#ramsay bolton imagine

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Unlucky

Pairing: Dark Ramsay Bolton x (female) Reader

SUMMARY: Sadly you lose your baby. But what’s even worse is that it’s Ramsay’s baby. 

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

WARNINGS: Miscarriage; Violence; Abusive Marriage; Threats.

Please, reblog and give me feedback.

Also this is the only angry Ramsay gif I could find 😅 hope you guys like it, it's a bit too dark.

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“There were some…complications, my lord.”

Ramsay looks at you, eyes darting towards your covered middle. Your hands grip the bed sheet and you gulp as fear runs through you.

The agony of losing a child is defeated by the fear of whatever the future holds for you.

That’s what marriage with Ramsay resulted in. Nothing but fear and despair.  

"The babe? Is it fine? What happened?” Ramsay inquires the maester, genuine concern displayed in his face.

The maester glances at you, his face falling into a bow, and you do the same, avoiding Ramsay’s eyes. The excruciating pain in your middle worsens with the panic you feel, tears starting to flood your eyes.

The silence perpetuates.

“No. No!” you close your eyes, small sobs escaping you upon Ramsay’s frustration. His voice growing in volume until it cracks, desperate howls of agony as he mourns over your dead child.  

Your eyes opened in a fright as fingers painfully dig into your cheeks. Ramsay hovers over you, fury disfiguring his features.

“You…You little bitch! You did this.” He growls, eyes squinting with suspicion and your face snaps to the side with the force of his slap.

“You never wanted it, did you? My heir…my son.”

“No! Ramsay, please-“

Your pleas are rapidly interrupted with another smack, this one harsher. Your tongue tastes the blood of your torn lower lip but you know it’s only the beginning. His hand can go much harder than that. 

“You killed my child, you vicious whore.” He accuses you, grabbing you by your hair, the sharp sting making you whimper.

The madness and rage that burns in his eyes terrifies you.    

Ramsay spits in your face, the vigor of his hold increasing to the point that you can feel some of your roots giving up.

He gets closer and you stop your breathing.

“You’re going to suffer for this. When I’m done with you, you won’t even remember your own name. You’ll cry tears of blood and wish you were dead already.” he threatens you, his voice lowered to a whisper.

“And then you’re going to give me a child. A son. And another. And another. You’ll give me what I want. Over and over until you’re nothing more than my breeding bitch. That’s what you deserve.”

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #ramsay bolton x reader #dark game of thrones #dark got #ramsay bolton imagine #dark!ramsay bolton #dark ramsay bolton #dark!ramsay bolton x reader #dark ramsay bolton x reader #tw: toxic marriage #tw: dark content #tw.dark content #yandere x reader #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagine #tw: miscarriage #tw. miscarriage #tw.violence #tw: violence #yandere ramsay bolton

[axelsagewrites]

Ramsay Bolton*Catch You

Pairing: Ramsay x F!Reader

Summary: Ramsay gives the reader one last chance to escape before becoming his wife

Requested by @darkrose33

Warnings: Ramsay, swearing, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, f! receiving oral, humiliation, rough sex, degradation, chase kink 18+

Word count: 1894

A/N: Ramsay is a terrible terrible person who did terrible terrible things that I do not condone...however Iwan Rheon made him so attractive in a strange way so you cannot blame me for writing smut for him

Masterlist Here

“You can run,” his voice bellowed through the forest as your feet crashed across the ground amongst the trees, “But you can’t hide,”

It was a cat and mouse game. Ramsay wanted you but you couldn’t marry a traitor even if secretly you wanted him too. Any other person would be scared when they heard his boots crunching on branches and leaves as he ran through the forest after you. a weird spark lit up in your stomach.

“If you can make it to the other side, you’ll be a free woman,” he said, candlelight illuminating the chamber that had become your cell. He’d never laid a hand on you, but gods did he want to.

“And if I don’t?” you asked.

Ramsay smirked, lightly holding your jaw in his hand despite your grimace, “Once I catch you, you won’t want anyone else,”

Leaves and twigs scrapped your face as you ran through the trees, jumping over logs, and twisting around roots. You could hear him getting closer and your heart pounding in your ears. Another log jumped another corner turned then suddenly you had to stop and catch yourself. A lake the width of two men’s heights stretched across you and freedom.

Not even a direwolf could clear the jump. Perhaps there’d be a narrower crossing point further up but how long did you have before he caught up? Your head spun as you tried to look for an option. You heard his laugh running through the wind. Without any other option you began to attempt to climb the nearest tree.

Your hand gripped the branch and you managed to only get a few feet off the ground when your hand began to slip. Trying to find another spot to grab, the branch holding your foot snapped beneath it, your body moved to cling to the tree, but you began to slip. You yelped when you felt yourself falling or perhaps it was from the hand that suddenly was on your hips.

“Caught you,” Ramsay smirked, not nearly as out of breath as you. His strong hands dug into your hips, “You can let go now,” he said.

There was no point trying to run. Ramsay guided you down the tree, hands still clung into your hips as your back was against him. With your feet now on the ground, Ramsay stepped forward pushing you into the tree and his front into your back. You gasped at the feeling of his hard on pressing into you. “What now?” you asked, refusing to look back.

“Now,” Ramsay said as he leaned his mouth down to your ear, his breath fanning over your skin, “I’m going to fuck your tight little hole right in this fucking forest,”

“Anyone could walk by,” your eyes widened despite the excited shiver that went down your spin.

Ramsay spun you around before pressing your back harshly into the bark, deliberately pressing his cock into you as he trapped you between his arms, “Good,” he said, his lips hoovering over yours, “That way they know what’s mine,”

With that his lips crashed onto yours in a deep and messy kiss. His hands moved to grope your chest over your dress. Ramsay groaned into the kiss when he felt your lips move back. You weren’t even sure why you felt a tingle in your stomach. This was so wrong. But gods did his lips feel good.

You gasped when he bit down harshly on your bottom lip, whimpering slightly as he moved his tongue in. his fingers trailed the edges of your neckline before gripping the fabric and pulling it down. You shivered as the cold forest air ran over your nipples that instantly hardened at the cold. Ramsay moaned when he felt your skin under his touch and grinned when he felt your hardened buds. Soft moans left your own lips as he began to twist them gently at first. Then when he pinched them suddenly you whined as a hollow feeling started in your stomach.

“Look at you already so desperate,” Ramsay’s breath was warm against your face in contrast with the forest chill, “So desperate for me,” there was a glint in his eyes as he stared you down, “You want me to fuck you, don’t you?” Your face flushed and you tried to look away. Ramsay growled as he grabbed your jaw harshly, gripping it tightly in his fingers as he forced you to look him in the eye, “I asked you a question,” he said lowly, “Now answer me,” his fingers dug in deeper.

“Y-yes,” you stuttered out as you looked into his eyes which seemed to darken when you spoke.

“Yes what?” he said as he pressed himself even closer to you, no space left between you and him or the tree that dug into your spine.

You whined lightly at the feeling. Despite everything you wanted nothing more than what he was offering, “I want you to fuck me my lord,” you managed to say just above a whisper.

Ramsay smirked at your whimpering. He dropped your jaw from his grip only to begin hiking up your skirt, “All you had to do was ask,” he said as he dropped down to his knees, gazing up at your cunt, “Look how wet you are,” Ramsay said, letting your skirts fall to cover his body as he positioned himself by your cunt.

You stared off into the forest as his hot breath fanned against your wet pussy. You gasped when you felt his hands grab the flesh of your hips under your dress. His nose nudges against you and a whimper left your throat. “Please,” you whined without knowing if he could even hear you.

Finally, Ramsay gave in, and you were thankful for the tree to stabilise you as he licked up your folds. Ramsay did not pause for even a moment as his tongue began to lap up your juices. You didn’t want to moan. Anyone could come past. But when his tongue ran circles over your clit you couldn’t stop them. You felt hollow when he moved away from your clit but full as his tongue began to dive into you, licking you perfectly. Your hands were gripping bark trying to keep yourself standing as his nose nuzzled into your clit.

A knot was building in your stomach as Ramsay worked his wonders with his tongue. His hands squeezed and your hips, moving back to feel the soft flesh of your ass. His hands groping your body and his tongue licking your juices made the knot tighten. Suddenly you felt your whole-body tensing, your legs locking his head in place. “Fuck,” a long whine ripped from your throat as you felt a wave rush through your body. You couldn’t stop yourself moaning his name as you came around his tongue.

When he reappeared from between your legs his face was slick with your juices and a smirk on his lips, “I think you woke the whole forest with that one darling,” he said as his hand moved to grip your throat, “I think I should punish you for that,”

“Please,” you whimpered but the idea of him punishing you just made you ache for him.

“I think,” he said as one of his hands worked on his trousers, “I should fuck you right up against this tree,” he said as his cock sprung free. Without thinking you looked down at it and stared with awe as he held his cock in his hand, “What do you think?” he asked, turning his eyes back to yours.

You nodded but Ramsay squeezed your throat. You couldn’t just nod. “Please,” you whimpered, “Please do it. make me yours,” your hands moved to hold onto his arms, squeezing his hard biceps, “Fuck me, please I’ll be good,” you begged.

Ramsay’s eyes were filled with lust, “Such a good whore,” he said as he began to pull your skirts back up, lining himself up with your entrance, “That’s what you want right? To be my whore?”

“Yes,” you whined which turned into a gasp when you felt his tip began to push in.

Ramsay groaned as he slowly began to push his cock into you. once the head was in, he paused for a moment, and you felt yourself adjust to the burn as he stretched you out. However, he did not wait long before he suddenly began to thrust into you, his whole length diving into you and filling you up.

At first you gasped, a pain starting at first, but the pain ripped through your body like a wave of pleasure. Ramsay gripped your hips as he thrust into you and admired the tears falling from your eyes. “You look so pretty like this,” he growled sending shivers down your spine.

The pain was now wholly replaced by pleasure as he thrust into you, with each thrust your back hitting into the tree. Curse words fell from your lips in a mix of moans of whimpers. Ramsay groaned and growled as he fucked you, his lips falling onto the skin of your neck to suck dark hickeys into the delicate flesh. His hands moved from your hips to your still exposed chest. A wave of pleasure ran through you as he began to pinch and squeeze your nipples. Your walls clenched around him, cumming again for the second time around him. Your moans filling the forest like a symphony to Ramsay’s ears.

But it did not stop him. If anything, his thrusts got harder when he felt you squeezing around him, “Do it again,” Ramsay said, pressing his forehead against yours. whines of protest came out, but he did not care, “Do it again,” he growled, one of his hands moving to grip your throat as the other pinched hard on your nipple, “I wanna watch you cum over and over and over,” he said, thrusting with each word.

Even if you wanted to protest you couldn’t as the pressure built again. He let go of your throat if only to shove his fingers in your mouth, swirling them around your tongue before moving them to rub sloppy circles onto your clit. Your moans got muffled when he slammed his mouth onto yours. the way your moans vibrated into the kiss made his cock start to twitch.

When he felt your walls clamp around him again, he almost spilled right then. He pulled back from the kiss to watch your face contort in pleasure, the orgasm ripping through your body like a tsunami crashing. His thrusts got sloppy as he tried to ride it out but when you moaned his name, he couldn’t stop himself. Ramsay grunted as his seed began to spill, leaning onto the tree behind you to steady himself as he drained himself into you. his lips hovered over yours as he came, and you closed the gap for a needy light kiss.

When he pulled back, removing his cock from you, he used his hands to keep you steady. It was like trying to stand on ice for the first time as your legs ached from the orgasms. “You caught me,” you said, panting as you recovered from the ordeal.

Ramsay grinned down at you as he caught his own breath, “And don’t think im ever gonna let you run again,”

Taglist: @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy

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[darkdevasofdestruction]

Moon’s Queen ~ Ramsay Bolton x Tyrell!Reader ***

This is lowkey N.S.F.W., but not only. 

Basically, the reader goes up North for the first time, takes a liking to a certain Bastard and he shows her the beauty of the Snow Land, only for Myranda to butt her nose and try to kill poor reader... Who only gets the most royal treatment from the bastard~

---

“Is there really any place better than the ethereal gardens of our capital?” Y/N asked, twirling barefoot on the green grass, as she bathed in the warm caress giveth by the Sun. “I agree, My Lady. The beauty of the Reach is known all over Westeros, and even far beyond the borders.” Y/N’s maid smiled, looking at the joyful maiden. “Leana, come over, come over - Have you heard that rumours? They say some lords from the North are going to arrive soon. I wonder the purpose for their long journey. Surely, if it were not important, a Lord would not be making such a tedious trip.” Y/N turned abruptly towards her maid and grabbed her hands gingerly, yet her smirk was mischievous, like that of a playful vixen. “My Lady, please, for the love that you bore me and your Lady mother, behave as a lady should. Such wicked curiosity is unbecoming of someone of your status. Not to mention, you are not even betrothed yet, grace of your Lord Father’s love for you and your... Adventurous side, let us name it that way, as to avoid words unspeakable for a lady --” though the maid continued reproaching her, Y/N already was far away, as she had seen the retinue making their way towards the castle.

Keeping her distance from the main road, Y/N ran along, inspecting the banners - Of course, as the eldest daughter of the Tyrell Lord, she was well educated. She just didn’t bother acting the part. Thus, she easily spotted the main banners of the Stark and Bolton family, along with some of their vassals and other lesser... Far less important lords that were hardly worth caring for.

She at least could realise why her father wanted to keep this as a surprise - He always loved surprising her with the newest things out there, even if that meant some new lordlings visiting with sons and daughters her age so that she would make new friends, should they be willing to.

Unable to contain her excitement any further, the young lady of barely eight and ten years of age bursted through the front doors of the Castle and ran all the way to the throne room, where she saw her father greeting Lord Stark and Lord Bolton, while their children and the lesser lords were one step, or even two,  behind. Y/N grinned widely as she skipped to her lord father’s side, hugging his side and wearing the most charming and innocent expression a daughter could make to melt her father’s old heart, as she kissed his cheek.

“Sweet father, what a pleasant surprise! To think that we would be guesting visitors from so far away! How very exciting!” then, she turned to the two older men and did a pretty curtesy, despite not wearing any shoes and wearing a light, simple dress. “You must be Lord Stark and Lord Bolton - It is a pleasure meeting you and your envoy.” Eddard Stark was the first to step forward and kiss her hand, with the other one following right behind. Her father guffawed mirthfully and put his hand on her back, while with the other, he pointed to the children of those lords. “Y/N, darling, why don’t you entertain the young guests? They must be tired after such a tiresome journey. Show them to their room and then guide them down for the feast, will you?” with a pat on her head, the girl nodded with a bright smile and skipped towards the other ones, some her age, while some, much younger than her. “If you would be so kind as to follow me - Ah, of course, where are my manners, do excuse me. My name is Y/N Tyrell and I am the eldest daughter of my Lord Father, Mace Tyrell, and my Lady Mother, Alerie Hightower. I have four other siblings - Willas, who is the oldest one, Garlant, my dear twin brother, Loras, who is by far, the prettiest young man the Reach has ever seen, and my sweet sister Margaery, who rivals any flower in Westeros.” Y/N continued to speak, not daring yet to get a better look at the young ones whom she was guiding - She wanted to take each of them through a detailed lens, once the feast began, so she could see what kind of people they truly are, despite their frail age.

Despite her reticence, she could already see their personalities shine, more or less individually - While Robb was more sober and chivalrous, Jon, the bastard of Lord Stark, was rather timid and dared not speak. Sansa was the definition of the perfect lady, whilst young Arya was an adventurous, playful soul, just like her.

And then, there was Ramsay Snow, Roose Bolton’s bastard and only child, and much possibly, the one that will become his heir and take over the Dreadfort... This one was... Odd, to say the least. Handsome, charming, well-natured, rather funny and an outright gentleman - He even seemed interested in her passions and anything that she has to say, unlike the other two boys.

Was Roose Bolton trying to have his child court her, for a better claim to get his bastard legitimized? How intriguing.

By the time evening came through, Y/N was already bathed, oiled in the most fragrant, sweet perfumes and garbed in the most beautiful light blue and gold dress, making her shine even more beautifully than the colourful flowers that were braided into her long, shiny hair that cascaded down her back in velvety waves as she entered the feast room and sat between Sansa and Arya (asked by their Lord Father, in hopes that they would stop their on-going feud), with the three visitor boys sitting opposite of them. Margaery and Loras were chatting somewhere closer to their mother, while Willas, Garlan and his wife were having a pleasant conversation at the other end of the table.

"I would love to ask you how do you find Highgarden so far, yet that would be just silly of me. You are far too tired for a walk through the gardens, though I promise you that, on the morrow, I shall be guiding you through all of the beautiful places that the proximity has to offer. There is truly nothing better in life than to feast your eyes on the beauty and art that life has to offer.” the girl smiled serenely, as if she was completely unaffected by anything tainted in this world. Ramsay Snow, with those gargoyle blue eyes, was staring at her with wonder and intrigue - There was also something else, rather foreign for him... A kind of hunger that he had never experienced, no matter how many pretty girls passed through his hands and bed. 

Was it his intuition? That there was something far more sinister about this young girl that hid behind wet fawn eyes? Something that was hidden away from anyone to see? Surely, there was no human capable of being this... Sickeningly soft and sweet and whatever other feminine words that are hammered down into a woman’s brain from birth.

No - Perhaps, not EVERY woman. Myranda cursed like a sailor and her speech was dirty and vulgar, unlike her pretty face and fragile body. She could easily break, just like all of them, no matter the vocabulary they used. Pathetic.

