holding you tight, still playing with your breasts and whispering into your ear.

“Dirty girl… You gonna give us one more?”

You’re overwhelmed by their touches, feeling so close to another high, their scent engulfing you, huge hands all over your body, a heat that’s about to scorch you. You think that you’re pleading with them, but you can’t be sure, can’t focus on anything but how good it all feels. 

Oberyn leans forward, sinking even deeper into you, pressing your legs into your chest. “Taste yourself,” he husks, connecting his lips with Dave’s. The sight of both men’s tongues intertwined, paired with the sensation of Oberyn’s cock nestled impossibly deep inside of you, is enough to tip you over the edge one more time. 

Blackness is tugging at the edges of your vision, but fire is burning in your veins, coursing through you until your whole body is left a trembling mess. When you come back to yourself, both men are holding you close, shushing you and peppering every inch of your skin that they can reach with kisses. It’s soft, it’s warm, it’s safe. It’s heaven. 

The three of you end up in a tangle of limbs and bedsheets, intertwined with one another as closely as possible. You wrap your arms around Dave, whose eyes are already closed, but he leans into the touch instantly. 

“Thank you. You were fun,” you tell him with a giggle, your heart pulsing at the sight of an earnest smile on his face, possibly the first one that you’ve seen. Oberyn’s fingers are linked with yours, wordlessly sharing the deep joy that you both feel. You fall asleep like this, in a bubble so dreamy that you wish you could stay like this forever. 

When you wake up to the sounds of birds and waves in the distance coming through the open windows in the morning, your head resting on Oberyn’s chest as sunlight is filtering into the room, the other side of the bed is empty.

Dave is gone, leaving the both of you in an apartment that looks even less personal in the daylight, with no signs of the man who you spent the night with.

thank you for reading <3 comments, reblog & asks are greatly appreciated!

Kinktober Day 3

Monsterfucking

monster!Oberyn Martell x f!Reader

Gif credits @pedrorascal

Summary: Your poison lessons with Oberyn went wrong when he accidentally drank the wrong potion. Warnings: +18, MDNI, monster fucking, unprotected PIV, dubcon, rough sex, dirty talk, possessed!Oberyn, insults Wordcount: 1,1k An: Oh god… this is my first time writing something like this. I have no idea if i even managed to portray the monster fucking well (just kill me ok). Today I just wanted to thank the people who read all my works on an ongoing basis (I see u @amyispxnk) and let you know that, YES, I see all the comments and reblogs, BUT I'm busy gettin ready for vacation, so I don't even have time to go on tumblr. I promise I'll answer everything when I'm at home, under the covers and with a warm cup of tea. So lots of kisses and hugs to the people who comment on my works. I love you xx

Masterlist and Kinktober Masterlist

You were prepared for a lot in life, meticulously improved your skills in every field.

History, magic and... potions.

Thanks to your skills, you were given the honor of personal lessons with the Prince of Dorne. In the old, dirty and forgotten basements of the castle, where there were only you, old books and thousands of glass vials filled with deadly substances.

When you look at it from a third-person perspective, it sounded like a guaranteed tragedy. And that's exactly what it was.

After a few hours, tiredness took over your senses, which in the circumstances you were in, was simply unacceptable.

No one in their right mind would continue such dangerous activities, feeling even the slightest dizziness from the lack of fresh air and sun. And yet, you two forgot yourselves, too caught up in your studies and how much fun you were having.

Because, it had to be admitted, there had been unspoken words between you for a long time and you took advantage of every moment together.

This is what led you to the situation you find yourself in.

Tragedy.

Even the two of you, some of the best scholars in the kingdom, couldn't have predicted that someone had mislabeled the vials. Such a small mistake had large and terrible consequences. And you became the only witness who, unfortunately for you, experienced the effects of a potion of unknown origin on your skin.

On your skin, or rather, in you.

“Stay still.” Another loud growl bounced off the walls.

You squeezed your eyes shut, holding back a tearful moan. His body pressed you hard against the table as he tried to push deeper into you. Your body, however, was not used to such sudden and hard penetration.

You were shaking, trying to get used to the size of his cock, which had plunged into you just as unexpectedly as this whole situation had started.

You couldn't even fully process what was happening. His eyes went black in a split second, casting a terrifying darkness within him. A darkness that turned him into a mindless beast that longed to sink its teeth into the closest living creature - you.

“Why do you have to be so tight,” he gasped against your ear and thrust his hips hard again, pushing deeper into you. “I want all of you.”

Your pussy was throbbing with pain and wild pleasure you had never known before. And even though the prince wasn't himself right now, this was what you had dreamed of since the day you met him; for him to sink into you and make you forget about everything.

You moaned loudly, gripping the edges of the table tighter as it creaked with every movement. Your eyes misted over each time his tip dug into your cervix.

“Oberyn, please,” you sobbed.

You received a raspy laugh in response that didn’t sound like him at all.

“Pathetic little girl, you really think your prince is with us now?”

You shivered at the sound of his voice, strangely distant and deep.

He dug his fingers deeper into your hips, finally pushing himself all the way inside you. An animalistic groan escaped his throat as he could feel how wet and tight you were all over his cock, clenching around him over and over again.

You barely had time to catch your breath as his hot breath fanned your neck and another dark laugh reached your ears.

“So what are you?”

Your question hung unanswered as he busied himself with inhaling your scent and licking your skin. You were overwhelmed by the closeness he was taking over you, everywhere, on every side. There was only him.

“I am everything he wants to be.”

He slowly pulled his hips back, allowing you to feel every inch of his manhood. You shivered, desire to have him inside of you again overwhelm your senses.

He didn't let your dreams wait long to come true.

He thrust into you, the force making both of you shudder. The feeling of bliss was so great that it took over him almost immediately as his hips slammed against yours.

Without thinking, he began to fuck you. Hard. Not allowing you to think. All you could focus on was how the pleasure and pain mingled into an addictive feeling that was building in your core.

“Do you know how long he’s wanted to feel your cunt?” he asked, breathing heavily from the pace he set for himself. “Gods, how could he hold back for so long?”

He shook his head in disbelief, a wild glint passing through his black eyes as he stared at your pathetic form, moaning in adoration. He thrust into you harder, making you cry out. A pleased smirk appeared on his face before he leaned in close to you again.

“I’ve had you for a few minutes and already want to keep you.” His breath fanned your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “Forever sinking into your wet, warm flesh,” he purred.

“Yes, please,” you gasped, overwhelmed by how good it felt to have him inside you, against you, on you. He was pleased with how drunk you were.

“Give me your orgasm, little mortal.”

His cock stimulated everything it needed, to bring you closer to your desired fulfillment. You had no idea if it was because of the demon that had taken control of him, or the fact that it was in his body and you could finally feel what it was like to have him inside you.

Oberyn thrust into you recklessly, as if that was all he was made for. Your increasingly loud moans only fueled him. He wanted more. More of you, your heavenly core, and your animalistic sounds.

“Show me what pleasure I give you,” he whispered, running his nose along your neck, where he sank his teeth a moment later.

He did it so hard, that the piercing pain went straight between your legs, and the orgasm shook your body. You screamed in euphoria, pulsating on him so hard that he had to pull out of you so he wouldn't come.

“I love the orgasms of sluts like you,” he laughed mockingly, and when he let you experience your fulfillment, he thrust into you again.

You sobbed, overwhelmed by the intense feelings you had just experienced. The shadow of your coming still wandered over your body when he started fucking you again.

“Oh yes, even wetter and more sensitive,” he said with satisfaction as he listened to your helpless moans. “Don't worry, we're just gettin’ started.”

Tags: @mattmurdocksdumpy @milly-louise @rosi3ba3z @candlelover @gothcsz @tateypots @chloe302225 @natalieispunk @amyispxnk @mandoloriancookie @libre-sol @alex-does-art-things @xxchumanixx @ch3rryyyyyyyyyy @bbyanarchist @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 and @iamasaddie bc I know u love oberyn

This was...wow 😳🥵. I literally have no words. You’ve outdone yourself! Great job!!! ❤️

Isthereanypossibilityofdoingaslightspankingficforoneofpedroscharactersplease?

