#ramsay snow x reader

[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~

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“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

[a-libra-writes]

Hi!!! Omg I just wanted to say I’m so happy you’re back because I love your writing so so much, your characterizations are the absolute best.

Do you think you could write some long-ish headcanons about ASOIAF characters and how they would react if they had a nightmare about the reader dying or leaving them, but woke up to you cuddling them?

Thank you!!

Heyo! Thank you for the kind words , im glad youre enjoying your stay at my silly blog lol. I did ur boys Ramsay and Theon, plus a few extras that popped into my head!

Theon - He awakes with a start, and an immediate feeling of discomfort settles upon his chest. Theon can feel you right next to him, but you seem far away. He can't get back to sleep. Dreams (nightmares, really) of you dying affects him strongly, but somehow you just ... leaving, not disappearing, but walking away from him hurts more.

In the morning, he's rather quiet and distant. Of course, he's shit at talking about his feelings. You'd have to ask direct or roundabout questions to figure it out, and even then, Theon feels foolish for being so disturbed by something as silly as a dream. It wouldn't matter if this was reoccurring, it'd still be like pulling teeth to get him to talk about it and explain why it's so unsettling.

Ramsay - Dreaming of your death isn't actually anything new for him. He wouldn't even consider them nightmares, and it's not like you're the only one who dies. Sometimes it's by his own hand, sometimes it's not. Ramsay doesn't dwell on them after he wakes, and rarely remembers after an hour or so. The dying dreams don't bother him because they seem so far-fetched - yes, he really thinks that.

Dreams of you running off, however? That's a different matter. Sometimes they're simple - he can't find you, no matter how much he looks. Sometimes it's more complex, you run away and he has to spend a long, fruitless effort trying to find you. These are the dreams that agitate him when he awakens, and he'll actually wake you up to make sure you're there - obviously you are - and if for some reason you aren't, well ... he's always had a habit of being mad at you for slights he's conjured up in his head.

Tywin - He has never been a man who tried to glean any meaning from dreams; it's nonsense he doesn't subscribe to. That doesn't mean he's immune to nightmares, though most people wouldn't think such a grand man would be affected by them. He is, but no one would see that. It's the dreams where you're dying - often in childbirth, sometimes by sickness - that startle him awake.

It's troublesome if you actually are with child; then Tywin might take some time to get back to sleep. If you aren't, he knows logically that he shouldn't be bothered. There's no danger here. It puts him in something of a mood for the rest of the day. He doesn't so much as fret over you as just ... watch you very closely, which might pique your curiosity.

Jon - These nightmares don't come often to him, but when they do, he wakes in a sweat. You always seem to die right as he wakes up, or he's on his way to help you and something stops him. Something always stops him, and he wakes feeling anxious and oddly powerless. It feels like an ill omen. He turns over to you and pulls you in closer, mulling it over instead of trying to get back to bed.

It takes a while for him to fall asleep. Jon might talk to you about it, but he also feels a little silly for being so affected. Maybe if you bring up the topic first, because he clearly looks tired.

Tyrion - He hates these kinds of dreams, both the ones where some harm has fallen you, or where you've suddenly disappeared and left him. They're both terrible for different reasons, and he wakes with a start, cursing and looking for something to drink. It'll wake you up, and he immediately switches to comforting, as if you're the one whose upset.

He really appreciates if you stop and ask him what he dreamt. In the daytime it feels childish to talk about, but in the dark with your hand holding his, he feels comfortable to express the worry and anxieties that may have led to the nightmare in the first place.

Victarion - The nightmare is one he's had before, only it's taken new forms since he's been with you. Rather than his wife dying at his own hands, it's you. A simple change, and one that hurts him even more, because it feels even more real. He wakes up with his whole body tense and his fists balled. It's entirely possible you wake up too, as Victarion wants to get out of bed and pace around.

If you want to talk to him about it, good luck. Talking about emotions, especially this, is not in the slightest realm of easy for him. He probably hasn't even told you what happened to his previous wife; Asha would have been the one who did. Sometimes he can be coaxed back into bed, sometimes he wants to stalk off and walk around the keep for a while.

Stannis - It always comes back to that day. In the nightmare, he can still smell the seasalt, and feel the wind on his face, and hear the wood breaking against rocks. In the dreams, he always knows whose on the ship. He may not see the bodies sinking in the water, but he knows. And if it's you, then he's alone on top of Storm's End. No Robert or Renly, just himself, trying to shout against the wind and rain.

It's worse than the nightmares about the Siege, which feel listless and endless. Stannis usually awakes an hour or two before he normally gets up, and that's fine. He gets out of bed right away and goes about his usual routine, wanting to shake the negative feelings right away. If he ever talks about it with you, it's only after you point out he seems tired. He wants to tell you it's pointless to dwell on it, but talking does help a little ...

Arianne - She wakes up with a curse, which might make you stir. She doesn't put a lot of stock in dreams and nightmares, but she doesn't completely discount them, either. And that one was ... very vivid. Just thinking about it your life slipping away makes her shiver, no matter if it was poison or a sword.

She'll slowly wake you up, bringing you close to her and resting her face against your neck. She only half-apologizes for it. After telling you about the dream, she promises it won't happen. She'll keep you safe - though maybe she's reassuring herself more than you.

#theon greyjoy x reader #tywin lannister x reader #ramsay snow x reader #jon snow x reader #tyrion lannister x reader #victarion greyjoy x reader #stannis baratheon x reader #arianne martell x reader #got x reader #game of thrones x reader

[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

[fallatyourfeet]

Conflicted (Ramsay Bolton x Reader) Masterlist - 2 Parts

GIF by marked-by-destiny

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

Warnings: Usual Ramsay warnings, he has terrible and evil thoughts about the reader (Violence, sexual assault etc)

I would love to know what you think, please feel free to send a 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!

Part 1 | Part 2

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

[hazywrites]

As My Witness (Ch. 5)

Good Girls and Going to the Dogs

Summary: You’re crazy, toxic, and above all, dramatic. So what else can you do when your long-term boyfriend cheats on you but run away across state lines in the middle of the night? A chance encounter with a certain bastard might be everything you need to escape your old life- or it might be your worst nightmare. You’re running with the big dogs now. Hope you can handle it.

Warnings: This is an explicit fic! Please do not read if you aren’t prepared for mature content.

Words: 11414

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22813183

Dedication: So, this is my first published fic! I have so many wonderful influences to thank for that, seriously y'all are all sorts of talented and amazing. But this particular fic I would like to dedicate to my darling @neoncrowpen​, who gave me the confidence to put my work out there back when I was just a shy lil anon who needed the advice from one of my most admired authors. Thank you for your faith, I hope I can do it some justice <3

Chapter 4

Domeric’s car was sleek, black, and shiny like Ramsay’s, but it looked more classic than sporty, with rounded fenders and a detailed grill clearly meant to mimic an older style. Regardless, you soon found out it could drive just as fast as Ramsay’s, as the Bolton brothers seemed to have a shared affinity for speeding. Your heart thrummed and the scent of Domeric’s cologne mixed with the leathery interior gave you a headache. Your mind was spinning a million miles a minute at the implication that Robb was even remotely aware of this strange, foreign world, let alone a member of one of its great houses. You knew the only way to find out more was to ask, but you felt too nauseous to open your mouth.

Domeric looked calm in comparison to how you felt. Where Ramsay would have seemed angry and tense, his brother was contemplative. You shyly looked over his handsome side profile, and when he caught your gaze he offered you a small smile.

“Apologies,” he offered, “for scaring you earlier.”