Still, he was outright fascinated, and he wanted dearly to see whether this Tyrell girl was made, inside and out, of flowers and perfume - If honeyed wine was surging through her veins, because if so, he’d get drunk on her blood, and feast on her supple, tender body like a madman.

“Lady Y/N, did you make your dress yourself?” Sansa asked with a shy smile, admiring the fine craftsmanship - The fashion style and hair styles were so different down south, compared to those in the north. “Not entirely, though, I suppose I could, if I put my mind to. I love embroidery, but I do not much fancy tailoring as a whole. Whenever I want to pass some time, I go in the garden and embroider whatever designs I am inspired to on a new dress that the seamstresses make for me.” the girl answered truthfully, allowing the red haired beauty to trace the golden, intricate designs with her soft fingertips. “See? She said she hates tailoring! She’s on my side!” Arya blurted in a bratty voice, making her two brothers lean on each other, to hide their chuckling. “No! She said she loved embroidery, she’s nothing like you, you dirty sewer rat!” Sansa gritted her teeth at her younger sister, latching her arms onto the Tyrell girl’s arm. “Oh my, oh my, what do we have here, a little sister feud. I see that sweet Sansa is rather fond of feminine arts... But you, Arya, are not. Could it be that you prefer a... Different kind of ‘needlework’? Could it be that, should you have been born a male, you could have easily defeated your two sniggering brothers over there?” Y/N raised her hand to her mouth, humming in amusement at their family interactions. “What?! You mean you like sparring too? And archery? And horse-riding? And fencing? And --” Arya’s eyes became wide like saucers from absolute amazement. “No way Lady Y/N enjoys something so brutish and barbaric as that! Look at her, she’s such a fine and delicate lady - There’s no scar or bruise on her skin, and her hands aren’t even pricked by needles!” Sansa tried to defend her own vision of the Tyrell girl, who only shook her head. “It is a wide belief that people should be owners of a variety of skills, of the widest ranges. Be it that I am arranging flowers with my sweet sister, or sparring with young Loras, if I am discussing history, art and philosophy with my eldest brother, or winning riding contests against my darling twin, it matters little. Those skills need not be necessarily mastered to the maximum degree possible, but they should at least be known, for the most part.” she explained as gracefully as she could, hoping that both sisters would be pacified... Somehow.

However, they only began arguing more, making Y/N lean backwards to allow them to face each other better. With a low chuckle, she slipped her way out of there, sharing an amused look with the three boys opposite of her, before she stole a plate filled with small cakes, tarts and pastries and making her way outside, so she could take a stroll through the garden, the dimly lit lamps and the silvery light of Mother Moon being the only source of light.

The sound of rapid footsteps on the cobbled street, however, made the corners of her mouth turn upward in amusement as she continued to walk, seemingly unassuming, until the owner of those steps jumped right in front of her - Yet she did not flinch - Instead, she took a strawberry tart and popped it into his mouth.

“Do you have strawberries up North, Lord Ramsay?” the man’s eyes were wide, yet nowhere near matching Arya’s previous shock. With a huff, he gulped down the bite-sized tart and nodded his head in approval. “I have to admit, My Lady, that I have never tasted anything as delicious as this tart. I may have not realised entirely the benefits of living in the most prosperous land in Westeros. There are many a fruit and vegetables that are foreign to me, who has not left the North until now.” he spoke, side-stepping so he could walk next to her. “I can only assume Highgarden is a most safe land, otherwise, a gorgeous lady such as yourself would be afraid of walking the dark gardens, unattended by anyone.” he assumed, stealing another cake, this one, a pomegranate one. “Yes, you are correct, My Lord. There have been no assaults in Highgarden, since I have been born. I often stroll through the gardens at night - I have found it a rather relaxing and enjoyable hobby of mine - And through none of these promenades of mine, have I ever needed to make use of my hidden weapon, thankfully for whatever fool might be out there.” she explained nonchalantly, entering a large garden filled with only white flowers that almost seemed to glow in the moonlight. The girl sat down on the grass and looked up at the moon, letting the plate on the ground, and she smiled. “Do you know what flower this is, Lord Ramsay?” she asked, a serene and peaceful expression on her face, as the man sat down next to her. “No, I dare say, I do not. We do not have such majestic flowers in my lands.” he answered, examining and analysing her face as if she was some kind of Moon Nayad. “They are called the ‘Moon’s Queen’, for they only open their petals during the night, if they receive this silvery light.” her smile felt as serene as the moon - Was she some kind of Moon Goddess that thrived best in the night light? Or, perhaps, some kind of witch, for she completely enchanted him. Getting up from the ground, she waltzed to one of the bigger flowers, and taking a dagger hidden within her hair’s braids, she cut it short and returned to the man. “The petals are even softer than a rose’s - And unlike one, they have a sweet perfume smell. But they are shy, and not many people know of them, hence why this flower is always... Forgotten. It can only be white, unlike the rose, which can grace every colour there is, hence why, it is the most loved and praised flower, especially here - Our symbol is a golden rose, after all.” the girl was kneeling on the ground in front of him, the flower nestling beautifully on her two joined palms - In the light, it looked as if it was glowing. “You said your sister was named ‘The Rose of Highgarden’, as she is the most beautiful woman in the Reach. I beg to disagree. Roses are common, and boring - One can find them anywhere. They are even freely given at jousting tourneys.” Ramsay spoke, carefully taking the flower, and fixing it into her hair. “But I think true beauty is hidden away from the common eye. The most endearing things are the mysteries you unveil yourself.” though her eyes were cast down, and a soft blush was painted on her cheeks, the bastard could see the enigmatic smile that was painted on those sweet lips of hers - He was convinced they were even softer, and more velvety than even the petals of this flower - And oh, how he wanted to test that theory for himself. “Then, how would you name me, Lord Ramsay~?” her eyes slowly met his, and for a moment there, he had forgotten how to breathe. Those sparkling, beautiful eyes of hers were so full of life, so mischievous - He was more and more curious how would she react to seeing a man flayed before her. “The Queen of the Moon.” the man gingerly held her chin, leaning it down, enough to plant a kiss on her forehead.

The next day, after a hearty breakfast, they were to have a ride through the forest, along with her brothers. Willas preferred to stay on the side and have good chats with his father and the other two Lords, while Garlan was already out with his Lady wife. That left Margaery to entertain Sansa, who didn’t want to get her dress dirty in the woods, even though she would have gladly ridden with Loras. At least, with Margaery, who was her age, she could chat for hours and walk through the gardens.

Arya, however, jumped up and down in excitement and insisted she rides with Y/N, who could only chuckle and agree, despite Robb and Jon shaking their head at the young girl’s stubbornness. 

The young ones had a lot of fun, riding and hunting game, then at night, the royal kitchen would make a feast from their triumphant victory. Unfortunately for everyone, the retinue had to return back home after a week, and though it felt like barely a few moments had passed, it was time for them to leave...

But not without the Stark Lord inviting the Highgarden Lord and his children over in the North - The reasons mattered little - Y/N was more than excited to see the beauty of the North, as Ramsay had described it, especially after he, himself, had invited the girl while in private. Since the day that the envoy left, Y/N was all over her father, telling him to start preparing for the long journey up the King’s Road, all the way to Winterfell.

Moments passed like hours, hours like days and days like weeks, and than months, but finally, after far too many months of waiting, Mace Tyrell allowed his eldest daughter to go first up North, for a brief journey towards the Dreadfort - Though the man wasn’t too happy that his sweet Y/N has become smitten with a bastard, he knew very well that Lord Bolton was the second most powerful man in the North, and was fighting hard to get his son ligitimised. He hated the idea of settling for second best, but at the same time, his darling had never been status-ambitious like her grandmother or her youngest sister, preferring to enjoy life to the fullest - And, of course, how could he deny his darling Y/N the freedom of falling in love, something all nobles had been prived of for so many centuries on end? Though she has never proven to be a romantic, Mace and Alerie both hoped that, just like her twin brother, Y/N would meet a man that will make her feel like a maiden from the bards’ love stories, like Florian and Jonquil.

Y/N was warmly welcomed in the Dreadfort by none other than the Snow boy himself, who wore a large, excited smile on his face, and he gallantly invited the lady inside the humble abode, as he called it - How could he compare his small fort to the gracious palace of the Highgarden, after all? Not wealth, nor grandeur could come anywhere close to what he had witnessed in the beautiful South.

However much Ramsay wished to get her inside, out of the harsh cold that was reddening her cheeks even more so than the red roses that grew wild, as soon as she heard the squealing of dogs, she found herself rushing towards the kennels. There, Ramsay noticed, she completely ignored Myranda’s presence and ran past her, to the kennel of one bitch that had just gave birth less than a month ago. “My~... Aren’t you so beautiful?” the bastard watched the fascination emanating from the girl - Did she truly love dogs so much, he wondered? Was she maybe that much of an innocent girl, and he misjudged her? “Do you have a death wish, or are you just plain dumb?!” Myranda angrily shrieked at the beautiful lady, shocked at how boldly she knelt by the bitch’s side. “You don’t just go next to a bitch that just gave birth! It will think you’re trying to harm her pups and she will attack you. It’s common knowledge!” however much Ramsay wanted to slap Myranda for speaking with such insolence with his sweet flower, he couldn’t help but notice Y/N taking her furs off and creating a blanket for the dog and her puppies.  “There, there, you must be cold, aren’t you, darling? All better now, isn’t it? Sweet lady, you must eat well and keep warm if you and your babies want to keep strong.” he watched as the dog sniffed Y/N’s palm, only to lean its head onto it... Acting like a spoiled pup, melting in the caring, loving touch of the nurturing lady.  “Wh-What the hell are you doing -- Are you insane?! You can’t -- You can’t just -- That’s our most aggressive bitch, you can’t just tame her like that, she’ll become useless!” the kennel master’s daughter roughly grabbed at Lady Tyrell’s dress, pulling her away from the dogs - Though much surprising was that the bitch rose and started growling menacingly at her. Myranda could only stare at the bitch in shock and slight fear - None of the dogs ever dared growl at her, let alone snarl and bare their fangs at her. She was the dog whisperer! The one tasked with taking care of her beloved Lord Ramsay’s precious bitches! How dare that... That whore interfere! How dare she mess everything?! “Myranda.” the woman froze, feeling complete dread take over her senses. “It is clear that Lady Tyrell here is far more competent with dogs than you, the kennel master’s own daughter, are.” a bead of sweat ran down her forehead from the sheer pressure of his stern, ice-cold voice. “If even the dogs are going against you for your silly mistake, then I believe you should leave for the day. I and Lady Y/N will be taking care of them for now.” “B-But R-Ramsay, I-- I--... Sh-She---” the skinny woman’s otherwise dominant and harsh eyes became wide with fear as her master stepped closer to her, those gargoyle-like eyes staring deep into her soul, and for a second there, she could see herself being flayed alive. “Leave.” he ordered. “I will think of a proper punishment later.” with a flick of his gloved hand, Myranda whimpered and ran out of the kennels. Ramsay took a deep breath before kneeling by Y/N’s side. “Forgive her, My Lady, she overreacted. She wasn’t aware of who you are, otherwise she wouldn’t have spoken out of line.” Y/N smiled softly at him, before pulling him towards the dog. “It is quite alright, I don’t mind. In fact, it was I who was in the wrong. Lady Myranda tried to warn me, though my recklessness could have cost me my hand, or perhaps worse.” Ramsay looked into those glimmering eyes, and without much thinking, he grasped her chin and forced her to look at him - It earned a growl from the bitch, though Y/N pat her head enough to calm her down. “Incompetent slaves ought to be reprimanded and put in their place, My Sweet Lady, otherwise they grow bold and misbehave.” his tone changed to a more whispery one, which only seemed to grow her own smile. “It is not up to me to reprimand a servant that is not of mine own, especially as she simply tried to save me from a sure mauling.” he could see the corner of her mouth twitch upwards, just a little bit. “After all... Slaves and bastards aren’t too different in the eyes of the people, are they?” Ramsay’s eyes seemed to flash, grabbing her face closer to his, only for the dog to outright bark at him. “My Beautiful Lady resembles the flower with her own name - Beautiful, yet poisonous and deadly. Perhaps I ought to reconsider the nickname I address you as.” “Sweet Ramsay, I think Lady Dog is trying to tell you that you should be more gentle with me.” she softly put her hand over his, releasing the grasp on her face. “After all, I’m just a little lady, frail as a flower, and afraid of getting hurt.” “Do you even believe your own lies, My Lady?” Y/N smiled at him, tilting her head to the side, completely innocent - Though Ramsay knew that sparkle in her eyes very well - It was a challenge - She was provoking him. “You once called me the Queen of the Moon, Sweet Ramsay - It wouldn’t bode well for you to treat me any less than that.” the man scoffed, an amused smirk on his face as he took off his coat and draped it over her shoulders, bringing her closer to his body. “Flowers freeze in this cold, My Lady. You should come inside and warm yourself up. You must be tired after such a long journey, and Myranda’s less than optimal behaviour wasn’t the greeting that a princess like you deserves.” the man helped her up, and with a hand placed on the middle of her back, he guided her inside the unexpectedly warm fort, into a cozy room, clean and already warm. “I will have the servants bring you dinner here. The maids will know better than I, the kind of hospitality that a lady needs.” he bowed his head at her slightly, watching as she went for the window, and she looked outside, a serene look on her face. “Does it mean that you’re already leaving me alone? Well - I suppose I won’t mind much. The view here is spectacular - And I have some puppies to care for, and books plenty to read. I doubt I’ll get bored, even without your great company.” she hummed, not even sparing him a single glance. “Your room is across mine own.” she needn’t look at him to feel the forming smirk on his face. “For any reason you wish to see me, I will be at your disposal, whatever hour of the day or night, my sweet lady.” “That is a proposal that I will be taking to heart. Thank you for such lovely and warm hospitality, my sweet Ramsay, I appreciate your kindness and care for me.” she turned to him, holding her hand over her heart. “It is my first time here, up North, after all.” he was so smitten with that soft, tender voice of hers - But more, he was head over heels with the mystery hidden behind that angelic facade of hers. “By all means, my lady. Although the North isn’t as wealthy and welcoming as the South, we still strive to show its beauty, for there is plenty.” with a charming smile, Ramsay left the room, allowing the girl to be attended to by the maid.

The maid was Myranda, Y/N realised with great amusement, and she was nowhere near as talkative as before, when she’d snapped at her. Y/N smiled sweetly at the dog caretaker, but it wasn’t difficult to realise that the reason for her muteness was the emotion she was failing so miserably to hide. She was so jealous. 

Was it her wealth? Her beauty and grace? Her noble status? - Or, perhaps, it was Ramsay’s evident interest in the Tyrell girl that she was so envious of. Either way, it didn’t matter - Y/N was loving the torment storming behind those blue eyes - Those eyes of her were kinda pretty, Y/N thought, yet they somehow became incredibly dull on her. They didn’t fit her. She was dull.

With the expected curtesy, Myranda brought the tray of food and beverages inside the room, placing it carefully on the table next to the fireplace, yet despite how annoyingly chatty she previously was - Now, she remained silent. Good. Her voice was rather grating.

