Request: may I please request a reader x ramsay bolton where ramsay discovers the reader - aka the love of his life - is pregnant with his child? And some fluff, pretty please?<3
A/N - <3
Tagged: @squirrelacorngliterfarts
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“My lady, I don’t mean to pry”, your handmaiden gingerly asked, “But it’s been sometime since your last Red Flower...”. Your head snapped up from the letter you were writing as her words sank in, you hadn’t really considered it before she’d asked and now there was a tight knot forming in your stomach, “Fetch me the maester now”.
When Ramsay finally entered the grand hall of the Dreadfort for dinner, the face of an apologetic angel graced his features. He rapidly took his seat and your hand into his own, “My love, I’m ever so sorry for being late. I happened to run into...a bit of trouble”, his lips ghosted over your knuckles. You nodded your head gently and resumed to mushing the food around on your plate, even though you’d already started eating your plate was still full.
As the evening went on Ramsay noticed you weren’t eating, “Little bird what’s wrong?”. You clasped your hands in front of you, unable to meet Ramsay’s eyes of ice which you had somehow managed to melt. His fingers danced up, then down your arm comfortingly, “Little one, I’m asking you a question”, he repeated in a sing-song tone although his tone had more force to it this time.
“Please don’t be mad with me”, you forced out, your throat suddenly drier than the meat you were eating. Surprisingly Ramsay was quiet as he waited patiently and Ramsay being quiet was never a good thing.
“It’s...It’s been sometime since my l-last r-red flower”, even though your voice was merely a whisper, it sounded loud enough that everyone in the mess hall could here. The Bastard Bolton wasn’t stupid, he knew what this meant but he decide to be coy so he could hear the words from your mouth, “And?”, he encouraged, still stroking your arm. You shakily breathed in, then out, “I’m pregnant”. You kept your eyes trained on the table, now that the truth was out you were sure that Ramsay’s wrath would soon be upon you.
Instead his arms glided from your arm to your jaw which he delicately grabbed and tilted so you were looking at him.
You couldn’t work out what his expression meant as his eyes examined every inch of your face. When Ramsay finally spoke it was with precision, “And why, pray tell, would I be angry with you for carrying my child?”. You eyebrows raised in surprise, a hint of a smile pulled on the corner of your lips, “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to have a child...with me”.
Ramsay leaned in close to you, he pressed a kiss to your lips and affectionately rubbed your nose with his own.
“Of course I want a child with you, you’re a wonderful choice to carry on my bloodline”, he kissed you again before withdrawing from you fully, “I can’t wait till these halls are running wild with our little ones”. He picked up a mug of ale, rising from his seat he took your hand into his own, “Attention everyone! Tonight we celebrate, for my wife--”, Ramsay raised your hand, “The beautiful, wonderful, Lady (Y/N) is carrying my child!”.
The room was filled with chants of praise and celebration, “Long live the Boltons!”.
Request: can I have a Ramsay x reader where reader is Jon's half-sisterand she saves Ramsay in the battle of the bastards, even though she only stayed in the shadows of winter fell but for some odd reason she fell for him. +maybe a little fluff at the end???
A/N - <3
Ramsay cursed his former wife, if she hadn’t of brought reinforcements, Jon would be dead now. Angrily he threw the sword he was carrying to the ground as he retreated further into Winterfell. “Close those gates and if you let anyone in, you’ll suffer a punishment worse than death”, he hissed at the remaining Bolton men, they all nodded showing they’d acknowledged their lord and his command.
Roose’s bastard paced around, hurriedly trying to force his brain to conceive a wicked plan which would save the day and ultimately his life; but he came up short and his frustrations became apparent as he kicked the sword he had dropped.