“You didn’t scare me,” you said, tucking your knees to your chest. No one said anything for another minute, until you finally asked, “What was Miranda for?”

“Hm?”

“You said to get Miranda up there. Does she have some sort of ability…?”

“Oh,” Domeric laughed, his eyes still trained on the road ahead of him. “My brother and I thought it would be a good idea to keep our little discovery a secret. She’s going to go up there and pretend to be the girl we found. Throw the Starks off our scent, so to speak. She’s quite a good actress,” he mused. “We hadn’t given them too much information, anyway, so it shouldn’t be too hard to convince them that Ramsay needed to question her for a crime, or that some crazed fan showed up wanting attention. Whatever excuse he comes up with, it’s in his hands now.” “But you were going to have the Starks question me,” you pressed, confused. “What changed?”

“That you know him,” Domeric answered simply. “You don’t know anything about our world. Even people who have heard of the dragonmarked houses don’t know a lot about the inner politics. Your ex-boyfriend obviously kept secrets from you, but the Starks are ridiculously territorial. If they found out about your abilities, they’d insist you were theirs and take you back.” You shuddered at the thought.

You remembered Robb’s family. His father was always away on business, but his mom, Cat, was always sweet to you, and his siblings seemed so nice and… normal. You had felt normal when you were with him. The fence you had envied him suddenly flashed in your mind, and you realized a different sort of fence would be awaiting you if you were forced to go back with him.

“Thanks for saving me, then,” you mumbled. It was genuine, but Domeric quirked an eyebrow.

“You know, most people wouldn’t thank their kidnappers.”

“You didn’t kidnap me. Ramsay did. And I ran away from Robb for a reason. I don’t want anything to do with him or his family.” Your arms were crossed and your lips settled into a pout as you said it. You felt Domeric’s gaze on you for a moment longer before he finally spoke.

“Let’s hope you feel differently about us, then.”

Domeric drove you back to the safe house, where you hung back at the doorway as he made himself at home. You were wondering who to talk to, what to do next. You’d always been pretty social, and even if Ramsay was a dick, Domeric and Ben were friendly. You settled on going to the kitchen and filling a kettle with water for tea. As it brewed, you leaned on the counter and daydreamed about what would happen next. Maybe Ramsay would kill Robb. You knew he didn’t actually deserve it, but a small part in the back of your mind told you still…

You readied three mugs of tea, carrying one out to the living room where Domeric sat, ankle across his knee, foot bouncing impatiently, one arm across the back of the seat and the fingers of his other hand pressed to his lips as he stared at his phone on the coffee table. When you set the tea down, he looked up, surprised.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said gratefully. You gingerly leaned on one of the other seat’s armrests. “You’re being very gracious about all this. I appreciate it.” You smiled at him.

“Well, it’s not like my life in New York was that exciting,” you conceded.

“Is that what you want?” He asked, an eyebrow quirking as he took another sip of tea. “Excitement?” You thought for a minute.

“Maybe not if I were you,” you confessed. “But I don’t have any stakes in all this. There’s no pressure on me to make my daddy proud or to be a steward of a dragonmarked house. I just get to follow you guys around and eat pancakes and touch your weird tattoos. It’s kind of fun.” Domeric chuckled into his mug a little, making steam rise up, mist covering his face.

“It’s good tea.”

“You’re British?” You asked.

“Kind of. Our family is originally from here, but Father insisted we go to private school across the pond,” he said the last words with a funny lilt that made you giggle.

“You seem calmer than Ramsay, and even your dad. He’s calm, too, but like in an intense kind of way,” you observed. Domeric shrugged.

“I just got back into all this. I took a couple of years off. I wanted to travel the world, study a little more. Father understood. Ramsay’s entire life has been this, though. He wants to inherit the company more than anything. To be the new heir of Bolton. He feels threatened by me, I think. Because Father prefers my mild temper and because I’m older. But I truthfully couldn’t be arsed about any of it. Sometimes I think my brother will slit my throat in my sleep.” He grimaced at the last words and you thought about them for a minute.

“Well, have you told him that?”

“Ah, of course. But Ramsay is suspicious by nature. It’s a wonder my father doesn’t like him more, for all that he resembles him.” You hummed in response.

“How come you came back, then?” You asked curiously.

“I felt a sense of duty, a little bit. Responsibility. Or maybe I’m being self-aggrandizing and I just got bored.”

“That, I understand,” you said. You sat in silence for a minute longer when Ben entered the living room. You hopped up and brought him his own mug, which had cooled enough to hold without burning your fingertips. He smiled at you and sat across from Domeric on the other long sofa, pulling one knee up and leaning an arm on it.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he said and you lifted your mug to him. You each raised your mugs in the air and took a sip before you spoke again.

“How did you meet the Boltons, Ben?” You asked.

“Weirdly enough, I trained Ramsay’s dogs,” he said. You raised an eyebrow.

“Ramsay is a dog person?”

“Oh, yeah! He loves them. He has a Cane Corso—“

“Princess Lilah?” Domeric chimed in. Ben nodded.

“A Blue Bay Shepherd, that’s—“

“Duchess!” Domeric cried. Ben smiled.

“Yes! A Pomeranian called Jack Daniels, a mini Aussie named Maverick, a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel called Apollo Creed and a Blue Nose Pitbull called Teacup.” You were doubling over in laughter as Ben finished, and Domeric smirked alongside you. Ben looked utterly confused. “What’s so funny?”

“Why—“ you managed through fits of giggles, “why did he name his dogs like that?”

“Oh! Because he thinks it’s funny that his tiny dogs have menacing names and his big dogs have delicate names,” he explained as if it were obvious. There were tears in your eyes at this point, and Ben began laughing alongside you. He finally gave in and began flipping through videos on his phone.

There were videos of Maverick at the park running a few feet, then staring back at the camera with a dopey smile on her face every five seconds, Ramsay firmly yelling for Princess Lilah to sit only for her to jump on him and give him kisses, effectively knocking him on his ass, Apollo Creed being too lazy for a walk and being literally dragged on her leash, Jack Daniels shredding an entire roll of toilet paper on the bed and spinning in circles barking angrily when they laughed at her, Teacup sitting with her butt directly on Roose as he looked less than amused, and Duchess howling at the treats cabinet like she was singing an opera. By the time you watched them all, even Domeric cracked at your reactions and you were all falling off the couches laughing. That’s how Ramsay found you— cracking up with tears in your eyes on the floor of the safe house living room. He was too shocked to even speak as he stood above you all, staring especially at Ben and Domeric. You vaguely noticed a little black book tucked in his crossed arms.

“Would anyone care to fill me in?” He finally asked. You looked at him, clutching your stomach as you willed your abs to stop contracting so you could have a break.

“Rams… Ramsay you,” you breathed out through giggles. “You have to let me meet your dogs.” He raised an eyebrow at Ben, who was curled in the fetal position laughing. He finally cracked a smirk as he sat down at the seat across from you, crossing an ankle over his knee, twirling the little notebook in his hands as he waited for you all to settle down.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, sweetheart,” he said. Your head was tossed back on the seat behind you, your disheveled hair in front of your face, the column of your neck exposed, and droplets of sweat decorating your collarbones, but you peaked down at him. You weren’t expecting that. You’d thought maybe he would yell at you, or scoff his disapproval.

“Really?” You asked.

“Mm,” he hummed in agreement. “In fact, we can leave now.”

“You’re joking,” you said. He shrugged.

“I don’t see why not. I’d prefer to have you right under my nose and the safe house is such a drive.”

