#red viper

Oberyn had spent the evening indulging in wine and idle conversation with his brother, Prince Doran but as always, his thoughts drifted back to you, his wife, his sun and moon. He had only stepped away for a few hours yet he already craved the sight of you, the taste of your lips and the feel of your body against his. As he strode through the halls toward your shared chambers, a knowing smirk played on his lips. He could hear the soft and breathy sounds coming from inside, the unmistakable melody of pleasure. He pushed the doors open without hesitation and without shame.

And there you were.

His beautiful wife, bare and glowing in the dim candlelight, tangled in the embrace of Ellaria Sand.

Oberyn's breath caught in his throat for just a moment but it wasn’t shock that rendered him still. It was pure, unfiltered admiration. Ellaria was draped over you like a silken shawl, her wild curls cascading down her bare back as she pressed her lips to your skin. Your head was tilted back against the pillows, eyes lidded in pleasure as her hands traced slow, lazy patterns over your thighs.

Oberyn leaned against the doorway, watching with rapt attention. "And here I thought I was the only one who could make my wife sound so sweet." He drawled, his voice dripping with amusement and desire.

You startled slightly at his voice but Ellaria merely chuckled, unbothered and emboldened even. She lifted her head, her dark eyes gleaming with mischief as she pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your throat before turning her gaze toward Oberyn. "Your wife is a divine creature, my Prince." Ellaria purred, her hands still exploring your body. "I couldn’t resist."

Oberyn pushed off the doorframe, slowly making his way toward the bed. His sharp knowing eyes traveled over your flushed skin, the slight trembling in your limbs, the way you bit your lip under his gaze. "You need not resist, my love." He murmured as he knelt beside the bed, his fingers trailing up your thigh, making you shiver. "I would never deny myself the sight of two of the most beautiful women in all of Dorne indulging in pleasure."

Ellaria smirked, her fingers tangling in your hair as she tilted your face toward her, capturing your lips in a slow, teasing kiss. You felt Oberyn’s warm breath against your skin as his lips traced along your inner thigh, his deep chuckle sending a thrill through your spine. "Shall I join you, my loves?" He mused, his hands already parting your legs further. You barely had time to answer before he made the decision for you.

The room was thick with heat, a sultry mix of candlelight and the heady scent of Dornish wine lingering in the air. Your body trembled beneath the gentle yet insistent touch of Ellaria, her mouth leaving a trail of fire down your skin. Above you, Oberyn’s lips ghosted over your own, teasing, indulging, savoring. "Do you feel how much she adores you, my love?" He murmured against your lips, his fingers tracing down your arms as he pinned you beneath him. "How she worships you?"

Ellaria’s dark eyes flickered up, a wicked glint in them as she pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh. Her hands, soft yet sure, gripped your hips, keeping you in place as she settled herself between your legs. "She tastes divine, my Prince." She purred before dragging her tongue along your sensitive heat, her touch slow and torturous.

A gasp tore from your lips and Oberyn swallowed the sound, capturing your mouth in a deep, claiming kiss. His tongue swept against yours, tasting your pleasure as his fingers tangled in your hair. "That’s it, my sweet wife." He praised, his voice thick with desire. "Let her take care of you."

Ellaria hummed against you, sending a wave of pleasure rolling through your body. Her tongue moved with practiced ease, teasing and exploring as her hands dug into your thighs to keep you still. The sight alone had Oberyn groaning, his grip tightening around you as he devoured every sound you made. "Look at you." He murmured, pulling back just enough to admire the sight beneath him. Your face was flushed, lips swollen from his kisses, your fingers tangled in the silk sheets as Ellaria worked you over with slow and deliberate strokes.

Oberyn couldn’t resist, his hand slid down your body, tracing the curve of your waist before brushing over your aching, sensitive flesh. "Tell me, my love." He whispered, his thumb grazing your lips as he watched you unravel. "Do you want more?"

"I think she does." Ellaria smirked against you, her fingers replacing her mouth just long enough for her to tease, 

The pleasure was overwhelming, and yet, you never wanted it to end. With Oberyn’s lips on yours and Ellaria’s touch sending you spiraling, you surrendered to the night, knowing that neither of them would let you rest until they had fully, completely, and utterly ruined you. The warmth of her bare skin against yours sent a shiver up your spine as you straddled her, your thighs pressing together in the most sinful way. Her dark, honeyed eyes gazed up at you, half-lidded with pleasure, lips parted as she let out a slow, satisfied sigh.

"That’s it, my love." Oberyn purred from his seat, lounging like a king as he watched you both with a gaze full of hunger. He sipped his wine leisurely but his knuckles were white where he gripped the goblet, his control barely restrained.