You watched him from behind a door feeling nothing but sorrow for the lord and his impending doom. You knew you shouldn’t help him. You were so close to seeing Jon again and your heart leapt out of joy at that fact, but the feeling was quickly swept away when you observed Ramsay. The Bolton who’d ruled Winterfell for the past few months had been nothing but brutal, cruel and downright vile to the people of the North, although he’d never displayed that side of him to you. Sure you’d heard the rumours about what he was like behind closed doors, you’d even seen the results of his work on Theon Greyjoy,but even that wasn’t enough to dissuade your heart from helping him.
“My lord”, you called out softly nudging the door open more revealing yourself, “If you want to escape, I know a way”.
Ramsay was instantly on his guard, reaching behind his back to place his hand over the dagger hidden there, “Who are you?”, he spat in response, his eyes narrowed. You urged him with a gesture of your hand as the sounds of fighting got closer, “My lord that isn’t important now, you need to come with me”. Ramsay quickly weighed the options out in his head; die to the attacking army or take a risk with this woman? Deciding the latter to be the best option, his feet were quickly put into motion, yet his hand still lingered by the concealed dagger.
“It’s this way Lord Bolton, we best be quick before Jon gets here--”, you were silenced by being slammed into the corridor, Ramsay held you there with one hand while the other clutched the dagger.
“Who are you and who sent you? Speak quick my patience is wearing thin”, Ramsay hissed, tired displeasure evident on his features. You panicked raising your hands up to show you were unarmed, “My lord I’ve lived here for many years,I was raised here! I wasn’t sent by anyone! I just want to help you. I know this castle like the back of my hand”. He didn’t seem convinced but he couldn’t argue back for loud shouting could be heard nearby. Ramsay sighed out of annoyance, he curtly nodded and released you, “Lead the way but just know I will be keeping an eye on you”, he lifted the dagger and tapped near his own eye, giving you a silent threat.
Gulping, you smiled weakly, “Yes my lord, please follow me”.
A short walk later with many twists, turns and questions from Ramsay, (which you answered happily), and if it weren’t for the dastardly circumstances, he would’ve liked to of talked to you more. He was blown away by your loyalty to House Bolton over House Stark. Ramsay had learned that you had such a strong hatred for the Starks due to the way they had treated you and Jon while growing up.
“Now that’s something I’d never thought I’d see (Y/N) Snow”, Ramsay laughed, “A Stark betraying their own. What was the saying, ‘the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives’?”. “That’s only if you’re a true Stark my lord, a bastard means nothing to the pack”, you bitterly answered, stopping suddenly at a door.
You turned slightly and placed a finger to your lips, urging the Bastard Bolton to be silent. He complied. You pushed until the door was ajar, checking the area was clear you then ventured out to where you had already prepared a horse, satchel and furs for the lord. “Go now Ramsay before they catch up, I’ll distract Jon for as long as I can”. The last Bolton didn’t hesitate, he hopped up onto the horse and asked softly, “Why help me?”. You were making your way back to where you’d just came from, without missing a beat you told him, “Revenge is best served when it’s unexpected. Ride swift Ramsay”.
He nodded, “I will return for you (Y/N)”, he promised, then he spurred the horse into motion.
Request: What about a Ramasy Bolton imagine where reader has a special nickname for him? Something stupid like Ramram or Rammy, maybe? Cyte and fluffy though, where he starts to get agitated by it? Please? (°^°♡♡
A/N - For @amazingcarrotsanddasterdlypears <3
He thought it was a one off, just something you’d soon get over so he wasn’t too bothered by it. You’d called him worse in your time together, he’d reason with himself, (although he did feel a little bit of an irking every time you’d tease him).
It was when you were walking together around the Dreadfort grounds, your arms linked through his much bigger, stronger one. Ramsay kept one hand on your arm at all times in an act of possessiveness, he subconsciously tightened his grip when the eye’s of passerby's would linger on you. You didn’t mind, you thought it was funny.
“Something wrong...Rammy?”.