“Thank you!” You squealed, sitting up suddenly. “Can Domeric and Ben come, too?”

“I would expect nothing less,” Ramsay sighed, standing back up and facing the door. He turned around for a split second, his blue eyes sparkling as he tossed the little black book at you. Your sketchpad. You opened it to find the sketch you'd drawn of him in the car. He'd autographed it in obnoxious black pen, which would've made you roll your eyes, had you not been caught up on another detail.

The drawing had changed. Where before it had been a side profile of him staring fixedly at the road, now its lips were etched into a smirk, eyes staring hypnotizingly back at you. You looked up from the book long enough to see the exact same expression mirrored on Ramsay's face.

-

If you’d like to be added to the taglist for this fic, please let me know! <3

Taglist: hnslchw

#ramsay bolton x reader #ramsay bolton x you #ramsay bolton / reader #ramsay bolton / you #ramsay bolton fanfiction #ramsay bolton fanfic #ramsay bolton fic #ramsay bolton/reader #ramsay bolton/you #ramsay snow x reader #ramsay snow x you #ramsay snow/reader #ramsay snow/you #ramsay snow / reader #ramsay snow / you #ramsay snow fanfic #ramsay snow fanfiction #ramsay snow fic #As My Witness #asmywitness

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

✎ masterlist ✎

this is a collection of all my one shots. more will be added as i continue to write. requests are closed!

[ key: ]

🌷 ≈ fluff

🍑 ≈ smut

🌪️ ≈ angst

💻 ≈ wip

•finnick odair•

— the five stages » 🌪️

— hungry eyes » 🍑

— love(rs) and war » 🍑

— what friends do » 🍑🌷

— lionfish, seahorses, and dolphins, oh my! » 🌷

— beautiful mess » 🌷🌪️

— two souls, one heart » 🌪️

— nsfw alphabet » 🍑

— flower therapy » 🌪️🌷

— bad idea, right? » 🍑🌪️

— red wine: part 1, part 2, part 3 »🌷🌪️

— forbidden fruit » 🍑

— a darling and a virgin » 🌪️🍑

•bellamy blake•

— close call » 🍑

— bioluminescence » 🌷

— pretty fixation, wicked temptation » 🍑

•gally (the maze runner)•

— relationship headcanons pt. two » 🌷

— relationship headcanons » 🌷🌪️🍑

• (more characters to be added)•

#wife of all dilfs ✍️ #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #jim halpert #jim halpert x reader #jon snow #jon snow x reader #ramsay bolton #ramsay bolton x reader #gally maze runner #gally x reader #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi x reader #void stiles #void stiles x reader #mitch rapp #mitch rapp x reader #gilbert blythe #gilbert blythe x reader #peeta mellark #peeta mellark x reader #mike schmidt #mike schimdt x reader #stiles stilinkski #stiles stilinski x reader

[axelsagewrites]

Main Masterlist Here

House of the Dragon Masterlist Here

Warnings/Guides

【P】Platonic【P】 🆇Smut 18+🆇

Request Line Up and Request Rules

♡ Jon Snow ♡

🆇What he's like in bed🆇

Blind date

🆇Milady🆇

🆇Home Alone🆇

🆇Price of My Secrecy 🆇

Relationship Moodboard

🆇Couldn't Resist🆇

♡ Robb Stark ♡

Best Friend

Marriage night

🆇Dream🆇 🆇part two🆇

Frey Girl 🆇part two🆇

🆇I miss you🆇

Cloak

Honey Cakes (cloak part two or standalone)

Comfort

Sweet Girl

🆇NSFW Alphabet🆇

🆇Good girl🆇

Yearbook

Don't Die For Me

🆇Little Secret🆇

🆇Can't Catch a Break🆇

Goodnight Dear Husband

♡ Sandor Clegane ♡

Most People Say Goodbye Part One - Part Two

🆇Brat🆇

♡ Beric Dondarrian ♡

Home

♡ Thoros of Myr ♡

Favourite Friend

♡ Brienne of Tarth ♡

【P】Queen in the North and South【P】

♡Ned Stark♡

🆇MiLord🆇

🆇Wife🆇

♡Ramsay Bolton♡

🆇My Father Would Kill Me🆇

🆇Catch You🆇

🆇How Far Would You Go🆇

🆇Appreciate You🆇

🆇Bath🆇

🆇Little Mouse🆇

♡Roose Bolton♡

Perhaps

Not Yet

♡Edmure Tully♡

【P】Who We Call Family【P】

My Queen My Love

♡Theon Greyjoy♡

Dream of Sweet Memories

🆇Give it back🆇

♡Sansa Stark♡

Roommates

🆇NSFW Alphabet🆇

🆇What's This?🆇

Surprise Visit

♡Podrick Payne♡

🆇Praise🆇

♡Daenereys Targaryen♡

🆇My Queen🆇

♡Jamie Lannister♡

🆇Extra Credit🆇

♡Oberyn Martell♡

🆇Duty🆇

♡Margaery Tyrell♡

🆇Ropes🆇

♡Cersei♡

🆇Morning🆇

♡Tormund♡

🆇Real Man🆇

🆇Use your words🆇

♡ Yara Greyjoy ♡

Flirting

Preferences/Multicharacter

🆇Company🆇 - Yara and Ellaria threesome

🆇What they're like in bed🆇 – Robb, Jon, Sandor, Podrick

How they react to teasing – all

🆇What They're Like in Bed🆇 – Margaery, Sansa, Danny, Yara

Share pt1 🆇Competition pt2🆇 🆇Wait p3🆇 - Robb and Jon

🆇Hook ups🆇 - Theon and Jon

Love Languages - Jon, Robb, Bran, Tormund, Podrick, Oberyn

Thanks for any support I appreciate it all xoxo Sage

Dividers from here and here from @saradika

Post topper made on Canva

#game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #ned stark x reader #robb stark x reader #sansa stark x reader #bran stark x reader #jon snow x reader #sandor clegane x reader #jamie lannister x reader #ramsay bolton x reader #brienne of tarth x reader #podrick payne x reader #got #got x reader #got imagine #game of thrones imagine #masterlist #game of thrones fanfic #robb stark #jon snow #game of thrones smut #robb stark smut #theon greyjoy x reader #yara greyjoy x reader #daenerys targaryen smut

[yandere-toons]

Ramsay: Thank you for saving my life

Sorcerer reader: I'm literally and eldritch being

RAMSAY:

HOUSE LANNISTER:

OBERYN MARTELL:

SAMWELL TARLY (+ JON):

#yandere #yandere concept #yandere x reader #yandere game of thrones #yandere ramsay bolton #yandere memes #game of thrones #ramsay bolton #game of thrones x reader #ramsay bolton x reader #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #asoiaf meme #yandere poly #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell #house lannister #samwell tarly #jon snow #reaction meme #reaction gif

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Mine First, Mine Last, Mine Even in the Grave

Pairing: Ramsay Bolton x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, minors keep away!, innocent MC

Words: 2797

Summary: Even at such a young age, Ramsay was proving a difficult and willful child. He was somewhat twisted in nature that sometimes disturbed his mother. However once he laid eyes on the little baby, he immediately grew attached to her.

"You mean she’s all mine?” A little Ramsay peers over the crib at the little bundle that fussed around in her blankets. He was standing on his tippy toes just so that he was barely able to peer over the side.

“Not exactly. . .” His mother informs him a bit hesitantly. How was she to tell him that the baby was left on their doorstep? That she had debated on letting it freeze to death had Ramsay not opened the door and found her. Even at such a young age, Ramsay was proving a difficult and willful child. He was somewhat twisted in nature that sometimes disturbed his mother. However once he laid eyes on the little baby, he immediately grew attached to her.

