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kee-writestrashh · 6 years

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Guns for Hire

Ramsay Bolton x Reader

Ao3

Summary: You are the wife to the Heir of the Red Kings, Ramsay Bolton. living the undercover life of a mob wife has its perks, and you love your husband. But you find out something that seems to unfold a series of unwanted events...

Chapter 5: Bad Moon Rising

The urge to vomit is what woke you up. Well that, and the sounds of scraping and cursing.

You opened your eyes. It was still partially dark. Through bleary eyes you saw the clock illuminating that it was just past six thirty.

You groaned, rolling over. The bed was empty next to you. You sat up. As you did, hot stomach acid crept up your throat.

You quickly got out of bed, running for the bathroom.

After fifteen minutes of leaning against the sink, waiting on nothing as it turned out, you took a deep breath, pulled on one of your favorite silk robes, and left your room.

Ramsay was hastily packing bags full of guns and other weapons.

You scrunched your brows, "What are you doing?" You asked through a dry mouth, rubbing your eyes.

Ramsay spun around to look at you, "What are you doing?"

"I asked you first." You replied in a crabby tone.

He gestured towards the television screen. It was paused on a new headline and picture.

Friday Night Mayhem Downtown. The headline read. The picture was a blurred still of a surveillance video showing four men in masks holding large black bags. The man closest to the front caught your eye. He had his sleeves rolled up and many tattoos. Very similar to your husband's. But the Flayed Man on an X was on the wrong arm.

You knitted your brows, turning back to Ramsay.

"I don't understand. Who's this?"

Ramsay hit play and the news reporter came on the screen.

'Last night around one in the morning a group of men were reported to be robbing a bank after silent alarms went off. As you can see from the still the men were wearing masks, but authorities are hopeful that the tattoos on the one suspect's arms can be enough to help identify the group. Tune in at noon for further information as we go through the morning.'

"Rams, that isn't you. What's going on?" You said, tearing your eyes from the screen.

"You're right. It wasn't me. But that bank is my bank. Those tattoos were placed and caught on camera on purpose." He hissed, in anger, holding his arms up in comparison.

There came a knock on the backdoor. It made you jump and sent Kira and Willow into a barking fit. Ramsay snapped his fingers at the dogs and walked to the back door. He glanced out the blind and removed all the locks. He pulled the door open and Damon stepped inside.

"Yo, what in the actual fuck?" Damon said, grasping Ramsay's hand.

"Are the boys set up?" Was Ramsay's reply.

"Yessir."

"Alright. Once we get all this shit loaded, give the word."

You watched as Ramsay and Damon took all the bulking bags out of the house, biting on your knuckle in anxiety.

Ramsay returned a few minutes later and closed the back door with a sharp snap and irritated sigh.

"Come here." He said, motioning you towards him.

You dropped your hand and slowly walked over to him and he pulled you into a tight hug, running his hands down your back.

"How do you feel?" He whispered, kissing the crown of your head.

"Horrible, honestly." You replied quietly wrapping your arms around him.

"Would my face between your legs make you feel better?" He breathed, scooping you up.

You let a small grin form and closed your eyes, "mhmm. Please."

"Good. You didn't really have a choice in the matter anyways." He replied, carrying you to the bed and dropping you gently on the mattress.

He slid the robe from your bare shoulders and ghosted his lips over your skin. You closed your eyes with a small moan, pushing your head back into the bed.

He nipped at the soft skin of your inner thigh, making you giggle and pick your head up to look down at him.

"Hm?" He hummed, bringing his eyes up to yours.

"You didn't shave. It tickles." You said, suppressing another giggle.

He smirked, rubbing the stubble of his jaw against your leg, "should I?"

You dropped your head back into the bed, "mmm, no. I like it."

"Whatever my queen likes." He murmured, kissing along your folds.

The air caught in your throat at the sensation, causing you to arch your back. You bit your lip, letting a small noise escape you, as you tangled your hands into the blanket under you.

You relaxed your body as he slid his tongue slowly into you. He made firm, sensual movements with his tongue against you and when he bit down on your sensitive spot it made you gasp and give a small jerk. The pain stopped just as suddenly as he darted his tongue over the spot.

"Come here." You whispered, grabbing at his shoulder.

He gave a small growl, shrugging your hand off. The hum of his lips making you shiver, as he picked up the pace with his tongue.

Your stomach twisted up and fluttered as he continued to fuck you with his tongue. His stubble adding to the sensation, as he gripped your thighs tightly under his rough hands. Your breathing came in gasping bursts as you moaned and muttered incoherent words.

You felt a slight disappointment form when he pulled away from you. His eyes shinning brightly, his lips wet, his chest rising and falling, as he slid a finger in you.

You gave a shuddering gasp, more nonsense words falling from your lips as you shifted and bucked your hips into his hand. You felt his piercing gaze on you as you fought to keep your eyes open.

He slid another finger inside you, and curled them when he had pushed them as far as they would go. You ground into his hand, unable to keep any noises from escaping you now.

"Baby. Fuck me." You managed to get out as your breath caught and your chest tightened.

He pulled his fingers from you, licking them clean as he placed his other hand on your hip and pulled, indicating you to roll over.

You rolled over as he hastily kicked out of his shorts and clambered onto the bed. He ran his finger tips over the small of your back with one hand, gripping your hip with the other as he positioned himself behind you.

He teased at your entrance with his dick, making the desire build in you as you pushed yourself back into him.

He let out a small noise as you felt him enter you, gripping your hips harder than he probably meant to at the feeling. You let out a small sigh, grinding against his hips and savoring the sensation.

He dug his fingers into your hips as he buried himself into you, without relent.

You couldn't fight the tingling sensation as the pressure built in you with each thrust and small noise your husband made.

Ramsay leaned into you, trailing his hand under you to sweep over your extra sensitive skin with his thumb, rubbing light circles.

You drew in a sharp breath, pushing back into him as hard as you could as your high hit you like a blow to the chest. You buried your face into the blankets and cried out in pleasure, feeling Ramsay grip your hips with both hands in a death grip, drawing ragged shallow breaths, before falling into you as he spent himself inside you with a deep, throaty primal growl.

You both let out deep sighs at the same time, making you give a small laugh.

He gave you a small slap on the ass before pulling away from you, and falling onto the bed.

You relaxed your body and laied on your stomach, realizing this would be impossible soon. You peered at your husband, who also laid on his front.

You scrunched up your nose, "You're making my blanket gross."

"Shhh. I'll buy you a new one." He murmured, giving you a smirk, before pushing himself up. "Where are we having lunch?"

You ran your eyes over his naked body, chewing your lip, taking him in. His tattoos, scars, muscles. You then brought your eyes up to his face and gave a shrug, pushing yourself up, watching him as he cleaned himself and wiped his mouth on a discarded shirt.

"Don't know. No where overly fancy, I really just don't feel up to it." You said, thinking.

"Well, think on it and get back with me when I get back." He replied tossing you a different shirt, pulling shorts and a clean t-shirt on.

"Where are you going?" You asked, taken aback.

"Taking the girls on a run. Like I do, every morning. I'm just late, this morning." He replied, slipping his shoes on and glancing at the clock. He stood up, grabbing his cigarettes and lighter from the top of the dresser before leaving you alone.

You simply nodded. He was always awake before you it seemed, so you weren't really sure what he did for the two plus hours he was usually up before you.

You walked to the bathroom, turning the shower on and waiting on it to warm up, taking the opportunity to text your mother.

×××

Ramsay opened your door and helped you out, pulling his sunglasses off and tossing them into your seat.

You looked around. You had settled on this new little bar and grill. It was in a beautiful location on the river front. You didn't come to this side of the city much. It was a part of your turf, but you had no need to come out this far. However, this little eatery was receiving many positive reviews and you were glad for an excuse to come. Not that you really needed one, but still.

Ramsay held the door open for you and you immediately saw your parents. Excitement coursed through you as you rushed them and embraced them both.

Ramsay offered a polite nod, shaking your father's hand and enduring your mother's hug. He caught the eye of a waiter who hurried to your party and sat you immediately.

Ramsay rested his hand on your knee and did his best to seem interested in what your parents talked about, while keeping his eyes open for anything out of place, on edge at having his back to the entrance.

Naturally, your parents had no idea the kind of life you secretly led, and had no idea that Ramsay was a gang member.

"So, what do you have to tell us?" Your mother asked, placing her napkin in her lap, adjusting her bangles.

"I'm pregnant!" You practically shouted, the tears welling.

"Oh my god!" Your mother gasped, excitement gripping her like Christmas had come early.

Without words your father expressed the same excitement. They had been both been dying for a grandchild, and badgered you about it constantly.

"How far?" Your mother asked, reaching for your hand across the table.

"The doctor said eight or nine weeks. We are having an ultrasound done on the third." You breathed, cheeks flushing.

"Are you excited for fatherhood, Ramsay?" Your father asked, looking over at him as he downed his scotch.

He set the glass down and offered a sickly, sweet smile that you weren't sure was genuine or not. "Yes sir. Very much so."

Outside of the news report this morning your day was shaping up to be wonderful. It was so nice to see your parents. You didn't get to see them much. They travelled a lot now that all the children were out of the house. Your father told you all about his new building projects, to which you coaxed Ramsay into bragging about his Nova. Your mother regaled you in hometown gossip and how your siblings were doing.