Ellaria’s hands slid up your thighs, her nails dragging deliciously over your skin as she whispered. "Come, my sweet. Show me how much you want me." A smirk played on your lips as you began moving, rolling your hips slowly, deliberately, grinding your soaking wet cunt against hers. The friction was intoxicating and the heat between you unbearable. Ellaria gasped, her fingers digging into your waist, her back arching against the soft sheets as she urged you to move faster.

"Seven Hells." Oberyn groaned, shifting in his seat as his eyes darkened with desire. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees and watching intently as your bodies moved together in a sensual dance.

Ellaria moaned beneath you, her breathless sounds mingling with your own as your slick thighs glided against hers. Every movement sent waves of pleasure surging through your core, a slow and sweet torture that left you both gasping.

"You’re exquisite together." Oberyn murmured, palming himself through his robe as he drank in the sight. "Like two goddesses, tangled in sin."

Ellaria reached up, cupping your breasts, rolling your sensitive peaks between her fingers as she leaned up to capture your lips in a deep and hungry kiss. The kiss was all-consuming, wet and desperate, your moans swallowed by each other as you pressed even closer. The tension built higher, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. Every drag and every shift sent shocks of pleasure coursing through your veins, bringing you both closer to the edge.

"Oberyn…" Ellaria gasped between moans, her hands clinging to you, her body trembling beneath yours. "Come and take her. She’s ready for you."

Oberyn let out a low, satisfied chuckle as he finally stood, shedding his robe in one fluid motion. "Both of you are mine tonight." He declared, crawling onto the bed, his eyes filled with fire and possession. And as he settled behind you, his strong hands running over your body, his lips trailing fire down your neck, you knew that neither he nor Ellaria would let you leave this bed unscathed.

The air in the chambers was thick with heat and sin, bodies tangled in a mess of lust and passion. Oberyn’s grip on your hips was possessive and bruising, his fingers sinking into your flesh as he held you steady. His lips trailed hot kisses down your spine before he growled. "Keep pleasuring her, my love. Make her come while I take you."

Beneath you, Ellaria lay sprawled on the silken sheets, her dark curls splayed across the pillows, her chest heaving with anticipation. Her thighs were warm and slick against your skin as you settled between them and your mouth pressing against the most sensitive part of her. "Yes, sweet girl." She moaned, fingers tangling in your hair as she guided you closer.

Oberyn didn’t wait. He positioned himself behind you, and with one deep, delicious thrust, he filled you completely. You cried out against Ellaria’s thighs, the sudden stretch making you shudder, your walls clenching around him in pure ecstasy. "Fuck, my love, you take me so well." He groaned, his hips snapping forward with rough and unrelenting strokes. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you back against him as he drove into you again and again, his pace merciless.

Ellaria gasped as your moans vibrated against her skin, her thighs tightening around your head. "You feel incredible." She purred, her back arching as she tangled her fingers deeper in your hair.

Oberyn grinned wickedly, watching the way you struggled to focus on pleasuring Ellaria while he ravaged you from behind. He reached down, sliding a hand between your bodies, his fingers finding your sensitive bundle of nerves. You sobbed against Ellaria’s core, the overwhelming pleasure nearly too much to bear. The pressure, the heat and the way Oberyn’s cock filled you perfectly while his fingers worked you into a frenzy, it all sent you spiraling.

"She’s close." Oberyn murmured, his voice husky and filled with pride. His thrusts became sharper, his fingers relentless, pushing you to the edge.

Ellaria’s thighs quivered beneath you as she cried out, her body tensing as she found her release. Her moans were like music, her fingers gripping your hair tightly as she shuddered against your mouth.

"That’s it, my love. You’ve pleased her well." Oberyn groaned in satisfaction at the sight. But he wasn’t done with you yet. He flipped you onto your back, capturing your lips in a deep, bruising kiss before he pounded into you with even more force. "Now." He growled, his dark eyes locking onto yours, his grip tightening on your wrists as he pinned you down. "You will come for me." And with one final and devastating thrust, he dragged you over the edge, making you scream his name as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

The air was thick with the lingering scent of sweat and passion, the warmth of spent bodies tangled in the silken sheets. Oberyn lay beside you, his golden eyes dark with satisfaction as he trailed lazy fingers along your thigh, watching as his release slowly dripped from your core. "Look at you, my love." He murmured, his voice rich with pride and desire. His large calloused hand moved to your lower belly, pressing there as if he could still feel himself deep inside you. "So full of me. A sight only the gods should be worthy of witnessing."