Now she was stuck raising two children. It was the last thing she wanted. At least Roose Bolton was kind enough to give her money and ways to make a living for her and their child. She now had to split that money three ways now since Ramsay just refused to let the little babe go.

With a gentleness that his mother had never seen before, Ramsay brushes a little finger along the curve of the baby’s chubby cheek. “You’re mine, (y/n). You belong to me.”

*Several Years Later*

He had insisted that you come along with him to the Dreadfort. That there was no other place better for you than by his side. At least that’s what he always told you. You were his constant companion since the day you could remember. Ramsay had always been in your life. Hovering over you and sometimes smothering you, but it was the only thing you had known.

Ramsay was happy to be at the Dreadfort, his rightful home as he had always told you. It had taken his father this long to request his presence. You knew how much this meant to him. How much being part of the Bolton family meant. Yet he still held the surname of Snow. His father hadn’t quite accepted him that much yet. So he would work hard to earn the name Bolton. And he would make sure you would be by his side.

You hadn’t seen Ramsay in days. You were excited that he was finally to return home from his hunting excursion with his father and brother. Peeking from your window, you try and go further on your tippy toes but it’s no good. All you could see are the Bolton banners being abused by the northern winds. With an impatient huff you turn on your heels and throw open the door of your room. Rushing down the hall, the excitement in you bubbled out of control as you grinned. Oh how you had been so bored without Ramsay. Maybe he would take you riding!

Taking the stairs two at a time you practically fly up to the balcony that faced the gates to the Dreadfort. The loud groaning and rumbling of the gate alerts everyone to their arrival. Containing your giddiness was nearly impossible. You had to wait until he was in eyesight though. You lean forward over the edge a bit.

“Excited?”

Freezing you turn to see Myranda standing right next to you. For the life of you, you couldn’t think of what you did for her to dislike you so much. Her face held a sneer as she looked at you.

“O-Of course. Ramsay’s home. Why wouldn’t I be excited?” You ask hesitantly. She was always mean to you so of course you were standoffish with even speaking to her. Myranda always made fun of you, commenting on how you were way too innocent for Ramsay to keep an interest in you. What did she mean by that?

The clopping of multiple hooves made you turn away from her. You didn’t want to hear what she had to say anyway. Your smile returns. Cupping your hands to your mouth you scream out “RAMSAY!!”

You had only been able to see the crown of his dark hair, but once your voice rang out he immediately lifts his head to the balcony. His grin was unmistakable.

Carefully moving around Myranda you hastily pick up your skirts and run to meet Ramsay at the bottom.

You didn’t give him much time to settle down onto the ground before you threw yourself at him. Ramsay was always ready for you though. He swoops you up in his arms and spins the two of you around.

“Did you miss me (y/n)?” His cold nose nuzzles against your neck making you squirm.

“Of course! That’s such a silly question to ask!” Burying your face in the pelts of his coat you take a deep breath in. You missed the smell of him. Something caught your eye though behind him. You lift your face to get a better look. “Ramsay. . . Who are those people?” They were bounded by chains, bloody and beaten.

Ramsay quickly puts you down, blocking your view. “Oh, no need to worry about them. They’re bad people.” His hands go to caress your face and bring your gaze back to him but you’re still trying to get a look at them.

“Why have you brought them here then?” A kiss to the crown of your head brings you away from the question though and you smile up at him.

“I missed you too (y/n).” Ramsay’s voice was always sweet like honey when he spoke to you. Sweet and full of adoration. You knew there would never be a man who loved you as much as Ramsay did. He even told you so and you felt it to be true. “Let’s get out of the cold. Tell me what you did while I was gone.”

He leads you back inside of the castle, listening patiently as you told him how bored you were and that you really hadn’t done much. But one of the stable boys had helped you get onto your horse and even walked around the courtyard with you with the reigns in his hand as he made sure your horse didn’t get out of hand.

His hand froze on your shoulder. “Is that so?”

“Yes, he was very nice to me.” Nodding, you notice nothing out of the ordinary and continue on. “He even told me why horses need shoes on just like people! Did you know that the nails don’t actually hurt the horse? It would hurt me if someone put nails on my feet.”

“(y/n), do you remember the name of the stable boy?” asks Ramsay nonchalantly.

You think for a moment, index finger on your chin. “I believe his name is Joenn.” That’s when he stops you mid-step. You look back at him. “What’s wrong Ramsay?”

There’s dark foreboding on his face, even his pale eyes speak of a warning. “(y/n) you must be more careful next time.”

Scrunching your brows into a furrow, you tilt your head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You can’t be talking to men so freely like that. You can’t trust them. They’re all evil. Except for me, of course. I would never hurt you (y/n). They will though. Once they see that you’re guard is down they’ll try to hurt you. All of them.”

“W. . . Why would they want to hurt me?”

Seeing the clear fear on your face, he returns to being more softly and pulls you closer to him. “Because you’re sweet. All men want a taste of the sweetest fruits. Promise me you won’t talk to any other man unless I’m with you. I can protect you.”

“O-Okay.”

*

Ramsay wiped his hands clean of Joenn’s blood. It wouldn’t do for his precious (y/n) to see any speck of blood on him. Bad enough that she saw the prisoners that they had brought in. He wouldn’t dare expose her to that side of him. She was far too sweet for that world. Always smiling so easily at him. Yes, she was the one thing that solely belonged to him. That much Ramsay can confidently say; (y/n) was his.

“Are you done then?” Ramsay hears Myranda’s purr from the doorway of the dungeon.

Myranda had been fun to play with, but she could never truly replace (y/n). As much as he wanted (y/n) to remain sweet and pure there was a hunger in Ramsay for her. It was hard enough for himself as it was to control such urges. Everything she did made him want her even more.

The rag still in his hands he looks up at her. “Yes. Just had to take care of a pest problem.”

Myranda eyes the boy still hanging on the large wooden X. “A pest problem?”

“Yes. He got to near (y/n) for my liking.”

Immediately her dark eyes narrow at the mention of her. “You were jealous. You never get jealous when it comes to me.”

Ramsay offers her a carefree laugh. “I don’t have to worry about you. (y/n) however is too innocent. She doesn’t know how much she attracts men with her sweetness. She’s mine. I have to make that a point to the other vermin that skulk around her when I’m gone.”

“She’s a sweet idiot. Why waste your time on her if you don’t plan to fuck her?” She asks haughtily. The green venom of jealousy eating away at her. She couldn’t stand how much Ramsay adored the girl. Whenever she thought she had the upper hand (y/n) would always do something to take Ramsay’s attention away from her. What did that idiot have to offer? Surely not sex. That girl seemed like one who didn’t even know what her cunt was truly for. Ramsay had kept her sheltered. So why? Why was he so. . . in love with her?

“I’ll not have you speak about her in such a manner.” warns Ramsay, the glint in his eyes making Myranda press her lips together. Normally she would’ve gotten excited. When he used that tone it usually always led to rough sex. Not when it concerned (y/n) though. “Unlike you she’s precious and delicate. She requires nurturing before I take a bite of her.”

Yes, eventually he would taste her. Eventually he would make (y/n) his in every way possible. No man would ever be able to lay a claim on her once her marked her. Eventually. . . Eventually he would make her a Lady. It wasn’t just conquest of her that Ramsay aimed for. He would truly make her is. Ramsay would give her his name, a title, and eventually, his child. (y/n) would make an outstanding wife and mother. In due time. He just had to wait until his father truly claimed him as a Bolton.