You were in the middle of laughing at one of your father's jokes when everything changed.

Someone slammed the same picture from the news onto the table between you and Ramsay.

"Ramsay Bolton." Came a vaguely familiar voice.

Ramsay gave you a quick side long glance before rising slowly from his seat. You took in the looks of horror on your parents faces before turning to see Detective Greyjoy and three officers.

"Can I help you?" Ramsay asked in false politeness.

"You're under arrest." Greyjoy spoke, as an officer pulled Ramsay's arms behind his back, slamming him roughly against the table.

You heard your mother gasp and the click of the handcuffs as you quickly rose from your chair, glancing at the officer telling Ramsay his rights.

"On what charges?" You demanded, stepping into the detective.

"Bank robbery." Greyjoy said, nodding at the picture.

You gave a shrill laugh, picking up the picture and tearing it in half.

"This? This is your probable cause to arrest my husband? Maybe You could take him in for questioning, but to arrest him? You are much mistaken, sir. These tattoos are not even my husbands." You hissed dropping the two halves of the picture.

Greyjoy looked taken aback. Ramsay remained unconcerned and gave a shrug.

"She's right you know. I'd show you. But..." He said, shaking the chains on the cuffs loudly. "But feel free to take me in. You just better be sure you are one hundred percent. Don't threaten me with a good time and not deliver."

Greyjoy looked furious, running his eyes from you to your husband. He faltered. He wasn't sure what to do. He had fucked up. If he released Ramsay, Ramsay was likely to retaliate. But if Ramsay really wasn't involved... But he had no choice but to follow through now. The damage was done.

"What's the matter? Go behind your partner's back on this one? Like I said, take me down to the station. I'm sure they all miss my wonderful jokes. But I can prove it wasn't me, right here. Right now." Ramsay goaded.

"I'll take it from here." Greyjoy growled to the other cops, as he stooped down, snatching up the torn picture, examining it closely, glancing at Ramsay frowning deeply.

He gave the other officers a nod and they left. He then stepped into Ramsay, and you inched closer to your husband.

"I know who you are." Greyjoy whispered.

"You threw the first punch." Ramsay whispered back, leaning into the detective, so only you and he could hear.

A look of unease flashed across the man's face before he did his best to conceal himself.

You looked at your husband, "keys."

He pushed his hip out to you and you fished out the keys from his pocket.

"Come here, baby girl." He said gently.

You leaned into him and pressed your lips to his.

He pulled away from you slightly to kiss your temple and whisper in your ear, "I'll be home in a couple hours. Call Damon to pick me up." He pulled away from you with a wink, "oh momma I'm in fear for my life from the long arm of the law."

Greyjoy grabbed Ramsay's arm and lead him towards the exit. You clenched your jaw, watching them leave.

"The jig is up, the news is out, they finally found me!" Ramsay sang with an upbeat step and his usual smirk, eyeing Greyjoy.

"Shut up." The detective hissed, throwing the door open.

"Hang man is coming down from the gallows. Didn't ya know?" Ramsay laughed bitterly, as the cop shoved him through the doorway.

Now war was about to break out with the police department. What a stupid fucking man.

You turned back to your parents, who both sat there stunned.

"(Y/n), what's going on?" Your father asked, as you gripped the keys in your hands, seething in anger.

You heaved a sigh and sipped your tea. "Did you watch the news this morning?" You asked.

"No, we weren't up yet." Your mother said, watching you closely.

"Well, last night some guys tried to rob the bank Ramsay works at. He was framed. A man deliberately wore fake tattoos to mimic Ramsay's. But they did a poor job. I hate to cut lunch short, but now I have a police department to sue." You said, grabbing your purse, coat, and smoothing your dress out.

"Baby? Are you okay?" You father asked, raising from his seat.

"Hormones." You said, dropping cash on the table and leaving.

"(Y/n)!" Your mother called, running after you.

The wind was bitter and the clouds dark as you stepped outside. But a fire was burning in your chest, keeping the cold at bay.

Your mother grabbed your hand. You fell into her, heaving a dry sob. You weren't even sure how long you stood there like this. It was so nice to have your mother's arms around you again.

"Hush baby. It's okay. If Ramsay is innocent everything will be okay. You don't need to stress your body." You mother cooed, rubbing your back.

How you wanted to tell her the truth. To get it all off your chest. But you said nothing.

"Would you like us to come with you?" Your father asked, placing his hand on your shoulder.

You took a deep breath and shook your head. "No. It's okay, I've got this. I work tonight. Come by after your shopping and we can have a better time."

Your parents simply nodded, exchanging looks as you slammed the door to the Nova and rammed the key into the ignition.

At the stoplight you pulled out your phone and dialed Damon.

"yes ma'am?"

"The cops just picked up Ramsay. I thought we had eyes on that detective? You better get your shit together or I will make this city cower in fear. Be prepared. The grease is in the fire now." You said, then hung up.

Your mind was racing and before you knew it you were at the police station. You slammed the door and hurried up the step, throwing the building doors open.

"Where is he?!" You shouted, probably sounding like a crazy woman. But fuck them.

"Ma'am, can i help you?" A woman said at the front desk.

"Where is my husband? Where is that Greyjoy man? Somebody better take me to see someone who fucking matters!" You yelled, looking around at all the concerned looking people.

"Ma'am, calm down please and we can take you to see Chief Stark." A young officer said, timidly.

You followed him through the building to an office. You heard raised voices behind it.

"Come on Ned! Don't be thick. It was him. He's been behind all this shit. His father is Roose Bolton for crying out loud! Look at this fuck's wrap sheet! It's gotta be a mile long. Aggravated assault. Aggravated assault. Assault on a police officer. Possession of a controlled substance. And it keeps going. Just the same!"

"I understand that Greyjoy. But all of those charges are years old. He hasn't been charged with anything in almost three years. There is no evidence, you can't hold him. Damnit boy, the tattoos don't even match. He's got enemies, it's obviously a set up. Would he really rob his own bank?"

"Yes! Yes he would! He's a mad man."

You had enough and shoved past the officer and threw open the doors. There stood Greyjoy waving a stack of papers, his redheaded partner pinching the bridge of his nose, and the Chief of Police, hands on his desk as if he was rising from his chair.

They all turned to look at you.

"I want my husband released. Now. Or I will sue you for all this shit hole is worth." You hissed.

"Mrs. Bolton?" The man at the desk asked.

You nodded, eyes narrowed, and throwing daggers at Greyjoy.

"Son, take her to see him." The man said to the auburn haired detective.

"Are we..."

"Robb, just do what I said."

Robb gave a curt nod, "follow me please."

"She's in on it too." You heard Greyjoy mutter.

"Enough."

"Should of known you wouldn't go home." Ramsay said, glancing up at you, sliding his feet from the table, letting his chair fall back on all fours.

You scowled, "and what was I supposed to do?"

"Finish lunch." He glanced around, "What time is it?" He glanced down at his bare wrist.

You gave him a blank look. "I don't care what time it is and I'm not going anywhere until I have that cunt out of here."

Ramsay raised his brows at you and smirked. "I like pregnant you." He glanced at the two way mirror, "hey, what's a guy gotta do to get a smoke around here?"

You crossed your arms. You couldn't understand how he wasn't seething with anger. He was calm and wore that damn grin.

You paced back and forth, fuming, until the door opened again.

Ned Stark walked in. Ramsay stood and held out his hand. Ned took it firmly.

"Mr. Bolton. You must forgive my detective. Jumped the gun. Do you mind if I ask you a few quick questions?" Chief Ned said, looking between you and your husband.

"Already here, let's get to it." Ramsay said, indicating you to sit.

"Not until you fire that fucking detective." You said like ice.

"We are placing him on administrative leave." The chief said with a sigh.

You glanced at Ramsay who rocked on his heels, arms behind his back. Waiting.

"Let's not beat around the bush, Bolton. Who did it?" Ned said, holding his elbow in one hand and rubbing his beard with his other hand.

Ramsay shrugged, "I'm sure there are a number of folks. If I had a venn diagram of my friends and enemies, it would just be a circle."

"You've been keeping your nose clean." Ned stated.

"Nasty filth. Dirty world." Ramsay said sagely.

"Excuse me, but what's the point of this?" You cut in, feeling impatient.

Ramsay gave you a cold look, but you ignored him.

"The point, Mrs. Bolton, is that we are at war in the streets. My men being targeted. Your husband being framed. Maybe we can work together." Ned said, glancing at Ramsay.

You saw something uncertain pass over your husband's face. Whatever he had expected, it wasn't this.

"Don't know what your talkin' bout, Chief." Ramsay said, giving a quick glance at the two-way mirror again.

"Ramsay, no games. The amount of times I've closed the bars on you, you could almost be family." Ned said dryly.

"I was a kid. Didn't know what I was doing. I've grown up. Stable, white collar job. Fine ass wife. Father to be. I don't play the game anymore." Ramsay shrugged.

Ned gave a frustrated sigh, and opened the door. Ramsay let you pass him, but Ned held him back.

"I can help you get Dom's killer."

You turned to watch the gears turn in Ramsay's head.

