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darkdevasofdestruction · 2 years ago

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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

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beautifulblooms · 1 year ago

Text

A little catching up - Prince Sidon x Male Reader SMUT

So lmao, I finally got around to writing some nsfw content, this is actually fairly old but I figured I’d dig through some of my old files and post some things, I’m not super proud of this (deadass forgot I had it too, but I hope y’all enjoy it)

Heads-up, this doesn’t exactly reflect my current writing style (didn’t wanna rewrite all 3.2k words of it) so it might read a little funky with the first person reader.

Btw there will be more coming soon too, I’ve got a few projects in the works with CoD stuff.

CIS Women and Female Aligned people, please DNI, this story and all of my others are for non-binary, masculine aligned and male readers!

It’s been a long fucking week, first, you had to leave the domain to accompany Link on one of his quests, which left you bruised and pissed off. Then on the way back a blood moon rose to the sky and revived all the lizalfos, the octorocks, bokoblins, moblins, and even a few stray guardians that had landed themselves on the path back up to the domain. Finally reaching the bridge that led straight into the kingdom you sighed, the sun had risen by then and all you wanted to do was lay on Sidon’s stomach while he floated above the deep waters of the East reservoir.

Each step after the other felt forced and almost not your own as your legs began their usual path from the bridge up to the reservoir dam where the bed you had been given resided. Hoping to find your lover sprawled out there waiting for you or swimming within the waters you were sorely disappointed when he appeared to not even be there. Nor had anything changed in the area since you left. The bed was perfectly made from when you last left it. None of the bottles or dishes on the sides had been moved or opened. Even a thin layer of dust had begun to form, strange given the room was open air. Giving into the fact that your royal lover wasn’t there, you lay on the bed after removing your shield, armor, and weapons from their places amongst your body. Pulling the covers over yourself and closing your eyes a deep, well-deserved slumber was yours at last.

As you slept, Sidon was up at Vah Ruta watching over the lands of Hyrule as its red beam was aimed at Calamity Ganon. He had been none the wiser that you returned, your paths hadn’t collided given you could only take the roads home while he could swim all the way to the divine beast if he wished. The sun was directly overhead, noon, when Sidon decided he should head back, missing the comfort of the pools and the joyous laughter of young Zora running about. Climbing down the mountain Sidon wondered if you were back from your trip with Link yet. He only said that you would be gone a week at most, so he counted down the seven days that you were set to be gone. That’s the reason he came all the way up to Ruta, to see if he would be able to find you along the path and walk back to the domain hand in hand.

Once he reached the banks, he began swimming up the rivers, small falls, and finally one of the larger ones leading straight up into the central area of the domain. Asking around if anyone had seen you, the guard stationed at the entrance said you came through and said hello before heading up to the dam. He could’ve settled with a mere nod and would be sent running, but the fact that they told him where you were made him spring faster than he had ever run before. There was no direct path with water to your room, so the bridge and staircase leading up was the only option. Racing up the stairs, nearly falling off around the bends, he makes it to the top and finishes his sprint as he makes it to the bed.

He almost couldn’t help but pick you up and start swinging you around in his arms, but he knew you needed rest and a lot of it. Trips like these with Link always took it out of you and he knew it. Very gently he picked you up in his arms, removing your outer layer of clothes to leave you in a pair of boxers, he headed towards the reservoir. Thank the Goddess you were a deep sleeper, he had no intentions of waking you as he was getting into the lake. Making his way into the water, he turned onto his back with you on his stomach, almost curled up on his abdomen he smiled. He always loved these moments, the world was calm for the two of you, nothing else mattered, it was just you two in a lake with nothing to bother you.

It was nearly dark when you woke up, gently lifting your head, the surroundings set in rather quickly. You were no longer in the bed you fell asleep in, instead, you laid on your lover's chest, in the middle of the reservoir, at dusk.

“Good morning my darling,” he said in a quiet but excited tone, he could only hold back so much joy that you were awake.

“Good morning, well, it’s evening isn’t it” you giggled lightly at the end of your statement, happy to be where you were.

“I’m happy you’re back” Sidon spoke calmly, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek.

“I’m happy to be back, and in the one place I favor most of all, with you” Pushing back into his palm you smiled, locking eyes with the prince.

“What shall we do now that you’re awake? We could keep floating out here, go lay in your bed, watch the night sky, explore the mountains, what do you wish to do?” Sidon rattled off the first things he could think of for you both to do now that you were revitalized after your long journey.

“I think I have a better plan my prince, let’s get back to land first” There was a glint in your eyes as you said it, he couldn’t figure out what you meant by it but agreed nonetheless and started using his feet to kick you both back to the dam.

Standing on solid ground you stretch your limbs out, a few creaks here, a crack there, and a happy sigh leaves your lips. Coming up behind you Sidon wraps his arms around your shoulders, bringing you closer to him.