She was the only one to ever make him breathless.

There he stood in her doorway as she stood nude in her room, appraising the massive fur pelt that Ramsay had given her. Fresh from the animal he had taken it from. The light of the candles highlighted her curves ever so perfectly as she swayed her hips unconsciously, smiling and running her hands in the fur before turning her attention to Ramsay. Her eyes widen a bit in surprise before she goes back to smiling. (y/n) reaches for her robe. “Hello Ramsay! I was just about to go take a bath. Would you like to join me? It’s been forever since we’ve bathed together!”

And there was a reason for that. Every time he caught sight of her naked body his cock would spring to life. It was against his nature to refuse his carnal desires. For (y/n) though he would.

Ramsay could feel his hand twitch, urging him to touch her. He wanted that damn robe off of her. Already he could feel his cock swelling from the peek he had received.

(y/n) cocks her head expectantly at him with a hopeful smile. “Come on Ramsay! We used to take baths all the time when we lived with your mother!”

Damn

Damn

Damn

Ramsay couldn’t take it anymore. He closed the distance between them, the heat in his groin becoming unbearable. He wanted what was his. Such sweet lips she possessed. Ramsay cupped her face roughly and smashed his lips against them. (y/n) jerks a little bit from the surprise. Wordlessly he pulls away to gaze down at her flushed face. (e/c) eyes dewey and half lidded, her lips parted from the loss of Ramsay’s. Hand snaking down her neck at past her robe to feel up her breast. With the slightest tug he slides her robe off of her to expose her once more. Grinning he he cranes his neck so that he could take soft nips against her slender neck. Shuddering, (y/n) bites down on her bottom lip and tilts her head back as she releases a shallow moan. Good. She was incredibly receptive to his touches.

With a shove, she lands on her pelt with stunned eyes staring at Ramsay. Utterly divine. Ramsay runs his tongue against his lips and starts to crawl on top of her. Brushing his lips along the length of her torso. “You’re mine (y/n). You understand? You’ll be my wife someday. Mother of my children. Lady of the Dreadfort.” Front teeth bite down on to her pert nipple making her wince a bit. To make up for it Ramsay rolled his tongue over the abused bud and gentle sucked at it. The sound of her breath growing shallow made his cock strain against his pants. It begged to be let out. To be between her legs and pulsate inside of her. As a substitute Ramsay slides his fingers inside of her making her back arch and her mouth gape wide. She’s barely able to groan out his name before he starts pumping them in and out, curling them inside of her and making her start to whimper.

“Does that feel good (y/n)?” Concentrated on her contorting facial expressions, Ramsay moves his fingers slower giving her enough time to answer him.

“Y. . . Y-Yes. . .” (y/n)’s eyes are closed, eyebrows furrowed as she instinctively thrusts her pelvis to the rhythm of Ramsay’s ministrations. She wanted more. She wanted more of him. “Please. . .”

“Please what?”

“More. . .”

He feels his own heart racing at the fact that she didn’t know what she wanted more of. “Say that you want my cock. That you want my cock inside of your sweet cunt.”

As if her cheeks weren’t red already they were now beaming brightly as she turns her face away with embarrassment.

“I’ll give you what you want. You just have to say it (y/n).”

Her lips part several times, trying to form the words. She struggles even more when Ramsay stops his movements all together. “I-I want your cock. . .”

Immense pleasure fills him as he lets his thumb graze her clit. As if electricity jolted through her, her body clenches at the foreign feeling. “And where do you want my cock?”

“In my. . . I-I-In my s. . . sweet c-cunt.”

Who was he to deny his beloved (y/n) anything?

Within seconds his britches were off and his cock was finally free and prodding at (y/n)’s soaking cunt. Rubbing the head along her slit made (y/n) squirm incessantly, her thighs twitching with anticipation. Ramsay lifts up her thighs, fingers digging into them as he props her legs against his shoulders. One thrust of his hips and Ramsay was balls deep inside. She yelps at the intrusion, her maiden’s head having been penetrated. There’s no letting up now that Ramsay was finally inside of her. The one place he had longed to be since they had both come of age. Incredibly warm and tight, Ramsay continues to drive into her mercilessly. Her moans are torn and scattered as she can barely catch her breath. Every carnal instinct and desire spilled forth. He wanted to consume her entirely. Teeth bit down harshly on her fragile skin, enough to draw blood. Tongue lapped at the sweat that beaded on her temple. Fingers digging desperately just to get her closer despite them already being as close as two bodies could get.

More.

More.

In that lustful haze Ramsay hardly registered (y/n) coming to her climax until the walls of her cunt tightened in revenge around his cock. That was the last thing he needed to come undone himself. The very breath was stolen from him as his body locked up, spilling his seed inside of her that would guarantee him an heir.

Exhausted, his face drops to the crook of her neck. Gingerly her hand goes to his shoulder to press him closer to her panting form.

“Mine. . .” He pants. “You’re all mine.”

#reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones fanfic #asoiaf fanfiction #game of thrones #ramsay bolton x reader #ramsay bolton #ramsay bolton fanfiction #ramsay snow #a song of ice and fire fanfic #a song of ice and fire fanfiction #game of thrones reader insert

[puppyxaegon]

Would you guys still fw me if i started posting insane Ramsay fics...BE HONEST

#because they're already in the drafts #I'm so insane about him sorry #ramsay snow #ramsay bolton #ramsay bolton fanfic #thramsay #ramsay bolton x reader #ramsay bolton art #ramsay bolton fanart #not my art

[ramsayxme]

Chapter One / Chapter Two / AO3 Link

Authors Note: TW- forced sex, forced oral sex, slight violence, Ramsay things, abandonment, etc etc.

Chapter Three: Your Reward

You finished your bath alone. A servant came in to add wood to the fire, allowing you to have promised warmth for the night. The water grew cold as you soaked, hoping and praying to the Gods that the water would cleanse you of his touch. When the water was finally as cold as the air, you pulled yourself out and slumped in front of the fire, pulling your knees to your chest. You hadn't been given another nightgown. You wrapped a pelt around your shivering and damp body as you allowed yourself to air dry in front of the fire.

Once you dried, you padded naked to the door. You knocked aggressively. "Can I get some clothes?" You yelled. A man was on the other side, keeping watch of your door, and he hollered back to you in a gruff voice. "Lord Ramsay has not delivered any clothes for his prisoner." You huffed, slightly annoyed. You walked over to your bed and laid down, covering yourself with the blankets. It was nearly impossible to tell what time of day it was here, your tiny window only ever showed overcast snowy skies.

You closed your eyes, exhausted from the last 48 hours, and wanted to attempt to get some sleep while Ramsay was likely on a hunt or doing whatever it was that evil Lord's did during the day. You closed your eyes, and drifted to sleep.

******************************

You stirred, waking up. Your room was nearly pitch dark, the fire completely dead. The only light you could focus on was the lit candles on your small table. You jumped, realizing that Ramsay was sitting at the chair next to your table, staring at you as you woke up. He had a wine cup in front of him, no doubt full to the brim. He had no expression on his face as he stared at you. You closed your eyes again, hoping that he wasn't really there and you were imagining things.

"I brought you the clothes you asked for." Ramsay's voice echoed in your room, breaking the silence. You groaned, your body was aching. You opened your eyes to look at Ramsay. "Thank you...M'lord." You whispered as you sat up in bed, making sure the blankets stayed over your naked skin. "Do you have any idea what time it is?" He asked you. You gingerly rubbed your face, softly allowing your brain to turn on again. "No, Rams- My Lord. I don't know." He chuckled. "You slept all day and all night. You poor, tired thing." He suddenly stood up, the chair scooting loudly.