"I don't need your help for that. Our blades are sharp." Ramsay whispered, grabbing your elbow and leading you down the hall to the entrance of the station.

Ramsay stopped at the front desk, "oh sweet little ol' Miss Mel."

"Been a long time, Ramsay." The old woman said, pushing a box towards Ramsay.

"Been keeping busy, have you met my wife?" Ramsay said, replacing his wallet and phone in his pockets, then tightening his watch on his wrist. "Baby doll, this woman makes the best snicker doodles. I'm one of her favorite bad guys."

You watched Ramsay go on with the old woman, as if he actually gave a shit. How was it possible to be so charming and down right murderous at the same time? He turned back to you, holding a slip of paper with a recipe on it. His smirk dropped as he looked up.

There stood Greyjoy, looking angry and harassed. Ramsay pointed at the man.

"December twenty ninth two thousand fourteen. Ten thirty. Parking lot. Assault on an officer with a deadly weapon. Knife to be more specific. Ask the Chief who came off worse."

You grabbed Ramsay's hand and pulled. "What are you playing at?" You hissed.

×××

Ramsay said nothing on the drive. But you weren't going home you realized.

You said nothing as the silence became more tense.

"Under the seat." He said, killing the motor outside a garage and holding his palm out to you.

You reached under the seat, cold metal meeting your finger tips. You placed the gun in Ramsay's hand.

"Baby, what are we doing?" You asked, as he climbed out of the car and opened your door.

"Keep your mouth shut." He snapped. You gave him an offended look. His face softened a bit, "Come on."

He practically kicked down the door, cocking the gun as a few men jumped up from their chairs in panic.

"Who the fuck?" He raged, turning the gun to each of his men.

"He got away from us. We lost him." A young man spoke up, cowering in fear.

"Lost him?" Ramsay mocked, anger shaking his speech. "That cunt walks in and ruins my lunch. Embarrassing my wife in front of her family and every one in that god damn place." Without warning he pulled the trigger.

The man screamed in pain, clutching his shoulder as he dropped to the floor.

"Shut him up!" Ramsay barked, clutching the grip as if itching to shoot the man again.

"Boss!" Damon called, throwing a side door open and clutching a stitch in his side.

"What?!" Ramsay yelled in annoyance.

Damon stood up and gave you a look before heaving a deep sigh.

"What Damon?" Ramsay asked threateningly.

"The bar. It's on fire."

"Well this day just keeps getting better and fucking better." Ramsay growled.

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kee-writestrashh · 6 years

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Further on up the Road

Song

words: 614

Summary: Death & Mercy

He stopped in front of the group, slightly breathless. “Where is he?”

Ben sighed and nodded at the warehouse door behind him.

Ramsay pushed the others aside, throwing the door open, stomach turning over slightly. The warehouse was mostly empty. A few crates here and there. And in the middle of the room, lay Damon. He looked like he was bleeding profusely if the liquid on the ground around him was any indicator. He stirred slightly as the door closed heavily behind Ramsay.

“Rams, that you?” Damon asked quietly trying to lift up his head.

“Yeah, Dame. It’s me.” Ramsay said slowly, shoes echoing loudly off the cold concrete floor. He knelt down beside Damon, looking at the bloody mess he was. His oldest friend, the only person he would have ever considered more than disposable and worthless. Now a broken and bloody mess. On his final hour. The only person who ever took the time to really understand Ramsay, and never try to change him.

“I been tryna wait on you.” Damon said, swallowing thickly through the blood.

“I know man. I know. I’m here now.” Ramsay said. Dropping to his knees completely.

“I’m already dead.” Damon whispered, looking up at Ramsay through glassy eyes.

Ramsay simply nodded, digging in his pocket and pulling out the handful of bullets. The bullets he carried on him at all times. Each one with the name of one of the Boys.

“Got on my dead man's suit and my smilin' skull ring. My lucky graveyard boots and song to sing. I got a song to sing, keep me out of the cold. And I'll meet you further on up the road.” Damon sang through harsh breathing, eyes watching Ramsay.

Ramsay sighed, pulling out his revolver, and emptying the chamber of all the bullets it had in it. He set one of the bullets from his pocket aside, pocketing the rest and sliding the one bullet in its chamber. He made an odd noise in the back of his throat, blinking a couple times. “Oh, man, this is like shooting my dog.”

“Long as I was your favorite dog.” Damon chuckled with a deep grimace, choking on his blood.

Ramsay gave a half smirk. “Always my favorite.” He placed his hand to Damon’s bloody cheek, pulling his head closer to him, as he sat on his ass completely. Damon was pale and covered in a cold sweat and gave Ramsay an empty sort of feeling. It was an odd thing to put into words for him. Never imagining he would actually care. He was amazed that Damon was still alive at this point. It had felt like a million years getting across town to this warehouse of death.

Damon moved his hand to Ramsay’s at his cheek and gave a small squeeze. “Don’t leave me hangin’.”

Ramsay cleared his throat, another noncommittal noise in his throat. He took a deep breath, setting the gun down and pulling Damon’s head into his lap. “Now I been out in the desert, just doin' my time. Searchin' through the dust, lookin' for a sign. If there's a light up ahead, well brother I don't know. But I got this fever burnin' in my soul. And I'll meet you further on up the road.” He sang quietly, stroking Damon’s bloody, matted hair.

Together they took a deep breath and continued as one, “One sunny mornin' we'll rise I know. And I'll meet you further on up the road.”

Ramsay gently laid Damon’s head onto the concrete, picked up the gun, and placed the barrel between Damon’s eyes.

Damon closed his eyes, letting out a final sigh as Ramsay pulled the trigger.

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kee-writestrashh · 6 years

Text

Guns for Hire

Ramsay Bolton x Reader

Ao3

Chapter 4: Friday Night Brawls

You adjusted your green and red elf skirt, placed your little hat on, and gave yourself one last look in the mirror. You frowned thinking of all the clothes and outfits you would probably never be able to wear again when summer rolled around.

You loved dressing up for holidays. Ramsay wasn't a fan, but money was money. This costume was a bit more modest as you wore tights under the skirt because it was cold as shit. Thankfully the snow had been put on hold.

You walked into the living room. Ramsay was sprawled out on the couch watching TV and biting at his nails.

"Alright, baby. I gotta go." You said stopping at the end of the couch.

"Take the Nova." Ramsay said, sitting up as you walked in. He held out the keys.

You narrowed your eyes, "why?"

"Because I said. Be a good girl. Don't argue."

You took the keys and leaned down to kiss your husband. He pulled you down into his lap and kissed you hungrily. You melted into him as he kissed across your jaw and worried what was surely a large and very prominent hickey on your neck. He often liked to mark you before you went to work. You were his and he wasn't about to let anyone forget that.

He finally let go of you. You smiled, giving him one last quick kiss. He slapped your ass when you turned around to leave.

"I'll see you later?" You asked, opening the front door and glancing back at your husband.

He simply nodded.

×××

You walked through the backdoor, hanging up your keys and then hanging up your purse in a locker, exchanging it for your waist apron.

"Oly! I'm here!" You called, glancing around. The bar didn't open officially for another thirty minutes tonight, so it was just you and Olyvar until the new girls showed up.

"Up front! Finishing the decorations!" Olyvar's voice called.

You walked into the cavernous, empty bar. Olyvar too was dressed as an elf, in his green tunic and red tights. He was standing on the counter hanging the last of the Christmas lights.

"Be a dear and plug them in?" Your coworker asked.

You followed the trail of lights to the outlet and plugged them in.

Olyvar jumped down from the counter, jingling as he did so from his bells on his slippers and hat, admiring his handiwork.

"Not too shabby." You said, looking around the festive place. "So, what company?"

"Lion Gate." Olyvar said, walking behind the counter, grabbing two glasses and pouring out two shots.

You felt a panic surge through you. Lion Gate was owned by Tywin Lannister, head of the Rampant Lions. The Rampant Lions and the Red Kings had been at war in the city and surrounding areas for a long time. While Ramsay was heir to the Red Kings, he had formed his own little gang, the Bastard's Boys that he kept busy with the most. If the Lannister's showed up, it was sure to be trouble. What were they playing at? They didn't hold any ground or footing on this side of town.

"What were you thinking? They can't come here. If Ramsay finds out..." You began as Olyvar downed his shot.

"We are one of the best places in the city of a Friday night. And, money is money."

Olyvar pushed the second glass to you, but you shook your head. "I can't."

Olyvar scrunched his brow before realization spread over his face and he practically squealed like a teenage girl.

"Oh. My. God! How exciting! When did you find out? What was Ramsay like? Tell me everything!" He said, smiling broadly.

Olyvar was one of your oldest friends. He had started working at the bar when you did, both putting yourselves through school. But when the bar owner died he had split the place between you both. Olyvar did work from time to time for Ramsay, selling things on the side. He was like a brother to you, and it didn't hurt that he was into men. You assumed this to be the only reason Ramsay never said anything about you talking to him, or being friendly with him.