“My Lady.” unfortunately, she had to open mouth of hers - Y/N noticed she had applied some make up, and her lips were deep, blood red. Awful colour on her. “My Lord asked me to draw a bath for you after you’ve eaten.” “Very well, you may do so.” the Tyrell beauty sat at the table and kept herself busy by reading a book whilst eating the tasty dishes. The meat was unexpectedly tender - Y/N was sure this must be some kind of venison done with a secret recipe that they didn’t have in the South. It was perfectly delicious, and the text was rather interesting - If only Myranda’s presence hadn’t been such a hindrance... At least her maids were better company and knew when to give her the much needed quiet, alone time that she so greatly needed - It was such a chore, engaging in social interactions. “You are very beautiful, My Lady. Where are you from, if I may ask?” Myranda spoke, sniffing the powerful, sweet floral perfume. “Highgarden.” one of Y/N’s maids spoke in her stead, not wanting their lady to be interrupted whilst busy. “Lady Y/N Tyrell is the most beautiful maiden in the Reach.” Leana smiled dearly at her lady. “Ah!” Y/N snapped her head towards her friend. “Margy is!” Leana’s smile widened. “My Lady, forgive me for disagreeing with you - Whilst Lady Margaery is, indeed, the Rose of Highgarden, I cannot help but find your beauty above any word from every vocabulary in Westeros, and beyond.” “You flatter me so, my sweet Leana, you needn’t!” Y/N hid her flustered face with the book she was reading. “There were others before you. All of them just as beautiful, or maybe even more than you.” Myranda’s eerily soothing voice spoke, her fingers tracing the water, feeling its temperature. “You are not that special to him... My Lady.” she offered Lady Tyrell a small, venomous smile. “Lord Ramsay gets bored very quickly.” Whilst Leana was ready to speak up and defend her lady, Y/N simply smiled sweetly at Myranda, gesturing for her maid to remain quiet. “Is that so? Thank you, I will keep that in mind, erh--...” Y/N smiled wider, taunting her. “What was your name again? Meera? Maria?” “Myranda, My Lady.” the girl almost snapped. Y/N let out a small ‘ah’ sound, though the kennel master could see that she was acting. “Right. A name as dull as you. It fits you!” she said. “Will you tell me about these ladies that preceded me, then?” Y/N could see the way Myranda was trying so hard not to break her composure, and with each twitch of her face, she was feeling more and more ecstatic. “Let’s see... There was Kyra, the blacksmith’s daughter. She was taller than you, with a lovely figure... But... She talked, and... Talked and talked... And Ramsay grew tired of that.” Myranda spoke, adding more boiled water to the tub. “And then there was Violet... She had gorgeous blonde hair... Well... She got pregnant, and - That was boring.” she chuckled lightly. “Then... Tansy... Such a sweet girl, much like you.” Myranda grinned. “Of course, sweet girls get a bit... Dull... After a while, don’t they?” she stared deep into Y/N’s eyes, hoping to see the fright and alert. There was nothing but twinkling of amusement. “Ramsay let me come with him on that hunt.” “Then, when is it your turn?” Myranda’s smile faltered in surprise. “I wonder if I need to do anything more than batting my pretty lashes at him, to let me come to your hunt. I’m a pretty good shot, you know, he even praised me when we went hunting last month.” she giggled sweetly.  “Just because you’re a new hyper-obsession of his, doesn’t mean you’ll last. They all exhausted their use fairly quick. It’s their fault for being boring. Noble women like you, especially, are the most dull of all. No personality, no interests - You just sit in a corner, have a pretty smile and you embroider some handkerchief.” Myranda shot to her feet immediately, not realising her outburst. “If I’m the new obsession, it just means you’re old news. Remember how he scolded you earlier today? He didn’t seem too happy with you. Were you... Jealous, Marla?” the woman spat her name again, correcting her. “Ah, yes, forgive me - It is not easy remembering such a stale name.”  “He promised to marry me! Ramsay always kept his promises to me!” she almost looked like a bratty child, with angry tears making her eyes gleam. “And you truly believed that?” Y/N widened her eyes, letting out a fake, dramatic gasp as she got up and called for Leana to unlace her dress. “Oh, sweet girl, how naive must you be - So blind and deaf, so muddle-headed, to think that the man who’s trying to get himself legitimised as the next Lord Bolton would actually spare you another glance once he gets that title and will realise how absolutely tiresome your ugly jealousy is. He won’t have any time for the silly temper tantrums of a dumb, little girl who thinks she is going to marry the man of her dreams.” Y/N hummed in amusement, feeling the water-like material of her dress falling down to the ground, revealing her gorgeous silhouette and harmonious curves in all their glory, only to take in another sharp inhale, once she noticed the gears of Myranda’s brain working, fear and doubt overwhelming her, as well as a sense of perfect inferiority, seeing the Goddess body of the Tyrell woman. “No, don’t tell me...” she said, pitying her. “You thought that... By offering him your flower, he was truly going to commit to you? Oh, darling, you sweet, sweet girl - How foolish can you get? Don’t you know that mundane, predictable thoughts like these are...” Y/N grinned wickedly, making Myranda’s blood freeze in her bloodstream. “Boring.”

Myranda felt her heart stop, and with a kind of uneasiness that she hasn’t felt in a long time, she quickly left the room, allowing Y/N and her maids to giggle and continue gossiping and making fun of the kennel master’s daughter. What a delusional girl.

Y/N stepped into the hot water and allowed the steam to soothe her tired muscles, just allowing her maid to clean her and oil her with the sweetest perfumes that the South can create. Once it got late enough into the night, Y/N, wearing a light sleeping gown that would have been perfect for the Reach, yet not so much for the chilly nights of the North - Draping herself in furs yet remaining barefoot, she swiftly stepped out of the room and with a soft knock, she creaked open the door, calling out his name. “Sweet Ramsay, are you awake?” He must have been asleep, as he hadn’t answered to her whispery voice - It only made Y/N bolder, closing the door behind her and quietly tip-toe to his bed. His pretty face was being illuminated by the moonlight peeking through the window, though Y/N could only stare at the man sleeping without his shirt, and she felt a cold shiver down her spine - Were all Northmen so cold resistant, she wondered.

She crouched by his face and trailed the back of her fingers by his sculpted jaw. He looked so peaceful and innocent sleeping, it was like he was a whole other person. “My Sweet Ramsay, are you having nice dreams?” Unexpectedly, her hand got grabbed, and with outstanding force and another hand on her body, she got pulled into the man’s tight arms. “They are, now that you’re here.” his low, husky voice spoke. “Were you missing me so much that you couldn’t sleep, my sweet flower?” “Yes.” she breathed out, already feeling her body warm under the furs, held flush against his hot body. “So genuine. Very endearing.” Y/N could feel his body shaking softly from one attractive chuckle. “You were cold, weren’t you?” “O, you’ve found me out!” she nuzzled in the crook of his neck. “I didn’t mean to appear as though I’m trying to make use of you... Though I cannot deny that I am already feeling so much better.” “Had that useless wench forgotten to do the fire in your room?” the man grumbled. “That must have been my fault - I think I upset Lady Myranda with my teasing. She walked away with tears in her eyes. I called her name, but... I think I really made her sad. Forgive me, sweet Ramsay.” that sickly sweet voice of hers only made him scoff in mock amusement. “Whatever you said to her, she’ll get over it.” he seemed harsh. “There is no wrong you can do here, especially against some slave girl that can’t even do her job right.” “Please, sweet Ramsay, don’t be so harsh with her - It is not her fault that she is still dreaming like a little girl.” the man hummed questioningly. “She was so happy, speaking about you, I couldn’t help but tease her a little - You know, like friends. Alas, I think I must have gone a bit over board for someone who isn’t as close to me as any of my friends back home.” “What kind of idiocy has she bored you with?” Ramsay was now wide awake, already thinking of a way to punish that stupid slut.  “No, No, my darling, love is not something boring, nor is the sweet promise of a happy marriage!” Y/N shifted up, resting on her forearms to get a better look at the man. “She seemed so delighted, thinking about you and your future together. It was so precious, mind you.” Ramsay remained quiet for a few seconds. “You have gone quiet, sweet Ramsay - Have I... Bored you already?” The man took a sharp breath, his hands finding their rightful place, cupping her cheeks. “You could never bore me, My Sweet Flower. I was just wondering the extent of Myranda’s delusions. Stupid girl believes everything anyone tells her - It’s as if she is incapable of thinking.” “Ahh, no wonder she was so convinced you loved her the most.” Ramsay was almost fascinated with the way she pretended to care for Myranda’s feelings, but the mocking sweet tone with which she was talking only made it even more amusing, were it not for the internal anger he felt simply thinking about that wretch. “Did she speak ill of you in any way?” he asked, his voice almost showing his rage and how close he was to marching up and wringing her neck like a pigeon’s. “Oh no, not at all! Though she did mention some other ladies. One tall with a lovely figure, though very talkative. The other, she said, got pregnant... And the last one was a sweet girl, just like me - And, just like me, she was also incredibly boring - Or so Myranda described them. Ah... What were their names... Forgive me, I cannot remember their names... No, wait - I think one of them was... Kyra? Was she the blacksmith’s daughter? Ah, yes, she was the talkative one, who talked so much that she bored you to death... Just like I am, right now...” she stopped speaking abruptly, turning her head to the side as though to mimic guilt and shame. “If anyone speaks too much is Myranda, not you.” Ramsay got in a sitting position, dragging her up with him. “Has she also told you what I did with them, once I got bored of them? Has she threatened you?” “I’m very happy to know that I’m not disinteresting you with how much I’m chatting - You see, I’m used to talking so much with people I like, I tend to forget all courtesies.” she, inching closer to him.  “Speak as much as you will, I find not only your voice, but your words also, to be enticing and worth hearing.” the corner of his mouth twitched upwards. “Myranda told me about these... Hunts you’re attending. She did say you allowed her to join you once, and I... Was wondering if you’d entertain me also with such activity. I believe I proved my sharpshooter skills last month.” she leaned in so close to his face that he could almost feel her plump lips touching his. “Oh, sweet lady, if only you knew what that implied, you wouldn’t be wearing that innocent smile on this perfect face of yours.” his chuckle sent shivers down her spine. “But I do know, my darling. I do know.” his eyebrows slowly rose up in surprise. “I don’t need the image of a small, pink, flayed man to know that your hunts must hold some kind of peculiarity that would serve as entertainment.” she smiled more. “Are those lovely dogs involved too?” The air was punched out of his lungs - How can someone so perfectly angelic, so seemingly innocent, this noble lady that’s supposed to be frail like a flower - She was speaking so tenderly and sweet about hunting people! She was an oxymoron, and he, was in love with her. “I want you to come for every hunt from now on, my Moon Queen.” That happy smile, along with the soft pink painting her cheeks, only made his heart beat so, so fast in anticipation. “Can we have Myranda’s hunt soon?” that venomous sweetness was enough to drive the bastard over the edge, and instinctively he grabbed her hips and brought her over his lap, pulling her flush against his chest. Her slender legs straddling him, and the way she felt against his pelvis only made him grow wilder and his grip on her flesh got tighter. He wasn’t thinking when he tried to slam his lips against her own, nor did he realise that instead of those petals, his mouth came in contact with her palm. Through his bewilderment, he noticed that vixen-like grin of hers, unreadable and enigmatic. “Sweet Ramsay, you are running so fast to action, you’re intimidating me. I am not Kyra, nor Violet or Tansy... And least of all, not your dearest Myranda. Are you trying to scare a little maiden such as myself?” Slowly she removed her hand, gazing at the man’s beautiful blue eyes. “Could it be that you’re intentionally trying to get a rise out of me? “ “Is it working?” the way she tilted her head to the side so cutely made him want to throw her down on the bed and claim her. “It is.” he admitted, his jaw gritted down as a way of holding back his animalistic urges. “Good!” that cheeky, chirpy way she exclaimed drove him mad, as she rolled to the side and cuddled into him. “Will you keep me warm, sweet Ramsay?” “Every night, my sweet lady.”

How was he supposed to keep his hands from lingering down that warm skin of hers, or hold back from having his fingers grip down on her flesh so hard that it left bruises, all due to his insatiable desire for her? If she was just any slave girl from the North, he could have shackled her down and claimed her in any way he so imagined - And only the Gods knew how very creative he was when it came to the pleasure-taking he was crazy over... But Y/N was from an affluent family, renowned all over Westeros and far beyond, second only to the Lannisters. Even if he wanted to re-enact all his perverse fantasies about this mischievous little vixen, he knew there will be hell to pay, and any claim of legitimacy would be thrown out the window.

Still, she didn’t seem opposed to getting intimately close to him in the least - She showed no signs of fear when she implied hunting down Myranda, nor did she seem intimidated by the bitch’s failed attempts of taunting her - More, she made her cry, if the story was as true as she claimed it to be, and truly, he was disappointed that he wasn’t there to watch the interaction go. He long knew how annoyingly jealous Myranda was of any girl that he bedded or showed any kind of personal interest in, going as far as to sabotage them, and more - But she was beginning, at a rapid pace even, to get stale, and no amount of perversion or unheard of pleasing methods could save her from her fate if she continued to whine about any silly little thing.

Y/N was different - He could read what she was thinking, and the games she played were far more interesting. She was fun to be around, and that innocent act of hers, pretending to be a small and naive little bunny, all righteous and benevolent was nothing more than the beauty of a rose with poisoned thorns. Here she lay, her body softly going up and down with each of her inhales and exhales, as she slept so peacefully, nuzzled to his side, just like a fawn cuddling with a predator ready to tear her apart - But she trusted the killer wouldn’t harm her. Was it because of her status? Her family? Or simply, she could feel how taken he was with her, from the very first second that his eyes met hers and he saw that playful and slightly illicit twinkle in those beautiful eyes of hers?

For a whole week he will have her all for himself, yet at arm length; So close, yet so very far away, and no matter how much he wanted to snatch that beautiful, blooming flower of hers, he was forcefully held back, shackled to the wall and left to drip with lust like a ferocious wolf watching a lamb with snow-white fleece, prance around fearing no danger in the world.

Patience was never one strong suit of his, but now, he had to be. He cared little that Y/N Tyrell was a noble woman and being with her would help his claims at legitimacy, and he cared even less that he had to marry a woman of status whilst having promised the flock of girls surrounding him already his heart. He had no heart - And even if he did, it was already taken by the sheep wearing wolf’s clothing and strutting around him, just closely out of reach. He wanted to eat her whole, and then some more. He wanted to drink her honey and feast on her strawberry tarts, sickly sweet yet so addicting. He wanted to hear her sing the thrills of the nightingales every night as he looks down from above her, and he wants to feel the way her body dances involutarily from the pleasure he offers her. 

And most of all, he wanted to see that pleasure-drunk expression of hers, all bashful as she’s driven off the edge, and while she tries to hide from shame, he’s going to force her to look him straight into his eyes and drink in her gasps and moans with another kiss, feeling her stiff body gradually grow lax in his arms, seeing only the stars, and him amongst them.

Their sharing of not only a room but the bed also continued for the rest of the week, without Y/N even bothering to blame Myranda’s lack of brain for the coldness of her own dormitory - She has made it clear already that she simply wanted to display a pretext to sleep with him, and Ramsay was more than thrilled with such a notion - After all, it wasn’t often that he fell asleep and woke up to the same woman, beautiful above all and enticing as very select few.

Still, if Ramsay could feel jealousy, it would be on his own dogs, though he’d rather say he was feeling as territorial as his bitches, yet maybe not even then. He was more than content to see someone actually capable of bonding with his dogs as well as he did, while also being obeyed so well. One would think the daughter of the kennel master would know dogs better than human - Alas, Myranda was capable of none of those - But Y/N was, and that mattered most.

“There, there, mommy, you and your sweet puppies have to stay comfortable and warm. The cold of the North is very harsh, even if you’re used to it.” the mother dog whined, happy, as she was being spoiled, kissed and caressed by the woman. Y/N continued praising and loving the dog, and though she was a large breed with long, thick, black hair, looking more like a bear than a dog, she had the cutest name - Faye. Y/N wondered who Faye was, before she was killed - How did she get so dull that Ramsay had her kill, who was she while still alive, how did she look and so on. “Beautiful, sweet Faye, you are so loved, my darling.” she was so absorbed in her pampering of the canine that she didn’t hear the intruder stepping towards them until it was too late. “You stupid girl - These are hunting dogs, not pets! They are supposed to stay vicious, starved, to mauls and rip apart the prey... Not... Not this - Whatever this is! You’ve ruined them! Ruined the whole batch and the bitch!” Myranda’s glare was as harsh as the wind that was blowing outside. “I beg to disagree Myranda, though I can see why it would seem offensive, considering you were born and raised among dogs. You see - Fear is a double-edged sword when it comes to obedience. Dogs may be loyal, but fear is fickle. They can always turn on you, if pushed enough. If you treat them well, they will treat you just as well, but tenfold. Just like people.” Y/N smiled defiantly at her, only making her growl as well as any mutt. “Why did you come here?! To steal my man? To steal my job? You’re already so rich that you don’t know what to do with your wealth - Did you come here specifically to bring me misery and rob me of anything I have?!” Myranda’s yelling only proved to make the dog snarl at her as a warning. “Even the dogs hate me now - Because of you!” “Once again, I’m inclined to disagree, mostly because... Living beings aren’t property and Ramsay was never yours. If you want to play technicalities, it was you who was his, not the other way around - Even more, you were... Naive enough to believe he would actually marry you. Silly girl, you don’t know him half as well as you think you do.” the Tyrell’s mocking smile proved enough to drive the other one off the edge of her sanity, and she took out a dagger from her waist and tried to push her away to get ahold of the pups and kill them. What a stupid move, Y/N thought as she grabbed her arm and tried to wrestle her off. “Have you gone mad?! How could you do that?!” “GET OFF ME, YOU STUPID WHORE! I’M GETTING RID OF ANY LINGER OF YOUR PRESENCE IN THIS PLACE - BEGINNING WITH THIS LOT, AND NEXT - YOU!” Myranda’s growls echoed through the humid kennels as she tried to launch at the dogs once more, but the noblewoman leapt up to shield them, her shoulder proving the stabbing point of the blade.  “Leave, Myranda! Get out and calm yourself - You’re being irrational!” Faye, too, jumped to her paws and started aggressively roaring at the attacker, ready to maul her off the same as she did for her namesake - But she stopped, as soon as another pair of steps seemed to bother the squaffle between the two women.

Ramsay’s blue eyes, usually frozen as the water of the North, were now blazing with pure rage - How dare that whore attempt to kill his beautiful Y/N? Did she have a death wish and had no clue how to act upon it? He had as many inventive killing methods, as he had pleasuring ones, and perhaps even more - Myranda, of all people, the expendable woman who lasted the longest so far should have known best. “Myranda.” his voice seemed even colder than the weather outside, and the woman seemed to submissively let the knife drop with a loud, resounding clank, as she stepped away with tearful eyes. “M-My Love...! Y-You’re here! You - You have to see what she’s done, she -- She was trying to TAME the girls, she -- She was SPOILING them! She was RUINING them! My love, you must do something about this--” even louder than the sound the dagger made, the slap which she received was enough to make even Y/N flinch, watching Myranda painfully fall to the ground like a sack of potatoes. “M-My love...?!” she seemed absolutely betrayed - What a delusional woman. “You have been testing my patience recently, Myranda. If I’d known you were suicidal, I’d have killed you already. Not only you bore me to death, you also piss me off. That’s a worse transgression than either of those before you. I’ve been merciful and understanding with you so far, but I’ve reached my limit.” Myranda, terrified out of her mind, scrambled over to embrace his feet, only to get kicked in the face and made to fly backwards. She was crying rivers. “Don’t touch me with those filthy hands of yours.” he sneered at her.