***Sooooooo this turned into something waaaaaayyyy different than I had originally planned. I literally thought of this in my sleep last night.

Punishment

The rumors that The Red Viper had taken a wife had swirled around King’s Landing, disbelief being met sigh with every retelling. The man was a known free love advocate. Traveled with his paramour and openly acknowledged the eight bastard daughters birthed to him with no recourse from his family. King Baratheon and his wife Cersei, dismissed the rumors as idle gossip.

Until that day when the ship that bore the glad of a red sun pierced by a golden spear docked, and Prince Oberyn lead his lady wife, Y/N Mormont, down the gangway of the ship.

“By the Gods, he did marry.” Robert Baratheon gawked as the Dornishman tucked her arm into the crook of his elbow and sauntered over to the greeting party.

The golden haired queen seethed at the beauty as they drew closer. “Probably just another one of his whores. Trying to gain favor with Dorne of all places.” She spat.

“Woman, you will hold that cursed tongue of yours.” Robert growled as he stepped forward, the thunderous look on his face fading away as he greeted the second son of House Martell with enthusiasm.

“Oberyn! I see the news of your marriage has not been mistaken. And to such a pretty lass.” He boomed, his hulking frame shaking as he came forward to embrace the Prince, clapping him on the back.

Turning to Y/N the King’s eyes flittered over her with hunger. “At one time, her father wanted me to marry her you know?” He held her hand while she curtsied and brought it to his hips for a kiss. “But Tywin convinced me that Cersei was to be the next Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Had the resources for the burgeoning army I led.”

Y/N Mormont was breathtakingly beautiful. Rich black hair tumbled down her back in loose curls. The emerald green eyes a shocking contrast. While on Bear Island, she had skin the color of fresh milk, pale and white. The sun and sand of Dorne had been good to her, making her skin honeyed and giving her a more exotic look that made the display of skin from her light dress even more tantalizing.

Cersei flushed as she gritted her teeth in anger. The insults her husband doled out just adding to the mocking smile the Prince shot her.

“Yes, well the Lannister’s always believe their golden lions made them better than everyone else.” The smooth accented voice was deadly like the spear he wielded in battle. “But gold is a cold and ridged spouse.”

Y/N’s eyes flashed in amusement as the King laughed at the veiled insult. The red mottled face of the Queen let her know that the devious woman would be seeking some sort of punishment for her perceived embarrassment.

****

Dinner was an affair that was quickly spiraling out of control. The King and Queen were very generous in the numerous cups of wine they imbibed. The sharp tongue of the woman growing more bold with every cup poured.

Y/N watched as she leaned back in her chair, newest drink her her hand as the barbs rolled off her tongue.

“Is House Mormont so destitute that you needed to trade yourself to Dorne?” She slurred slightly, her eyes narrowed in wicked glee.

Oberyn’s hand was on her knee, gently stroking the inside with his thumb. While they had retired to their rooms to freshen up, they had both agreed that Cersei would try to ignite their anger. But she didn’t understand, could never understand the bond that had formed between the pair.

“My family house is in good hands with Lady Lyanna leading it. I felt after the betrayal of my brother, my cousin would be better trusted by the throne. So it left me free to pursue other interests.” Y/N said as she picked out a plump grape from the bowl on the table before them and turned to slip it between her husband’s lips.

Cersei sneered, her lip curling viciously as she spat. “Orgies?”

Emerald green eyes snapped over to the blonde. Fire flashed in her eyes as she ignored the silent warning Oberyn gave her. Y/N was less skilled in veiling her insults, more blunt than a princess should be.

“Love. Something you would know little of. Perhaps if you did, your bed wouldn’t be cold.” Y/N shot back, aiming directly for the chink in the Queen’s armor. Everyone knew of the hushed rumors. The King having spent far more time with tavern wenches and whores than in Cersei’s bed.

Silence fell over the room as Y/N cursed herself inside. As much as she knew that Oberyn has enjoyed her barb, she had overstepped. Publicly insulting the Queen in such as brash manner had been reckless. People had lost their heads for less.

Blazing eyes turned towards the King, who sat with his mouth slightly open in surprise. “You will allow your wife, your Queen, to be treated so?” She ground out scathingly. “How far we have fallen. Soon enough there will be insults by every subject in the kingdom.”

Oberyn tensed next to Y/N. He knew what game she was playing. Even if they had not love for one another, Cersei could manipulate the vanity of the king exceedingly well. His reputation for being a leader was now being calling into question by a returned volley on an insult that had first been lobbed at his wife.

“Robert, if I may?” He interjected with an idle wave of his hand, trying to signify the menial impact of the situation. “In Dorne, we have very effective methods for dealing with a, shall we say, bratty wife.”

Dark eyes raked over her, Y/N lowering her head to stare at the hands folded in her lap. Looking for all appearances, a meek and submissive wife. Even as she chewed the inside of her lip to keep from smirking as Oberyn’s deft fingers inched higher under her dress.

A raucous laugh rang through the dining hall. “By the Gods, that’s what they are, aren’t they? Bratty wives. If they were our soldiers, we could just beat the hell out of them.” Robert thumped his hand down on the table with a loud belch. “But the Maesters say that it’s a bad example to set for the Kingdom, even if it would provide some peace from the harping.”

The dark haired prince joined in his laughter, his fingers rubbing circles on the inside of his wife’s thigh. A comfort and a message that he was playing his part. He despised everything about the ways of the North, from the way they treated people under their protection to the prudish ways they felt about love.

“What is this method you use?” Robert asked, reaching for his cup again.

He leaned back and pierced the King with a mild look. “If they wish to act like children, then our wives are treated as such. A spanking to remind them of their place in the world.” He casually threw out.

Only Y/N knew of the rigidity of his fingers, digging into the soft flesh of her skin. They were there to ease the tensions between Sunspear and King’s Landing. Robert’s reaction to Oberyn’s veiled suggestion would be the deciding factor on if those tensions increased. For she knew that The Red Viper would let no man touch what he considered his. And Y/N was most certainly his most prized possession in that regard.

The king sputtered for a moment before braying loudly. “PERFECT!” He shouted. “It’s settled. Y/N will receive her punishment and we will forget this ever-“

“Publicly.” Cersei called out, malicious glint in her eyes.

“Woman” Robert growled lowly, a warning.

Oberyn held up a hand. “But of course. After all, public humiliation requires a public punishment.”

He looked to the king, who rocked his jaw for a moment before nodding, signaling he agreed. It would shut the harpy up, and he could keep the thin shreds of his temper in check.

Y/N made a show of blushing as he pushed back his chair. The normal severe countenance of his face made the Queen believe that he was furious with his wife, but Y/N could see the humor dancing in his dark orbs. This wasn’t something that was unfamiliar to them. She acted reluctant as she dropped herself over the expanse of his thighs, feeling his arm brace across her back for stability.

The thin material of her gauzy dress slid up the back of her thighs, uncovering the swell of her rounded cheeks. Cersei scoffed at the fact that Lady Martell was bare under her dress, while her husband grunted in a reluctant amusement.

Rough hands, so familiar on her skin caressed the rounded flesh. She felt the quick squeeze, the playful grope before his stern voice rang out. “Count them out.”

A sharp crack was heard throughout the room as his palm came down against her ass.

“One!” Her surprised cry was loud.

The second blow was delivered to the opposite cheek, just as much force as the first strike. Y/N jolted on her husband’s lap.

“Two!” She sounded breathless, pained.

Strike after strike was reigned down on her sensitive skin. Her ass cheeks growing rosey and imprinted with the fingermarks of Oberyn’s large hands. Her cries made them think that she was enduring a horrible punishment, bit out with groans.

“Ten!” She whimpered.