You took a seat and smiled, "well, I found out yesterday afternoon after Ramsay left. I've been feeling like shit for like two months now. Cramps. Headaches. Constant upset stomach. And then remembered I hadn't had my period in months. So on the way here I picked up a test and it said yes. I was actually kind if afraid of how Rams would react. We had never talked about it before. So, anyway, I told him last night and he demanded we go get some tests. You know him. Well, I took four. They all said yes. I guess he's excited. But, hard to tell. He doesn't really express excitement. Then he made me an appointment this morning and the doctor said I was about eight or nine weeks. Heard the heartbeat and I wanted to cry. It was so amazing. I have an appointment on the third to get an ultrasound done." You gushed, glad to have someone to tell.

"Little baby Bolton. This city is not ready for that." Olyvar said with a laugh.

You laughed. He was not wrong. There was a knock on the front door. You glanced at the clock. 4:45. You got up from your stool and walked to the front door, letting Damon and Ben in. You gave them both smiles, which they didn't really return.

Ramsay probably religiously threatened them to not look at you. He was a very scary person when angry, or bored. Whichever.

"We're streaming the fight tonight. Sure we'll be fine with only four of us and the two in the kitchen?" Olyvar asked turning on the various TV screens.

"Yeah. I think. Sorry, I forgot all about the fight. But we've had bigger events with fewer. Maybe could have done with a couple extra hands in the kitchen though. See if you can get anyone else to come in to kitchen duty?" You said, as two girls walked in.

Roslin was a quiet college student, who was looking to make a bit of extra money. She wasn't overly pretty with her dull eyes and mousy Brown hair, but she wasn't ugly either. But you weren't sure bartending would be something she was cut out for. She was timid and you were afraid of men taking advantage of her innocence as far as the bar scene went. But you had hired her anyways. Remembering how you were when you had first come here. And now look at you. Wife to the heir of a multi million dollar organized crime family.

You had no worries with the other girl, Tyene. She was loud, wild, and more than capable of handling herself. She had been working here for a couple weeks now, and the men loved her. Her dark skin, hair, and eyes made her stand out. Made then men pay extra attention, and money. She was born to hustle and get what she wanted. If she proved her worth, loyalty, and cunning you may talk Ramsay into getting her in with the girls.

"Hey hey!" Tyene cried, putting her reindeer antler headband on.

"Glad to see we all dressed up." You said, grinning broadly, looking the two girls over as Tyene snapped on a big, red blinking nose.

Roslin flushed and gave a timid twirl in her Mrs. Claus dress.

"Alright, so it's us four tonight on the floor. Kitchen will be a bit understaffed, as it's only Mac and Dag, tonight unless we can get a couple more in. So only finger foods and appetizers tonight. Big party coming in, plus the fight. I'm assuming you advertised we were playing it?" You said, glancing at Olyvar, who gave a nod. You left him in charge of the Facebook page and other advertising outlets.

"Great. So, we will be crowded and busy. Anything you make you keep, other than prices of the drinks and food. Remember ladies, they can look, but they cannot touch you. We may not be a strip club, but we follow those same rules. Anyone gives you any problems just raise your fist in the air and Ben or Damon here will come to your aid." You motioned to the two burly men. "Don't let no man give you any shit. Feel free to drink, just remember to pay for it, and stay with it enough to do your jobs. By the time the night is over, you ladies will be very happy." You continued, clapping your hands and glancing at the clock. The two cooks walked into the bar and giving you thumbs up before disappearing into the kitchen to let you know they were there.

As assumed, the bar filled quickly and the volume steadily increased with the flow of liquor, smoke, and smells of greasy buffalo wings, fries, and mountains of nachos.

When the Lion Gate group arrived you didn't recognize anyone that could possibly cause trouble. They seemed to just be regular employees, not gang members. But, you could be wrong. You weren't as good as Ramsay when it came to picking rival gang members out of a crowd. They were a very loud and rowdy group. Both your girls were pocketing bills like crazy, and Olyvar spent his time behind the counter mixing drinks and flirting with a couple guys.

The smoke, smells, and sounds were starting to get to you. Your stomach turned over and you suddenly felt nauseous. A headache was starting to form. You caught Olyvar's attention and mimed taking a 'time out'. He gave you a thumbs up as you disappeared to the safety of the back room.

You sighed, taking a deep breath. You pulled your phone from your apron pocket. It was almost ten. Only another hour.

You sat at a small table, resting your head on it for awhile, trying to compose yourself and fighting the urge to throw up when the police scanner in the corner sounded.

"All available units to seventy fifth and Trident. Multiple gunshot wounds. Back up requested immediately."

'No mans land.' you thought to yourself with a frown. What was Ramsay up to? Nobody every held that stretch very long.

After awhile you got a hold of yourself, stood up, and pulled a water bottle from the employee fridge, and chugged half of it before getting back to work.

"(Y/n)!" Olyvar called. You glanced over at him, who nodded to the corner to Roslin.

She was being harassed by a couple of men. Tyene was across the room cutting up with a group, and Damon and Ben were busy keeping a fight from breaking out. You frowned, clenching your jaw and stomping over to the corner.

Roslin's eyes were wide in pleading when you appeared at her side. One of the men grabbed her ass.

"Excuse me, sir. But you are not allowed to touch my girls. Release her and keep your hands to yourself or you will be asked to leave." You said, pulling Roslin away, and shielding her.

The man laughed, grabbing your hip. "Oh come on baby, it's just a bit of fun. Get into the holiday spirit. I could make it worth your while." He slammed a stack of bills on the table with a drunken laugh.

You stepped back, but his grip tightened. You narrowed your eyes at the man, "get out of my bar."

He laughed, releasing his grip and slapping your ass. You brought your hand up to slap him, but he caught your wrist.

"Or what, doll? You'll call the police?"

A hand landed on the man's shoulder and you looked to see Ramsay flanked by five men. He gripped the man's shoulder until the man squirmed in pain, fury painted all over his face.

"Unfortunately for you, we don't call the police around here." Ramsay growled as two of the men pulled the man from his seat and drug him towards the back exit.

Ramsay looked you up and down, "how many times did he touch you, baby girl?"

"Three." You said, watching the fire burn in his eyes. He gave a nod, gave you a fleeting kiss, and stalked towards the exit.

"(Y/n), I'm so sorry." Roslin squeaked.

You gave a glance at the other man. He was oddly calm, for his buddy being dragged away as he simply sat there, scrolling through his phone, pocketing the stack of cash. This made your pulse quicken. You hurried to the bar counter and then ran towards the exit.

You stepped into the alley to find Ramsay bouncing the man's head off the brick wall next door.

You averted your eyes and pursed your lips, trying to ignore the sick, crunching sound. "Rams, we have a problem. He's a Rampant. As was his buddy."

Ramsay stopped in his action, dropping the man, who fell in a heap. Ramsay grabbed the man's arm and ripped his sleeve back. On the man's forearm was a tattoo of a rampant lion in red.

Ramsay pulled a knife from his pocket. One of Ramsay's men stuffed a rag into the Lion man's mouth as Ramsay hacked at the tattoo until the skin came away. You watched in horror as Ramsay clutched the piece of skin.

"Make it clean, boys." Ramsay said, looking at the group of men. They all left quickly, pulling guns.

"Don't you make a mess in my bar!" You hissed at your husband. "The cops are already being nosy!"

Ramsay gave you a long look. "Not a drop." He said, walking past you and holding the door open.

You glanced at the severely injured man laying on the pavement. "What about him? You can't just leave him."

"Baby girl, don't worry yourself about anything. It will all be taken care of. They started it, coming to my kingdom. Now, get back in there and get back to work. The lions won't be back." Your husband said, rather impatiently.

You just gave a nod and went back inside. You hurried back to the counter, pulling Olyvar to you so you could whisper in his ear. "Volume up, lights down. Now." You hissed.

Olyvar did as you instructed. Nobody seemed to notice. They were all too absorbed in the fight and drowning in beer. You glanced around and gasped as a hand grabbed you. Instinct brought your hand up, but Ramsay's chuckle stopped you. You relaxed.

"Come on." He said, pulling you along.

You furrowed your brows, but followed him to the table the other man still sat at. Ramsay took the empty seat across from him, pulling you into his lap, as his group of men formed a tight circle around the table. He leaned forward, his wicked smirk in place.

"I believe you owe my wife an apology." He said casually to the man.

The man scoffed, "I didn't touch her, speak to her, or even look at her."

Ramsay tutted and rolled his eyes, "I said that you owe my wife an apology. I will not tell you again."

"Listen punk, I don't know who you think..." the man started, puffing up, but his words were lost as Ramsay slammed the crudely flayed tattooed skin on the table.

"Our blades are sharp." Ramsay breathed with so much malice the temperature seemed to drop.

Your stomach churned at the piece of flesh on the table. You frowned, closing your eyes, and saying a small prayer.

What happened next was a blur. You saw Ramsay pull his knife, but everything that followed wouldn't come into focus as you were on your knees, vomiting in the toilet of the bar bathroom.

"(Y/n)? Are you okay?" Came Tyene's voice.

You leaned back, heaving a shaky sigh. "Yeah, dear. I'm just... I'm pregnant. Apparently the little one didn't like what I ate last."

Which was true. Nachos had been a very bad idea. However, you weren't sure if seeing a man murdered in front of you or the morning sickness had made you wretch.

"Okay, well, your husband, I think, is waiting on you. Says you should go home and rest. I was confused at first. But now it all makes sense. Congratulations! You know, even if it's not the ideal position to be told." She said with a small laugh at the end.