Leaving her to grovel on the ground, Ramsay stepped in front of his beloved and carefully touched her bleeding shoulder. He slipped off the material of her dress, only to hear the large dog snarling at him. “Shhh, sweetling, don’t worry, he means no harm to me. Thank you for protecting me, my sweet Faye.” Ramsay watched the tender way with which she was praising the dog, and petting her hair. Maternal bitches were fickle and dangerous, yet with Y/N, Faye seemed completely loyal. Good. “Come. I’ll treat it for you.” he spoke gently to her, hoping the harshness of his tone had completely dissipated. Y/N worriedly looked down at Myranda - the Bastard realised she was afraid not for her, but for the neurotic behaviour she displayed as she tried to attack the pups. “I don’t trust her around Faye and her puppies. I don’t want them to get injured because of her.” “THE DOGS ARE TAINTED BECAUSE OF YOU! YOU RUINED THEM!” before Myranda could recover the knife, Y/N already kicked it away - Though the woman was so far gone that she tackled her to the ground, yelling all sorts of perversions and curses as she tried to get ahold of the noble lady’s throat and squeeze the life out of her. Before Ramsay could rip her off, and throw her in the dungeons to punish later, Faye leapt sprung on her and threw her off her new master, chewing at her arms and legs. “Faye! Sweetling, stop, come here - Faye! Leave her be!” much to the bastard’s shock, the dog obeyed immediately and went to the lady’s side, licking at her wound and standing protectively over here. “There, there, sweet girl. Clever girl. You are fantastic.” Ramsay almost felt jealous, with the amount of kisses the bitch was receiving, but the fact still stood - The dog’s loyalty changed in the course of five days. Myranda was the enemy, whilst Y/N was the loving master whom the dog obeyed. Fascinating. He wasn’t sure if the dog could sense the kindness and purity of her soul, or simply, behaved like any manipulated human - But whatever it was that Y/N was doing, she was doing perfectly fine, the same as when she captured his interest and made him fawn over her so completely. “Faye, stand down girl. I’ll take care of Y/N for you.” he felt compelled to offer the dog a few pats on her head, and surprisingly, she licked his hand affectionately - It must have been the way he was always by Y/N’s side whenever she spoiled the dogs, why Faye now possibly saw him as this benevolent master all of a sudden - It was even better than he expected. “As for you, Myranda...” he glared down with disgust at the cowering woman. “Make yourself comfortable in the dungeons.” she whimpered, afraid of the consequences of her own actions. Y/N has completely bewitched her beloved Ramsay Snow. She ruined him.

As Y/N sat on the edge of his bed, her bare shoulder being carefully treated by the man with unexpected delicacy and tenderness - He wasn’t even aware that he, Ramsay Snow, the feared bastard of the North, kneeling in front of her, was capable of something like this... But somehow, it felt... Good. It felt... Natural, like this was how things were supposed to go. He was to protect his fair maiden, and she was to look at him with those pretty eyes of hers, bat her lashes so bashfully and offer him a timid smile. “Does it hurt, my sweet flower?” he looked in her eyes so deep... Deep enough, as he wished he would be buried in her already. “You are very attentive with me, my dear, there is nothing that can hurt if it is you caring for me.” was she using such words to purposely throw him off the rails? Did she want to be thrown on the bed and claimed on the spot? To have her sweet flower taken from her - And that he’ll be gentle with her, and loving, and will make sure it won’t hurt at all? “My intention is to make sure you’re never going to experience anything negative, especially pain. I will deal with that wench later.” he found himself gulping - The more he looked at the unveiled skin, the more he wanted to rip the thin material of her dress and see her in all her glory. “You will have to excuse Myranda. She... Was not in the right state of mind. It cannot be easy for her to accept that... Well... She might still have some more to learn.” Ramsay could see how she tried to find the rights words as to not outright shade the bitch who attacked her, and still maintain that darling facade of hers. “Stop trying to protect her.” he snapped at her. “She knows the rules. If she breaks them, it is her own fault.” Ramsay didn’t realise the edge of his voice until it was too late. “Forgive my tone, My Lady, I didn’t mean to scare you.” But she wasn’t scared, he noticed - Instead, she smiled at him, almost as though it enticed her. “There is nothing to forgive, my sweet Ramsay, after all, you simply spoke your mind - And you are right - She is your servant, and you know  best the way to discipline them. She is old enough to know how to play this game, and if she was too incompetent to get a grip, it is her own fault. I will not attempt to shield her again from any scolding you’d wish to instill upon her.” Y/N could feel Ramsay’s hands stop working on her wound, and after wrapping it up properly, he rose to his feet, cupping her face. “Then, would you join me in her hunt, after we’ve returned from Winterfell?” that sweet, excited smile of hers made his heart beat so fast that it made his mind go hazy - More, his brain completely stopped working once she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. Her soft lips were even softer than the flowers, and so plump - He never kissed such sweet lips before, nor has he ever been as addicted to kissing a woman as he was with her, after a single kiss. “I would be honoured to join you, my sweet Ramsay.” though he tried to dive in for another kiss, desperate as a thirsty man in the desert, she ducked under his arm and twirled around away from him, a vixen like smile turning his nether regions aflame. “One at a time, sweet Ramsay - One at a time. I wouldn’t want you to get used to quickly to the sweet fragrance of the Moon’s Queen.” her giggle as she waltzed out of the room almost made him lose his balance - What the hell was she doing to him? Maybe Myranda was right, she was destroying and eroding away at his mind to the point of manipulation - Was she manipulating him? Maybe she was, but he didn’t mind anymore - He needed her like he never needed anything else - And one day, he was going to have her for himself, and never share her with anyone else. Y/N Tyrell was his and only his.

Once the week was over, the Tyrell family were finally moving towards the colder regions of the Seven Kingdoms, all the way to the castle of the Stark family, after stopping to the Dreadfort to collect the eldest daughter. Though cold and snowing, the landscapes were already so beautiful, despite how different they looked from back home. The cold shades of green, white, grey and blue were fantastically blended together into such a picturesque framed painting made by the best artists.

The journey was long and tedious, but it was well worth once they arrived to their destination - They were welcomed very warmly, especially by the children, and were shown their rooms. Y/N and Margaery were also shown the hot baths, so they could relax after such a long ride, and they could use it every time they wished to. The feast was rich and very delicious, but something was missing - A certain Bastard from the Dreadfort, who was to arrive the following day - Why he hadn’t joined Y/N, she was not yet aware, but he promised a surprise, to keep her excited and expecting.

The very next day, Y/N was awaiting the untimely arrival of her favourite bastard by doing the most boring things - Giving embroidery lessons to Sansa, Arya, Jeyne and her sister, made by Lady Catelyn and their Septa. How absolutely terrible, doing nothing but embroidering handkerchiefs and dresses. Dull.

When finally, the Sun went down and allowed the majestic moon rise up, the retinue was invited to the feast - And down there, already waiting at a table, was him - The man with brunet hair and the most piercing blue eyes - He had risen his head to scan the commotion, and upon seeing the girl, a smirk had taken place over his previously bland expression. Getting to his feet, he stepped in front of Lady Y/N and bent at the waist, taking her hand and kissing it. Had she gotten more attractive in the time they were apart, or was he simply missing her too much? It has been barely three days - Why was he so addicted to her?

Just like before, the children were sat at a table, to enjoy the merry feast, the singing and the laughter - But feasts were just that, feasts - And Y/N had always thought feasts were boring as all hells, and she was in grave need of entertainment.

“Sweet Ramsay, you once promised to show me the ethereal, vivid lights of the sky that only the North hosts. Let us slip away from this banquet and have a walk, shall we?” young Y/N whispered into the ear of the bastard, only to get up and leave the halls of the Stark feast, hoping that the brunet wouldn’t take too long to follow - And thankfully, he didn’t, for he was right by her side, with his furs over her, seeing as she shivered once she came in contact with the harsh, cold wind. “Your health comes first, My Lady. If it gets too cold for you, we can always return on the morrow, there is no rush.” Ramsay had his arm around her small form, keeping her flushed to his side, under the pretense of keeping her warm. “Alright, alright, that is quite the bargain. Is it far from here?” she kept trying to imagine the snowy cliff that he described days and months prior, but no matter how much she tried, nothing compared to the crystal-like sparkle of the snow as it reflected the silvery light. “Careful steps, My Lady, the ground is frozen and you might slip.” he pointed out, keeping a tight grip on her, worrying with every wobble she’d make. “How darling of you, my dear... Oh, this forest is gorgeous! This green amongst all this fluffy snow... How lovely!” her excited admiring came to a halt soon. “... Ah! Not so lovely when it’s so cold...” the girl eeped as the snow from one of the branches fell onto her head, mixing with her hair as if it was a flower crown. “How clumsy of you, Lady Y/N. Thankfully, we have arrived. Be very careful, the cliff is steep and there is a lake right underneath.” the man warned as he guided her onto the cliff.

As soon as she stepped out of the woods, she gasped and looked up - The dark blue sky was painted with such a vivid palette of colours that she’s never seen even in the most renowned paintings all over Westeros, or far beyond. The way they undulated in the sky, and how, with the scenery, it almost seemed as if a soft lullaby was playing in tune with every move.

Ramsay told her an old tale that, up there, the lights represent the running souls of every animal that ever lived here, in the North, and that it plays with its kin forevermore. The more he spoke, the more fascinated the girl was, and with that, her eyes sparkled even brighter than the moon and stars combined. How could a creature be so beautiful, in her own innocence? And, most of all, why doesn’t he want to break and taint her? Why doesn’t he want to rip her apart and destroy any ounce of hope and happiness embroidered in that heart of hers?

Instead, he reached his hands up to her hair and kicked some of the snow off, letting only a circlet of frozen flowers around her hair. He gazed down, deep into her eyes that were shining with more life and bliss than he’s ever experienced before in his entire life. He wanted to drink her in like the sweetest ale there was and never let her go. “I may not be able to make you a true Queen, however, My Lady, if you would have me, I would love for you to be my Moon’s Queen. A flower more beautiful than any other around her.” though she looked absolutely mesmerised, she leaned in and shared a sweet kiss with the northman, whose cold hands warmed as he held gingerly her soft face. “I have been rather spoiled until this age, I must say. Not only I had no betrothal obligation, but I could freely pursue any of my passions. I would love nothing more than to call you mine own sweet love, though I have not asked for permission from mine Lord Father. I... I dare not go against his kindness.” though her response was timid, the man before her merely kissed her forehead reassuringly. “Worry not about such trivialities, my sweetling. If you so desire, all shall be taken care of.” his heart was beating so fast, just like an obsessed child that finally got the toy he wanted so badly - He felt absolutely on fire with so many emotions that he couldn’t even name. He felt so powerfully that he could almost feel his fingers digging into her flesh to the point of grinding her bones. It was such a strong feeling of possessiveness - Having Y/N being HIS was like a dream, and he was not going to let anyone take her away from him. ”The reason for arriving so late was that we were awaiting a letter from the King.” he spoke, and on his face, a wide grin that looked almost boyish graced his features. “It is long since I have awaited the good news to come - So long, that I feared they may never come - At last, however, my Lord Father had received the letter.” he quickly took the letter from his pocket, and almost shoved it into the girl’s hands from excitement.  The girl, with her frozen fingers, took the paper into her own hands and her eyes skimmed over it - And she gasped, throwing her arms around his neck. “Ramsay -- You did it! You did it! Finally -- O, I am so happy for you!” she pulled him into a few more kisses, much faster and chaste, but they only made the man feel sublime bliss and euphoria. He felt as if he was flying. “Lord Ramsay Bolton.” she breathed out. “That sounds beautiful. Congratulations, my darling, you deserve it. You are now the legitimate heir.” her smile widened even more. “Now that I am a real Lord, I can properly court you and ask your father for your hand in marriage.” he enjoyed so dearly watching the happiness in those fawn eyes of hers - He never imagined that there would ever be a person that would be so genuine with him. She had no reason to use him, and she never scolded him, or looked down on him for being a bastard. In fact, she treated him so much better than anyone ever did, including his own whore of a mother whilst growing up at the mill, or even that heinous Lord father who hated him.

The only one who actually tried to form a bond with him was his half brother... Too bad Ramsay had no intention of having Bolton siblings that would be named heir in his stead. “And once you do... Will you finally tell me of your... Inconspicuous passions of yours? Officially, this time.” the man froze, and his eyes widened in surprise, and a slightly sense of fright - Does she know of his hunting? Or the flaying? Would she run away if she did? He never did confirm anything back at the Dreadfort - Had she somehow gone down to the dungeons and witnessed the tortured and flayed victims? Had Myranda described in morbid details the hunts he officiated? “What is with that look, Lord Bolton? It is unbecoming of someone like you.” she giggled teasingly. “What better way to strike fear into your enemies, than showing them the true meaning of the symbol of your own House?”  Ramsay looked at her, flabbergast - Did he hear those words correctly? That sweet voice of hers, uttering such... Things? Without any bit of fear? “My Lady, what is it that you are implying?” his own voice went lower, barely audible. “Ah, I see, you must be finding some kind joy out of having a lady speaking bluntly.” she hummed as the corner of her mouth twitched upwards, amused, and she brought him closer to her body. “I feel much safer by the side of a man who is unafraid of protecting his people by any means necessary... Whether or not he takes pleasure from inflicting pain on his enemies.” speaking into his ear made the man shudder slightly. “As long as it is not me that comes to harm... Anything goes... And anything can be... Entertaining.” Ramsay gulped and roughly brought the girl at arm’s length, looking down at her with even wider eyes - His breathing was ragged, his heart was beating so, so very fast, and he was feeling heated. In an instant, the new Lord brought his Lady into a deep kiss, from which he didn’t want to let go. How he wanted to bring her to his home again and hold her slender body to his own, without the pestering feeling of so many layers upon layers of furs, leathers and plush clothing.  “You saw right through me, did you not, My Lady?” he asked, between kisses. “And so have you, My Lord.” she retorted immediately, stepping backwards, her hair messy, and in need of breathing.

The lingering feeling of her sweet and delicate petal-like lips left him in such a drunken state, that he didn’t realise the predator going to destroy his new-found euphoria. Before he realised what was going on, Y/N was pushed out of his embrace, close to the edge of the cliff. Ramsay could see the fear and confusion in her eyes, as a loud crack was heard from the hanging body of land she was sprawled over. He yelled out her name and leapt to grab ahold of her hand, hopefully drag her to a safer part of the cliff, but before he could get anywhere close to her, the edge surped, aided by a perfectly aimed arrow, and the girl fell to her doom.

Unable to get up from the snowy ground, Ramsay was in a deep daze, and strongly spiraling. Just now, he had that sweet flower right in his arms, and she was HIS, and now, she had fallen, away from his reach. He was going to destroy the person who did it. Outright shatter. Rip their nails, flay them, pour salt on their flesh, break their bones, gouge their eyes out, pull out each of their teeth, cut a few fingers and toes...

“My love, are you alright?” that voice... That awful voice... He should have wringed her neck and ripped apart her vocal chord and every strand of her hair, should have bashed her skull against the wall until only mush remained. “M-My love...?” how dare she call him that? When did he ever give her the consent to ever use such an endearing name for him, when she’s nothing more than a toy for him to use as he pleases? Has she forgotten her place? Or did she rightfully anticipate that, once he marries Y/N Tyrell, he would throw her in a hunt and get rid of her permanently? What a scared cunt. She doesn’t deserve any bit of him. But why was she in Winterfell, to begin with? She was not taken in the Bolton party - She was supposed to be at the Dreadfort, taking care of the kennel. Pathetic and disobedient. There was going to be hell to pay. “You stupid, dumb cunt. What have I told you, all this time? You think that killing Y/N would make me spare you? No, Myranda, you are dead wrong. Jealousy bores me. You know what happens to people who bore me. And not only you bored me, but you angered me beyond any boundary. You know what I’m going to do to you, don’t you, you dumb whore.” in his fit of rage, he wasn’t even able to rejoice in the desperate, frightened cries, nor in the complete fear that was gleaming in her eyes. No amount of blood spilled on his body, nor how much pain he was putting her through helped, because just like the broken marionette that she was, her strings were cut and she was easily thrown in the trash, where she belonged. But she wasn’t dead - And nor did he want her dead... Not just yet. “If you want me to spare you, you better return home. Otherwise... I will make sure I find you - And when I do... You will wish that the cold had taken you.” Ramsay threatened the woman after choking her, before he took off some of the layers of fur and stared down at the freezing cold water - He was a northman, he had taken such baths before. He wasn’t fond of them, but he was resistant to the cold. All northmen had to get their body strong and immune to such freezing temperatures since very young. “Y/N... Y/N, I will find you... Whether you are dead or alive, I will find your body.” he muttered to himself during his hyper-fixated state, and he jumped down from the cliff, diving down into the bone-chilling freezing water and swimming down.

He easily spotted the girl, as his own fur coat was weighting her down massively, but thanks to his northman strength, he took off her coat and managed to swim up with both the unconscious girl and the furs that will prove, once dry, a perfect means of keeping her body temperature up. That is, if he can even get that thick thing to dry any time soon.

Though difficult, Ramsay was able to swim to the surface and picked the girl up in his arms, looking for some shelter, and much to his shock, there was a small fisherman’s hut and a fire seemed to illuminate from the inside.  He knocked on the door, hoping the peaceful method would make due, but as the fisherman answered the door and outright denied them entry, seeing the pin of the Flayed Man on his vest, Ramsay blocked the door with his boot, and leaning the girl on one of his arms, he took out a dagger and slit the old man’s throat.