Oberyn’s hand rested on the warm skin, while he looked to the king. Cersei was wide eyed as she saw Robert nodding in approval, a dark scowl crossing her face before she hid it behind her wine goblet.

Y/N squirmed a bit on his lap, looking uncomfortable but seeking the single finger that had slithered between her thighs to test the slickness that had grown there. She could feel his cock pulse against her stomach as the finger curled into the warmth.

Robert braced his hands on the table. “She will think twice before insulting her betters again.” He commented.

Y/N’s jaw clenched but she didn’t look up.

Her husband drew the layers of her skirts back over her ass before answering. “You are well aware of how fair ladies can be. I regret to say that we should retire so that Y/N can recover.” The lie rolled smoothly off his tongue.

Waving his hand, the King dismissed them. “Yes, I’m sure she would have trouble sitting that red little ass on the most comfortable of cushions right now.”

They stood swiftly and exited the hall. Y/N bolting for the hallway that lead to their chambers. Oberyn caught her hand to drag her back to him, pushing her up against the pillar, his mouth raking over hers lustfully.

“When we get back to our chamber, I’m going to fuck that wet cunt until Robert believes that spanking made you walk with a limp tomorrow.” He growled, biting at her lower lips harshly.

Y/N groaned as she reached between them to cup her husband’s cock. “Then hurry up so you can really punish me.”

“More like reward you for so wickedly insulting that bitch.”

She giggled as the Prince of Dorne grabbed her hand and sprinted down the hallway of the castle, bound for their chambers and a lustful night. She was already dripping wet from his spanking and now craved his cock.

MasterList

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sex headcanons

note — NSFW. whelp. if anyone wanted proof of me being clinically insane, this is what you could show them. not only has all of my free time been devoted to watching anything with pedro pascal in it, this is also what i think about while watching these anythings. i know there are people out there who have loved him for longer and are even more obsessed than i, so i figured i would share my personal headcanons for the PPCU (pedro pascal cinematic universe, duh). big love for any fans of pedrito - nat

MANDO

- VIRGIN with a capital V

- did you see how he reacted when grogu touched his face? this man has not been touched since he was a child

- he grew up with the mandalorians but he was exposed to suggestive behaviors because, helloooo, bounty hunter

- you have to coax him into it, but it doesn't take much, since he plans on keeping you around long term

- plus, you're so good with the kid

- you provide him a safe space to explore both himself and also your body and he has no idea how lucky he is for it

- doesn't make very much noise, but loves to listen to you

- he won't last long, he’s so sensitive from years of going untouched, but this man's recovery time???

- unparalleled

- he also has the dick of a space porn star and doesn't know it

- but seriously, rice purity score is NOT lower than 90, and most of the boxes he checks are "running-from-the-police" related

- he really wants to be held and have someone run their hands through his hair and kiss his neck and hold his hands is that too much to ask???

EZRA

- his words are where he gets you

- who knew dirty talk could sound so elegant??? and poetic??

- what a tease he is, too

- he pants so heavily right in your ear holy sweet lord

- and loves to laugh during sex

- he doesn't take himself super seriously unless he gets super into it, which has been known to happen from time to time

- safe words have been used between you two, which there's no shame in, but he's so good to you afterward

- he loves aftercare, and being gentle and sweet after a rough session

- asks you what you want and makes you beg for it

- makes you feel like you're in control but really, he's the one in control

- will make you cum before he does

- kinky kinky boy, almost always willing to try what you want him to

- loves to pin you down, but after he loses his arm it becomes a bit harder, so he settles for holding you flush against his chest as you squirm in his strong grip

FRANKIE

- a little soft spoken, but will whisper in your ear in public because he knows it gets you riled up

- will stare you down from across the room with bedroom eyes

- he's got that pilot's precision if you know what i mean aha

- he's honest with you about what he likes and has no qualms about telling you up front

- gives off switch energy, but you're gonna have to really make it worth his while if you want to fuck him

- a very gentle touch, which he would love to be reciprocated

- he aches from years in the service, his back, his knees, his shoulders

- would probably drop dead if you gave him a massage as foreplay

WHISKEY

- what an arrogant piece of shit

- "gorgeous, darlin', sweetheart, sugar"

- he will butter you up like a roll on thanksgiving goddamn

- so straightforward, and very up in your face, but it got you to sleep with him the first time you met him, so you can't say it doesn't work

- not the best with his fingers, but dear lord that tongue does wonders when he's not talking

- is a man on a mission to please you

- will spend an absurd amount of time between your thighs, and loves to feel you try to push him away when you get oversensitive

- loves it when you get feisty

- pull his hair, bite down a little harder than usual, push him down onto the bed or forcefully unbuckle his pants and this man will be putty in your hands

- is SO LOUD, and expects the same from you

- doesn't understand that because you're not screaming to the heavens doesn't mean he's doing a bad job

- associates volume with pleasure which isn't always the case

- that's something you'll have to work on with him, but he's a patient man

JAVIER PEÑA

- keeps condoms and lube on hand at almost all times

- ohhhh boy is this man willing to go at it wherever, whenever, you name it

- will fuck you until he sweats, and keeps going afterward

- and will definitely do you right

- he fucks to feel in control, so good luck trying to take control with this one

- almost tries to distance himself from you at first, but really it scares him that he cares so much

- there's just something about orgasming at the same time as you that just makes his whole week, and your hole weak (ahaha)

- likes to fuck you from behind and fuck you roughly, hands both occupied at the same time, mouth on you, and dick inside you

- very hands on, but can be sweet afterward

- this man kisses like no other you've ever kissed before, he leaves you breathless

MARCUS MORENO

- leads by example wink wink

- will show you what he wants done to him, and is pretty vanilla, but in a good way

- is big on foreplay and also aftercare, probably one of the sweeter ones on the list

- he's almost methodical in his sex, very routine, but willing to deviate for you

- gentle, but deep, languid strokes

- thinks he's quieter than he actually is

- always has a lot on his mind, so he really appreciates it when you can ease some of his tension

- secretly was really experimental in college

- very attentive to your needs and likes to tease

- morning sex is his thing. when he gets home from a long day, he wants to eat and relax and sleep. but in the morning? before anyone is up and before breakfast is even being considered, he likes to wake you up with sweet bruises and roaming hands

MARCUS PIKE

- marcus is the type of man to respect your boundaries fully, keep copies of toys he knows you like at his house, and surprise you at work with flowers and a dirty quickie in the bathroom because you've wanted to try it so badly

- a more traditional way of thinking on sex, and semi-reluctant to do anything involving his ass, but will try it for you if you really want him to

- a very quick learner, this one, and incredibly intuitive

- what he lacks in skill he makes up for in enthusiasm

- it's almost like he can read your mind, when he uses just the right amount of pressure and uses just the right motion to make you cum for him

- you have no idea how anyone could give this up, let alone break his heart

- his favorite thing is having you ride him, your face buried in his neck as you grind your hips down as he whispers praise in your ear

- marcus isn't super kinky, but i'm sure you can convince him to try something new every once in a while

MAX PHILLIPS

- OFFICE. DESK. SEX.

- "a private word with you in my office, please."