“So what did you have in mind my dear?” He whispered, the moment was peaceful and he dared not break it.

“How about we spend some quality time together, on my bed, for a few hours, and possibly have some fun while we’re at it?” There was that glint in your eyes, once again he couldn’t quite figure it out, but with the way your tone relayed its sultry message, he came to understand very quickly.

“I think that’s a lovely idea, but I do have a question,” you hummed, urging him to continue, “who’s going to be on top?”

“I’ve been gone far too long, and I want to please you my prince, allow me to do so.” Turning around to face him you started running a hand up his chest, leaving it near his pecs as he thought over his response.

“Then be my guest” Sidon replied huskily as he unwrapped his arms from you and headed towards your bed. Once in your small room, the boxers you had left yourself in were thrown to the side, next to everything you stripped off before your slumber. Sidon laid himself back on the bed, it was just big enough to where he could stretch his legs out and they had a couple inches before the end of the mattress. Spreading his legs apart with a hand on either of his knees, you scoot between them.

“How rough do you want me to be?” A normal question you would ask before sex, always wanting to make sure you weren’t too rough on the Zora.

“As rough as you please,” the look he gave you said more than his words did, needing no further response you continued to move closer to his crotch. Beginning to push onto his sheath, two tips began to poke their way through. A groan leaves Sidon’s mouth as you continue to prod at his sheath, he’s not all too used to having someone else do it for him. Finally able to see half of his cocks, you begin to lightly tug on them as well, encouraging them to fully come out. With a little more pressure and jerking of the lengths, they are fully erect and out of their sheath. Sidon locked eyes as you began to kiss the tip of each cock, a small whimper escapes him when the kisses become sloppier and precum starts to leak from his slits. Now you have deep-throated one of his lengths before, and while you’ve tried both, it’s never been possible for you. That was going to change today. Taking one into your mouth, you start the usual routine.

Sucking on one while your hand slowly pumps the other, after about a minute or two, you switch dicks, using your saliva as a lube of sorts to make it easier to jack him off.

“Oh my Goddess, (y/n) please keep going, you feel so good.” All Sidon could do was beg you to keep going and moan out with how good you made him feel. Pulling off his cock, you began to jerk both lightly, then you pushed both tips to your lips. Sidon let out a gasp as you took the first few inches of both cocks into your mouth. “Please don’t hurt yourself dEAR-“ his words were cut off with a moan as you shoved another few inches into your mouth. His lengths were equal in size, but they were not small in any capacity, both were long and thick, so 5-6 inches deep into both you could feel the tears beginning to streak down your face.

Once you got comfortable with that bit in your mouth you started bobbing your head, pushing a little bit further each time you went down. Eventually, you managed to get both cocks to the back of your throat, feeling the tips smack into your throat was a shock, a painfully pleasant one. Sidon put a hand on your head as he tried to steady himself with how much pleasure he was receiving from you. Moans and grunts were all he could produce at this point, too overwhelmed to form words let alone a sentence. Slowly speeding up once you felt his hand grip

your (h/l) (h/c) locks, the moans he let out became louder and higher pitched, he was coming close to his peak, and that only spurred you on further.

Thankful for the distance you had from the domain now more than ever as his volume somehow only increased. His hand never actually pushed you down further or faster than you went, he knew you were providing more than enough pleasure for him that he dared not intervene. A few more bobs of your head and he came, shooting stream after stream of thick cum down your throat. A lovely thing about Zora, their sperm glows in the dark, a beautiful thing to see especially when it’s nighttime. As you pulled off his cocks, a small bit of his cum dribbled out of the corner of your mouth. Swallowing whatever was in your mouth still, you made eye contact, heaving right after and moving forward to kiss Sidon.

“Every time I taste you, you only get better my prince.” Your words made him moan into the kiss, only able to speak between the searing lip lock you were caught in. As you moved a hand to his face, the other was busy at his ass, finding his hole rather quickly before using some of his own cum as lube. Pushing a finger in he moaned into the kiss once more, before you pulled away to scoot back on the bed. Making yourself level with his hole you began to stick your tongue inside of it, licking and opening him gently with the wet muscle before coming back in with a finger and then two. Scissoring those gently before getting rougher and rougher in your motions, a third finger is added as the process repeats once more.

“How do you feel Sidon, how do I make you feel?” Asking for his praise he moans and manages to get a few words out.

“Amazing! No one else could ever make me feel the way you make me feel!” Finally getting what you want, you remove your fingers, pleased with how stretched he is. Using some of your own spit left on your hand, you lube up your cock before aligning it with his hole. Slowly pushing the tip in he grabs at the sheets, trying to go slowly even with the urge to shove your whole length into him. Inch by inch you work your dick into his tight hole, reaching your pelvis you stop and let him rest with your dick fully inside. Sidon taps your thigh giving you a “go ahead” before you start moving slowly. Pulling out to the tip you push back in slowly, once you set this slow steady pace Sidon takes a couple of minutes to get used to it before begging you to speed up.