What a dumbass. He was going to let him live, should he have been more hospitable. Too bad.

Carefully, the bastard placed the unconscious girl on the furs on the ground so he could take off her clothes and put them on the string to dry, just next to the hot fire that the fisherman had made to cook a stew. ‘Perfect’ the man thought, knowing the girl would need to eat something warm to get better.

But thoughts about the stew were far gone as he reached her undergarments and instinctually pulled them away, leaving her soft body on display. Though a hue milky to light blue from the freezing water, she still looked so enticing that Ramsay thought, just by looking alone, his clothes would dry immediately from how hot he felt. He could catch fire and immolate immediately from how he was suffocating.

The Bolton bastard couldn’t believe that he got to see his paramour’s body like that, thought he was glad that at least, he knew how to save her. How to care for a hypothermic body, how to maintain a fire, dry the furs and make food - Otherwise, she’d be long dead.

Still, he put his own clothes on the string to dry after putting the only blanket available over the girl, tucking her in... But it wasn’t enough. She was shivering, and she looked paler than before. His body was feeling even more hot now that he realised the only way to warm her up was to hold her naked body flushed to his own. What a sacrilege for noblemen of this era. Lady Y/N Tyrell was an unmarried maiden, she should choose death, rather than allow her skin to be touched by a man - A bastard, no less, be him legitimized or not... Or at least, that’s how that stupid church dictated the laws.

He was going to burn the church from the ground and hold Y/N so tight that all of his lustful fire would transfer to her. Getting behind her, he wrapped his strong arms over her small form and kept stroking her damp hair, hoping to take some of the water away from it. 

Time was passing at an unknown time, but unlike her body, his was feeling ablaze. His grip tightened even more once he heard his name being spoken out so lightly, barely above a whisper. Ahh, the way she was mewling out his name - “Ramsay... Ramsay...” was driving him crazy to the point of spontaneously combusting. “Yes, my sweet flower, I am here. Do not fear, I am right here.” he mumbled into her ear, yet it seemed to be left unheard. “Cold... S-So cold... So... C-Cold...” she kept shivering over and over in such a weak voice that it made the bastard’s nether regions go aflame from lust. Her weakened state was so fragile and easy to break. Her body and mind were completely in his hands, and he had complete control over her very being. “We have been staying this way for hours, my sweetling. Are you still cold?” he asked, frowning as he realised that her trembling hasn’t diminished in the least and that her skin was as cold as ice. “Cold... Too cold...” she was repeating the same words like a broken doll. Pondering, Ramsay immediately jolted into a sitting position, taking the girl up to sit on his lap, her soft chest pressed flush against his own. He could feel her hardened rose buds poking him from the cold. “Are you really cold, my darling?” he asked in an almost poisoned-sweet voice, watching her head lull as she nuzzled her face into the side of his neck, her hands placed on his chest, humming in approval. She was so out of it from the cold, it was unreal how vulnerable she was. “I know a way to make you warm from the inside out, but a sweet maiden like you, with no husband, might not agree to it.” he teased her girl in a low, sultry voice. “I’mm’a d-die... S-So cold... D-Don’t wanna...” hearing that, the man cupped her face and made her look at him - Her hooded lids and dazed expression was enough of a trigger for him, and he didn’t await any other answer. He pulled her into a deep kiss, so filled with passion as he’s never kissed anyone ever before, and his hands pulled the blanket over her form, before he got a firm grip on her hips. “Do you want me to warm you up, despite not being you husband? Do you want me, Y/N? Tell me that you want me, Y/N, and I will make you feel as though you are back in that comforting warmth of Highgarden. Just say the words, Y/N. Say them.” he kept pressuring her between kisses, and for a few moments, she felt lucid. Those firm, warm hands were dragging her soul back to her body and re-awakening her miraculously. “You said I was your Moon’s Queen, didn’t you? Then, it matters little whether I have yet a husband or not, for I have you. You said you will go to my father and ask for us to be married. Do not keep me waiting any longer, I am freezing.” the little flower was demanding of him, how brave of her, Ramsay thought, as he felt himself suffocating with desire.  “People of Highgarden are free to explore their pleasure, you once said. Have you ever been touched by a man?” the girl shook her head. “A woman, perhaps?” once again, she denied. “Yourself...?” nothing. “Not as adventurous as you claim, are you, my dear?” “Stop taunting me... I’m freezing.” she muttered, casting her gaze to the side, only to feel the skin of her neck attacked by those lips of his, kissing all over, and licking and sucking, even grazing his teeth, almost as if biting. The girl could barely contain her sweet sighs, her fingers holding tightly onto his shoulders for support. “Don’t hide those beautiful sounds from me, Y/N. I want to witness everything about you.” that low husky voice made the hair on the back of her neck stand up from desire. He wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment, the beginning of a sickness, or simply, the cold, but those splendid eyes of hers were gleaming - It only made her look even more ethereal, if that was even possible. “Your tears are getting me excited, my darling flower - It couldn’t be that this was your plan all along, could it? Fall into my arms like a damsel in distress and seduce me with the sweet melody of a nightingale?” kissing down her throat, Ramsay could feel the vibration of a whimper, which only made him feel more suffocated. “You are driving me crazy, Y/N.” “You’re going to kill me before you can warm me up properly - Was this your plan, then? To make me die of embarrassment?” her bottom lip quivered softly, feeling his hardening member putting pressure on the length of her watery slit. “What is there to be embarrassed about, my sweet flower? It is only what a husband should do to his lovely lady. In fact, it should be me complaining about the things that you do to me. The amount of restraint that I proved was above what I imagined myself capable of.” he sighed into her ear, making her shiver against his touch. “You came over into my bed, nights on end, wearing only that sheer nightgown of yours. You think men and animals aren’t alike, my lady, but when you tease me, there is not much I can do to hold back the feral desire that I have for you.” he felt one of your hands caressing his cheek, then raking up through the messy dark ringlets of his hair, tugging lightly at him - He gritted his teeth to the point of thinking they were going to shatter. He was losing his grip on reality, but he knew he couldn’t give up yet - He didn’t want to harm his sweet flower. “It was no different for me, my sweet Ramsay - Bound to rules and regulations, and a desire to drive you crazy enough to want me more than air itself.” the weak smirk of hers only made him pull her into deeper kisses, his tongue slipping in to explore every inch of her mouth. “I wanted have you as crazy in love for me, as you made me for you. Do you have any idea how much I wanted your arms around me, and you to speak only my name? I want you mine and nobody else’s.” “You’ve been a good girl for me, my sweet flower. Let me reward you for all the times that you’ve teased me to the point of losing my restraints. Were it not for the need of warming you, I would have taken my time with you more, until you were such a mess that the only word you remembered was mine name. I wanted to see you come undone before me, times and times again, and still, I wouldn’t have been satisfied.” carefully, he lay her down on the bed, her back slightly raised by the mound the fur blanket made for her. “It is about time I spoil my sweet lady the way she deserves.”

Ramsay’s hands were on either side of her head, looking down at the precious lady, with her long hair sprawled all over, and a glazed expression of bliss mixed with love and lust sparkling in her eyes. For the first time, Y/N was exposing herself as vulnerable and willing to submit to his every whim. One of his hands trailed down her throat - And oh how delicious she looked with his hand clasping over her neck - And down to the mounds of her breast and the erect buds which he teased with a short pinch. The small twitch of her body only made him feel more smug, as he attacked the rose bud with his tongue, one arm underneath her torso to keep herself up, while the other went down to feel her thigh, and in between. All her beautiful skin was hers to touch, and it was no longer as freezing cold as before. “You are mine, Y/N.” he whispered against her skin as his fingers found their way teasingly trailing across her womanhood with such gentleness that she thought it was a feather torturing her with anticipation.  “Then make me yours.” her comment him chuckle, the vibration against her skin instinctively making her bite her lip as she tried to close her legs to create some friction for her aching, teased core. “I will, darling, I will - Be patient. It is your fault that I can’t help myself from taking my sweet time teasing you. Your body is so honest, betraying your need for me.” a soft gasp escaped as he pulled her thighs apart. “Much better, isn’t it?” and he trailed his fingers towards the little bundle that he knew would create such desperate reactions. “I can’t allow you to do this to yourself. It is me who makes you feel this way - And it is me who will offer you your sweet release.” “You’re so cruel to me - It’s not fair!” she breathed out, her cheeks reddening, her body squirming for his touch.  “Are you feeling bothered just from this, my sweetling? Well - Aren’t you the most precious little thing in the world.” he really couldn’t help himself - His lips found themselves over hers once more, and he took turns between kissing and biting at those soft petals, whilst his hand was applying more pressure, all the way from  the top, and downwards, at such an agonizingly slow pace. His touch was intoxicating. It was maddening. This man was insane, and everything he did made her head spin with every repeated motion, each time, with more and more pressure applied, feeding onto every little gasp and twitch and whimper, her inability to keep quiet making him go feral. “Sing for me, my little nightingale - I love your melody the most.” he said as he held her face up, forcing her to looking into his crazy eyes - Eyes dripping with lust and obsession - He was watching her like a sadist as she tried to keep any bit of composure she had left, and as he cupped her womanhood, playing with her special bud to the point that her body twitched and she gasped - Her torso arches whilst she gripped down on the furs and her legs tried to close once again. “Now THAT is the reaction I was hoping for!” he found himself laughing like an obsessed child, happy to get his puppet move the way it wanted. He drank in her moans as the hand gripping her face was now carefully placed over her throat. “I could snap your neck so easily, like the frail flower that you are - Yet here I am, indulging you to the point of driving myself mad, not only you. You have made a fool out of me, my darling.” Through hooded lids, Y/N looked up at the gorgeous face of the man having far too much fun pleasuring her. “You’re already killing me in more ways than you realise.” with a smirk, his mouth trailed down with kisses from her forehead, down to her chin and her now unveiled throat, and down to her chest, grazing his teeth against her nipple, almost as if he was trying to distract her from the way his fingers were slipping on the wetness of her core.

“My, my, so needy for me, aren’t you? My sweet little flower is so greedy.” his head slowly lowered down to her abdomen, and between her thighs, planting kisses on the supple flesh of her legs. “I will give you pleasure like no woman in this world felt before.” that low, alluring voice of his hypnotised her as he positioned himself against her cunt, her legs over his shoulders, and gripping on the plush of her thighs, his fingers digging into them firmly while his other hand pinned her waist down onto the bed, rendering her unable to squirm from his intoxicating touch, his lips kissed the sensitive area which sent a bolt of electricity through her veins, earning gasp after gasp and timid moans that only made him ache.

His eyes looked up at her, drinking in the way her body convulsed so sincerely just with the way his tongue was teasing her - But he wanted more - So much more. Sinful sighs echoed through the small cabin as he kissed and sucked at her bud, and then more, when his wet, hot tongue danced inside her cave. Sounds so hedonistic that, should the church have known, would have punished her for being a temptress, though the way she mewled his name... “Ramsay... Ramsay...” so broken, her fingers ripping into the furs, drove him over the edge.

His cock was so hard, just by hearing those lustful please of her, so desperate for him, he couldn’t help but imagine that pretty mouth of hers around him, his hand on the back of her head, pushing her up and down until she choked and cried, sucking and kissing and licking him like he was her last meal on earth, and then more, him painting white with his seed, that innocent fawn-like face of her, gorgeous above all, and down on her teats, and on her hands and body, as she begged for more of his milk like the desperate, needy kitten that she is for him.

Oh, the things he’d have her do for him, in the near future - But for now, he was content edging and pleasuring her, just enough so that she’ll be screaming his name and even her parents will hear her, all the way from Winterfell, and then some more. She was such a good little girl, all for him, so hopeful and obedient, and needy - All for him. ONLY for him. HIS Y/N.

“R-Ramsay, stop, I-I... I can’t, I--” that pitched, broken cry, trying to hard to remain coherent yet unable to, as her legs tried to clamp around his head and even his hand was unable of holding her down completely. Lady Y/N Tyrell has experienced her first sweet release, all thanks to his tongue alone.  “What a good girl, Y/N - Was it good, my darling? Do you want more?” he asked, his hands gripping on her tights, holding them on either side of his waist as he towered down to her level, gazing with the eyes of the devil, speaking to her in whispers that would make the devil feel shame. “Y-Yes...” she managed to rasp out despite her embarrassment, yet he took her wrists away from her face as she tried to hide. “Yes - What, my dear? What is it that you want? Tell me what do you want me to do.” he pulled her hands to his face, kissing the inside of her wrist, watching her struggle to speak as honestly as her body did. “I want you - Ramsay, I want you - I want you to claim me. My heart, my soul, my body - Make me yours, my sweet Ramsay. I want you to make me yours.” and how could he resist that sweet voice of hers - The voice of an angel, speaking the filth of the devil - The most beautiful woman in the world craving for his body as much as he did hers. How could he deny her, when he is a slave to her desires. “That’s my good girl.” he cradled her face, refusing to bend down and kiss those sweet lips of hers, and instead, forcing her to watch, to look into his eyes, so dangerously close to her, as he teased her sensitive bundle once again, yet this time, Y/N felt the electricity shortcircuit her wires even more, her whole body felt aflame from the pleasure overheating every inch of her - Every twitch, every mewl, it made the man throb more. He wanted to bury himself inside her warmth at once, but he couldn’t deny how good it felt, toying with her body like this.

The way her body begged so sincerely for him, for his touch, as he entered a single digit into her core - The way she clenched around him only made him imagine the drunkening sensation his cock would feel, held prisoner inside her wet prison. It was no secret - She needn’t say any word, for her body spoke everything she couldn’t, and describes so well the way she loved the way he moved inside of her - So slow, so teasing, curling, sending waves of electrifying pleasure through all her nerves - And he added another finger, and her fingers were digging crevasses into his skin, leaving red trails down his paleness, all from the intense feeling building up more and more. She was so close, Ramsay could feel another release threatening to escape - She was so close, so, so dangerously close that it was excruciating how close it felt - 

He took out his fingers and palmed her cunt, applying pressure on her sensitive bundle, making a tragic heat suffocate her, only to turn pained and frustrated from the denial. “Wh-Why... Why did you stop? You sadistic jerk - Is this torture what I deserve for teasing you?” she panted, deep and in agony, as his smirk only widened with twisted wickedness, and positioned himself to her entrance, leaning down over her body as one hand held up her body, while the other he used to hold himself up, trapping the girl completely under him, getting a better angle at abusing the skin of her neck. “Why, you ask? My sweetling, I simply want you to get so completely lost in this feeling that you won’t know anything else but the pleasure I’m giving you.” he muttered in her ear, feeling her stiffen, and pulling her into a passionate kiss, he slowly entered her soaked heat. Each sweet thrill she made, he drak away, and every time his cock touch a sweet spot, her nails would attack his toned back as if she were a kitten destroying the drapes. “You’re taking me so well, my love.” he said, his mind going black, watching himself pully sheathed inside of her, head held back from the pleasure she was feeling, amplified by her mark he was leaving on her skin, to the point that he was unsure there was any bit of skin left untouched and unkissed. A smile almost impish painted her face, succumbing entirely to the hot waves of pleasure drowning her as her walls clenched down around him, unwilling to let him go.

“Look at you, enjoying yourself so shamelessly. I assure you, no noble lady was ever treated this way by her lord husband. Those arrogant fucks are too afraid to explore the body they crave so much. All they know is to make heirs, but they don’t know how to enjoy it.” his breathing was ragged against her skin, though he was unsure if her mind could hear his words properly. The small bulge he created at her belly with each thrust of his member drove him to madness - She were a slave to his body, as much as he was hers - He disallowed her to get used to any pace, be it faster and sloppy, or slower and deep, yet each time, that sweet spot was hit, she’d let out a new sound that he hadn’t heard before. The cabin was filled with nothing but passionate words spoken with such fire and filth. “My sweet flower, do you want your release?” he asked against her lips, her hands gripping his hair as to force him down into a kiss. “Yes...” she exhaled between the passion. “Then beg me, my darling. Beg me to bring you over the edge of this world.” the girl whined, face red with shame. “If you don’t... Well, I’ve already given you a taste of denial. Tonight I’m feeling merciful - I’m giving you a choice... Do you want to cry my name from the pleasure of release, or... Mayhaps you wish to whine as I leave you here all alone.” he gently captured her quivering bottom lip, graving his teeth over its plumpness. “Though, without me filling you, I suppose you’d get desperate enough to pleasure yourself, and... I cannot deny, your insatiable greed is something that I desire to see.” “I will be the one doing the flaying if you dare leave me like this--” he couldn’t help but grin in amusement - How adorable she looked, attempting to threaten him, all because of her neediness. How very precious.  “Then come undone for me, my love.” he held her even tighter as his pace roughened, her legs wrapped tight around his getting him even closer to her, if possible.

His name was mewled one last time for the night, a sinful, desperate thrill that drove him to an even more brutal pace as he rode her release, watching pleasure take over her senses - Ramsay buried his face into her shoulder, biting onto her flesh and he felt his own release paint her walls white. Once the clouding euphoria start to unfog his mind, he lazily propped himself up, watching the dazed look on Y/N’s face, her chest heaving up and down as she tried to breathe properly after all the pleasure that he drowned her in. Slowly, he took his cock out of her, watching with a sense of accomplishment and devilry as his seed seeped out of her. He hadn’t felt so good before, with his body pushed flush against a woman’s, not did his mind go hay-write when any cunt would shriek his name as he fucked her into oblivion - Yet that body of hers drove him crazy, and her nightingale song was truly special if it was able to burn him like that.