Ellaria hummed in amusement beside you, her dark curls fanned across the pillows as she reached out, her slender fingers tracing the marks Oberyn had left on your skin. "Mmm… our prince does love to make a mess of you." She purred, pressing a teasing kiss to your shoulder. Her warm brown eyes flickered down to where Oberyn was still admiring his work, a wicked smirk curling her lips. "He always did have a possessive streak."

Oberyn chuckled, dragging his fingers through the evidence of his passion, pushing some back inside you just to watch you tremble. "Can you blame me?" He mused, spreading your legs wider so he could drink in the sight fully.

Your cheeks burned under his intense gaze, your body still sensitive and aching from his earlier attentions. But the heat pooling in your stomach hadn’t fully faded, not when he was still touching you, still watching you like he was ready to claim you all over again. "Oberyn…" You whimpered, shifting under his touch, your thighs instinctively trying to close.

But he tsked, gripping your inner thighs to hold you open. "None of that, my love. I want to see how well you take me. I want to remember this image the next time I ride into battle, knowing that no matter how far I go, you will always be mine."

Ellaria sighed in mock exasperation, pressing a kiss to your temple. "He gets like this after battle, you know. Possessive. Needy. Obsessive." Her hand slid down your stomach, joining Oberyn’s in teasing your over-sensitive core. "Shall we indulge him a little more, my sweet?"

“That oughta tide ya over, preacher!” Colt called.

“Did you steal that money, Wilder?” echoed a man’s voice.

“Aren’t you always goin’ on about how everythin’ belongs to Him anyway?” Colt asked, pointing upward, “if ya don’t want it, give it to someone else. Though I gotta say, you could use some new Good Books…”

He picked up a very busted Bible from a little pew. The cover was holding on by a thread, and the pages were curled and yellowed.

“Do not steal me any Bibles, Wilder, you hear? Now go’n, get!”

Colt just chuckled, setting the Bible back down.

“You’re welcome!” he called, escorting Y/N out of the tiny church and back into the streets.

He dropped a pouch of money through a hole in a window, into a homeless man’s hat, and atop a barrel next to an old man in his rocking chair. Y/N watched Colt with utter confusion. Did he have a bunch of gambling debts or something?

“Okay, now lemme see here,” Colt said.

He checked a giant knapsack he had also brought along.

“Yep. I know where this is goin’.”

He approached a small house that had fallen into disrepair. He took off his hat and knocked. The pitter-patter of tiny feet could be heard from inside, and chatter mixed with giggles. A very tired-looking woman opened the door, her black hair falling in strands from her low bun.

“Mr. Wilder,” she greeted, “what brings you here?”

“Mrs. Martin,” Colt said, “I was jus’ makin’ my rounds as usual, and well, I realized I got some things in the wrong size and color, I was wonderin’ if you and the young’uns would like-”

“Mr. Colt’s here!” a tiny voice piped up.

The pitter-patter of little feet grew louder, and two children came running to the door. There was a girl around six, and a boy no older than eight at the most.

“I thought I told you to stay in the kitchen,” Mrs. Martin said.

“Mr. Colt! Pick me up!”

Colt obliged, lifting the little girl into the air as she squealed and giggled.

“Howdy do, Miss Annie,” Colt said with a smile, “are you the reason for all this sunshine today?”

Annie giggled louder. Colt set her back down as the little boy approached with a pop gun.

“And who is this?” Colt asked, feigning shock.

“It’s me, Benny!” the little boy said.

“Naw, you can’t be Benny,” Colt said, shaking his head, “the Benny I know is only yea high.”

He held his hand down to three inches below Benny’s chest.

“Ma says I hit my growth spurt,” Benny said, puffing his little chest out.

“Won’t you come in, Mr. Wilder?” Mrs. Martin asked.

She still looked tired, but her eyes had become a little less dull and her posture less somber. She opened the door wider to let Colt and Y/N through. As they passed, she caught the glint of a gold band on Mrs. Martin’s left ring finger.

Colt sat down at the kitchen table and rummaged through his bag. He pulled out two pairs of shoes.

“Benny, c’mere a moment,” Colt said, “these look about your size.”

Colt helped Benny slip the new leather boots on. Benny proceeded to stomp around the room making pistol noises with his pop gun and miming throwing a lasso. The footwear fit like a glove.

Colt fitted Annie into some bar shoes next. They were gently used, just enough to be broken in, but they were by no means worn or scuffed.

Annie stood at once, parading around in shoes that finally fit her feet and didn’t give her blisters.

Colt turned to Mrs. Martin and handed her a few sets of children’s clothes, along with a barely-worn kitchen apron.