“Please (y/n), go faster please, we both know I can take it.” His words just urge you to pull out and slam back in. A shrill moan is ripped from his lips as you start a brutal pace into him. He was right about one thing, he could take whatever you gave him. Continuing the pace you grab his thighs, attempting to just push them up so his legs are bent. You continue with his legs like that for a good while before you decide you want to be deeper into your lover. Grabbing the back of his thighs you push them to lay on his chest, the new angle allows you to shove yourself all the way into his hole.

“BY THE GODDESS YES!” Sidon screams at the top of his lungs, his prostate well abused by now as your tip continues to jackhammer away at it. At some point, he grabs his legs by himself and holds them to his chest to allow you to use your arms for whatever you please. A hand went to his throat while the other went to his cocks, lightly squeezing his throat and jacking him off at the same time. It took very little time with all this stimulation to cum for the second time that night, the luminescent liquid splattering his chest, yours as well, your hands, and some even made it to his face.

“Look at you all covered in your own cum, how beautiful it is to see you glowing from it.” A chuckle followed your statement as you continued your brutal pace into his asshole. Letting go of his cocks to let them rest after orgasm, your other hand went to support you by holding onto his thigh. It only took another dozen thrusts or so before you were pouring your cum into his ass, filling him up with more than just your dick. Pulling out you let yourself catch your breath as Sidon stared up at you, blissed out and the happiest he’s ever been. “How about one more hm?” He perked up at your words, confused by what you meant. Then it all clicked when he saw you pulling his thighs down and straddling his waist.

“Wait (y/n) I just came and so did you, shouldn’t we wait a minute?” He hurriedly spoke, trying to figure out your rush in movement.

“But the best pleasure comes from that.” The words you spoke were full of lust, and nothing but it as you started to slowly grab and jerk off his cocks. Rising up above them, you aligned both with your own hole, slowly pushing down. Now you were not stretched nearly as much as he was for your cock, so the process of sinking down took much longer. Managing to get both tips in, you sit there for a moment, letting you both adjust to the feeling, then half an inch further, a rest, half an inch, rest, an inch, rest. This continued until you were sitting on both cocks, both deep inside your ass, brushing your prostate just by sitting there. Slowly you pulled your hips up, pulling out until his cocks were halfway out of you, then falling back down onto them. Doing this again and again you tried to set a pace for yourself on his massive lengths.

Finally getting a steady pace you pull out until nothing but his tips are inside you, then slam back down. You both moan louder than ever and then you do it again, lift up, slam down. Continuing over and over again, until you are simply fucking yourself dumb on his cocks. You knew his orgasm was approaching quickly when he started to grasp at your thighs and thrust up slightly when you came down. With his help thrusting up, you started to feel that oh-so-familiar knot bundling up in your stomach. Keeping up the pace you set, it took not more than 10 minutes before you both came in sync. Your cum shot onto his chest and face while he shot into your ass, filling you so much that it began to leak out around his cocks.

You sat there for a good while, not wanting to move from the rather comfortable position. After roughly 15 minutes you slowly pulled his softened cocks out of you, cum dripped out of your stretched hole and he was covered in it. Moving to lay beside him, you collapsed once you weren’t directly over him, shimmying closer to his larger frame for warmth.

“Was that enough pleasure for you my prince?” You ask quietly, not able to raise your voice with how sore your throat is.

“That was more than pleasure my dear, that was ecstacy and nirvana.” He gazed down at you as he spoke each word was quieter than the last. Sleep was slowly becoming a need for both of you, but not wishing to sleep covered in layers of cum you stood up and walked to the lake.

“Are you going to come wash yourself or are you going to lay there covered in cum?” Turning around to face Sidon, he moved his head up to look at you, not even thinking twice before standing up very slowly and carefully, having orgasmed three times he was shaky. Grabbing your hand, you both stepped into the lake and started to wash yourselves. Moving closer to the Zora you started helping him wash off some of the sweat and semen from his chest and face. Once you were both clean, you’d stepped out of the lake and walked back to the bed. Sidon’s cocks had gone back into their sheath by now, but you just grabbed your boxers you haphazardly discarded earlier and slipped them on.

Sidon removed the cum and sweat-covered sheets on the bed before grabbing a fresh set for you both to sleep on. Laying down he opened his arms, awaiting you to climb into bed with him to sleep. Falling into his arms, you snuggled ever closer to his chest before closing your eyes.

“Goodnight my prince, I love you.”

“I love you as well my dear, sleep well.”

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