Game Of Thrones OneShots

*Ramsay Bolton x Reader (Request)

(Here you go @The_Lost_Girl_99 ! Hope I did it justice!!)

(You're one of the daughters to the Kennel master at Winterfell. You watch as Winterfell is passed from the Starks, to Theon, and finally to Ramsay Bolton, who takes an immense interest in you, but for what reason you don't know. Contains: strong language, some smut, apologies coz I'm super awks and have never written a drop of smut in my life😂 x)

Word count - 4265 (yikes that's long😅)

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As one of the Kennel masters daughters, you had grown up and lived in Winterfell your whole life. It was a cold and brutal environment; howling winds and heavy downpours that would churn the mud of the ground into bogs, but you wouldn't leave it for anything, because even thought the weather was brutal and the air was cold, it was home- and oh what a lovely home it was. The Starks has always treated you with kindness- with respect, even though it wasn't warranted. As the wardens of the North, they protected the North, and you had never felt safer.

But it wasn't like that now. The Starks had left, one by one, picked off. The castle was empty and ready for the taking. And it was only a matter of time.

They came at night. Four grappling hooks swung over the high stone walls. You had heard the distant clank whilst you lay awake. Swinging your legs over the side of your bed, you had crept towards the window and had held back a gasp of shock as you watched four large men creep up on the unsuspecting guard. Bound to your place in fear, you watched them knock the guard out, before heaving the heavy gates open where another thirty or so men can swarming in. You had ducked down behind the window and crawled back to your bed, hoping that perhaps they wouldn't find you, and that maybe the small army left with you would kill them all. You knew it was a fool's dream.

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For months now, Theon Greyjoy had tormented the members of Winterfell. Making your way slowly across the Courtyard on the way to the Kennels, your eyes unwillingly slid to the two small bodies hanging from the tower. Your gut heaved and you plucked your eyes away in haste, worried that if you stared any longer, you'd see the mangled bloody corpses every time you blinked.

Reaching the iron grill of the gate, you gave it a tug and it swung open, the squeal of the hinges loud and raw against your ears. Closing it firmly behind you, you began your walk down the narrow, dingy corridor, the bucket of meat in your hand like a dead weight.  You could hear the excited whimpering and whining of the hounds now, their paws scrabbling and the hay on concrete. Smiling to yourself, you hurried faster towards the first kennel.

Simply because you grew up here, you'd always been around dogs- specifically the hounds. You'd watched them grow from tiny puppies to the large dogs they were now. Totally ferocious to anyone but you. Even your sister Myranda couldn't get within 5 feet of them without the doors rattling and the snarling and snapping of teeth filling the air. It was simply a gift. The dogs had known you their whole life, and while they were trained to hunt and to kill, they would never touch you. It made you feel necessary, wanted, maybe even loved.

Spending five minutes with each hound, throwing the meat into their cages and softly stroking the tops of their heads once they finished, you reached the end of the hall. Picking up the now empty bucket, you walked swiftly to the end of cages before turning back and facing the hounds.
"Bye." you whispered lowly, before heading back up the narrow path and back into the courtyard. Except it wasn't how you had left it an hour ago.

The courtyard was in a fury, people hurling pitchforks and and shovels to each other. Another had managed to break into the armoury and was beginning to pass around swords and long-knives. When realisation kicked in, you hurled yourself across the courtyard and towards the stairs that lead to the parapet, desperate to see the oncoming army. Chest heaving as you reached the top, you threw yourself towards the walls, hands sliding across the rough stone, eyes searching the horizon.