Well, now you were confused. Didn't complete chaos just unleash in the bar?

You pushed yourself up, sighed, flushed the toilet, and stepped out of the stall. Tyene peered at you curiously as you washed your hands, vigorously.

"What's it like out there?" You asked, drying your hands.

"Normal? A few men were escorted out, but other than that, everyone seems to be having a hell of a time."

You sighed again. This time relieved.

Tyene held the door open for you and you stepped back on to the floor. Sure enough, it was like nothing had ever happened. Ramsay pushed his empty shot glass back to Olyvar and rose from his stool when he saw you.

He looked you over, and held out his hand.

"You sure you'll be alright without me?" You asked Olyvar.

He nodded and gave you a smile, "of course. You just worry about you. We've got this."

You nodded and let Ramsay lead you to the back room. He said nothing as he untied your apron, grabbed your purse, and the keys hanging up.

"Come on baby girl. Let's get home."

You turned to Ramsay, who was as calm as could be, lighting a cigarette.

"What the fuck just happened?" You cried, throwing your hands up.

"Business. Seat belt, baby doll." He replied simply, exhaling smoke.

"Business? I just watched you kill a man in the middle of a crowded bar and no one freaked the fuck out. Explain." You said, demanding the last part.

Ramsay gave a harsh laugh, "If no one hears, no one sees."

"What the fuck were you thinking? The cops..."

"Will know nothing." He cut across you.

"How many men did you kill?"

"Just the cunt in the alley and at the table."

"What about the others?"

"We saw them out and sent them running along with messages to deliver."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't worry, baby girl. Everything will be okay. You just worry about my child inside you."

You frowned. This city was about to become very unsafe. For everyone. Including the unborn child inside of you.

Fear and dread welled inside you as you burst into tears.

Ramsay raised his brows in surprise and gave you a quick look.

"This is not right! Everything is such a mess!" You sobbed, snatching your hat off and clutching it in your hand to cry into.

"Whoa there, little momma. Calm down. Everything is fine. It will be fine. I have eyes everywhere." Ramsay said, softly.

It wasn't a very reassuring voice. That wasn't him. He wasn't one to comfort.

You simply gave a sniff and nodded.

Neither of you said anything for the remainder of the trip home.

Ramsay opened your door and helped you out. He placed a kiss to your temple as he led you inside and straight to the bedroom.

You simply stood there as he undressed you, kissing each bit of skin he exposed.

"What do you want?" He asked, kissing along your collar bone.

"Something to make me forget the things I saw tonight."

"Oh come on now baby girl. It wasn't that bad." Ramsay chortled, grabbing your hips.

You rested your cheek on his chest and sighed, "Rams, I watched you smash a man's head into a brick wall and then cut his skin off. I watched you stab a man point blank across a table while I sat in your lap. You could have hurt somebody innocent. What part of that wasn't so bad?"

Ramsay placed his finger under your chin and brought your face up to look at him.

"First things first, baby girl. Nobody at a bar is innocent. Second, both of those men disrespected you. Therefore disrespecting me. I will not have that. At all."

You looked away from him. Maybe he was right. Or at least had a point. You looked back up at him and opened your mouth to say something when your breath caught. The cramps were bad enough. But the increasing nausea was getting really fucking annoying.

Ramsay raked his eyes over your face and frowned, pulling you to the bed. He undressed and slid into the bed next to you, pulling you close and running his hand through your hair until you finally fell into a deep sleep.

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kee-writestrashh · 6 years

Text

Guns for Hire

Ramsay Bolton x Reader

Part 1 of the Bastard’s Boys series

Ao3

Chapter 2: Wolves at the Door

"When did you find out?" Ramsay asked, arms crossed, leaning against the door frame as you peed on the fourth pregnancy test. "Only this morning." You said with a sigh, replacing the cap and setting it next to the other three that all read positive. "I was hoping to tell you at dinner tonight. But..." You added, giving your husband a frown. He pushed off the door frame and watched, for the fourth time, the lines read positive. It was hard to tell what was going through his head. Was he mad? Excited? Scared? Happy?

"Who all knows?" He asked, glancing over at you as you washed your hands.

"Just you baby." You said, reassuringly, drying your hands off.

Ramsay nodded. "You're making a doctor's appointment first thing in the morning." With that he left you alone in the bathroom.

You were a bit afraid. It wasn't that he had shown no emotion, it was that you didn't know the emotion he had etched on his face. It was foreign and unknown to you. Was he making you set up an appointment for an abortion? The thought made your stomach hurt.

You let out a yawn and crawled into bed. You had been so ready for bed after sex, but then Ramsay demanded going and buying pregnancy tests.

Kira raised her head off the floor a bit when you entered the bedroom. You gave her a loving nudge with your toe before climbing into bed, heaving a deep sigh as you sunk into your squashy pillow.

A few moments later Ramsay came to bed. What happened next made you want to cry in happiness. Once under the covers he pulled you into him, nuzzled your neck, and placed his hand protectively over your stomach.

"I love you, baby girl." He whispered.

You let a small smile tug your lips, "I love you too, baby."

×××

The smell of bacon and coffee woke you. You looked around through bleary eyes and stifled a yawn. The clock on the bedside table read 8:17.

You sat up, running your hand through your hair, casting around for your bathrobe. You slid out of bed and opened the closet door. No bathrobe hanging up.

'Laundry room.' You thought with a sigh, grabbing the silk robe instead.

It was really too cold as the cold December air seemed to seep into your hardwood floor. You shrugged into your robe and made your way to the kitchen.

The table was set with a plate of eggs, toast, and bacon. A cup of coffee waiting for you. Ramsay was nowhere to be found. He must have been outside smoking.

You sat in the chair and tucked into your food. Once you had eaten your fill you looked around the spotless kitchen, thinking back to the night before. You sipped your coffee, absentmindedly running your hand over your stomach.

Ramsay came into the kitchen, whistling. You looked up and offered a small smile. He narrowed his eyes and gave you a sweet smile back.

"Go get ready. We have a doctor's appointment at eleven thirty." He said, clapping his hands together, and taking your plate away.

"Uhm, okay, love." You said, rising from your chair.

"I need to go into the office after, so one of the guys will bring you home. We have dinner reservations at six."

You smiled to yourself walking into the bathroom and turning the shower on. It had been weeks since your husband had taken you out to eat, and you were excited. Though, you were also nervous about the appointment in three hours.

"How cold is it outside?" You called from your closet.

"Cold enough." Ramsay called back.

You nodded to yourself grabbing a sweater and pair of skinny jeans. After dressing you pulled on your boots and walked back to the bathroom to fix your hair and make up.

"Come on baby girl, let's go!"

"Coming!" You called from the bathroom, finishing up your hair.

Ramsay held out your coat and purse when you reached the front door.

×××

You felt extremely out of place in this waiting room. You felt way over dressed as you looked around at the women in the room. Ramsay sat, impatiently tapping his foot until the nurse opened the door and called your name.

Ramsay possessively grabbed your hand and pushed you forward to walk in front of him as the nurse led you back.

"Good morning, Mrs. Bolton." The nurse said kindly, as she indicated you to step on the scale.

"Good morning!" You said brightly, as she took down your weight.

"So what are we doing today?" The nurse asked, leading you to an empty room.

"Well, yesterday five pregnancy tests informed me that I'm pregnant." You said, as Ramsay helped you up onto the examination bed.

"First?" The nurse asked, making a note.

"Yes." You breathed in excitement, cheeks flushing.

The nurse smiled kindly, "can you tell me the last day of your cycle?"

You frowned, trying to remember. "Uh...."

"Second week of September." Ramsay spoke up.

Nothing slipped past him. In a weird way it was like he knew everything. Especially when it came to you.

The nurse nodded, writing another note. She then smiled at you again.

"Alright, let's get some blood drawn and a urine analysis and then Doctor Stark will be with you and we'll see what we can see."

You nodded, sliding off the table and following the nurse. You glanced back at Ramsay who looked uncomfortable with letting you leave without him.

Five minutes later the nurse returned you to your room and you sat nervously on the examination bed while Ramsay sat in a chair, stared out the window. Every so often he would glance down at his watch and jiggle his foot.

Finally there was a knock on the door and the doctor entered as Ramsay stood quickly, taking his place beside you.

The doctor was a lovely looking woman, who was maybe old enough to be your mother. She had kindly blue eyes and deep auburn hair.

She held her hand out to shake Ramsay's hand.

"I'm Doctor Stark. But feel free to call me Cat." She took a seat on her stool and glanced down at the clipboard she was holding.

"So, I believe a congratulations are in order. Mother's urine sample and blood shows she is in perfect health and baby will do just fine. And this is your first?"

"Yes ma'am." You said, unable to keep the grin off your face.

"Never had any miscarriages before?" The doctor questioned.

You shook your head, "no. But I've been trying for a couple years. Was about ready to give it up as a lost cause. But here we are."

"Here we are." Doctor Cat echoed, writing more things on her clipboard. "Okay, well, you seem healthy, your weight is good, I want you to start taking prenatals, and we will get the Doppler in here to see if we can hear a heartbeat."

You chewed your lip and gave a nod.

