A collection of one-shots featuring various Pedro Pascal characters. Including: Din Djarin, Javier Peña, Joel Miller, Marcus Acacius, Marcus Pike, Dave York, Javi Gutierrez, Oberyn Martell, Jack "Whiskey" Daniels, and Max Phillips. Most contain expl...
summary: Oberyn's in town, and you're dropping everything to see him.
rating: Explicit (Modern Westeros, unprotected p in v, oral sex (f receiving), creampie, breeding if you squint, it all happens against a window, so semi-public sex, (1) bite, dirty talk, praise, feelings)
word count: 2.3k+
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You weren't dating Oberyn Martell, but you were definitely more than just friends. Friends with benefits, didn't accurately describe your relationship either. Fuck buddies seemed too impersonal. Lovers, maybe. There really wasn't a name for what you had—two people so in love with each other, who fit so perfectly together and would drop everything to see the other at a moment's notice. That was the thing, though, if you both lived in the same city, or hells, the same country, there could be more than whatever this was, which was you throwing all of your plans for the weekend out of the window because Oberyn was in town on business.
You'd met five years prior at a winemakers conference, the best from all around the world meeting up for a week to discuss the industry. You'd just taken over a lot of duties from your father, and it had been the first time you'd gone. You met Oberyn, sparks flew, and next thing you knew, the conference was forgotten, and you'd gotten very familiar with the inside of his extravagant room.
It had been the start of something, the two of you meeting whenever you could, talking and texting whenever you couldn't. You'd both fallen in love, but the timing had never been right, the two of you too focused on work.
He told you on the phone he was staying in some swanky hotel downtown—which made sense; it was Oberyn, after all, living his life of luxury as a co-owner of one of the most prestigious wineries in the world. It hadn't surprised you when you found yourself exiting the elevator of said hotel into the penthouse suite.
Oberyn was waiting for you, dressed in black slacks and a beautiful yellow patterned sweater, smiling broadly.
"My love," he greeted, taking long strides to get into your space, his large palms coming up to cradle your cheeks as he looked at you lovingly. "I've missed you."
"I missed you, too," you replied, your hands landing on his waist.
He kissed you then, tenderly, softly, until he needed more and deepened it, swallowing your moan as your tongues moved together in a practiced dance. Arousal was pooling in your belly, feeling your panties becoming wet, knowing what was to come.
Oberyn tasted like wine—a red, something with a powerful fruit character, spice, and some acidity—Dornish Red, you thought.
A hand slipped down your front, palming your breast over your dress, his lips moving along your jaw and down your throat, making you moan when he sucked at the skin.