Ramsay’s jaw clenched as soon as the nickname left your lips. He could already feel the stares of the surrounding populace smirking, suppressing their laughs. Ramsay loved you dearly but he couldn’t have you demeaning his authority like that.
“What have I told you about that?”, he snapped viciously dropping your arm, the air became cold and it wasn’t because of the North’s biting winds. You looked up at him as his blue eyes stared daggers back down at you, “I shouldn’t call you that”, you fluttered your eyelashes and put on your best puppy eyes, you even added “My Lord”, as an extra suck up. It was working as you saw his eyes soften although the rest of him stayed intimidating. “Exactly, which is why if you keep using it I will have to punish you”, Ramsay announced incredibly loud, making sure everyone heard. It seemed to do the trick as the surrounding people went back to their daily tasks.
You quickly reached out for his arm, rushing back to his side again. Ramsay let you do it though, quickly he restarted his walk around the Dreadfort again.
As you were walking you waited until Ramsay stopped to inspect a market stall; you started to lean up to his ear, mischief written across your features, “I’ll await my punishment in our bedroom, Rammy”.
Request: Hello. Can you write a cute strory about Ramsay and girl who work as handmaiden and who fall in love with Ramsay, but he don't love her, because she isn't so pretty like other women in Dreadfort and he sometimes tease her. Thank you :)
Warnings: Angsty, mentions of nudity, implications of sex and bullying (i guess???)
A/N - Wasn’t quite sure how to do this but I hope it’s okay <3
You weren’t sure why you were being summoned to Lord Ramsay Bolton’s chamber this late at night, although you had a perfectly good idea. A foreboding sadness blossomed in the pit of your stomach upon reaching his bedroom door, shakily you raised a fist and knocked as gently as you could.
“Come in!”, his loud voice was clear through the thick oak doors of the Dreadfort. With a swift movement, you opened the door just enough to slip into the room, you assessed the scene before you as you pushed the door closed. Ramsay was sitting topless on his bed, Myranda splayed naked across his laps. Her flaming red hair trickled down her body gracefully as she wrapped her arms around Ramsay’s neck and placed her face into the crook of his neck, all with a cruel smile on her lips.
Swallowing your pride, you bowed low, “Good evening my lord, my lady”, your eyes stayed trained on the floor.
“Do you know why I’ve summoned you here? Look at me when I’m talking to you”, he asked, a sadistic smile on his face. You shook your head and answered with a polite “No”. Ramsay’s smile only broadened as he gently tugged on Myranda’s hair, she lifted her head and Ramsay’s lips immediately attacked hers. You felt a pang of pain in your heart, Ramsay briefly opened his cold, blue eyes to make sure you were watching and when he was satisfied you’d seen enough, he broke off the kiss.
“You know why you’re here (Y/N)”, Ramsay stated, coyly playing with a strand of Myranda’s hair, “You’re here to be reminded that you’re nothing, what are you?”.
Automatically the words from the past encounters began to echo around your head until they flowed freely from your mouth, “I’m nothing Lord Bolton, I’m but yours to do with as you please. I will never be as beautiful as Myranda and...”, even though you’d done it before you could still feel tears stinging your eyes as Ramsay watched heinously, “And?”, he prompted in a demanding tone.
Taking a large gulp, you buried your pride and continued, “And my heart is at your...disposal”.
The joy Ramsay felt was like no other, his grip on Myranda’s thigh tightened and she squeaked with delight. It was no secret that Ramsay Bolton knew your true feelings for him, but what was unknown to both you and Myranda was how deeply it affected him; you’d bend to his will effortlessly and as he was quickly growing bored of Myranda, you were the new method of getting excited.
Suddenly Ramsay stood up and threw Myranda onto the bed, she giggled in delight. You started to turn away only to stop when Ramsay sharply instructed, “You are to stand and watch to remind you of your place”, he maintained eye contact with you as he undid his breeches. “Yes my lord”, you whispered drily, trying to suppress a sniffle.