You believed him. You had been so exhausted, you could imagine yourself sleeping that long. "I'm sorry, My Lord, I was very tired." You watched him intently as he walked over to your bed, sitting on the foot of it. "It's quite alright. I forgive you." He smiled, his eyes strangely calm. You didn't understand his dynamic, one minute he was angry at you and the next, loving and soft. He leaned forward towards you, and whispered, "I missed you yesterday. I came by last night but I saw how deeply you were sleeping. I didn't want to..." his eyes rolled around their sockets, searching for the right words. "...disturb you."

You forced a gentle smile. "Well, thank you for that. I needed the rest. That was... very kind of you." Ramsay chuckled, placing his hand on top of your leg over the blankets. "Kindness is what I am known for, My Lady." You weren't sure what to do, so you just softly smiled at him. He stood up and walked to the window, staring outside. "You deserve a reward, you see." He began.

"Last night after I visited and then left, the servant who was in charge of locking the door seemed to have forgotten his duties. Your door went unlocked all night long as you slept!" He exclaimed. Your heart sank. You could've escaped. You mentally scolded yourself for not being more vigilant. "But! Don't you worry, I took care of him. He won't be guarding your door any longer... come and see!" He beckoned you with his hand. You slid off the bed, dragging the blankets on the floor behind you, still covering your body.

You reached the window and Ramsay draped his arm over your shoulders, pressing his cheek against yours. "Look, there." He pointed outside. Your eyes followed the imaginary line until you saw it. Hanging on a wooden platform, there was the bloody and fully exposed muscular system of what was once a man. You gasped and looked away, burying your face into Ramsay's shoulder. He chuckled. "Aww, you are so innocent. That was the man that failed to lock the door, you see? I could've done that to you when you tried to run away. But, I showed you mercy." He cooed into your ear, his free hand playing with your hair.

"Are you ready for your reward?" He asked, using his index finger to tilt your chin up to look at him. "Are you going to flay me?" You asked, lower lip trembling. Ramsay smiled empathetically and cradled your face with his hand. "No of course not. Your reward isn't being flayed, silly girl. Your reward is pleasure." You stiffened, unsure of what he was alluding to. "Go, lay on the bed." He pointed towards your bed. You reluctantly made your way and laid down, burrowing under the covers. Ramsay began unlacing his shirt as he approached you. You prepared yourself to be used once again by him, and a knot formed in your stomach.

You closed your eyes, listening to Ramsay's leather fall to the floor along with his trousers and the clatter of his knives. You felt the weight on the bed as he climbed on top of you. You opened your eyes, expecting his face to be in front of you, but it wasn't. You saw him lifting the covers at the foot of the bed, and crawling head first in. "Let me please you." You heard him say under the blankets. Your body stiffened as you felt his shoulders between your ankles, and then up to your thighs.

He pushed your knees up, resting your thighs on his shoulders. You clamped your legs together, but Ramsay softly spread them. You felt your stomach churn, but this time, it wasn't with anxiety. You felt your core warm up as he began kissing your inner thighs softly, gently sucking as his lips grazed your skin. You held your breath as his hands traveled up, squeezing your breast softly, rubbing his thumb over your nipples. You whined, your body at war with itself. Ramsay was coaxing you gently with kisses, begging you to relax as he kissed as high as he could on your thighs.

You exhaled a moan as his lips met your wet cunt, kissing and sucking gently. He hummed with delight as he felt you were already wet for him. He gripped your thighs with his hands as he pulled your legs apart, allowing him full access to your most sensitive area. "Ramsay I-" You tried to say, but were cut off by your own gasping as he swirled his tongue around your clit. He was very good at this, which was making your body go into a pleasure induced swim even if you didn't want it to.

He continued to kiss your folds, his tongue snaking inside you as his nose pressed against you perfectly. You allowed your eyes to close as you sank deeper into his trance. You reached under the blankets and started swirling your fingers in his curls, gently gripping at his hair. He groaned as you did so, causing vibrations to gently tickle you as he licked. Your grip on his hair tightened as he licked faster and more passionately. "Doesn't that feel good?" He groaned, his lips grazing your clit. You moaned in response because unfortunately, it did.

You had never been eaten out before, but Ramsay definitely knew what he was doing. Your body was shivering under his touch, a flick of the tongue was enough to send a rolling wave of lust over you. You wanted him badly. You tugged at his hair and lifted the covers. "Ramsay, I want-" He reached up and covered your mouth with his hand. You whined into his hand as he silenced you, his other hand made its way down to your core.

"I know what you want." He whispered while pushing two of his fingers deep inside you. You lifted your hips, begging for more. He slowly slid his fingers in and out of you, the slow pace driving you crazy. Your hips began grinding on his fingers as he kept kissing your clit. You felt yourself climbing towards orgasm, and Ramsay could tell. He read it on your face. He pulled himself up, and his fingers slid out of you completely. Ramsay lie down next to you on the bed and he put one of his toned arms behind his head.

He grinned at you, his face slick with your arousal as he grabbed a handful of your hair and yanked you down to his waist. You immediately took his hard cock in your mouth. "That's right, good girl." He groaned as you began allowing his cock to fill your throat. You bobbed your head slowly up and down on his length, you couldn't quite fit all of it in your throat without gagging. Ramsay seemed to enjoy the gagging, though. You felt his hands on the back of your head as he applied pressure, pushing your face down on his cock.

You groaned, gagging on him. He exhaled loudly as you gagged around him, your throat contracting on his twitching cock. "Ahh, that feels so good..." His voice was raspy and low. You wanted him inside you. At this moment, you didn't care that he had flayed a man earlier today just for fun. You didn't care that he would probably hurt you within the next hour. You didn't care that he was Ramsay Bolton.

You pushed yourself up, Ramsay staring at you wide eyed. You quickly straddled him, his cock soaking wet with your spit. He chuckled as he saw the desperation in your eyes. "You want me badly, don't you?" He reached out, squeezing your hips. You nodded, whining as you rocked back and forth on his lap, his cock nudging at your entrance. "Take me then. After all, this is your reward."

Ramsay kept kneading at your hips and thighs as you guided his cock inside you. Your body was sent into a euphoric state as he filled you, moaning loudly as your walls stretched to accommodate him. Ramsay was watching you intently as you filled with pleasure, his eyes wide and tracking your face as you slid up and down. Sweat began forming on his forehead and on you as well. Your legs were already so sore from everything you had been through and he noticed you struggling to keep a decent pace.

Ramsay smiled, flipping you over so he was on top. "I'll take care of you, you just enjoy your reward..." he began thrusting into you. Your eyes rolled back as you allowed him to fuck you at his own pace. You didn't realize how badly you wanted him until now. You dug your fingernails into his back as he thrusted, groaning while you dug them in deep. You felt the warmth of your orgasm approaching as he continued to keep the pace. You started to tip over the edge, spilling over and flooding with pleasure. Ramsay didn't slow as he fucked you through your orgasm.

You were panting, aching, and trembling as Ramsay pulled out of you and threw you to the floor by your hair. You slammed onto the ground hard and looked up at him, your body and mind spinning from being so full of pleasure to suddenly thrown on the floor. Ramsay stepped forward, his cock dripping from being inside you. He grabbed your hair and lifted you to your knees, forcing his cock into your mouth. You didn't have the strength or energy to fight back as he fucked your face.