You held back tears, gripping Ramsay's hand as the tiny heartbeat came through the speaker of the Doppler.

Ramsay clenched his jaw and fought back a grin.

"I would say we are about eight to nine weeks. Next appointment we will get an ultrasound done, and see exactly how well the little one is doing." Doctor Cat said, with a smile.

The woman at the front desk handed you a slip of paper with your next appointment. You thanked her, smiling brightly, as Ramsay led you from the office. Your smile faltered slightly as you saw Damon's car parked next to yours.

"I won't be long." Ramsay said, pressing a kiss to your temple and then stepping into Damon. "She will get home safe or even Satan himself will have pity on you." He growled so threateningly it made your blood run cold.

"Y-yes, of course." Damon trembled, opening the door for you.

You said nothing as Damon wound his way out of the downtown. You didn't like him. Something about him made you uneasy. But he was Ramsay's right hand. He had more brains than some of the men Ramsay had employed.

"You hungry, ma'am?" Damon asked, waiting on the stoplight to turn green.

"No. Thank you though." You said, watching a group of people hurry across the street, bundled against the harsh December wind and laden with shopping bags.

×××

You were curled up on the couch, under a blanket, reading when both dogs sat up and growled at the front door. You peered at them in interest as the doorbell rang.

You hurried to the door as the dogs barked. Peering out the peep hole you saw two men in suits standing on your door step.

Slowly you opened the door.

The taller of the two, a auburn haired man gave you a smile, while the sandy haired man gave you a nod.

"Mrs. Bolton?" The auburn haired man asked, flashing a badge.

Your stomach dropped, but you put on a sweet smile, "Yes. May I help you gentlemen?"

"We have a few questions for you. I'm detective Stark and this is my partner Detective Greyjoy."

"Yes, of course. Please, come in out of the cold." You said opening the door wider. Kira and Willow on your heels, emitting low, rumbling growls. You snapped your fingers and the dogs reluctantly retreated across the room to their beds, but never taking their eyes off the men.

You motioned to the empty love seat and the two detectives sat down.

"Can I offer you gentlemen anything to drink? Tea, coffee, water?" You asked taking your seat, and folding your blanket up.

"No thank you." Detective Greyjoy said, eyeing you up and down.

Your phone lit up on the coffee table.

[Ramsay: 5 min]

"If you'll excuse me a second." You said, picking your phone up and hitting call.

'Yes baby doll?' Ramsay said on the other end.

"Hey, wanted to finish up that cake for your father. Can you bring home some sugar?" You said, looking down at the coffee table.

'Of course, baby. See you soon. I love you.'

"Be careful. I love you too." You said, hanging up and turning back to the detectives. "Sorry, I just wanted to catch him before he got home. Really don't wanna be out in this cold."

'Bring home some sugar' was your code phrase to let Ramsay know unexpected company had shown up.

"Not a problem at all. But, last night a man was murdered behind the bar you work at. Reports say you were the last one to see him." Detective Stark said, pulling a picture from his jacket pocket and laying it on the coffee table and sliding it towards you.

You picked up the photo with trembling fingers and taking in a sharp gasp. "Oh my god." It was a picture of Dogbait Farlan as he was known at the bar. You looked up from the picture, trying to remember yesterday. You had been feeling ill and were only half there.

"What... what happened?" You asked, looking between the two men.

"Stabbed to death it seems." Greyjoy spoke, glancing around your house. "Awfully nice place for someone who works at a bar."

His partner gave him a scowl.

You bristled, "I've been working at the bar since I was eighteen. The customers love me and tip me well. Besides i co-own it, if you must know. And my husband works at the bank. We don't hurt for money, thank you."

"Please forgive my partner's rudeness. He's having a bad day it seems." Stark spoke up quickly.

You pursed your lips and turned your gaze to the red head, "is your mother the OBGYN at the place down town?"

The man nodded.

"I saw her today. She confirmed my pregnancy." You said, making small talk. If you could keep them talking until Ramsay got home you'd feel better.

"Congratulations. You must be excited."

You nodded, smiling. Glancing up as Ramsay entered the house, looking rather goofy with a bag of sugar. He gave you a quick look and then ran his eyes over the detectives.

Both men stood, pulling their badges. Ramsay gave a nod. You watched him take an interest in the Greyjoy man

"Has my wife done something I should know about? Money laundering? Murder? Grand theft auto, perhaps?" Ramsay asked, dropping the sugar on the coffee table and taking a seat beside you.

Detective Stark gave a laugh, putting his badge away, and sitting down again. "No, sir. But we had information that she was the last one to speak to our murder victim last night before we was found dead behind the bar.

From the corner of your eye you saw Ramsay narrow his slightly.

Bastard. You knew it. It was him. It had to be.

"So, what can you tell us?" Greyjoy asked.

"Well, I mean, it was a slow evening. Just the regulars. I left early. I wasn't feeling well and had a date with my husband. But by the time I got home I was feeling too bad to go out. But as far as the bar... Nothing out of the ordinary, honestly. Farlan was my last customer before clocking out, yes. He ordered a beer, drank it, and left. He wasn't with anyone that I know of, and he didn't seem distressed in any way. He was telling me about his new litter of hounds and was just regular ol' Farlan. Sorry if I'm not much help. I can't believe... I mean... He was a good guy." You said, playing up emotion at the end. Ramsay draped his arm around your shoulders and gave you a small squeeze. To let you know you were playing your part wonderfully.

"No enemies? He didn't owe anyone any money or favors?" Stark asked.

You frowned, shaking your head. "Not that I'm aware of. He was a pretty quiet man. After him and his wife divorced he kept himself to himself mostly."

The detectives exchanged looks, telling you they were back to square one. Stark sighed and rose from his seat.

He held his hand out to you and Ramsay in turn.

"Thank you for your time. If you hear anything, please give us a call."

"Of course. Good luck." Ramsay said, politely showing the men to the door.

Once they were gone, Ramsay clicked the lock and watched as they drove away. He then walked over to the chair they sat in and pulled all the cushions and pillows, examining every inch.

He stood back up and turned to you.

You grinned at him, picking up the bag of sugar. "We may have more sugar than anyone in the world now. When the apocalypse happens we can make our fortune selling sugar." You giggled.

Ramsay snorted, following you to the kitchen.

"Did you do it?" You asked casually, glancing at your husband over your shoulder as you placed the bag of sugar on a shelf in the pantry.

"No. Wasn't us. We were across town."

You frowned, crossing your arms. "Then who? I mean, who'd want to kill that man? Everyone loved him."

Ramsay shrugged, stepping into you and pulling you into him.

"Go get ready for dinner."

"I didn't like that one detective. He was rude." You said, slipping your dress on and pulling your hair aside so Ramsay could zip it.

He kissed along your bare skin before pulling the zipper up.

"Rude, how?" He asked, placing a diamond necklace around your neck and clasping it.

You fingered the new necklace and stared at it in the mirror.

"Rams, this is beautiful." You whispered.

"Thought my little momma might like it when I saw it in the window. Now, tell me about the detective." Ramsay said, kissing your cheek.

You turned to face him, "he was just all like, 'this is an awfully nice place for someone who works at a bar.' Fucking rude ass."

You saw the gears turning behind your husband's eyes.

"Don't do anything stupid, please." You added quickly.

Ramsay smirked, "I would do no such thing, baby girl."

"Liar." You whispered, pressing your lips to his.

His grin widened against your lips, but said nothing as he kissed you back.

#ramsay bolton x reader #ramsay bolton #ramsay bolton imagines #game of thrones #game of thrones imagines #mafia au #ao3fic #ao3 writer #guns for hire #kee_theyoungwolf #kee-writestrash #modern ramsay bolton #ramsay is his own warning #game of thrones au #game of thrones fic #archiveofourown

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kee-writestrashh · 6 years

Text

Dreams in Neon

Ramsay Bolton x Reader

Ao3

Words: 2420

Summary: The year is 2518. The race to create super soldiers is at its height. All the big Westrosi families are trying to undermine one another to get to the top first. Robots and androids on every corner. Is that guy even human? 15 years ago you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Your father packed you up and fled the city to try to undo his mistake. However, you were left with your formidable grandmother. Now an adult, well on your way to the top of the law field, you receive word that your father didn't just leave you with your grandmother, but he was kidnapped by one of those big time crime families, and shunted to the underground. You decide to team up with an old friend from the city and uncover the truth about what happened the day you seemed to lose everything. On your arrival, things start to get weird, and you were not prepared for this. War is looming on the doorsteps, but it may not be from other countries or even colonies ready to break free from the oppression of the home planet. Will you regret leaving the 'country side' or will you stand your ground and find your father? (*3rd person pov)

Chapter 3: How Little I Must Know

She woke in a heavy fog at first and then gasp, glancing around, unsure where she was. Then it quickly came back to her as she sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and stifling a small yawn as she glanced around the quiet room.

“Maxie?” She mumbled, rolling from the bed and stretching deeply.

“Good morning, (Y/N)!” A voice twittered back, the watch on (Y/N)’s wrist lighting up before a holographic figure appeared on the desk beside the only window in the room. A foot tall, cat, stretching and turning circles, before flopping down in the sunlight, its tail flicking lazily as it watched (Y/N) dig in her suitcase.