There was no greater pleasure for Ramsay, and as he began to touch Myranda he looked over to you, his little maid.
Request: Hey!!! I was wondering if you could do a Ramsay x reader where the reader is sick and he takes care of her because when they are together he is really sweet whit her . Thanks :)
A/N - <3
“I said I wanted chicken and vegetable soup not just vegetable!”, Ramsay sneered in distaste as he observed the bowl of soup on tray the chef held. The nervous cook quickly stammered, “I’m sorry m-my lord I’ll go and g-get another right a-away!”, but before the cook could run, the Bastard Bolton placed a hand on his arm, “No. It will have to do, but don’t make this mistake. You won’t get off lightly next time”, he warned, pulling the tray from the cook’s grasp and marching off in a huff.
In any other circumstance he would’ve called his guards and had the chef dragged away for such insolence, but you needed him right now and he wanted to fulfil that need.
Ramsay knocked on the door to alert you of his arrival and then he entered the room swiftly, “My love I have returned”, he smiled at you despite the upset he felt looking at your weakened form. You tried to smile back, as you opened your mouth to speak you started to cough violently again. Ramsay was instantly at your side, he placed the soup on the bedside table and reached for the glass of water. Helping you to sit up, he tipped the glass slowly, allowing you to take small sips.
Once the coughing had subsided you tried again to smile, this time with more success, “Thank you”. Ramsay’s warm hand smoothed your tangled hair that lay matted on the top of your head, “You don’t need to thank me, you still have a temperature”, he sighed, “The maester isn’t working hard enough”. You shook your head with as much effort as you could muster, “No he’s doing all he can, I promise you I’m getting better my lord”.
His heart melted but it instantly felt bitter once he remembered the soup was wrong. “You’ll have to excuse the soup, apparently my cooks can’t follow the simplest of orders”. You giggled, it hurt your throat but it was the first genuine thing to make you laugh. “Ramsay I’m sure it’ll be fine”, you insisted ushering him to bring the soup to you.
Sitting on the bed next to you, Ramsay cradled the bowl, “Open wide”, he instructed with a goofy grin on his face. “I can feed myself you know”. Ramsay scooped some soup into the spoon and brought it towards your face, “I’m aware”, came his simple reply.
You didn’t bother arguing, you were tired and Ramsay was stubborn.
Do you think you can do a moder!au HC? For Ramsay Bolton? Or maybe Tormund? (I felt more comfortable writing for Ramsay I hope that’s okay)
Possessiveness, he wants to know where you are, what you’re doing and most importantly who you’re with. He’s always texting you just to make sure you’re okay, he wants to make sure you’re okay.
Ramsay enjoys buying clothes for you, he likes to see you in everything; from lacy underwear to the most expensive dresses, he thinks you look beautiful either way.
He likes to take photos, all kinds of them. From you purposefully posing, to you caught off guard in the natural world. He has an extensive portfolio (that you know about) which he often looks at when he misses you (which you don’t know about).
Ramsay takes you out nearly every Friday to a new diner, each more expensive than the last, after all “A Queen deserves a King to spoil her”.
Buying you expensive gifts randomly, like a new car or a new laptop.
He doesn’t take too kindly to any other kind of competition though, whether it be male or female. He gets jealous extremely easy, one time he tried to start a fight with a guy who called you pretty at the bar.
He bought a house with a woodlands as it’s garden, he uses it to take you on walks with his hounds every morning.
Ramsay wants to start a family some day, even though you know he wouldn’t admit it. You see the way his eyes light up at the mention of him being a father.
Request: i have to say i'm so happy to see a notification from u pop up again!! could u please write something for either ramsay or jon where the reader is pregnant or has just given birth to their child? much love❤️❤️
A/N - c:! I’m happy to be writing again even if it’s only a little bit! <3
The goblet clattered loudly to the floor as you doubled over, clutching wildly at your enlarged stomach, “This isn’t happening”, you screeched loudly as a wave of pain squeezed its way through your body. The door flew open and your handmaiden flew in, “My lady, is everything okay?”. You snapped your head over to her and a scream erupted out of your mouth, “Fetch the maester, the baby is coming! Where’s Ramsay?”, you demanded, grabbing at the table for support.