You barely had caught your breath before his cock was in your throat and you were gagging on him again. He groaned words to you, but you were in such a haze that you didn't understand them. He let go of your hair and you fell to the floor, leaving his cock unattended. He growled angrily as he lifted you up and threw you on the bed face first. He slammed his hand down, smacking your ass cheek so hard you let out a shriek. "I said bend over!" He barked. You must've not heard him the first time, as you positioned yourself on the edge of the bed.

His hands grabbed your hips and he fucked you from behind, slamming your thighs into the side of the mattress. He kept smacking your ass, leaving you whining like a pathetic whore. You could tell Ramsay was close to finishing as he got more erratic with his thrusts. He flipped you over to your back, and he straddled your stomach. One of his hands immediately went around your throat while his other hand began stroking his cock which was twitching and ready to release.

He began choking you as he jerked himself off, he was completely sweaty and his face was very serious. You couldn't help but swoon at the sight in front of you. You almost felt lucky to see him like this. Suddenly, the hand choking you pulled back and landed swiftly across your cheek, sending a ringing through your ears. He smacked you across the face. You cried out and Ramsay came, his warm cum hitting you in the face where he slapped you and sliding down to pool in your neck. He held a fist full of your hair from the top of your head as he finished cumming.

His breathing was heavy as he stood up, leaving you on the bed covered in his seed. He smiled at you as he threw you a cloth off the floor. "Keep doing good things and I will reward you more often." He grinned as he pulled his clothes back on. You laid there, wiping his cum from your face and neck. "You do look lovely like this..." He chuckled as he pulled his shirt over his head. "Now, be a good girl and clean up this room. I'll be back for you tomorrow." Ramsay swiftly left the room without another word.

You finished wiping yourself off and sat in silence, allowing your body and mind to process what just happened. On one hand, you were humiliated and hated him for using 'your reward' as a chance to just get what he wanted... but on the other hand, you were pleased to be the lady who he used for his pleasure. You were confused and ashamed as you splashed the cold water from your last bath on your face, washing yourself up. You argued with yourself as part of you wished he would come back for more.

Chapter Four

#game of thrones #ramsay bolton #ramsaybolton #got #ramsayboltonsmut #ramsay snow #thramsay #ramseybolton #ramsey bolton #ramsey snow #asoiaf smut #asoiaf one shot #one shot #ramsay bolton x reader #house bolton #house bolton smut #roose bolton #reek #reek asoiaf #theon greyjoy

[agent-whiskeys-sweetheart]

Yay your requests are open again!! :) if you are still doing game of thrones requests. Could you possibly right about some of the characters defending you against any disrespect or question of your character?

I love this request! Thanks so much for sending it in! 

Jaime - Jaime would fight to defend your honor. Not necessarily to the death but he would make a huge show of fighting in your place to make sure that no one ever disrespects you again. He knows you’d be scared to defend yourself so he’s happy to do it for you.

Sandor - Sandor would kill any man that dares disrespect you. He wouldn’t bother to talk or negotiate with them. The moment that a disrespectful word about you comes out of their mouth he’s slicing their throat. He would make sure you’re never disrespected again. 

Petyr - Petyr would engage in a battle of wits with whoever is stupid enough to talk badly about his girl. He would always wins as his opponent is woefully underprepared in terms of intelligence. Petyr would end the fight with a grin, knowing he’s defended you well. 

Jon - Jon wouldn’t want to start a fight over it. He would know that it’s for the best to be the better people and walk away rather than fighting about it. Of course he’d want to fight for you but he thinks it’s best to leave the whole situation alone and be with you instead.

Robb - Robb would start a fight with anyone that disrespects you. He wouldn’t want to do permanent damage to your verbal assailant but he would definitely prove that he’ll come to your aid every time. He would be sure to give you lots of praise and love when he’s done.

Tywin - Tywin wouldn’t personally kill whoever it is but he’d make sure that they disappear for good. He’d never want you to have to face them ever again. Anything that brings you discomfort or unhappiness has no place in your world. So he makes them go away. 

Bronn - Bronn wouldn’t give a shit about the person that disrespects you. That’s not to say he doesn’t care. He just doesn’t care about their opinion. He’d much rather spend time making sure that you feel loved and taken care of than fighting someone he doesn’t care about.

Jorah - Jorah would immediately usher you away from whoever it was that disrespected you and shower you with love and affection. He would want you to completely forget about that person so that all you can remember is his undying adoration and love for you. 

Ramsay - Ramsay would happily torture the person that disrespected you. He would make you sit and watch as he tears them limb from limb so that you know that he’ll always defend and take care of you. It’s his sick twisted way of showing you that he adores you.

Stannis - Stannis is a king. No one disrespects his girl and gets away with it. However he is also a just king. He would throw them in a dungeon to spend the rest of their days rotting away, thinking about the way that they disrespected you and facing the consequences.

Oberyn - Oberyn would get so pissed. You’d have to hold him back to keep him from stabbing the person that disrespected you. However, he wouldn’t because he knows it would displease you. No matter what he wants to make sure that you’re happy and taken care of.

Dany - Dany would be completely enraged. She would bring the guilty party before her and she would have her dragons burn them to death. She would never want to have to look on that piece of garbage again and she wouldn’t want you to have to either. 

Brienne - Brienne wants to be the bigger person. She would end up giving the person one swift punch, knocking them out with a single hit. That would be the extent of her rage and then she would lead you away by the hand, giving you a kiss and telling you she loves you.

#game of thrones #game of thrones preferences #game of thrones x reader #jaime lannister #sandor clegane #petyr baelish #jon snow #robb stark #tywin lannister #bronn of the blackwater #jorah mormont #ramsay bolton #stannis baratheon #oberyn martell #danaerys targaryen #brienne of tarth

[francis-writes]

Could you please do a Ramsay x Reader where she is captured and he is mean to her at first but eventually has a soft spot for her. If you could make it a smut that would be awesome where he is dominate in bed?

A/N: I am sorry, it turned out probably less uhh fluffy than you expected. Capture and domination are kept in the story, soft spot is debatable.

Warnings: Ramsay being Ramsay, cutting, mentions of torture, non-con

Reader is gender neutral

You pressed your legs to your chest, trying to protect yourself from coldness of your cell. Stone floor wasn't comfortable in anyway and your body was aching, no matter which position you tried - sitting, laying on your back, laying curled up etc.

You didn't expect your situation to get any better soon, to be perfectly honest, you were certain that it will only get much worse. Your host wasn't a person known for his mercy. No, Ramsay Bolton's guests often ended up skinless and crucified. It didn't seem that you would be any exception, considering how he was treating you. Fortunately, you still had your entire skin and probably mostly unbroken bones. Since your capture, you kept seeing young lord Bolton everyday but for now he only kept mocking and threatening you. A few times he maimed another prisoner and made sure that you were looking. It seemed that for now, he didn't need to hurt your body, it was enough for him to see that fear in your eyes. Torturing people was great for him, for sure, but breaking them mentally could create almost as good entertainment.

***

Ramsay was walking through the corridors of Dreadfort, heading to the dungeon. He recently enjoyed spending his time there for more reasons than usually (the bar was low because his usual reason was just torturing prisoners).

One of the people he captured last week, captured young Bolton's attention. They were beautiful and he considered hunting them in the wood but eventually he left that idea. At least for now. He could always sent them to the woods but at this moment he just enjoyed seeing fear at their face when they saw what he was capable of. He wanted them to be already scared and broken when he would finally take care of them. And that was probably this day. He couldn't wait any longer - denying himself pleasure was never his strong spot.