(Y/N) glanced at the hologram and gave a nonplussed look, “feeling feline today?” She asked, pulling free clothes and setting them beside the blue cat.

“I thought it fitting.” The cat said back, giving what was unmistakably a shrug, “Anyways, what can I start you with this morning?”

“Let grandma know I’m here.” (Y/N) said, making way to the small connected bathroom and closing the door.

The cat sat outside the door, “Already done. She says not to spend all your credits in one place, she loves you, and to keep her updated. Weather today will be sunny at a balmy seventy-eight, and a low of sixty-two. You have two messages from Conquest Nine, and a new message from Uni about job opportunities. Oh, and a coupon to The Twins Brewery. Twenty percent off any meal. Good at any loca-”

“Yes yes. Delete that. What about Conquest?” (Y/N) asked, opening the bathroom door as she wet her toothbrush.

“New tournament dates have been set. And…. your previous tournament credits have been awarded, ready to use in the shop. The shop closes up forty-eight hours before the start of the next tournament.” Maxie said, jumping up on the counter and watching (Y/N) brush her teeth. “Do you request further assistance?”

(Y/N) paused her brushing and turned her eyes to the hologram. Maxie had been a gift to her from her father for her 13th birthday. It was the last time she had actually seen him. But it wasn’t uncommon. Despite all the technology and ever changing gadgets, travel still took awhile, and the expanded colonies were very spread out. She went to school with many kids who’s parents were always travelling. Galactic Safety, scientists of all forms, doctors who needed to make routine checks to the Outerrims. So, (Y/N) had never imagined that her father was not a part of the water conservation project he had claimed. That really he was living a double life. But, Maxie had always been here for her. An AI that grew with her. Took part in her interests, stayed up with her many a long nights to study for finals, and been her true best friend. “Did you ever know any of this stuff about Dad?”

“No, ma’am. I did not. I know what you know.” Maxie said somberly.

(Y/N) sighed, finishing her usual morning routine. “I dunno what to think.”

“We will figure it out.” Maxie said, giving a small nod.

“I dunno if I have ever told you, but I am so glad for you.” (Y/N) said with a fond smile at the semi-transparent cat.

“As am I. Now, I am off to explore the city links.” Maxie said, giving another cat stretch and vanishing from sight.

(Y/N) let the guest room and retraced her steps from the night before, finding herself at the front door. She glanced around, hearing voices from a distant room. She found herself in a polished and glimmering kitchen. Ned and Cat looked up from a table and both smiled at you.

“Sleep well?” Cat asked, setting down her coffee cup.

(Y/N) gave a small shrug. “I guess. Too much on my mind.”

Ned gave her a long look, a deep sigh, and pulled out the chair beside him. “I think it’s time we talked.”

“Ned! She just got up. She should have breakfast first.” Cat snapped.

(Y/N) shook her head, “No. Food can wait. I want answers.”

“There isn’t much we can give you. We don’t know much more than you.” Ned said slowly, running his hand along his chin and giving a deeper frown. “As you know, your father and I went to school together. Grew up together. I was the best man at your parents wedding. He was the best man at mine. When you were born your parents named me and Cat as your godparents. When your mother died…”

“You mean murdered.” (Y/N) cut in rather harshly.

Ned sighed again, “Yes. I remember as if it were yesterday. It all happened so fast. I was only a patrol officer then. When the call watch patched over the line I was in the middle of lunch. I booked it as fast as I could across town. And when I got there… I’d never seen anything like it.” Ned stopped, staring down at his hands and giving a small shudder as the kitchen droid poured (Y/N) a cup of coffee. Ned took a deep breath and pressed on, “Of course, no evidence was left behind. Never found out who it was. There are theories, of course.”

“Like the Bolton’s?” (Y/N) asked bluntly, buttering toast from the plate another droid had placed on the table.

Ned frowned, “There are things you need to understand. The Bolton’s, while not my favorite people to deal with, have never outwardly displayed mafia related activity. But, Roose is almost as cunning as he is cruel.”

“Then it’s possible.” (Y/N) said thickly through the toast in her mouth.

“I suppose it could be. But there are so many others. This whole super soldier thing has everyone rushing to be first. And your father was promising. Won many a prizes while we were still in college for genetic modifications that did not involve the use of replacing parts with machines. That breakthrough had everyone on his heels. The money and benefits he was offered. Turning down everyone. Until your mother died. Roose Bolton just happened to come to him first after your mother’s death.”

(Y/N) stared down at her plate, chewing the inside corner of her lip.

“And then your father came to us.” Cat said after a few moments silence. “He asked us to never tell you anything, incase something happened. Asked if we would keep an eye on you and be there for you. Then, well, the accident. While you were in your comma he instructed us, and your grandmother, to give you the same story, and never let you step foot in the city.”

“But why?” (Y/N) asked almost pleadingly.

“We don’t know, honey.” Cat said, giving (Y/N) a truly sad look. “He vanished before anymore could be discussed. It was like he knew something was going to happen, but figured the less anyone knew the safer you would be.”

“Safe from what?!” (Y/N) half shouted. “What accident? What happened? Who am I supposed to be finding? What did he mean when he said they are coming? Who?! Who are coming?!” She felt the hot tears springing up in the corners of her eyes and fought to keep control of her quavering voice.

“More questions we can’t answer.” Said Ned heavily, “No one knows what happened in the accident. All record and video of it was wiped from everything. All anyone knows for sure was that it resulted in Roose’s eldest son’s death. Other than your father, Roose is the only other person who knows exactly what happened.”

“Then I have to talk to him.” (Y/N) said, standing abruptly.

“No. I said the Bolton’s have never been linked to mafia related incidents. I did not say that they were not a crime family. They just haven’t been caught at it. Not since Roose became head of the family. They go by the Red King’s. And besides that, they would sniff you out before you even got close. All the thugs and criminals have an act for sniffing out fresh military and police cadets.” Ned said, giving her a very stern look.

(Y/N) made a frustrated noise, but sat back down, glaring at her coffee. “Then what do I do?”

“There is nothing you can do. We have to wait. Play it by ear. Your father went out of his way to warn you. To keep you safe.” Ned nodded.

“Safe?! Safe from what?! What exactly am I safe from if no one can even tell me what I’m supposed to be looking out for? Would someone please tell me?” (Y/N) cried, a rogue tear slipping down her cheek. Cat rose from her seat and moved around the edge of the table to embrace her goddaughter in a tight, motherly hug.

“We will figure it out. We loved your father, your mother. And we love you too.” Cat whispered in her ear, rubbing her back firmly with the palm of her hand before letting go and leaving the room.

“Take a couple days to relax, kiddo. Get your head on straight. We could really use someone like you with your mind on the force. We’ve had to up patrols and physical force recently. A lot of civil unrest. Could help keep you busy until we get a lead.” Ned said, clapping (Y/N) of the shoulder as he rose from his seat, leaving too.

(Y/N) sat down heavily in her chair again, slumping down into it as she gazed blindly at her hardly touched plate of breakfast.

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there until someone sitting in the chair beside her spoke and made her start. She turned her head to see Robb, who gave her a small smile.

“How’re you doing?” he asked.

“Well, I’ve just found out that my whole life has basically been a lie. How do you think I’m doing, Robb?” (Y/N) said rather harshly.

“Tactless.” Another voice tutted. (Y/N) turned to see Sansa walk in, scowling at her elder brother. (Y/N) gave Sansa a warm smile and stood from her seat and hugged Sansa. Sansa was just a little over two years younger than she and Robb. “Why was I not informed the moment you got here?”

“Sorry. I was just… my mind isn’t right. And Maxie had his hands full trying to keep up with me, I guess.” (Y/N) said with a small shrug.

“Well, I refuse to let you sit around and mope. You and me are going shopping, and then we are going out tonight. There are so many things I want to show you.” Sansa said with a small smile.

Sansa seemed to change a lot. Found herself after she finally was able to break it off and leave that idiot Joffrey guy. But she looked in better spirits than when you graduated just a few short months ago.

“Well, I would like to see the city.” (Y/N) nodded slowly, “Lemme go put something better on and then we can go.”

She left the table and returned to the room she was currently utilizing until she had found a place of her own. It shouldn’t be too hard once she had secured a job. Her father had given her a small fortune. Apparently whatever it was that he was doing he at least made good money for it. She changed quickly, nothing overly exciting; a simple black tee and her favorite tight jeans. She slipped on her shoes and grabbed up the thin glass sheet cell phone and headed back downstairs.

Sansa was waiting for her, smiling wide. She opened the door and stepped outside, (Y/N) following on her heels. “How’s the business?”

Sansa beamed at this, “It is going so great! I’ve been asked to make a few pieces for the Winter collection and I am so excited about it! So, where is your transportation?”

(Y/N) gave a small shrug, “I came in on the sub. I was thinking about maybe getting a bike. It’s just me and Maxie. And well, Maxies doesn’t exactly require any space. So instead of clogging up the streets further with a car I don’t need, I thought just getting a bike would be okay.”

“Ooh! I know just the place.” Sansa said, sliding into her car and opening the door for (Y/N). “So did dad offer you a spot on the department yet?”

(Y/N) gave a small chortle and nodded, “He did. What was he talking about with civil unrest?”