- so very seductive. the hand on the small of your back gets you going and he knows it, but he'll have to be more subtle if he wants to keep you

- another one who will butter you up to get you to sleep with him. he's very obvious about it, so it may or may not work first time. regardless he's up for a challenge

- pays so much attention to your neck. you will have to invest in many turtlenecks if you want to be with max

- big on eye contact, except for the exception of fucking you senseless over his desk

- obviously, a vampire, so he's absolutely magic between your thighs

- is very personable with everyone else, mainly because he's a business major, but he LOVES to make you jealous, this man LIVES off of it

- will one hundred percent expect you to be putty in his arms immediately, and treats it as a competition if you aren't

- he WILL take it personally and will make it a personal goal of his to get you to like him and want to fuck him without using his powers

- a game of cat and mouse

- does not care at all about being loud in the workplace, but he likes to see you struggle to keep quiet, even if everyone else can hear you anyway

MAXWELL LORD

- has suCH a praise kink wow

- his favorite thing is to hear you moan and tell him he’s doing a good job

- a little more vanilla than his counterparts but does like to take control and be a little rough

- a switch sometimes, falls into ruts where he just wants someone to take care of him

- but he WILL NOT ASK FOR IT. his pride won't let him

- at first, he’s not as mindful of you as you’d like him to be

- his sex is fast and unpleasant with hands everywhere and mouths and teeth and touch

- so you sit him down, and show him what you like. very slow and sensual

- you take your time with him, and he eventually starts to do the same with you

OBERYN MARTELL

- remember din's rice purity score? yeah, oberyn's is maybe ten. which is pushing it

- when you meet him, he knows what he likes, and is very particular about it

- he's done his fair share of experimenting, but he's willing to try new things, if there's anything new to be tried

- takes control inside and outside the bedroom

- not afraid to show you your place

- he's the kinky one in the relationship, and he will let you explore his body all you want

- if he doesn't like it he will kindly redirect you, his hands on yours, stroking and tugging and redirecting pressure and placement so that you learn his body in and out

- loves to watch you with his girls and boys. what an exhibitionist this man is

- for most people, they have to choose between quantity or quality in their sex lives. oberyn martell is not most people

- he is a prince, and will not let you forget it, but likes it when you talk back and he has to punish you

PERO TOVAR

- the roughest one on the list, but not the kinkiest

- sex to him when he's at his worst is just a way for him to feel good and relieve stress

- when he's at his best, it's a way for him to make you scream his name

- very possessive about what's his, and if he has to show it in front of everyone else for them to know that he will do it

- this man fucks like a rabbit. how does he find the time??? nobody knows

- his libido is so high. you have no idea how he isn't absolutely spent at the end of a long day of fighting and training and wandering, but he'll fuck you where you lay if you let him and you're too tired to move

- once you accidentally walked in on him stroking himself, and the AUDACITY OF HIM

- he smirked, groaned, and asked you to help him out

- who could resist a man like that

when he’s sick headcanons

note — can you tell i was in a francisco morales mood when i wrote this? also, i’m incredibly soft. i just wanna hold them :’( also also send me your  own headcanons!! i wanna hear ‘em!! big love <3 - nat

MANDO

- he doesn’t know how he survived all those bouts of sickness alone when you step in to help him for the first time

- his body aches, and not the usual after-bounty-capture either

- his head is foggy, he can feel the sweat in his helmet, and his breathing is hard

- he can’t tell if it’s coming through the modulator, but when you bring soup up to the cockpit for him, he knows you know

- he takes it gratefully, knowing that if there was nobody else here he would have just gone to bed to sleep it off, dinner vetoed for the night

- your cold fingers wrap around the back of his neck, moving his cape as you do so, and he melts into you

- he doesn’t know that he lets out the smallest whimper when you do this, and it makes you want to tear off his helmet, pull him into your arms, and hold him until he’s better

- but you can’t, so you settle for a hand on his neck, and the tilt of a helmet when he drinks the soup in front of you, as requested

- he definitely has a fever, and maker knows what else

- so you tell him to get some rest, that you’d watch the ship and get him if anything went wrong

- you supervise him down the ladder, just in case, which he finds funny and sweet

- you wish you could squish into his bunk with him, but you don’t want to invade on his personal space, especially while he’s hot and sick

- you you settle into the cockpit, the ship on cruise control, and you check on him every once in a while, keeping grogu occupied and quiet while he gets some well deserved rest

EZRA

- you knew he would get it

- right after you recovered from your illness, he started displaying symptoms of the same one you had just gotten over

- shortness of breath, fever, aches, lethargy

- he had taken such good care of you, so it was only fair that you’d do the same in return

- resources were sparse and quarters were cramped on the green, but you did what you could to make him as comfortable as possible

- his feverish back was pressed up against your chest in a cot designed for one after he’d stripped down to his underwear to avoid overheating

- he really enjoyed you being the big spoon sometimes, and now was one of those times

- when he got too hot from your shared body heat though, you would sit on the floor next to the cot and stroke right behind his ear to get him to fall asleep

- you made sure he ate as much as he could keep down, and you gave him all the fluids you could spare for his speedy recovery

- it broke your heart to see your usually verbose boy so quiet and in pain

- he muttered fever nonsense to no one and whimpered in his sleep

- you moved your cot directly next to his in order to keep a close eye on him

- but you knew that with time he would heal, and that as soon as he started talking to you again he was getting better

FRANKIE

- he sweats through the sheets next to you in the early hours of the night

- you’re the one who wakes up first, and you honestly thought one of you had wet the bed because of how much liquid there was

- but you realize that it’s frankie, back drenched and sweating out whatever flu he had acquired from whoever he had gotten it from

- you wake him from what seemed to be a not great dream anyway, and when he realizes what happened, he apologizes, groggy from sleep and illness

- “no, no! i’m not mad, frankie, you just can’t sleep in this sweetheart. you’ll get more sick. how are you feeling?”

- he curls up deeper under the covers and you get out of bed to kneel next to him

- your hands card through his matted, sweat soaked hair, and you wipe the drops from his jaw

- “do you want a cool shower, baby? you’re soaked.” you suggest, but frankie is so out of it

- he was fine last night, you remember

- sure he didn’t eat dinner, and went to bed early, but you thought maybe he had a late lunch and a long day

- now, helping him out of bed to the shower, you understand that it was early onset symptoms of whatever he was battling

- he pressed heavily to your side and you’re nervous as you strip him down and get him into the tub

- he sways, and you’re not sure what you’ll do if he passes out, or hits his head, so you sit him down, take off the shower head, make sure the water coming out is room temperature, and you run she showerhead over his overheating body

- you’re careful not to get any water in his face and ears, and you don’t wash his hair, just his body with a gentle soap

- you figure this is one of the only times frankie will let you take care of him like this, so you milk it for all it’s worth

- you blow dry his hair on a low setting, just in case he has a headache, you change the sheets of your bed, you lay him down on his side and you bring him close to your chest

- which is how he falls asleep for the next few nights until his illness eventually subsides

WHISKEY

- he curls up in your lap on the couch as soon as he gets home from work, which is how you know something’s wrong

- but you ask him anyway

- “i don’t feel so great, sugar,”

- which scares you, because did he get drugged? is this just a regular illness? is this like a biowarfare mission gone wrong?

- you leave him to get the thermometer, and when you come back, he’s got sad eyes looking up at you that just break your heart

- turns out, it’s not biowarfare. just a fever of 100.4

- you slip your hands up the back of his shirt and it’s so warm, along with his forehead

- he moans weakly at your touch, worn and tired from his extensive mission that day

- he’s definitely been overexerting himself

- as you settle back onto the couch, he settles into your lap again

- you let him rest for a while, but not after long, you realize he’s fallen asleep, and you’re stuck there for god knows how long

- you turn the volume down on the tv just in case, and you stroke behind his ears and you play with his fingers

- it’s best to just let him sleep it off, and you're not opposed to letting him do it on your lap

- you imagine there are statesman resources you can use to help him, but if he’s feeling better after he’s slept it off, then maybe you won’t need to misuse them

JAVIER PEÑA

- you scared the shit out of him, knocking on his door like that

- in your blinding rage, filled with thoughts like “how dare he take the day off to bang hookers, to recover from his hangover, to generally be a hindrance to the fucking DEA,” you had not pondered the possibility that THE javier peña, was sick

- he’s pulling on a t-shirt just as he opens the door, wearing pajama pants, and it startles you to see him so disarmed and casual

- his eyes and nose are red, his hair is disheveled, and he looks... exhausted

- “wow, you look like shit."