Ramsay found your cell and looked at you, hiding in the corner. He would take you right there and right now but he decided that he would rather have some more privacy this time. He opened the door and you raised your head.

"You are lucky" he said "Today will be able to see my bed chamber"

***

His hand pressed your face into hard floor. You managed to turn your head a bit so you could stare into a wall while his hand ripped off whatever was left of your clothes. His fingers, warm and calloused after years of working with knives, bows and other deadly weapons, wandered across your skin, squeezing your flesh so hard that you had to hold back a yelp. You couldn't see what was happening but realized everything when a sharp pain pierced your body. He cut you with a knife. Moreover, he kept doing. You cried, praying that there's still an ounce of mercy left in him.

"I beg you my Lord, don't flay me... I will do whatever you want" you pleaded between sobs.

"Don't worry, I'm not flaying you now. I only carve my name, so you will remember whom you belong to"

It comforted you a bit, though specifying that he wouldn't flay you "now" sounded a bit worrying.

You tried to grit your teeth and stay silent but he added:

"Don't hold back. You don't need to hide your cries, screams and whining. They won't help you but I would love to hear them"

After he finished his little artpiece, Ramsay leaned over and licked the blood off your wounds. You gasped as his rough tongue caressed your cuts.

He grabbed your thighs, pulled your ass up and your whole body closer to himself. He was a strong man, who spent most of his free time in the woods and you were still malnourished after staying locked in the dungeons, so manhandling you was the easiest thing to Ramsay.

Without any further preparation, he pulled out his cock and entered you. You didn't see him, but you could feel that he was thick. You moaned while he was stretching you. Ramsay didn't wait until you adjusted to his girth and he began to thrust brutally in and out of you. At first it was painful, tear kept running through your face but after a few minutes - though they felt like an eternity then - of his ruthless pace, you got used to the feeling and the intensity of the feeling even started bringing you kind of pleasure.

But before you got even close to cumming, Ramsay gasped and you felt his hot semen flooding your insides. He pulled out and stood up, grabbing your arm. If not his strong grip, you wouldn't be able to stand straight on your legs. Ramsay pulled you on the bed. He rested his head on a pillow and pressed your body to his. His hands kept groping your body as he looked at you with mix of hunger and admiration.

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

[dragons-and-handcuffs]

Imagine. You are the lady of a powerful and noble house. Moreover, you are married to the lord of a powerful house. You even have a few children. Somehow you cross paths with Roose. Maybe Roose is taking over you, willingly or by force. You become pregnant as a result of passionate and wild nights. Roose is taking precautions to make sure you don't get rid of the baby. Birth is painful. Moreover, having Roose in the room and humiliating you is even worse. You finally deliver the baby. The baby is just like a mini copy of Roose. Despite your objections, he puts the baby on her breast. He name the baby Derek. Baby Derek acts as if he's demanding that you pet him. It hurts when he sucks your breasts. He's pulling her hair out. You finally break down and accept your fate with tears in your eyes. Then you get pregnant two more times. You give birth to two more boys named Domeric and Ramsay. Among the three children, Domeric is the one who resembles you in character. However, all three children were hurting you when they were babies and children, demanding your love. Roose finds it very enjoyable to turn you into a submissive wife.

Imagine you are begging Roose to let you go after giving birth. You don't even want the baby. But he just dismisses your pleas and forces you to feed his son. If necessary he will tie you up.

Imagine immediately he is having the maester check how soon he can breed you again. If Roose wants you to feel more pain or something he will regularly make you drink some that makes you extra sensitive. Your son is a Bolton and very demanding. Every time he feeds he leaves you in tears

#roose bolton x reader #roose bolton #derek snow #derek bolton #ramsay snow #ramsay bolton #house bolton #hotd #game of thrones #house of the dragon #game of thrones imagines #hotd headcanon #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine #hotd imagines #hotd one shot #house of the dragon imagine #game of thrones fanfic #game of thrones fanfiction #got #game of thrones imagine #got imagine #got one shot #got oc #got fanfiction

[sugarprincessbitch]

Yandere Ramsay Bolton x Half-Sister! Reader pt. 2

When the Bolton's took over the north and Ramsay reclaimed it's throne as his, the tensions between your house and the stark survivors grew each passing day.

Everything inside winterfell was a mess, terror reign between it's walls, her brother ruled there like a tyrant and nowadays it was a common occurrence to found at least one dead man, woman or children.

In a way, the imminent attack of the starks got Ramsay occupied and he didn't have the time to visit as frequent as before, a relief for you.

Since Claude was born, rumors started to arise about the father of the child.

Claude's similarities in appearance with Ramsay increase each passing day as he grew up, but the habitants of the castle were to afraid with the possible fury of the childs father if a word of it reaches his ears.

Since the announce of your pregnancy, you were relegated to your chambers in which the majority it you passed it trap in there, sewing and reading being your only activities to pass the time.

When you had Claude, some of your liberties where given back, but with the exception of not going outside by your own, Ramsay was breathing behind your neck these days.

You thought that now that you gave what Ramsay wanted, a male heir, he would stop tormenting you.

But it appears to be that the sight of you pregnant increased his libido, and one night he told you that he wouldn't stop until you gave him more children.

Since Claude was born, Ramsay began to visit you in your chambers at night again, because of the maester warning your brother about letting you repose some moons before trying again, he didn't pressure you to give him a second child.

Ramsay took many prisoners, being one of them Theon greyjoy or what Ramsay likes to call him, reek.

You didn't heard a lot of the young man, but clearly you can tell how Ramsay's wicked games change him.

Theon and the little girl Jane pool, that Ramsay took as his sexual plaything apart from Myranda- That woman scared you, if looks could kill, you surely will be dead by now- were the only ones to show you kindness.

When Jon snow attacked the castle, everything became pure caos.

You couldn't get to see what was happening beside from what was in display for you to see through the tiny window of your room.

Ramsay entered at your rooms agitated and with blood on his upper body. Without losing time he grabbed you by the hand and forcefully drag you out to the courtyard.

"Ramsay please wait! Claude, i have to get Claude!" He didn't listen to you, looking around like a mad man he didn't heard you so you repeat it again.

"Stop fucking blabbering! You are going to get on the fucking horse and get away from here" the desperate screams of your baby where rumbling on the castle walls, this time you push him harder and got away from his strong grip.

"YOU BI-" someone stumble Ramsay to the floor making he unable to finish the insult. The men's of Jon snow were pressing him to the ground while he start to force with the men and throwing empty threats to the air.

The stark bastard and his sister- if I remember correctly she was the first daughter, sansa- were waiting for us in the courtyard, for mi horror Claude was with them, in the arms of one of the maids.

I felt my knees going weaker and my heart thumping harder, scared of what they might do to my son. They first question Ramsay, he didn't change his agressive demeanour against them, even when the life of his son was at game.

Jon proceed to look at me and ask me to decide my fate, because Ramsay had his decided, the atrocities he did were unforgivable.

If I pledge loyalty to them, they would give back to me the lands of the Bolton and it's right, if I don't.... My body will lay with my brother in the morrow.

That day Ramsay was sentence to death, kill by his own dogs, the ones that he brag about their loyalty to him.

In the morning you started your way to your family castle, along with your son and the men left behind from that horrendous battle.

#ransay bolton #house bolton #fanfic #headcanon #game of thrones universe #yandere game of thrones #yandere ramsay x reader #ramday x reader #asioaf #house stark #jon snow #sansa stark

[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