She stammered, “H-He’s at l-least a day’s r-ride away”. “Well send a raven and tell him to get home immediately, and get the fucking maester!”, you roared.
Ramsay practically leapt off his horse once he was securely in the grounds of Winterfell, he then raced his way over to the master bedroom where he knew you would be. By the time he reached the room he was out of breath, but still he pushed his way into the room sending the door crashing into the wall.
You jumped, startled from the noise. The nearby guards drew their weapons but soon sheathed them once they saw it was only their lord.
Ramsay stumbled over to the bed and collapsed at your side, “My love--”, he started but you cut him off with a tired pout, “You said you’d be home in time Ramsay”. He smiled sadly at you, “I know I’m sorry my love I promise I’ll make it up to you, where is he?”. You started to laugh, “She”, Ramsay’s face held shock, “Where is she?”. You gestured at the bundle of cloth in your arms at which Ramsay took gingerly.
Peeling back the layer of cloth, it revealed the most precious thing Ramsay had ever laid eyes on.
“She...She is beautiful, just like you (Y/N)”, he said breathless again, although this time for an entirely different reason, “I promise to you my darling angel, I will protect you and your mother at all costs, I love you”. Ramsay slowly rose and then laid by your side, cradling the baby close to his chest, “Leave us”, he commanded the guards with a much gentler tone than usual, “My two loves”, he smiled kissing the baby’s forehead and then yours.
Request: Hello! How you doing? Hope having a good day! If there's not so much problem, can I request a modern AU Ramsay Bolton x Reader were the reader is friends with ramsay (the psyco who nobody wants to be close) and he really likes her (reader) and he really gets mad when guys flirt with her so he sticks with reader wherever she goes which really annoys her but in the end is all cute and fluffy? Thank you, darling! (sorry for my english :( it's not my mother language)
A/N - This takes place in a Modern Alternate Universe, enjoy <3 (I’m thinking about doing a part two for this so if it’s something you’d like to see, please let me know!)
The small, coastal town you lived in was quiet. Nothing eventful ever happened, everyone knew everyone, that was until a new family moved into the more remote area of your village. Nobody knew anything about this family only their last name, the Boltons.
The Boltons were even more silent than the town in which you lived. There was a constant flood of whispers about this family, about why they moved and why they kept to themselves and they all seemed to contain one common theme; their son. No one really knew his name, only what he looked like. The descriptions from various witnesses described him as hauntingly handsome- tall, lean, ghostly pale with cold, piercing eyes and a mass of brown hair with scruff to accompany the disconcerting calm express on his face.
Every so often someone would see the family in the local supermarket, or the local library and there’d be more rumours floating around about them. ‘There’s something sinister about that family’, your grandmother’s words echoed in your ears, ‘Stay away from them and stay away from that boy’.
At one time you planned to heed her advice, but now here you were, walking over to the young man all because of a stupid dare from your friends.
Before the dare was issued to you, you were enjoying a drink with your pals in the local pub where all the fun seemed to happen and that was when he walked in. It was your first time seeing one of the Boltons and boy the descriptions of him did not give him enough justice. He was drop dead gorgeous and if he wasn’t at the centre of the rumours, you’d of jumped on him.
“Hey (Y/N)?”, one of your friends smirked as they took a gulp of their drink, “Why don’t you go and say hi to him? He looks lonely, he could do with some company”. You shook your head and sneered, “I’m good”. “C’mon, the next rounds will be on me if you go and sit with him for at least twenty minutes”. The pleads of your other friends made you give in to the peer pressure, “Fine, twenty minutes no more”.