With a satisfied smirk, Ramsay looked down at her flushed face, and played with a strand of her now dry hair - Though her breathing had evened out to some degree, the high was still possessing her. “Was that treatment worthy of a Queen, my sweet flower?” he spoke, taking the lobe of her ear in his mouth, playfully chewing on it, before tracing the shell of her ear with his tongue. “So... When’s the wedding?” she let out an amused exhale, only to find herself switching positions, placed on his lap and with him already inside of her all the way, his arms almost blowing away the air from her lungs as he embraced her tightly, his body glued to her own. “What - Didn’t think I’d just let you go, did you? I’ve got a lot more of the frustration you pent up on me to release, my dear. It is your fault - Own up to it.”

Though the night was long, it passed by like a breeze for the two lovers, intertwined within their lust and desire for once another, yet once the sun was fully up in the sky and the furs and clothes were all but dry, and the food that the old man cooked was finished, the two left the sinful cabin and returned to the castle that housed the Warden of the North and his people. Though they didn’t stay for long, Ramsay, with his new claim of legitimacy, asked Mace Tyrell for his daughter’s hand in marriage, and seeing his sweet  Y/N so excited, he couldn’t help but agree. The Boltons might not be the most affluent family, but relationships in the North were just as important, yet nowhere as much as her happiness.

Once Y/N and Ramsay returned to the Dreadfort for a few days of time spent together, whilst the Reach was to prepare for the wedding ceremony, grandiose and worthy of the second most wealthy in the realm. Meanwhile, the Ramsay invited his darling down to the dungeons, where Myranda was tied up to a wooden X. “Myranda - I present to you Lady Y/N Tyrell, the most beautiful woman in the realm, and, coincidentally, my wife! Isn’t that fantastic?” Ramsay’s poisoned cheerfulness as he presented the woman as though the two never met made the flower chuckle. “Her lips are so sweet, she’s got me addicted.” he continued, pulling her into a tender kiss that only grew more desperate with each and every heartbroken protest from the kennel master’s daughter. “What is it, Myranda? You think Lady Y/N is beautiful? Well, you should see her body! You’ll lose your mind!” with one swift move, Ramsay unlaced and unburdened the Tyrell girl from her dress and pulled her up to sit on a desk, offering the perfect view to the tied up woman, as his hands roamed up and down Y/N’s soft flesh. “I know Myranda, I know - I’ve lost my mind too just seeing her... But when I’m side her and she cries out my name so sweetly... I can’t help but melt and feel like a slave before her.” he admitted, burying himself inside her wet core, his grip on her tightening harshly from how good she felt, but also, the desperate, broken and hopeless sobs from the jealous woman only fueled his animalistic desire for Y/N’s body. “There’s nothing better in this world then getting drunk on you, my sweet Queen of the Moon. I’ll never let go of you.”

After ripping at least two sweet thrills from the woman coming undone in his embrace, Y/N kissed him with so much fire that he was ready to perform more - Until he heard her whisper in his ear, enticing him for illicit activities. “Hey, Myranda - Are you ready for a hunt?”

#got #got x reader #got imagine #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagine #ramsay bolton #ramsay bolton x reader #ramsay bolton imagine #ramsay snow #ramsay snow x reader #ramsay snow imagine #asmo time

[dragons-and-handcuffs]

Imagine...

Ramsay truly loving Stark!reader and that is why she captured winterfell. He is just beyond obsessed with you. He is convinced that he can make you love him and what better way to do it than to make you realize how good he can make you feel. He claims you and fucks you in every corner and tower of the winterfell castle, telling you how much you mean to him. Leaving one of his hounds in your room to "protect" you but actually it's to make sure you don't try to escape. Tying you up on the Bolton cross and teasing you or punishing you till you beg him to fuck you. He just loves to see you give yourself to him. Developing Stockholm Syndrome is inevitable and he just makes you addicted to his touch. And now instead of worrying about your family you just worry if you will be able to satisfy Ramsey. Imagine lying on the bed naked with your legs spread, waiting for him to come and claim you

#hotd #game of thrones #game of thrones imagines #hotd fanfic #hotd headcanon #hotd imagine #hotd imagines #hotd one shot #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #got imagine #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones imagine #ramsey bolton #ramsay bolton #ramsey bolton imagine #ramsay bolton imagine #got fanfiction #got one shot

[francis-writes]

Hi! Would you write Ramsay x reader nsfw headcanons where the reader is his betrothed and at first he thinks she is innocent but on their wedding-night she is really the opposite and they are basically going wild? thanks in advance <3

A/N: it was supposed to be longer but i took a break to argue with transphobes on facebook and now i am so fucking pissed i can't focus on writing

After all, what else could he expect from you. He knew girls from noble homes and all seemed the same - pure, shy, delicate. Boring. Breaking them would be certainly funny but it was not enough for Ramsay. He wanted someone who could match his energy, who would like to get naked and covered in blood. But you were from wealthy and powerful family, so he decided to marry you. And perhaps find a mistress for a good time. You needed only to give him heir and to strengthen his position between lords.

Sure, he was excited for your wedding night. You were young and pretty, and even if you turned out to be cold in bed, he would get his pleasure. Ramsay always got what he wanted.

But the minute he closed doors behind you, you pulled him closer and kissed him passionately as if you were trying to suck out his soul. He was surprised but not disappointed. He grabbed your waist, pressing his body into yours. You could feel his growing erection so you reached your hand down and you started to massage the bulge in his pants.

Ramsay smiled and lifted your skirt, just to squeeze your thigh so hard you gasped. You pushed him away, just to start taking off your dress.

"Damn thing..." you swore under your breath as it turned out to be fastened with too many buttons, ribbons and clasps. Your now husband grew impatient with observing your ineffective struggles and simply ripped it. You stood bare in front of him and he took a moment to admire your body. His new possession. Then he pushed you onto the bed and crawled on top of you, kissing and biting your chest, making sure to left marks. You tilted your head back, enjoying both pain and pleasure while Ramsay squeezed your soft breast and sucked on your nipples, playing with them, using his tongue. You let out a quiet scream when he bit your nipple, you grabbed fistfull of his hair and forcefully pulled his head back. He only gave you a smug grin.

"A bitch shows its teeth" he said, but more with a admiration than a mockery in his tone "Where did you learn that?"

"The say way you learn fighting, by everyday practice" you replied and without giving Ramsay time for saying anything, you took advantage of his surprise and you rolled him onto his back. You leaned over and started kissing his jaw and neck, trying to take off his shirt at the same time. Ramsay helped you, impatient to feel your hands on his body. Soon you got rid of his shirt and pants, there was only warm skin touching warm skin. You moved a bit to make sure his dick touches your wet pussy but doesn't actually enter it. You wanted to torment him a little bit longer.

Unfortunately, Ramsay didn't share your desire and in the moment he felt your excitement between your legs, he pushed you from himself and pinned you to the bed so you couldn't escape.

He entered you. You had lovers before but Ramsay's dick was quite thick and he stretched you a bit. Fortunately you were wet enough so it went smoothly but you enjoyed the sensation of your cunt tightening on his cock. He probably enjoyed your body as well because he immediately started fucking you, thrusting fast and rough. You hold onto his back, your nails furrowing wounds in his skin. Ramsay moaned as your fingers dig into his flesh. You brought one of your hands to your face just to see that you drew blood from his back. Pleased, you licked it off your fingers.

He came on your belly and you raised your eyebrow. "Don't you want an heir like a proper lord?"

Ramsay just smiled to you. "And who says we're finished?" He asked rhetorically and licked his sperm off of you.

Yeah, that was a long night. Just like the next day. And next night. And next-

#ramsay bolton x reader #ramsay bolton imagine #ramsay snow #ramsay bolton #got imagine #asoiaf imagine #ramsay snow x reader

[sassypossumm]

Better

Ramsay gets a fitting send off by the woman he put through literal hell.

My own personal twisted head canon of a fitting end for the man we love to hate

TW: Knife Play, Blood Play, Sexual Themes, Degrading, GOT typical violence, Castration, Discussion of Drugging

Ramsay's eyes opened slowly. The pounding in his head was unbearable. What was the last thing he'd been doing? 

Eating. The last thing he remembered was taking a bite of sausage and looking up to see you staring at him. Ramsay groaned and flexed his wrists. And his blood ran cold. 

"What?" His eyes shot open, and he turned his head only to find his wrist bound. His head whipped in the other direction to find his other wrist also bound. For that matter, his entire body was immobilized. 

"You're awake." His head snapped up and he squinted into the darkness at the sound of your voice. 

"Wife?" He hissed, straining to make out your form as you stepped out of the shadows, torch in hand. Ignoring his voice, you calmly placed the torch in one of the wall sconces and turned to look at him. Ramsay raised a brow at your dead stare. "What is the meaning of this?" Slowly you peeled off your gloves, the ones he'd so kindly gifted you after that poor unfortunate gardener who'd offended Ramsay had disappeared. Walda had gushed over the magnanimous gift. She'd gone on and on about the exceptionally soft quality of the leather. 

Tossing them on the table, you turned your attention away from Ramsay and turned to circle the small fire you'd had lit in the center of the room. Holding out your hands, you rubbed them together and cupped them to your mouth, breathing on them. In the silence Ramsay took the time to fully appreciate his situation. He'd been surreptitiously stripped and bound to one of his own wooden x-shaped crosses. 

"How did you manage to get me here?" His tone was casual, as if you were simply discussing the weather. 

"I drugged you." Turning you looked at him impassively. Ramsay's eyes flickered with excitement, and he licked his lips. 

"I'm intrigued." He chuckled. You merely hummed and approached the table again, running your finger over an assortment of blades you'd meticulously selected. Ramsay's eyes followed your movements hungrily, darkening when you picked up an especially sharp blade. "I cannot imagine what delights you've planned for the evening, sweet wife." An appreciative growl resonated in his throat. 

Running your thumb down the blade, you hissed when it nicked your skin. His eyes narrowed in on the small dot of crimson that bloomed on your thumb. Raising your thumb to your mouth you slowly sucked it clean, looking steadily into his pale eyes. You could see the effects of his breathing shallow in the way his chest rose and fell. His brows furrowed and he glanced down in consternation at his still flaccid cock. His eyes snapped up to meet yours at your dark chuckle. 

"What did you do to me?" The arousal in his eyes was overshadowed by rage. You merely grinned deviously at him and shrugged. 

"A numbing agent, my love." You tapped your cheek thoughtfully with the blade. "You'll find that your nether regions shan't, shall we say... perform effectively at the moment." 

"Free me this instant!" He shouted, face florid as he pulled violently against his restraints. 

"I think not." Stepping closer, you folded your arms and looked up at him calmly. 

"I'll flay your hide for this, woman!" He spat, face a mask of pure hatred. Smirking, you merely wiped the bit of spittle off your cheek and returned his stare. There was nothing but a bone shivering carelessness in your eyes. Were it directed at anyone else, he'd be aroused, but he had the common sense to be on alert with it pointed squarely at him.  

"You know, husband, I decided two things our first night as man and wife." Taking a step closer, the tips of your shoes brushed the wood of the x. 

"And pray tell, what might those things be?" He bit back, clenching his jaw. Slowly you ran the tip of the blade across his jaw and smirked when he twitched. 

"Firstly, that no matter what transpired, or what hell you put me through, I would survive you." You pressed the point lightly into his thrumming pulse before continuing your slow decent. Ramsay's eyes followed the blade's path as you allowed it to slowly graze down his sternum. "And second," You flicked the blade back up to his throat and pressed the tip into his adam's apple. "That your death would be at my own hands." Slowly you raised your eyes to meet his.

Ramsay seemed at war with his own emotions, and it didn't help that he felt the tell-tale stirrings of arousal as his cock began stirring to life at your words. You raised a brow. 

"I tell you I'm going to kill you and you get hard?" Snorting, you tap his cock with the knife. "That's sick Ramsay." 

"You're a bitch." He sneered. 

"Oh, yes, I know." You tapped his cock again with the knife and rounded to the back of the wooden x. "There was some debate around your demise, you know." Ramsay tensed when the cold blade touched his neck. "After my tales, Sansa was quite incensed. She demanded you should be fed to your hounds." Ramsay chuckled at the idea. 

"Preposterous. My hounds would never eat me." 

"Not with how well fed I've been keeping them." You whispered in his ear, dragging the blade slowly down his spine. Ramsay jerked his head to the side and glared at you. 

"You're the reason they weren't hunting well?" 

"You can't honestly tell me you didn't know I ensured their upkeep?" Dragging the blade back up, you casually twisted in into the meat of his shoulder. Ramsay hissed, and squeezed his eyes shut. Glancing around him, you snorted when you saw that his cock was painfully erect. "I suppose for the right cock tease, you were willing to overlook the... inconsequential details. 

"You know me so well, wife." He said dryly, pursing his lips. "But go on, you were telling me about my death." 

"Oh, yes." You continued, pulling the blade away to suck at the wound, staunching the blood with your tongue. Ramsay twitched again, gritting his teeth to suppress a groan. "There." Pulling back, you admired the mark, lightly circling it as blood trickled down his back in a small rivulet. "Letting your hounds consume you would be inhumane. Too visceral, painful, showy. And we both know how I detest the screaming. Jon Snow'd have you beheaded, but somehow, that seems anticlimactic." Propping your chin on his shoulder, you casually traced patterns on his side with the blade. 

"And what did my ever-clever wife propose?" He turned his face to study your expression. Grinning wickedly, you kissed the tip of his nose and dug the blade into the base of his spine. 

"I think you'll be proud of me, Ramsay." His hiss of pain was cut short when you expertly sliced through skin and muscle like butter. "You shouldn't have been so thorough in my education, husband. The knife made quick work, and with a slight flick of your wrist, his spinal cord was severed, leaving him in an almost catatonic state. Rounding back to his front, you traced the blade once more down his sternum. "I hope you appreciate that I didn't want an audience to witness this... display. It's much too intimate. Don't you think?" You tapped his pelvic bone with the knife. Ramsay's eyes could be described as glassy at best, and that was a generous assessment. 

"You'll feel no pain." Your eyes flicked to his as you ran the blade to just below his cock and his eyes widened in silent horror. "After all, we are married. One flesh and all that. And I'd never want myself to suffer that sort of pain." You made slow work of slicing through the sensitive flesh. Ignoring the blood spattering on your skirt and shoes, you opted instead to look into his eyes. "It wasn't all horrid, Ramsay. Just mostly." Your lips quirked into a ghost of a smile. The first genuine one he'd ever seen in the entirety of your marriage. Looking down, you dropped the knife. 

"There. That's done." Your impassive mask fell back in place. Slowly you walked to the fire and looked at him before tossing his manhood into the flames. You both watched the remnants of his virility burn up in the small flame. "That was for Theon, I suppose." You whispered, more to yourself than him.

Turning back, you set your jaw and retrieved the knife. Wiping it clean on your skirt, you poised the tip against his jugular. "Don't worry, I'll not make you into a cuckhold, I intend to kill you." Glancing at him, you offered the small mollification before driving the blade into his neck until it came out the other side. He died without ceremony. Just a couple of spurts of blood and he'd gone limp. And for once you could study him objectively.  Bracing your weight against the wooden x, you slumped sensing the adrenaline spike you'd been riding on dropping. 

In a last twisted act of... affection? trauma bonding? perhaps a last act of humanity, regardless, you ran a hand through his thick hair and sighed. 

"Our child will be better, Ramsay. And I won't curse them with your surname." 

#ramsay bolton x reader #ramsay bolton #game of thrones fic #game of thrones #revenge #a song of ice and fire #ramsay snow #ramsay bolton imagine #Ramsay Bolton #Ramsay Bolton fan fic

[fallatyourfeet]

Conflicted - Part 2 of 2 (Ramsay Bolton x Reader)

Summary: Ramsay is conflicted by his feelings for the Reader.

Find part one in my masterlist. I used to link previous parts, but I've had so much trouble with posts and links that I gave up on the idea a long time ago.

Warnings: Usual Ramsay warnings, he's hardly a poster child of purity.

Word Count: 1177

A/N: This has been a long time coming. It's been requested quite a few times since Part 1 got posted, so I thought it was time to deliver. It's based off a request I got at the start of the year (but I haven't followed it completely). I've been in a writing slump the last couple of weeks, not because of a lack of inspiration, but rather a lack of time. So I'm hoping this doesn't feel too disjointed, being written in patches here and there, whenever I could steal the time.

I would love to know what you think, please feel free to send an ask, message or leave a comment, feedback is always appreciated

If you like this, please feel free to visit my blog and take a look around!

Ramsay followed the young lord down the dark passages of Winterfell, heading towards the long-forgotten places below the castle, places that had been rather useful since the Bolton’s were proclaimed the Wardens of the North. There were a lot of Bolton enemies that needed to be taken care of, and their screams were much harder to hear in the dark musty cells beneath the castle’s great stone walls. The young ward who had come to live with them a little over a year ago slotted right into their less than orthodox family. Becoming more of a sadistic apprentice, of sorts, rather than ward, to the now trueborn son of Roose Bolton, their similar and ungodly natures giving them much in common. But as Ramsay followed him further down the darkening passage, he grew uneasy, the stupid and fevered look lighting the young lord’s eyes ripped at his chest like claws, his thoughts lost on the very idea of what the stupid boy had gone and done. 