- “i feel like shit,” he says, walking away from the door, sniffling

- you take this as an invitation in, and close the door behind you

- he collapses back onto his couch, where you assume he’s been all day, and wraps himself up in a thick afghan blanket

- his hands shake the slightest bit as he opens his lighter to ignite his cigarette

- you take a seat next to him and help him with his lighter, and he nods his thanks to you

- “you’re gonna be late,” he mutters, taking the cigarette from his mouth and blowing out smoke into his apartment, coughing it out halfway

- “i’ll call out,” you offer, eyes wandering up his blanket clad body

- he closes his eyes and lets his head rest on the back of the couch

- “go in. i’m just gonna sleep it off anyway,”

- you lean in close to him and press your hand against his forehead and he freezes, staring at you

- you run your hand down his neck and feel his warmth, and he melts into your touch just a little bit

- you offer to only call out for a few hours to get him settled and make sure he doesn’t die or something, and he lets you, simply because he knows his illness will only get worse

- when your time is up and you have to go back to work, javi’s eaten, gotten some fluids in him, and taken some pain meds

- you let him know that he can call you if he needs anything, and before you even walk out the door is sleeping contently on the couch

MARCUS MORENO

- you find out he’s sick when he calls you, and asks for a favor

- “hey, can you do me the biggest favor ever?”

- he’s super congested. at first you think it might not be him because of how grainy his voice is

- “i hate to do this to you on such short notice, but would you be able to pick up missy? i’m not feeling too hot right now.”

- when you make it back to their home, it's very clear why he thought he wouldn't be able to make it

- he's curled up in bed, tissues piled on his nightstand, trying to get some sleep, but clearly failing

- he notices the two of you come in, and you quietly usher missy away to her own room to entertain herself while her dad tries to get some rest

- he thanks you for picking up missy, and you tell him you'd be there for him whenever he needed you to be

- you make a special phone call as you care for marcus, keeping his curtains closed and running your cool hands up and down his back and shoulders until he felt like he could fall asleep

- you let him know that you'll be right back, that you were going to pick up a few things for him and that if he needed anything at all, just call

- knowing your chicken noodle soup skills were rusty, your special phone call had been to marcus' mother's house, where she had tupperware containers full of soup waiting for you to pick up for him

- when you get back to his house with pain meds, gatorade, and the soup, marcus is passed out in bed

- you don't want to wake him up, but you have a hunch that he hasn't eaten all day, so you whisper his name softly and lightly shake him awake

- he's so grateful and only eats a portion of what he normally does, but anything is better than nothing

- and you don't want him feeling even more sick as a result

- you end up eating the incredibly nostalgic and rich soup with missy at the table and talk to her about your day while marcus gets some sleep

MARCUS PIKE

- it's only when you get home from work that you realize something's wrong with marcus

- he's asleep on the couch

- which would have been fine, if you had worked overtime, or had gotten out late, but it was only four thirty

- plus, you two had planned on going to see a movie you he was excited about tonight in theatres and maybe grab dinner after

- the tv plays lowly in the background, and he hasn’t changed out of his work clothes yet

- he startles when you close and lock the door, and rubs his temples, eyes squeezed shut in pain

- "marcus, are you okay?"

- "yeah, i'm fine." he tells you, and when you mention the date, he looks shocked that he forgot about it

- "oh my god, you're right. i can’t believe i forgot, i’m so sorry babe, i'll get ready right now."

- you tell him it's no biggie, but he insists

- after you've taken off your work clothes and showered quickly for your date, you realize the two of you are most definitely staying in

- he's promptly fallen back asleep on the couch, and he looks adorable

- you put on your pajamas and he does too, and you settle into the couch behind marcus, flipping through channels with him

- he says he doesn't care what you watch, as long as it's not too bright or loud

- so you choose some old black and white movie with the subtitles on

- normally you're the one between his legs, as he rubs your shoulders and plays with your hair

- but this time, he's curled up into you, his back pressed up against your chest, his head tucked into your shoulder using it as a pillow

- you figure you didn't really want to see the new movie anyway, and decide takeout and casablanca was a better way to spend your time with your sick boyfriend

MAX PHILLIPS

- a big baby

- but he IS a vampire and DOES NOT get sick, which slips your mind completely when you come home after some overtime and find him paler than usual on the couch, his head in his hands

- you try to get him to tell you what’s wrong, and he refuses, but he caves when you sit down next to him and start stroking his head, and playing with the hair at the base of his neck

- he tells you that after the whole vampire fiasco with the company, he was set for a while, and has been feeling great, but he hasn’t had human blood in so long that it’s made him weak

- he gives you a sad puppy dog look, and you know he’s being an asshole about it, but you hate to see the dark circles under his eyes or the color his skin turns when he’s like this

- so you oblige, but you give him STRICT instructions to follow, otherwise you won’t do it again

- don’t take more than a pint, don’t leave unnecessary bruises, if you use your safe word he has to stop immediately, and he has to make it as quick and painless as he possibly can

- he nods enthusiastically, and pulls you into his lap

- he nuzzles into your neck, and grabs your chin, anchoring himself to you

- he blows softly on your skin, and presses hard kisses to the area to get your blood flowing and disarm you

- which isn’t fair because he knows your neck is so sensitive

- it’s a sharp prick when he ejects his fangs into your body and you stop moving completely, your hand fisting at his shirt, just listening to your breathing and his soft moans echoed against your skin

- out of habit your rub soothing circles into his back, more to sooth yourself then anything

- minutes pass, and you start to feel light headed and are about to tell him to stop when he pulls away, grinning ear to ear at you

- he’s back on your neck in seconds though, licking and sucking the leaking blood from the small holes he’s left in your skin

- now that, that feels much better than the bloodsucking that was going on originally

- you jump when he presses soft kisses to the sensitive area along your throat and dives a hand between your legs

- looks like someone’s feeling better already

MAX LORD

- tries to power through it as much as he can with pain killers and cough syrups, but after he almost passes out at dinner after a week of symptoms, you beg him to take at least a day off to recover

- that morning, his hair is a mess, he missed a button on his shirt, and his tie was uneven

- he was about to put on two different colored socks when he begrudgingly obliges

- you unbutton his shirt and help him take off his tie

- it’s easy to bring him back to bed after that, and you let him hold you from behind like a teddy bear, no matter how uncomfortable his arm is shoved under your neck

- usually he likes to be held, but he can feel his own back burning up, so he decides to hold you instead

- he whimpers in his sleep, plagued by fever dreams and his traumatic past

- so when he wakes you up in the middle of the night, something he so very rarely does, you’re concerned

- “i’m sorry, for waking you, i just... i just need... you... i want—“

- it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out he needs a hug

- you hold him and rub his back until he falls back asleep again, in your arms

- when he wakes up with a killer headache, you fight to keep him in bed again, rubbing his temples and pressing kisses to his forehead

- he falls back asleep in less than five minutes

- needless to say, one more day off couldn’t hurt

OBERYN MARTELL

- it’s not often than he gets sick, surprisingly, considering how close he gets to so many different people

- when you arrive at his chambers that morning, the guards seem keen on not letting you in

- you argue with them, but they insist oberyn didn’t want anyone in there

- you call them out, obviously upset and visibly frustrated when his doors creak open and you see him, in a robe, hair messy and pressed down to his forehead

- he quietly tells the guard to let you in, and you’re a little confused

- he sits down on his bed and looks up at you with guilty eyes

- “apologies, my love, but I don't want you to see me like this”

- you scoff and roll your eyes at him, moving in front of him

- you take his head in your hands, and he stares up at you

- “apology accepted, but i’m offended, my prince.”

- he scrunches his eyebrows and presses his chin to your stomach

- you run your hands through his hair and he brings his hands to your waist

- “you think mere illness could keep me away? keep me away from you?”

- his confusion melts into a small smile, and he lets his head rest against your belly as you pull him into you

- “can i get you anything, oberyn? wine, medicine?”

- “no, my love. just you is enough for me.”