“Now what would a man like you need an apron for, Mr. Wilder?” Mrs. Martin asked.

“Oh, y’know, I like experimentin’ with stuff from time to time. Pound cake and all that. But like I said, I misjudged the sizing on a lotta these. They won’t do me any good, but you always say waste not want not, so…”

Y/N looked between Colt and Mrs. Martin. The woman looked ready to cry, but not from exhaustion or sadness.

“Thank you, Son,” she said, “you’re a good man, Colt Wilder.”

“That is up for debate,” Colt said, standing up, “I don’t believe I’ve introduced Miss Y/N yet.”

“How do you do, Miss Y/N,” Mrs. Martin greeted.

“Uh… well, thank you,” Y/N said.

What exactly were you supposed to say when you were a hostage of a deranged outlaw and someone asked how you were doing as though you had merely been invited for tea?

“I hope Mr. Wilder has been treatin’ you well,” she said, “I don’t approve of some of his methods, but…”

She trailed off.

“It’s been fine,” Y/N said politely.

It was not fine. She was being held against her will in the biggest criminal haven this side of the Mississippi. Mrs. Martin seemed decent enough, but there had to be a reason she was here. Folks didn’t wind up in Ruby Creek because of their good deeds.

“Right, welp,” Colt said, “it’s been dandy, but we’ve got some more stops to make before lunchtime. See ya around, Mrs. Martin!”

Colt started to lead Y/N back to the front door. The children, noticing him leaving, began to protest and chase after him.

“You can’t leave right now!”

“Can’t you stay?”

“Where’s your horse at?”

“Don’t leave, Mr. Colt!”

Colt chuckled, ruffling Benny’s hair.

“Yes I can, no I can’t, he’s in the stable, and I gotsta go.”

“Awwww!”

The door closed behind Colt and Y/N, but not before he slipped a pouch of coins into Mrs. Martin’s hand.

Colt started back off down the road, his hat obscuring his face and casting a shadow over his eyes. Y/N didn’t realize she was staring at him until he looked her way.

“What?” he asked.

“Do you have gambling debts or something?”

It was in that unfortunate moment that Y/N remembered who she was talking to. This wasn’t some redheaded boy with a penchant for impulsive generosity. This was the Red Viper, terror of the western frontier, whose wanted posters listed a bounty larger than the local treasury, who had killed so many men that his scarf had been forever stained a solid crimson, and who had kidnapped her at gunpoint to make his most recent escape.

Y/N was sure Colt was going to add another kill to his list. She’d be nothing more than a notch on the handle of his gun.

Colt stared at her for a moment longer, before bursting into howling laughter.

“Oh my- your face! Do you always get this scared when you ask funny questions!?”

“You mean you’re not going to kill me?”

Colt’s brow furrowed.

“Now how many times do I gotta say it? I don’t means to hurt ya. I don’t means to hurt nobody if I can help it.”

He jerked his head back to Mrs. Martin’s old house.

“Mrs. Martin wouldn’t know the difference between a jack of spades and a queen of clubs. I ain’t never played one game of cards with her. Her husband, well, she don’t mention him much. Any time she tries, the tears come back up like a geyser. Anyway, he died a little less than a couple years ago.”

“I’m so sorry,” Y/N said, looking at the old shack.

“He was a good provider, so I’ve been told. So good, Mrs. Martin didn’t have to worry about nothin’ but raising her kids and lovin’ her man. When he died though…”

Colt’s jaw clenched. He lowered his hat over his face, grunting for a moment.

“Their land got repossessed. Bank said somethin’ about not being able to pay off a mortgage. Not everyone in Ruby Creek is here ‘cause they wanna be.”

A breeze drifted by, sending wisps of Y/N’s hair into her face.

“Where did she live before moving here?”

Colt lifted his hat back into its proper place.

“Little Gate,” he stated.

They started up the path again, the dirt crunching under their boots. For a while, they strolled in silence, save for the times Colt stopped by a building or a person of interest.

“What about the others?” Y/N asked quietly.

“Hm? Oh. Well the church is always needin’ money, and pastor Tucker’s chapel ain’t no exception. Henshaw lost his mining job when he and his buddies tried to unionize- he’s the homeless fella you saw. Old Man Howard fought in a war and hasn’t been right since, and well, these other folks have been havin’ a real bad time, too. Maybe if the town’s leadership weren’t so corrupt, I wouldn’t have to-”

He stopped, shaking his head.

“Anyhow, it’s prob’ly high noon now,” he said, “I don’t means to starve you either. C’mon.”

As Dakota Jane’s tavern came into view, Y/N saw Ruby Creek with a different lens.

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