Peering over his shoulder, the boy smiled with anticipation, “I’ve got a little present for you, Lord Ramsay, I think you’ll be pleased.” Coming to a stop outside an old beaten-up door that led to probably the worst of the damp and decrepit rooms, he rested his hand on the latch, “I’ve seen the way you’ve been watching this one... no one saw me take her.” Ramsay felt his face stiffen, his upper lip curling and tensing as he took in the boy’s excited features, his gut already telling him what he would find on the other side.  

The door creaked loudly when the young lord slowly opened it, but Ramsay did not hear the sound. The only noise reaching him came from the distressed muffles of the beautiful peasant girl he had fought so hard to leave alone and untouched. Clenching his jaw tight, Ramsay held his breath, losing his grip on his usually impeccable self-control. Having always prided himself on his sadistic patience, especially when faced with his insatiable desire for cruel and torturous revenge, it was unsettling to feel himself losing grip. And for what? A worthless little peasant girl? She embodied everything he wanted to enjoy and destroy in the most ungodly ways. Why did this one matter? Why was she different from the rest? And why did the very thought of her being hurt make his jaw tense up and chest burn?  

A mere thread of self-control kept Ramsay from reacting to the distressed sounds on the other side of the opening door. A thread that soon snapped, burning all his sadistic patience to ash the moment he caught a glimpse of her restrained form thrashing around in panic, her futile attempt to free herself twisting his stomach into knots of pure torture. Bringing with it an overbearing thirst for the boy’s last breath. How dare he lay a single finger upon her... and oh, how quickly he would come to regret it. 

With his self-control lost beyond reach, Ramsay’s rage was the only instinct left. Grabbing the boy by his collar, he pushed him through the door, slamming it shut. Throwing him against the stone wall, the impact knocked all the air from the young lord’s chest. From the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the girl, (YN), her arms and legs fighting to free themselves, and when he turned his head towards her the look of absolute terror in her eyes consumed him. Because he knew that it was not only the boy that put it there... it was him, his presence in that dark and dingy room put it there too. And that knowledge ate at his insides in a very unpleasant way... feeling none of the joy he was accustomed to. Why? Why did she have this power over him... And what was he going to do about it?  

Turning back to the boy, he gripped him around the neck, squeezing until the flesh of his cheeks turned red and his eyes grew wide. Leaning down to his ear, Ramsay whispered, his voice low and menacing. “You’ve made a very stupid mistake, my young lord... You have completely misread my intentions.” Squeezing tighter and tighter, he watched the boy fight for air, but released his grip just enough to stop him from losing consciousness, wanting to say one last thing before sending him to sleep, “I’ll deal with you later... you will not enjoy it, but I’ll make sure that I do... sweet dreams.” One final squeeze sent the boy limp, his body sliding down the wall to the floor, a short reprieve before Ramsay sent him on his final journey into permanent darkness. A journey that would be long and filled with unimaginable pain. He would beg for mercy, beg for his life, before finally begging for death. But Ramsay would not grant his wish, would not bring death a moment sooner than necessary, he would die only when his body finally gave up. 

Turning his attention to (YN), he felt the air skip roughly through his lungs, her body was no longer thrashing about, but the monopolising fear in her features stung every nerve around his body. Moving towards her with his palms outstretched, Ramsay reached around to loosen the gag that was secured so roughly around her beautiful mouth, detesting the way her body recoiled from his close proximity. When the gag fell to the ground her distressed muffles were no longer contained, moving and bouncing around the damp stone walls as desperate cries and pleas, but he hushed her raising a finger to his lips.  

To her credit, she somehow managed to regain her composure, showing that same quiet defiance he first saw in the great hall of Winterfell... and it lit the edges of his heart. With a shaky breath she tried to hide her fear, bravely holding his piercing gaze and spoke. “...Lord Bolton, I... I don’t know what I’ve done... but... but you don’t have to hurt me... Just tell me what I did and I... I won't do it again.” 

Normally he would find such a request, pathetic and weak, he knew that... but he couldn’t ignore the way he wanted to soothe her, to take away her fear, keep her safe from the people that wanted to hurt her. To shield her from evil... from his evil.  

Crouching down beside her, he reached for her wrists, ignoring the way she flinched as he untied her restraints, “Hurt you?” Shaking his head, he took his dagger from his tunic and cut the tie around her ankles, “Sweet girl... much to my surprise, the thought of hurting you does not appeal to me.” Then lifting her to her feet, he ran a gentle thumb across her cheek, his skin tingling under the contact, both his eyes and voice far too intense to bring her any kind of reassurance. “No one is ever going to hurt you... I’m going to make sure of it... Never, will anyone [else] ever touch you again.”  

#ramsay bolton x reader #ramsay bolton imagine #ramsay bolton fanfiction #ramsay bolton fanfic #got x reader #ramsay bolton #ramsay snow #ramsay bolton x reader series

[screamverse-shawty]

🗣️����️🗣️RAMSAY EYES RAMSAY EYES AND DONT TELL ME I'M WRONG

#ramsay bolton #ramsay snow #did i lie #ramsay bolton imagine #game of thrones #thramsay

[ilikestuffthatsparkles]

Theon leaving

#asoiaf #theon greyjoy #asoiaf art #theon #asoiaf fanart #a song of ice and fire #ramsay's bitches #ramsay's dogs #winterfell #my art #i'm sorry i can't fix it more than this :/ Multiple details look wrong but yea too late #asoiaf what-if #theon frees/becomes the owner of Ramsay's dogs after the Boltons are defeated and they love him like a human could never do #all the stark kids + jon have a special bond with their direwolf pets now I want theon to have kyra on his side #i have a Theon and Jon and Kyra and Ghost fanart in mind already #i guess we can assume in this AU Ramsay was killed by Theon #imagine Ramsay orders the dog to attack theon and they go yea nope we ain't doing that #and they kill him like in the show or maybe it's theon shooting an arrow again #if that's even possible considering his fingers #but maybe theon wouldn't idk i can't understand new theon's personality after being reek #maybe he's the least vengeful person in the world maybe he's bloodthirsty af #i don't think he'd be happy if ramsay suffered his same way I think he's disgusted by torture at this point but i guess killing is ok? dunn #there's the cool AU where jon kills Ramsay while he's in ghost and that would be cool too but yea i'm a theon stan I want more theon scenes #ignoring the fact that if I stay awake for too long my brain goes into “Bolt-On is true” mode and I come up with deranged theories too LMAO #i think i said it somewhere but i wish a Asoiaf artists groupchat/discord would be amazing like guys I need to go on for hours about fanart #btw i'm making a youtube vid of this drawing which will also include my random mini art vlogs and pointless commentary of how i drew this #i should be studying for car license or my terrible grades or get some money somehow but nope i'm here typing a shit ton of tags #bye #i don't know human anatomy so IMAGINE DOG ONES PFF what are those four legged abominations i drew #tried using my doggo for reference but he's 23cm tall so yea maybe not the best reference for medieval hunting hounds

[tinfairies]

Sex ritual with Aemond, Petyr Bealish (must be desperate to agree to that, sort of out of character I know) , Aegon, Ramsay Bolton? Something like the magic ritual between Stannis and Melisandre. How would that play out?

TW: Blood play, knife play

Aemond is not one to shy away from something that will give him more power. If this witch promises him a way to tip the scales in his favor then he's willing to do anything. He's not stupid however, he will hold something they want over their head just to be sure they keeps their end of the deal.

The smell of blood, the fire and smoke and the way they curl around his body is utterly intoxicating. His cock fills them nicely, and the words they speaks, though foreign, are music to his ears. Even if their promise is null, he won't regret this night.

Petyr believes he is a self made man, he's come so far with barely a lick of help. However, desperate times call for desperate measures. This witch is talented, or so he's heard. The flames flicker violently around the two, as blood is drawn from their hand. The way the witch's body moves under Petyr has him bubbling with lust.

He gets a taste of their blood and suddenly things make sense, he can see his plan clearly. He's gripping onto them, fucking his cock into them desperately. He'll definitely be coming back for more.

Aegon doesn't crave power, or anything that the divine can give him. However, when a beautiful witch offers you something, you accept it. The witch had their legs wrapped around his waist, his cock twitched inside them. Aegon moaned as the flames lapped against his bloody skin, it didn't burn, it felt like kisses.

He doesn't know what this ritual will bring, but he likes it either way. If the witch ever asks him for his help again, he'll jump at the opportunity. They've earned themselves a new slave.

Ramsay doesn't really have a reason to gain power, he's done well on his own without magic. But the idea of blood and fire has his spine tingling. He's in for a treat when the witch ties his hands down and cuts symbols into his skin. Licking the blood and speaking in a foreign tongue.

He could get used to this, so long as the witch is willing to give up control every now and again. He is desperate to know what her blood tastes like.

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #hotd imagine #house of the dragon imagine #hotd headcanon #Game of thrones x reader #game of thrones headcanon #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones #got imagine #got x reader #got headcanons #Got #ramsay snow #ramsay bolton #ramsay bolton x reader #aegon targaryen ii #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #petyr baelish #petyr baelish x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #Smut #Reactions

[meraxesmoon]

Ramsay Bolton HCs

note: this was a request :)

warnings: yandere content, unhealthy relationships, extremely toxic bc its RAMSAY FKN BOLTON, mention of myranda, forced relationships, murder, abuse, mention of having children, but other than that the gender is not specified for the darling, babytrapping

┍━━━━━━━ ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗━━━━━━━┑

♡ First of all, he's evil as hell, and he'd be the worst yandere to be sacked with. Ramsay is infatuated with his darling, no doubt, but his love exists alongside pain. He grew up in that type of environment, so that's the only way he knows how to demonstrate how he feels to his 'lover'.

☆ Unless his darling was extremely fucked in the head, I genuinely do not think they'd be with him willingly. He's a monster, and he hardly tries to mask his true nature when he's around his darling. I think for him and Myranda, it was their background together, but literally no one else would go near this man, and for good reason.

♡ His darling, however, has no real choice. Once he decides that he wants them, he's going to have them.

☆ He's crazy about his darling, but that doesn't stop him from being overly aggressive towards them and the people that they love. In Ramsay's opinion, he should be the center of their universe. No one else should matter to them. When he realizes that's not the case? He goes apeshit.

♡ Ramsay is a possessive yandere, as well. He definitely has that type of mindset that makes him believe that his darling belongs to him. I can see Ramsay purposefully getting his darling pregnant if they're able to have children. If not, he uses extreme threats against their family to keep them at his side.

☆ What a crazy and unhinged bitch.

the name under the gif made me giggle

#cw: yandere blog #cw: yandere content #cw: yandere #yandere ramsay bolton #yandere got #yandere game of thrones #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere #kay writes #rhxegal

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Imagine...

Pairing: Dark Ramsay Bolton x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

WARNINGS: --

Please, reblog and give me feedback.

--

“Such a cold night, isn’t it?”

You ignore him, eyes tightly squeezed. The little warmth your garments provide threatens to escape and you wrap your arms around your legs, pushing them against your chest.

He’s right though. It’s a cold night.

Freezing, you’d say. It’s been a few hours since he locked you in a prison cell but it feels like a lifetime. The imposing cold wind slides from beneath your clothes, icing your body.

“They say a storm is coming. A nasty one.” he sings, voice overly cheerful.

Even with your eyes closed you can almost visualize the face of utter pleasure that must be on his face right now.

Taking satisfaction in your pain, seeing your crouched figure on the ground with limbs so cold that you can barely move them.

“If you apologize for what you did, I may consider letting you back into the castle.” He offers.

The temptation is devastating and you manage to peek from half-closed eyelids as his smirk widens, turning demoniac.

“If not, I’ll let you root in this cold dirty prison cell until you’ve learned your lesson.”

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #ramsay bolton x reader #dark game of thrones #dark got #ramsay bolton imagine #dark!ramsay bolton #dark ramsay bolton #yandere ramsay bolton #dark!ramsay bolton x reader #dark ramsay bolton x reader #tw: dark content #tw.dark content #yandere x reader #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagine #tw: yandere #gif imagine

[axelsagewrites]

Ramsay Bolton*My Father Would Kill Me

Pairing: Ramsay x F!Reader

Summary: The reader decides to try convince Ramsay to help her family in less honrouble ways.

Requested by @darkrose33

Warnings: Ramsay, swearing, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, fingering, humiliation, spanking, rough sex 18+

Word count: 3411

A/N: Ramsay is a terrible terrible person who did terrible terrible things that I do not condone...however Iwan Rheon made him so attractive in a strange way so you cannot blame me for writing smut for him

Masterlist Here

Ever since Ned Stark had died and Robb rode off into war the north had fallen into what you honestly thought was madness. The trade between Winterfell and the rest of the North had basically been cut off then randomly started again then slowed down then stopped then picked up again. Crime was all over the place since there was no Stark to fear.

Lords began to try snatch more power after Robb was murdered and the fights. Good gods the fights between houses and lords and ladies were endless. Petty fights turned into alliance breaking feuds. Up until recently your family had been relatively okay. until wilding attacks began more frequent in the surrounding villages. Before the Starks deaths they used to send men patrolling around the villages and outskirts for criminals and wildings, but the Boltons had no continued this. They didn’t care how the rest of the north was as long as they had Winterfell.

“We can’t continue like this,” you overheard your father tell your mother, “I must go to the Boltons and plead for their help,”

“What use is that? Roose hated you before he took the castle. You think he’ll help us now?”

But then the news came. Roose Bolton was dead. many said it was his bastard son had killed him and was the new Lord Bolton of Winterfell. Everyone knew before her death Catelyn Stark was terrified that a bastard would take Winterfell from Robb. How could she know that the bastard would turn out to be Ramsay Bolton?

Despite the news making your stomach churn it gave your family a brief glimmer of hope. The enemy of my enemy is my friend after all. Your father insisted this was your only hope and bundled you into your finest furs to go to Winterfell alongside him.

Now you were sat in Winterfell with your father waiting for its new lord to come and speak to you. It was hard not to grow nervous the longer you were forced to wait for Ramsay’s arrival. You had met him once years ago as a child. He had picked you a daffodil from the gardens to give to you, he must have been no older than seven. You had found it sweet at seven but when the other children noticed they teased him for presenting a lady with a weed. Ramsay pushed over the boy who had started the teasing however unfortunately for him that had been ten-year-old Theon Greyjoy who tattled on him, and Ramsay was dragged away by his father.

However, the Ramsey that entered the courtyard where you waited with your father looked far different from before. He no longer had noodle arms and knobbly knees. He walked with confidence oozing off him and a strange look on his face you could not quite place. His hair was no longer an overgrown bird nest on his head but a curly mop of locks that fit his face. If it weren’t for the rumours, you had heard about him on first glance you would have assumed he was a respectable lord of a noble house.

When Ramsay approached you noticed almost a twinkle in his eye. He ignored your fathers outstretched hand to take your hand into his. His hands were rough, but you noticed how soft his lips were when he placed a kiss to the back of your hand, “My lady,” he greeted, “How lovely it is to see you again,”

You tried not to blush as you bowed your head and gave a slight curtsey, “As it is to see you Ramsay- “your father shot you a shocked look at your slip up, “I mean my lord,” you tried to correct but Ramsay just chuckled at your embarrassment.

“Its all right My Lady. Old habits are hard to break,” his eyes lingered on you before going to your father. “How may I be of assistance my lord?”

Your father tried to explain the situation as best he could, but you could see Ramsay bore as each word carelessly fell from your father’s mouth in a half-jumbled mess. “As you can imagine lord Bolton it can be quite the struggle. It means so much to my family-to my daughter,” he said as he grabbed your arm desperately trying to keep his interest, “If you could spare even a few men- “

“I’ll have to take some time to consider it,” Ramsay cut your father off with a fake smile that made your stomach churn, “In the meantime you’re free to roam around Winterfell. I’ll tell them to set each of you up a chamber,” Your father’s disappointment was written across his face. He hadn’t expected this whole thing to last more than a couple of hours, but Ramsay clearly enjoyed having the upper hand, “If you’ll excuse me my lord, my lady,” Ramsay bowed his head, eyes focused on you before walking away with his hands clasped behind his back.

“When Ned Stark was in charge,” your father whispered in your ear, but you gave a sharp elbow to his side, “What?” he spat.

“Give him a chance,” you shot back in a whisper, nodding your head to where the guards stood obviously trying to listen into your conversation. “Lets just wait and see,”

Once you were in a private chamber your father began his long and incessant vent. While you could understand the frustration you also just wanted him to shut up. “I have half a mind to march up to him and- “

“Let’s not be hasty,” you cut him off, practically pushing him into a chair, “Why don’t I go enquire about food and we can figure out what to do after supper? We’re clearly not going home till tomorrow anyway,” he grumbled but finally agreed.

After you had requested for the kitchen to send your father some food, hoping a full belly would calm his temper, you suddenly found yourself walking to Ramsay’s chambers where the maids told you he’d be. You knew if you left it for your father to do it would not go so well. You paused in front of the door, unsure of what to say when you went in or if he would even let you speak. It was so out of the norm for you to be in a lord’s room especially alone. Perhaps this was a mistake.

Then the door swung open. A maid with a full basket of washing stood in front of you with a shocked expression. “What is it?” you heard Ramsay call from inside.

“You have a visitor milord,” she said, her eyes darting away from you. “The lady (Y/N),”

“Send her in,” Ramsay said but you could hear the smirk in his voice.

The lady gave you a sad smile before hurrying past you. you took a deep breath before entering the room, closing the door partially behind you, “My lord,” you greeted with a curtsey.