PERO TOVAR

- wants to be left alone for the most part

- grumpy in general, and it doesn't get better when he's sick

- he'll let you wipe a cool cloth over his forehead and neck, and doesn't complain

- he says he doesn’t want you there because he doesn’t want you to catch what he has

- you know, survival rates are low for things like this at this point in history

- but really, like oberyn, he doesn’t want you to see him weak

- he’s afraid it’ll ruin your image of him in your mind

- william asks you to get some rest, as they can’t afford to risk more days at the campsite with sick travelers

- so you oblige, keeping your distance from pero, but you stay vigilant

- you stand guard for him for most of the night, listening to him breathe, watching his chest rise and fall, until you eventually fall asleep too

- but you’re up early, with the rest of the men, except pero, who sleeps well into daylight

- the rest of them take off, desperate to find something for dinner, but you stay back with him, stroking his forehead, a gentleness that’s rarely ever been afforded to him, listening to him ramble half in english, half in spanish, but he has your full attention

- it would be a rough few days until he recovered, but his muttered thanks and appreciation for you was more than enough for you to do it all over again if he ever needed you to

when you sleep with him for the first time headcanons

note—it gets a little suggestive during oberyn's part, but nothing too crazy. i use sleep here in it's purest form by the way, so enjoy! let me know if you have any ideas for the next one! me and the boys are open to suggestions ;)

MANDO

- mando has always allowed you his bunk to sleep, whenever you like

- when you stayed with him on the razor crest and watched the kid, he was always more than willing to give it up anytime you needed sleep

- he didn't sleep much anyway, and usually your sleeping schedules didn't overlap

- but boba fett's ship doesn't have much space to begin with, let alone enough space for all of the crew mates he's happened to find recently

- which mean's you and mando, having already been living together and already know each other, were sleeping together, in the same small bunk, at the same time

- he offered to sleep on the floor, or pressed up against the wall

- but you got mad at him for even suggesting such a thing

- there was more than enough space for the two of you to sleep, you argued, though there was barely enough room for one

- it was comical, trying to press up against him, and find a spot comfortable enough for the both of you to lay

- it was jarring to you when he removed a single pauldron for you to rest your head on his clothed shoulder

- you felt like you had violated him in some way, seeing him just the lightest bit more bare than usual

- though you were slightly uncomfortable from the rest of the beskar pressing up into your body, you were lulled to sleep in minutes from the sound of his steady heartbeat

EZRA

- the cots had never been a long term solution

- that you knew

- so when the morning comes around, and your cot drops your ass on the floor, you wish you gotten new sleeping arrangements the last time you were in town

- you were just wishing it had taken longer for them to fall apart the way they had

- there wasn't much on the green, in terms of furnishing markets

- the cots had been the only barrier between you and the floor, and now, there was nothing protecting you from the frigid, uninsulated ground of your broken down ship

- it was ezra who offered up the idea: put one blanket down on the floor, and use the other one to cover the both of you with

- you took a second to ponder it, thinking of any idea, any reason that could be used to save you from having to sleep next to ezra, the man who had been so warm and kind to you, but you had frozen him out, because of your ridiculous crush on him

- you offered up the idea of just disassembling the cots and using the cloths as protection from the cold

- but this wiseass pulls out the cloth from the cot and his blanket and compares the two, and there's no way the cloth is going to have any integrity making contact with the ground

- so you agree, and when nightfall comes, you're too exhausted from harvesting all day to fight with him

- he puts his blanket down as protection, and you all but collapse on top of in

- ezra does you the service of tucking you in, before climbing in next to you, and you're soothed by his warmth

- not soothed enough that you fall asleep immediately, still unnerved by the idea of sleeping so close to him, hearing him breathe, feeling him move

- but he throws his good arm over your body and pulls you into him, muttering something about the cold

- and your heart melts just a little bit as you fall asleep, pressed up against his chest

FRANKIE

- frankie had been upset for weeks after his divorce, which was to be expected

- but everything had been so stressful on him, and you were getting worried for his mental health

- he hadn't been answering calls, he'd cancelled plans with you last minute, which is something he never did, and he hadn't been doing anything for himself, just living in a rut of paperwork, sleeping, eating, and going to work

- so when he calls you up to ask you to go camping with him, you obviously say yes

- it's almost a two hour drive to the campsite, and frankie is fairly quite, which isn't usual, but you get some good music going and some good conversation going, and soon enough, you and frankie are laughing and singing your heads off on your way there

- it's getting dark when you arrive, and you make quick work of getting everything out of his car when he realizes something is off

- "oh no" he exclaims, and you fear the worst

- "what? what's wrong?"

- "I brought the small tent."

- "how small is the small tent?"

- "i brought the four-person tent, not the ten person tent."

- "are you kidding frankie? i'm sure we'll fit in a four-person—“

- "i'm telling you, it's not as big as you think it is, trust me."

- when the tent is complete, four-person is an exaggeration

- it's a four-person tent if the four-people were sardine packed and the size of children

- it's going to be just enough room for both you and frankie to lie down in with your sleeping bags

- but that's for a later time, because frankie has marshmallows to roast and lots of things to tell you after he's been ignoring you for a whole week

- he apologizes and you sit next to him at the firepit on your site, and you listen to him talk, and give him advice, and rest your head on his shoulder

- and when it's late into the night and you two go to retreat to bed, you have to squish up against his broad shoulders that seem so much broader in the small tent

- and when he wakes with nightmares of his fighting buddies and far too many sleepless nights, he pulls you close to him, and falls asleep again, until the sunlight streams through the front flap of the tent far too early in the morning

WHISKEY

- that day’s mission was harsh

- it had you spent, not only physically, but mentally as well

- as you lie awake in your bed, you realize you’re not getting to sleep tonight, whether or not you had another important mission that morning

- the hotel bed was creaky and entirely not your bed from home and the air conditioner was broken so it was freezing

- you figure there’s no better time than the present, and you’re well aware whiskey is right next door

- if he’s awake, you’ll ask him to have a drink with you, and if he’s asleep, you can just hop into bed with him

- he’s a deep sleeper anyway

- you’re careful turning the knob into his room, just in case he’s asleep, and you spot him in his bed, on his side, breathing softly, room cloaked in darkness

- you come around on his side of the bed and you whisper his name

- he stirs a little

- you debate going back to your room and just toughing it out, but he doesn’t give you the chance

- he’s up, groggy and hair tousled and in just a plain t-shirt

- “sweetheart? what are you doin’ here? what’s goin’ on?”

- you tell him you didn’t want to sleep alone tonight, and he wipes the sleep from his eyes and squints at you, using only the moonlight to help him see

- “what kind of gentleman would i be if i refused you my bed?”

- this makes you smile, and he lifts the covers for you to get in with him

- you plant your head on his shoulder and drape an arm over his chest, cozying up to him as close as possible

- his hand rests comfortably on your back, and he breathes rhythmically

- and you’re silently grateful he doesn’t ask questions, just lets you curl up into his side ands lets you fall asleep with him there

JAVIER PEÑA

- it happened in a flurry of passion and kisses, hands roaming his body and yours after a far too close dance with death

- if it had not been for his bulletproof vest, he'd be lying in a hospital or a morgue

- but he wasn't

- his body was warm and so was yours and the ride to his apartment was far too quiet for your liking and his

- it was only appropriate you accompanied him for a drink after such a great victory for the DEA, but it had taken a toll on both of you, mentally

- you more so than him, which is why you ended up drinking much more than you normally would have when you drank with javi

- he tried to laugh away the stress, complaining about his sore and bruised ribs, but the room was still tense

- emotions ran rampant through your body, and when he brings it up, tears start to pool in your eyes at the thought seeing him for the last time, in a suit, at his own funeral he wouldn't attend if he had the choice

- he sets his drink down and pulls you into his arms, holding your waist and cupping the back of your neck, stroking behind your ear as he listens to you cry softly in his shoulder

- he reassures you he's fine, nothing happened to him, and you pull away from him, grab his face, and stare into his eyes

- he smiles kindly at your own red ringed eyes, irritated from crying, as you try to memorize each streak of brown in his own

- it's too much for the both of you, and you pull him into a kiss

- his mouth is surprisingly soft compared to your own drunk passion, and as much as he'd love to take you right then and there on his couch, he knows he'd regret it if you woke up the next morning and regretted it too

- so he entertains the kiss, not that he minds, and leads you to his bedroom

- where the silk sheets and heavy comforter that smell so strongly of javier peña pull you to sleep next to him, faster than you'd like to admit

MARCUS MORENO

- missy and your daughter had always gotten along very well

- you were very familiar with marcus, and could even call yourselves friends to an extent

- your daughters were very intelligent little girls, and knew that if they got the two of you talking when you came to pick your daughter from his house, they would have at least another hour to play while you two chatted endlessly about boring adult things

- for missy's birthday party, she had wanted all of her friends over for a huge sleepover, and of course her father caved

- he couldn't say no to her no matter how much he tried

- marcus, the genius he was, figured that if the kids were all under one roof having fun, why not let the adults have fun too?