Picking up your drink, you crossed the short distance over to where he was sat. The young Bolton had chosen to sit alone in a booth, a glass of liquid in front of him, his blue eyes were focused on it. You noticed he sat slouched, his shoulders hunched, he looked quiet terrifying. His lean fingers danced up the glass as he wiped the drops of condensation. You could feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach, whether it was from the alcohol you’d consumed or from something else, you didn’t know. As you drew closer to the Bolton, he looked up and his gaze bore into yours.
You had to force your legs to move otherwise you’d of turned and bolted in the opposite direction. Choking back the feeling of the butterflies, you offered him your best smile. It wasn’t returned.
“Hey there”, you grinned down at him as you stood by his booth, “Is this seat taken?”.
The man shook his head briefly. You dropped down across from him, placing the drink on the table which you brought with you. He returned to his previous position with a quick glare towards you, then he focused his attention back on the glass. It became obvious quite quickly that he wasn’t going to make the conversation, you glanced back to your friends who were giving you thumbs up, with an inaudible sigh you took the situation into your own hands, “So I saw you sat over here alone and then I realised you’re new to these parts right?”.
Again he didn’t answer.
“My name’s (Y/N) (Y/L/N), what’s yours?”, you smiled waiting for a response which you presumed you weren’t going to get. You sipped on your drink and watched him. “Ramsay Bolton”, he finally answered after a lifetime of silence, giving you a small smile back and before you knew it, the time had flown by.
//// Flash forward a few months \\\\\\
You were just walking out of the supermarket, your hands full with two heavy bags, when someone shouted loudly in your ear, “BOO!”.
A loud screech erupted out of your mouth and you turned to shout at the culprit, the bags of grocery shopping lay scattered on the floor, “What is-- Ramsay? Why’d you do that for?”, you frowned as he laughed. His eyes crinkled in amusement, you bent down and Ramsay followed suit to help, “Because it was funny, did you see your reaction? Priceless”, he snickered as he helped you to repack the bags.
You glared at him, “It wasn’t, you could’ve given me a heart attack”, snatching the bags from him, you stormed onwards.
To say that Ramsay had been following you would be an understatement; it seemed that these days he was everywhere. You thought that today you’d escaped him but the display of his latest shenanigan proved otherwise. As you walked, you could feel the burning stares of the village inhabitants, each giving you their own disapproving stare as Ramsay followed behind you like a wounded puppy.
“But I didn’t though!”, he toothily grinned at you, his expression just forced you to smile softly back at him. “That’s not the point Ramsay”, you argued back as you passed an elderly couple who practically crossed the road to avoid you.
Ramsay plucked a bag from your left hand despite your protests, “Let me, I insist”. You walked with him back to your house in silence, you kept your eyes to the floor.
Ever since that one evening you’d spent with Ramsay Bolton as a dare, he’d become stuck to you like glue. It started off slowly, minor coincidences at the pub every weekend, then it escalated to him shopping in the same supermarket, to being in the library at the same time and eventually he was walking you home every night. Your phone would constantly blow up each hour with a text from him and even though you’d suggested that you needed to spend some time by yourself, Ramsay had ignored your request.
“Did you know him?”, Ramsay’s voice cut through the air bitterly, pulling you out of your daze, “Did I know who?”. Ramsay looked back over his shoulder, his joyful smile was now replaced by a dark scowl, “That guy, right there”. You looked back at the guy whom Ramsay was referring to and looked back at him and in confusion, “Him? I don’t know him”.
Ramsay towered over you, you didn’t find him intimidating anymore, only at the times when he acted in this way.
Ramsay narrowed his eyes at you, “Are you sure?”. You nodded your head, “100%, now come on this stuff is going to melt if we don’t get it home soon”. The rest of the walk was silent, but you could tell that Ramsay was brooding and when Ramsay started brooding, nothing good could come of it.