Ramsay was stood in his trousers and undershirt, and you blushed at the sight. Without the tunic and cloak, you could see he was far more muscular than you had expected. “What happened to Ramsay?” he enquired with a raised eyebrow as he crossed the room to where you stood by the door.

He was less than a foot away from you now and you could smell the sweet musky scent off him, “It would be improper my lord,” a smirk crept on his face.

Ramsay leaned in closer, one hand moving to shut the door behind you. his ears were by your lips, and you could feel his breathing on your skin, “More improper than visiting my chambers unattended?” he said before pulling back to where he stood before.

You blushed under his gaze, “My lord I came to- “

“Ramsay,” he corrected.

“Ramsay,” you smiled, the blush now spreading to your ears, “I came to plead for you to- “Ramsay sighed as he stepped back and walked to a table that held a jug of wine and two goblets. He poured two as you repeated practically the same speal your father had. He held one out to you and you took it without instruction to which he smiled at, “So it would mean so much to me if- “

“What do I get out of this arrangement?” he asked cutting you off. You were stunned for a second as you began to stammer for a response, “I’m a reasonable person my lady. I like to think at least. Its not crazy of me to expect to be compensated for my losses,”

“Of course, my lord,” you said, “It’s just that- “

“That your father has nothing to offer?” he asked, and you nodded sheepishly, “Perhaps then we should consider other options. Perhaps you have something to offer for instance,”

“My lord im afraid I have no more than my father,”

Ramsay laughed as he finished his wine, “I promise you my lady you are very,” Ramsay began to close the gap between you, now towering over you, his eyes gazing down into yours, “very mistaken,”

A flush spread across your cheeks at the look in his eyes and your gaze fell to the floor to avoid it, “I don’t understand what you mean my lord,”

Ramsay’s fingers went to your chin which he gently pulled up to force you to meet his eyes again, “I think you do though,” he said, his voice low, “I think you wouldn’t have come to my chambers if the thought hadn’t crossed your mind,”

You swallowed and stuttered under his gaze. While you had found him incredibly handsome you were a lady. To sleep with someone before you were wed could be catastrophic, “I cannot jeopardize my virtue,”

“Who would have to know?” his head dropped so that his lips were beside your ear again.

You shivered as his hot breath kissed your skin, “Its wrong,” you stuttered, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Can it be wrong if it feels so good?” he whispered before placing a kiss behind your ear.

You gasped slightly at the gesture and felt his smirk against your skin, “My father would kill me,”

Ramsay pulled back from your neck and took your face into one of his hands, his thumb stroking across your cheek bone, “As if I would let him to such a thing to such a pretty little thing,” it was hard not to lean into his touch.

“I’ve heard of the things that you do,” you stuttered, and it only caused his smirk to grow.

“A good girl doesn’t listen to the hens clucking,” he tutted, “All I have ever done to you has been kind,”

The memory of the daffodil brought a sad smile to your face, “Ramsay I- “

“If you can look me in my eyes and tell me you don’t want this, I’ll let you leave,” he said as his hand fell from your face.

His eyes never left yours however and you squirmed under his gaze, “I- “

“I’ll know if you lie,” he added as he stepped closer to you leaving no space between your bodies. His hands went to rest on your hips, “Tell me sweet girl,” he leaned closer, so his forehead was pressed onto yours, his lips an inch from your own. The words were caught in your throat as you tried to answer. “No one has to know,” he whispered, his lips ghosting over yours.

Without thinking your hands crashed onto his however while you intended a quick kiss Ramsay’s hand quickly went behind your back, pulling you closer to him and deepening the kiss. They felt like velvet against yours and you felt yourself get lost in the kiss. You had forgot about the goblet of wine you held until it fell to the floor with a clatter, the wine splashing on his fur rug. “Ramsay im so sorry,” you stammered as the kiss broke when you noticed the stain seeping into the carpet.

“Its okay,” he said taking your jaw in his hand and forcing you to face him. “You can make it up to me,” his lips dived back in for another kiss but this time his lips were far more desperate. He bit down on your bottom lip causing you to gasp into the kiss. You felt him smirk before he slid his tongue in. you moaned into the kiss at the feeling of his tongue mixing with yours.

You had kissed a couple lords before but none like this. No ones hold felt as strong as Ramsay as he pulled you as close as possible to his body. Your hands rested on his chest which felt so strong under your fingertips. Your hands crept up to his wide and muscular shoulders that were barely covered by the thin undershirt. Ramsay’s hand slid from your back to your arse that he dug his fingers in over your dress. You gasped when he suddenly spanked it and Ramsay just chuckled in response. With his hand lower down and pulling you in you could now feel his hard member pressing against you.

Without much warning Ramsay broke the kiss to harshly turn you around as he hastily began to unlace your dress. It came off quickly along with your shift. The air felt cold against your skin despite the fireplace in the corner and you flushed under his hungry eyes, “Much better than any of my dreams,” he grinned from behind you, his hands going to hold your breasts as he pressed himself to your back.

You gasped when he began to squeeze your breasts, his lips falling to press hard kisses along your neck. You felt his hard on pressing and grinding into your ass as his hands massaged and squeezed your chest. His kisses turned into sucking hickeys into your skin. “We shouldn’t,” you said but it came out as moans.

Ramsay chuckled as he let go of you before turning you to face him, “Then why are you moaning at my touch darling?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. His hand trailed down your body and your breath caught in your throat as his finger ran across your folds, “You’re so wet,” he chuckled causing your skin to turn hot, “And you’re blushing,” he laughed, “You really are desperate, aren’t you?”

His lips captured yours again this time your hands holding onto his arms to steady yourself as his finger teased you, running up and down your fold but never going in. you whined into the kiss as his finger ghosted your clit. “Please,” you whined against his lips at how tortuously gentle he was going.

 Ramsay let out a dark chuckle as two of his fingers quickly dove inside of you. the burn of him filling you up made you gasp but Ramsay didn’t stop as his fingers began to massage inside if you, “Is this what you want darling?” his other hand grabbed your jaw as he forced you to look into his eyes. “You want me to fuck you with my fingers?” The way he began to curl his fingers made you moan but you didn’t answer, “Answer me,” Ramsay gripped your jaw tighter.

“Yes, my lord,” you said.

“Im beginning to like the sound of that,” Ramsay smirked as he repositioned his hand, so his thumb was now rubbing your clit. Your fingers dug into his strong biceps as you tried to steady yourself as your legs began to feel less stable and a knot was growing in your stomach. He clashed his lips back onto yours in a messy desperate kiss. His spare hand went to your ass. He placed a hard spank on your ass before rubbing his hand over the read mark. He enjoyed your gasps and moans each time he spanked it and praised the growing red mark.

Suddenly Ramsay pulled his fingers out of you causing you to whine as the growing knot suddenly disappeared. Ramsay spanked your ass at your protest before shoving his fingers that were wet with your juices into your mouth. “Suck,” he commands, and you greedily complied. Ramsay moaned at the sight of your soft lips around his fingers, “I’m going to ruin you,” he said before he pulled his fingers back.

Without warning Ramsay almost threw you onto the bed that was thankfully soft. He didn’t waste time in crawling over your body, leaving dark hickeys across your skin as he did. You moaned at the feeling of his lips sucking your skin, your fingers in his hair pulling it gently. “You look good enough to eat,” Ramsay said, and you shivered at the suggestion. His mouth wrapped around your nipple which he began to suck on the hard bud. His hand went down to your soaking cunt, rubbing sloppy circles on your clit. This plus the way his teeth grazed your nipple caused a series of moans to fall from your lips.

Ramsay let go of your nipple before he quickly flipped you onto your front. As you lay on the bed, face in the pillow, you heard Ramsay shuffling behind you and soon he was back behind you, lifting your hips up to be against his now naked length. Ramsey began to tease his cock up and down your slit causing you to whine. “I suggest you hold onto something darling,” Ramsay said as he lined his tip up with your hole before pushing into you. you gasped as it filled you up far more than his fingers had. Your hands curled into the sheets beneath them, your knuckles turning white at how strong your grip was, “I’m not very good at being gentle,”

And with that Ramsay began his thrusts. They were deep and precise as he filled you up completely causing a mix of gasps, moans, and curses to fall from your lips. You could hear his own grunts and moans as he thrust into you. his fingers dug into the flesh of your hips which you figured would leave deep marks by the time you were done. Ramsay sped up his past, his thrusts slightly sloppier but still just as deep.

“God your amazing,” Ramsay grunted as his thrusts grew quicker. “You take me so fucking well,” he said as one of his hands moved to rub circles on your clit. Your moans only grew and to try hide muffle them your face buried into the soft pillow. Ramsay’s hand shot to grab your hair, pulling your head up and out of the pillow as he pounded into you harder, “I want to hear you,” he grunted as he relentlessly pounded into you causing loud moans to tear through your throat, “That’s it,” he said, “Moan my name,”

“Ramsay,” you moaned, your voice shaky from the pleasure building within you. Ramsay’s hand dropped your head but this time you did not try concealing the moans he caused. He slapped your ass yet again before grabbing your hips tightly. His fingers sped up their circles and your moans grew louder, “Fuck. Please Ramsay. Please don’t stop,” you begged.

“That’s right,” he said, his thrusts becoming sloppier, “Who’s making you feel this way?”

“You are,” the knot from before was back and the pressure built even quicker than before, “I think im gonna- “you tried to warn as you felt your walls start to clench around him. Ramsay had moved your hips slightly causing him to hit a new spot that sent the pressure over the edge. You were practically shaking around him as the organs ripped through your body causing your lips to almost give out.

Ramseys arm went under your hips to hold you up. His thrusts were even faster as you rode out your orgasm but the way you had began to clench around him made his own come even quicker. “Fuck!” Ramsay groaned when he suddenly spilled inside of you. his grip on you was tighter as his orgasm took his breath away.

You crashed onto the bed when Ramsay’s arm fell away from you. he soon fell beside you on the bed sweaty and naked and panting. You forced yourself to roll over and stared up at the ceiling as you realised what you had done, “My father’s gonna kill me,”

Ramsay rolled over to place a kiss to your lips, “You’re far too valuable now to let him do that love,”

Taglist: @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy

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[ridhistory21]

sorry but Iwan Rheon was too fine to be casted as Ramsay 😳😩

and I am not complaining bc he absolutely nailed it💯

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[dragons-and-handcuffs]

Imagine...

Ramsay Bolton with Tyrell!reader. Everyone thinks you are a flower but instead you are the manipulative snake that hides among the flowers. You were sent to North to marry Ramsay and you immediately trapped him by your charm. You intentionally wore a dress with a deep neck cut the first time you met him, his eyes immediately went on your cleavage. You assured him that it doesn't matter to you that he was born a bastard, kissing him and letting him put his hands on your body. You getting undress for a warm bath while Ramsay was speaking a peek from the crack of the door, thinking what he can do to you. You knew Ramsay was not a kind man, in fact he was sadistic but you were certain you can control him.

He gave you a tour of winterfell, sharing one horse so that he can keep you close. At last he showed you his dungeon where the Bolton cross was and some tools for torture. He wanted to see your reaction. Only one thing came to mind when you saw the cross and Ramsay understood it when you pulled him for a hot steamy kiss. On your wedding night he tied you to the cross and cut open your wedding dress. Touching you all over with his rough hands, teasing with with his knife. He love to see you in his control. That night he tied you up in various positions, using you any way he wants, making you beg. He loves being rough with you, his wife, his toy. You love it as well. You encourage him.

If he is in the dungeon torturing someone you go to him. You just think torturer Ramsay is hot. Hugging him from behind, kissing his back and neck as he torture the poor prisoner. If there are blood splatters on him you kiss it away. He would just bend you over right there and fuck you in front of the prisoner. You just know how to keep Ramsay happy.

You are excellent in manipulating him. Convincing him to do something while you are riding him. Encouraging him to put more fear in people. But you truly love him and he loves you. If anyone says anything bad about you they would be dragged to the dungeon and tortured. He became more protective once you got pregnant, but it won't stop him from tying you up and using you and you don't want him to stop either

#hotd #game of thrones #game of thrones imagines #hotd fanfic #hotd headcanon #hotd imagine #hotd imagines #hotd one shot #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #game of thrones headcanons #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones fanfiction #got imagine #got one shot #got fanfiction #ramsey bolton imagine #ramsay bolton imagine #ramsey bolton #ramsay bolton #ramsey Bolton x reader #ramsay bolton x reader #ramsay Bolton x tyrell!reader

[francis-writes]

Could you do a modern NSFW oneshot for Ramsey x reader where the reader and Ramsey are having an Argument in a car which somehow leads to Ramsey pulling over somewhere and the two of them end up having hate sex in the car?

A/N: i will someday finish it... perhaps.

Also sorry that i am not so active recently. I spend almost whole days on the university and I also joined local anarchist collective. Anyway. There's a lot going on.

"Don't be such a bitch"

"A bitch? I just wanted to know who's the girl that you spent the whole evening with. That makes me a bitch?"

"Can't I even talk with someone without your permission?" Ramsay raised his voice, visibly irritated. You were coming back from a party in friend's house. After you went to the kitchen, you couldn't see your boyfriend until you found him sitting on a couch with a stranger girl. It wouldn't be such a problem but they seemed to be unsettlingly close. You tried to find out something after the party but Ramsay wasn't eager to satisfy your curiosity.

"You can but that girl was definitely flirting with you. And you looked as if you wanted to get into her pants as well"

"Maybe I wanted to" he snorted "But I didn't. I don't fuck anyone behind your back so stop being so suspecting"

Sure, for now Ramsay didn't give you any reasons to worry. You didn't have any proofs for his infidelity, even though he was a hedonist and you knew that before meeting you, he had many lovers. Still... this  evening left you in a bad mood and you couldn't forget it.

"If you cheated on me, why would you tell me about that?" You shrugged. To be honest, you didn't want to argue but something was pushing you to defend your earlier anger.

Ramsay growled something under his breath and made a quick move with steering wheel. Fortunately, the road was empty at this hour but driving with Ramsay was usually an exciting experience - the same way rollercoaster is exciting when your heart stops for a moment and you wonder if you're gonna survive this.

"What are you doing?!"

Ramsay stopped the car on the roadside.

"We need to talk, but if you kept screaming at me while I was driving, there would be an accident"

"I wasn't screaming" you said a bit quieter than before, feeling some remorse for your (perhaps) unjustified anger.

Ramsay grabbed  your shirt and pulled you closer, so you could feel his warm breath on your face.

"You were. For no goddamn reason. I am starting to regret that I didn't fuck this girl, at least you would have a reason to make a scene"

Without a second thought, you slapped him. He looked at you with anger, maybe surprise in his eyes, and he grabbed your throat, squeezing it slightly so you barely could breathe.

You felt a mix of emotions, anger and fear were battling in you for domination. But there was also... excitement? You felt familiar wetness between your legs. Oh, as usual you couldn't decide whether you would rather kill Ramsay or fuck him.

"Maybe..." you tried to form a sentence despite lacking air "we should...move...to the back seats"

Ramsay raised his eyebrow and smirked. He let go of your throat so you could take a deep breath with relief.

"For what?"

"It would be easier to... discuss there"

He nodded, still with a sarcastic grin on his face, and moved to the back seats.

You just closed the door when Ramsay pulled you to himself and started kissing you, sneaking his hand under your shirt. His warm, calloused fingers wandered across your skin. The experience was pleasant and you usually relaxed under his touch but this time, something didn't let you focus on the moment. You pushed him away.

"So we're just gonna fuck now? As if nothing happened?"

He didn't say anything, just kissed you forcefully, holding your head so you couldn't move away. You bit his lip with all your strenght until he pulled off and touched his lip, just to see blood on his fingers.

"You stupid whore..." he mumbled and pushed you on your back. You tried to get up but he pinned you to the seat and with one free hand he tried to unbutton your shirt, but most buttons just fell off when he yanked the material. He leaned over and bit your breast. Pain pierced your body and you wanted to scream but he covered your mouth with his palm.

"Shhh..." he silenced you "You don't want somebody to catch us?"

Instead of responding, you bit his hand and used all your strength to got up while he still was surprised. You grabbed his tshirt and tried to pulled it over his head. Despite his irritation, Ramsay helped you (perhaps he wanted to see more than just dark material on his face).

You sat astride on his lap and began to kiss his chest and suck on his neck. You were still angry at him but the desire turned out to be stronger. You still could see the fire in his eyes, but for now Ramsay stayed unmoved, focusing on the pleasure.

His hands went under your skirt, squeezing your thigs, digging nails into your skin. You moaned between the kisses as he was marking you with bruises. You could feel bulge in his pants so you started moving your hips and rubbing against him. Ramsay gasped. You were together long enough for you to know how to stimulate him, get him on the edge and drive him crazy.

He raised his hips a bit and pulled down his trousers. His dick sprung out, already hard.

You  took off your panties and wanted to slide on him but it didn't want to get in.

"Fuck" you swore under your breath and you wanted to put it in forcefully but Ramsay stopped you. He started fingering you, massaging your clit with his thumb.

"Tight as a virgin. But don't worry, we'll get you wet"

"I am no virgin" you replied angrily. He smirked.

"I know, you're more visited attraction than Statue of Liberty"

"Oh, fuck you"

"Fuck me yourself, coward"

He took off his fingers and pushed his cock inside you. You didn't manage to find a fitting remark as you were adjusting to his girth. You slowly moved up and down and started riding him.

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