- everyone was invited

- the kids would have lots of different fun activities to choose from, from swimming, to games in the backyard, and a movie night under the stars outside

- and the adults were welcome to stay, chat, drink, and play adult card games marcus had saved for special occasions

- the night of the sleepover, a dozen children and adults were packed into his backyard, watching some new movie he had rented the missy was excited about

- but it was freezing, and you hadn't expected to be outside for so long

- marcus realizes this and he leans over quietly, so not to disturb the movie

- "are you cold?"

- "oh! no, it's okay, i'll be fine—“ you try to excuse yourself, but he gets up without a word, and returns with a sweatshirt of his

- it fits snugly over your head, and completely eliminated the chill in your bones

- it doesn't take long for your eyes to start getting heavy, and soon enough, you're passed out on marcus' shoulder

- "what if we camp out here for the night?" he suggests, and the kids are more than excited

- the adults know what he's up to

- but they let him anyway

- it'll be great to tease him about later, and besides, you guys are adorable together

MARCUS PIKE

- working together with marcus was always a joy

- he was always very respectful and funny

- you knew he had his heart broken more than once in the past, so even though you dropped hints that you'd want something more with marcus, you let him take it at his own pace

- when you dropped by his place that night, with important new documents you had received right before you left work and chinese food, you're ecstatic when he lets you in

- you spend hours pouring over the documents, making sure every single detail was covered and examined, when you realize how tired you are, and how loud the rain is coming down outside his window

- "it's getting really late. i should leave," you say, but marcus stops you

- "you could always, y'know, stay the night if you wanted. i'd let you have my bed."

- you smiled at him, but politely decline, as you wouldn't want to kick him out of his bed, but you yawn again

- "look, you're exhausted, and it's pouring" he points out, "you know most accidents happen by people falling asleep behind the wheel when it's raining?"

- you laugh at him

- "you just made that up,"

- "i did, but you should stay. if you don't want to i totally understand, but you'd be missing out. my bed is really comfortable."

- "is that why you're always late to work?" you quip, and close the files

- he gasps in mock shock

- "that was one time, and my alarm didn't go off," he claims, smiling at you

- he lends you a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and you pretend to not see a slight blush on his face when you walk out into his bedroom with them on

- marcus was right when he said his bed was really comfortable

- somehow, in the middle of the night, you two find each other, his face pressed into your shoulder, your arms wrapped around him, and the rain comes down even harder

MAX PHILLIPS

- "i just need some space from him, is all."

- that's all you had to tell him for max phillips to be on your side, rubbing your shoulder and telling you that all men suck anyway, you didn't need that jerk of a boyfriend to be happy

- well, now ex-boyfriend

- of course he had ulterior motives, and you knew this, but you didn’t care

- your heart wanted someone to watch movies with and eat a pint of ice cream out of the tub with you, and if max was the one who would do that, you’d settle with him for the night

- the way he pulled you into his arms, and pressed his body up against yours, was more than comforting

- he made funny jokes, tried tickling you, anything he could think of to get you to smile for him

- and for the most part, you did

- you were sick of your ex bringing the mood down the way he did, no matter how much you missed him

- the movie has gotten boring a long time ago, but you listened to max’s breathing, and felt his chest rise and fall behind you, and it was enough to lull you to sleep

- and he would’ve woken you up, to take you to his bed, but he was scared you’d leave to go home if he did

- so he took his couch throw, pulled it over the two of you, turned off the television, and settled back as you got comfortable on his chest

- this was a side of max phillips you’d never seen before, and you didn’t expect to see any time soon

- so you relished in it, and let sleep pull you in

MAXWELL LORD

- his head aches, and his eye is still bleeding on the plane back to washington d.c.

- the ride back is silent, save for the rumbling of the engine

- he rests his head against the wall of the airplane for most of the ride there, and you take comfort in knowing while he’s asleep, he’s not in pain

- when he starts getting restless, having what you think is a nightmare, you start holding his hand, stroking your thumb up and down his soft skin

- it takes him a minute, but he calms down, and you don’t let go of his hand

- with nothing to do but watch him sleep, you decide taking a nap too would be your best option

- which is when the plane hits a particularly rough patch of turbulence

- he bounces awake, nervous and alert, and you tell him it’s just the plane, everything’s fine

- when you pull him into your shoulder, he takes the opportunity to fall back asleep

- you can feel the tension in his neck just by having him rest his head on your shoulder

- you keep a firm grip on his hand, when your own eyes start to get heavy

- your head rests on his, and the rest of the ride there is smooth and painless

OBERYN MARTELL

- he had been pursuing you for quite some time

- as the second son of a king, he was more than accustomed to people saying yes to appease him

- he was forward with you, and you were forward back with him, and he liked that

- it was your words that told him you weren't looking for anything long term, that if he were to pleasure you, and you him, he would be nothing more than a simple one night stand

- boy did he prove you wrong

- your legs were so weak afterward, you couldn't bare to get up

- he took incredibly good care of you, squeezing your sore thighs and rubbing your aching muscles, pressing kisses up and down your back, brushing the hair out of your face

- it only increased your attraction to him when he brought in more people, caring for them and having them care for you, and by the time you had finished, you felt as though you couldn't physically go another round that night

- he purred in your ear that every night with him would be a night like this, and you whined back, making him grin and capture your mouth in a passionate kiss

- you didn't mean to fall sleep with him, but all the nibbling bites at your ear and the serotonin coursing through your veins had you spent for the night

- he let you sleep, and even stayed for a while before being summoned for an important meeting

- you made a mental note that eventually, you two would need to do that again, because you slept like a baby the whole night through

PERO TOVAR

- it's below freezing when you settle down for sleep that night

- no matter how much wind the tent tried to keep out, it just wasn't enough

- you're bundled up in all the clothes you had brought with you, the only blanket that could be spared, anything that could try to keep you warm, but nothing’s working

- the cold just bleeds through the blanket and your clothes, into your legs and chest and bones so that you can’t fall asleep if you tried

- you figure the only way you’ll be able to get any rest to be ready for the next day, is to go find a warmer place to sleep

- if the fire’s still going, you’ll rest there

- you shiver as you pick up your things, but your interrupted by tovar, who comes in with a thick fur blanket wrapped around his shoulders

- “where are you going?”

- “i was just going to sleep next to the fire,” you say, trying to keep the chill out of your voice

- “it’s going to be cold tonight. lay down.” he instructs, and you oblige

- he lays the blanket down over you and climbs underneath it next to you, so that your shoulders touch and watch him for a second before he turns over and tries to go to sleep without a word

- you pull the blanket up to your shoulders and you feel ten times warmer already, but it’s the heat from tovar that really entices you

- so you push back against him, your back against his, and fall asleep with the warmth of his muscles against yours

when you want him to choke you headcanons

note — NSFW. this bitch is kinky. obviously. lost of choking references, a little breathplay at the end there. all of the boys are willing in one way or another because pedro plays them, alright?? i believe in my heart that that man is kinky as hell. good morning and good night. happy superbowl. fuck you tom brady. big love to every one else besides tom brady <3

warnings: choking, penetrative sex, breathplay

MANDO

- is stunned

- you want him... to do what??

- excuse me??

- choke you?? like, with his hands??

- in the heat of the moment you guide his huge, bare hand to the softness of your throat

- he can feel the vibrations of your whimpers against the webbing of his hand and he almost blows his load right then and there

- the idea that he can wreck you like that gets him excited

- the first few times it gets his adrenaline pumping, but then he really starts to want to get closer to you, pull you in closer, fuck you on his lap in the cockpit while the baby naps in the pod

- he finds it interesting, all of these kinks, and never gets bored of them, but he's a simple man

- he's just glad you want to share these experiences with him and provide such a stable source of pleasure for him in his life that used to be so devoid of it

EZRA

- finds it quite hard to choke you with one hand, but willing to oblige you

- he's afraid of putting too much weight on your neck, so he refuses to do it in any position where he doesn't have much control

- but he ends up getting really into it

- he finds it so arousing, the dubious nature of it

- he likes the idea of being so in control of you, being able to control your breaths, your breathing

- he quite literally has your life in his hands, and it gets him rock hard

- he likes to control your moans, cut them off with his hand while you're riding him, pretending like you two have to be quiet

- will definitely ask you to let him do it again sometime

FRANKIE

- frankie is a little taken aback when you ask

- but you're so needy, mewling and whimpering underneath him

- he squeezes your jaw hard, and presses his mouth to it

- his husky voice reverberates against your nerves, and his lips move passionately across your skin before his hand moves to tilt your head up for better access

- it's like he can read your mind

- just the right pressure, just the right grasp, and can easily read when it starts to become uncomfortable

- he loves the way you anchor yourself to him by grabbing his wrist, pushing him in closer and pulling him back when it becomes too much

- communication is super important for him, so being able to gauge when he's getting too into it and what kinds of pressure you like are vital

- he loves the way you moan when he does it, so eventually, he's going to ask you to do it to him as well

WHISKEY

- a bit more vanilla than you'd expect from someone so forward, but is interested in this particular kink you have

- he'll trace the shell of your ear with his fingers, brush the side of your jaw, play with you lower lip, before cupping his hand lightly to your throat

- he likes to see how you fit so well in his hand, the way you gasp and shudder for him when he forces your chin up to look him in the eye

- the way his lip curls up when he realizes how smitten you are for him, the way he could tell you to do anything and you'd probably do it with the heat of his hand flush against your neck

- you have to show him how to do it properly, in order to not crush your windpipe, but he gets the hang of it swiftly enough

- is very possessive, and WILL allude to it in public

- he'll wrap his arm around your shoulders, and brush his fingers up against your neck

- he'll say you have something on your neck and go to wipe it away, his fingers splayed down the side of it

- he smiles when he sees your goosebumps, and you know you're in for it when you get home

JAVIER PEÑA

- he likes to kiss you with his hand wrapped around your neck

- to feel your heartbeat through your throat

- if it speeds up when he does it, he knows he's doing something right

- when he takes you from behind, he likes tugging on your hair, wrapping a hand securely around your throat so you know you're not going anywhere

- he really likes it, actually

- he loves the feeling of pressing you impossibly closer into him

- he likes to admire your beautiful throat, when your chest is pressed up against his and he's fucking up into you

- he'll grab your hair at the roots, and pull back on it, to wrap his fingers securely around the base of your throat, keeping you there

- his hands find every erogenous part of you they can, so to have one more spot he knows he can get you off with, that's all the more pleasure from javi

MARCUS MORENO

- he laughs mischievously when you ask him to do it

- he likes to get your blood rushing to all the hottest parts of you first

- he plants wet kisses to your neck, his nose pressing hard into your skin

- the way you heat up for him, and get so excited when he does it

- his free hand finds a way between your thighs and the other one curls around your throat

- it's great for when you're getting too loud and he's afraid you'll wake missy or alert the neighbors, even

- he loves listening to you pant heavily after you're done

- he also loves feeling you dig your nails into his back when you orgasm and his hand is wrapped around your throat

- those scratches aren't terribly difficult to hide, and the idea that you've marked him up as yours is reward enough for indulging in your requests

MARCUS PIKE

- will be the most reluctant, as nobody has ever asked this of him before

- he's scared of hurting you, but you seem to get really into it

- he's in awe of you when you push his hand harder and harder into your neck, moaning and whimpering soft and broken from underneath his grip

- he's not actually the one in charge here, but with his hand wrapped around your windpipe, her certainly feels like he is

- he doesn't want to leave bruises, and definitely checks up on you after the sex or the make out session

- you tell him that he doesn't have to worry as much, but that doesn't give him peace of mind

- it's only when you gently introduce him to the receiving end of it does he understand

- he doesn't like it as much as when you're writing and moaning underneath him, but he figures that if you like it, and he's really not hurting you, he doesn't mind you wrapping his fingers around your neck sometimes

MAX PHILLIPS

- max has always loved your neck, nipping at it, leaving hickeys, pressing his fingers into the pliable skin there

- so when you beg him to choke you, to force all the air out of your chest, to wrap his long fingers around your throat

- he doesn't need to be told twice

- he loves it so much, he starts doing it without needing to be asked

- he presses you up against a wall, or pins you to the bed, and squeezes just enough for you to just barely be able to breathe

- he fucks hard when he chokes you

- you swear you almost pass out when he does it, but he allows you to pull his hands back if he's getting too rough

- he likes to feel your hands wrapped around his throat too, mainly because he doesn't need to breathe, so seeing you fall apart on top of him, seeing your hands wrapped around such a delicate piece of him, squeezing as hard as you can as you ride out your orgasm

- he loves nothing more than orgasms, necks, and good business. and two out of three isn't bad

MAXWELL LORD

- he frames your face with his hands, thumbs tracing your cheeks, and you almost melt at his soft touch

- maxwell is usually quite eager, but gentle in the best ways

- the best part about when he chokes you and fucks you at the same time, is that he subconsciously squeezes in time with each of his thrusts

- his arm frames your head and his face is so close you yours and you just can't help trying to moan around his hand

- he loves loves loves hearing you moan, so usually he'll let up to allow them to escape your mouth

- but then he's right back on it, because he knows that the more he does it, the closer you'll get, and the louder you'll be

- his rings dig marks into your neck, but you love the cold contrast to the warmth of his fingers

OBERYN MARTELL

- will most definitely choke you if you ask him to

- he likes to have you demonstrate for him just exactly how you like it

- your breath hinges in your throat when he takes your hand in his, and presses it underneath his jaw, right above his adams apple

- and you press into his neck and his eyes narrow before he take you and pushes you down onto whatever surface is closest so he can fuck you

- he lights a fire in your core that's impossible to extinguish without him

- he likes to come up from behind you, wrap his hand around your throat, and shove his hand into your pants or up your dress or around whatever you're wearing

- and he loves to feel you push back against him when he does it

- he knows he's got you right where he wants you in that case

- his fingers flex around your throat and he tries to cover as much area at once

- he believes in allowing you to be as loud as you want, since he wants all of dorne to know how good of a lover he is

- but if his fingers are wrapped around your throat, he doesn't mind swallowing all of your moans in a kiss

PERO TOVAR

- tries to choke you out with two hands at first

- you really gotta slow him down and show him the ropes

- sometimes he gets excited about it, other times he's less enthusiastic

- but he loves pleasing you, deep down inside that cold heart of his

- which is why he obliges the request

- once he gets the hang of it, its over for you bitches

- he's up in your ear, panting and whispering dirty things, downright filthy things

- and he squeezes your neck tightly, his fingers wrapped snugly around your throat

- you swear his one hand almost wraps the entire way around, his fingers are so long

- he prefers fast and dirty sex, so this kind of kink is right up his alley

- especially because of how rough he can be with you

- when you two get close, he starts squeezing tighter and tighter, until you almost cant breathe, and your release, when he finally lets go, is one of the best orgasms you've ever had

- which is how pero accidentally discovers his breathplay kink