Sansa shrugged, “There seems to be an increase in crimes recently. Burglary, murder, kidnappings.”

“Hm.” (Y/N) hummed, frowning as she watched the surroundings speed past.

“So, shopping, lunch, then we will go look at bikes, and then we are going out to drink tonight.”

(Y/N) gaped slightly at Sansa, “Since when did you become such a rebel?”

Sansa rolled her eyes and shrugged, “I just… feel better now that I don’t have to look at Joffrey anymore.”

The two young women said nothing more and just listened to music, silently enjoying one another’s presence for awhile. Finally, Sansa parked her car in a packed parking garage near the heart of the city. They both wandered to the elevator and waited on it to open. As the elevator opened that same cold fuzz happened in the back of (Y/N)’s mind, but this time it was more. It was as if she saw it happen before it did. Like watching everything in slow motion as a man in a hurry made to run from the elevator. Except (Y/N) could move at normal speed, training kicking in, she thought of nothing else as she pulled Sansa out of the way, and pushed the slowly moving running man. Then like the flip of a switch everything was going at normal speed again; Sansa gasped as she was pulled out of the way and the man fell to the ground, as the doors to a set of stairs burst open and two security guards came running in.

Sansa turned to look at (Y/N) and squinted, “How’d you do that?” She whispered as they watched the guards cuff the man and collect all the stolen items from his pockets.

Unsure what to say or how to process what the hell had just happened (Y/N) shrugged, “Instinct?”

**image not mine. found on google

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kee-writestrashh · 6 years

Text

I Will Cherish You

Ramsay Bolton x Sansa Stark

Ao3

Summary: Based loosely on this prompt: sansa&ramsay: glory&gore from @asoiafrarepairs

**This will be a very dark fic. Sansa has finally reached the end of her rope and it’s time she let that wolf blood take over. Arya is not the only Stark female with a sharp bite.

Words: 1029

Chapter 2: Nascent

“You wished to see me, my lord?” Davos said quietly, closing the chamber door behind him.

Jon looked up from his drink and gave a small nod. “Aye.” He stood from his seat and walked around the table, his fingers lingering on the polished wood. Now that he was back in Winterfell, he felt it hard to keep his hands off the tangibility of it all. As if reassuring himself this was no dream. That he was indeed finally back home again. “I’m worried about Sansa.”

“As you should be. She is your sister, after all. Though, I do not think that is what you are meaning.” Davos said, watching Jon closely.

“I just mean, she has changed.” Jon sighed, casting a long look around the council chamber that had once belonged to Ned. The amount of times he and Robb and Theon had played in here. Pretending to be great lords and finalizing battle plans. He picked up a wooden piece in the shape of the Bolton sigil and held it tight in his hand before throwing it into the fireplace and watching it turn to to no more than kindling.

“She is hardly a girl anymore, Jon. She is now a woman. And not only a woman, but a woman who has been through hardships I do not think you or I could imagine. It seems that since the day you all left here the gods have not been kind to the Lady Sansa at all.” Davos said sagely, lacing his fingers in front of himself and rocking on his heels slightly.

Jon frowned, turning to Davos completely. “I don’t know what to do with her. She refuses to listen to anything I say. She has that bastard chained up in the dungeons, and I don’t understand. She was so determined to kill him. To rid him from existence, and yet, he is now a prisoner.”

Davos nodded, “Killing a man outright is hard, Jon. You know that as well as I do. Even more than that, she is a woman. She may have changed, as you say, I do not know, as I did not know her in her childhood, however, inside of her she is a Stark. She values life, even when the life does not need to be valued. If you want my advice, talk to her. I know you think she isn’t listening, but she is. She has had to do this all on her own for a very long. She has been alone since the day Joffrey Lannister took her father’s head on the stairs of the sept and made her watch. She has been tossed around like a doll. Dirtied and bloodied. You cannot fault her for learning how to use those wolf teeth you Stark’s have.”

Jon nodded, “Thank you, ser. Will you make sure everyone has everything they need?”

“Of course.” Davos said with a small bow before leaving Jon alone.

Jon gave the room one last look over before he too left. He let his feet carry him through the halls, thinking maybe he would seek Sansa out and speak with her. However, he found his boots carrying him down the cold stone steps to the dungeon. He stopped at the first cell, which held Ramsay.

“Look who it is. Lord Snow.” Ramsay chuckled darkly. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t bow and lick your boots. I’m a bit restrained at the moment.” He gave a dramatical rattle to the chains at his hands.

Jon scowled at the man before him. The man who had done atrocious things to his sister. The man who was known to hunt women for sport. A man worse than any he had met so far. “Why did Sansa not kill you?” He asked coldly, even though he knew he would not get a straight answer out of the bastard.

Ramsay shifted, bringing himself more into the light of the torches. Jon saw the twisted, cold smirk of a madman before he took in the rest of Ramsay, still caked in his own blood. Hair still matted in dried blood. Lips cracked and busted. His azure eyes shining bright against the bloodied tint that should have been white, one half swollen shut. Ramsay ran his tongue slowly along his hot, swollen bottom lip in thought and then turned his eyes completely to Jon.

“Is it so much a hard question to answer yourself?” He finally asked, challenging Jon with that damn smirk.

“If I knew the answer, I wouldn’t be asking.” Jon said hotly. He was in no mood to play games. He knew he made a mistake in thinking he could get anything out of this madman.

Ramsay tutted and shrugged, “I don’t know.”

Jon glared at Ramsay, deciding he had had enough of this. He turned on his heel and started his way back toward the stairs when Ramsay’s voice stopped him mid-step.

“She is a Bolton now, Lord Snow. No longer a Stark. I have created a monster. The most beautiful monster in all of creation. She is a Bolton, and she will act as one. I am alive because she cannot kill me. She needs me. Without me, she is nothing.” Ramsay said, a harsh laugh leaving him that echoed off the cold stone walls.

Jon balled his hands into fists at his side, but ignored Ramsay’s words as he left the dungeons. However, the words would weigh heavy on him. What if he had a point? It was like Davos said, Sansa had been through things he could never begin to understand. Sansa was stronger than anyone he had ever met. Being abused by Joffrey and threatened by Cersei. Lord Baelish whispering in her ear. Ramsay Bolton her husband. All of these things, and yet, she was alive. At one time, Jon would not have given a second thought to the idea that people became monsters. That was a silly idea. But now… well, he knew the world to be different than what he had thought. Sansa no longer believed in fair maidens and noble knights. How far gone was Sansa from the girl he had once known?

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kee-writestrashh · 6 years

Text

Dreams in Neon

Ramsay Bolton x Reader

Ao3

Words: 1685

Chapter 2: Circuits Entwined

The city had changed so much in the last 15 years. Honestly, she hated it. Sure the neon lights illuminating everything was exciting. The huge holographic billboards with advertisements for new car and motorcycle upgrades and all-in-one robotic house cleaning services for a low payment of 3000 credits. The loud attire of everyone. It seemed neon light infused clothing were all the rage this season.

She had just been bustled off the subway when she suddenly felt woozy and slightly sick to her stomach as the crowd pushed past her. She took a deep breath and chalked it up to nerves. She had had a lot of those lately. Nerves. But this had been a most peculiar feeling. Like a cold tingle in the back of the mind, and a strange flopping sensation of the stomach. Whatever it was, it was unpleasant.

She glanced around, looking for the one who was supposed to be meeting her. Even so late in the evening the station platform was packed. Did these people ever sleep? She took in the people talking away on either cell phones, or handsfree with their hologlasses. None of them paying any mind to the rats running in and out of the maze of feet as they scavenged for food.

“(Y/N)!” A voice called on the other side of the platform. She glanced up, and smiled as she saw the auburn curls of Robb Stark bouncing as he waved his arms to catch her attention. (Y/N) wove her way through the crowd, much like the rats, pulling her luggage along with her. She stopped in front of Robb and flashed him a beaming grin, turning her eyes to broody Jon beside him.

“Sorry we were a bit late. Got held up.” Robb said, eyes shining as he relieved her of her luggage. “(Y/N), it is so great to see you again!” he added, leading her from the platform.

“I can tell. Jon is practically bursting to the brim with excitement.” (Y/N) chuckled, nudging Jon, who rolled his eyes.

“He’s just having a bad day. Girl troubles.” Robb chuckled, opening the door of a taxi for her as he loaded the bags in the trunk. (Y/N) slid in the backseat, Robb on her other side as Jon took the empty passenger’s seat. (Y/N) glanced over the android driver, who seemed to glow in monochrome and then turned grinning at Robb.

“I really cannot thank your parent’s enough for letting me stay until I can get a job and my own place.” She said earnestly.

“Don’t worry about it! Mum and dad adore you. And when you called about the message you got… well, dad’s all over it. Said your father was a great man, and feels like shit that all of this happened under his watch.” Robb nodded, giving her a sad smile.

The ride to the Stark’s family home was relatively short, considering it was on the edge of the city, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but marvel at how elegant the home was against the city backdrop. It wasn’t how she remembered it. But then again, 15 years was a long time. She couldn’t even recall what happened the day they left. She only remembered leaving in a hurry. And the more she tried to remember the more it seemed to physically hurt. She couldn’t explain it.

Ned and Cat Stark met them at the front door. Cat fussed about how exhausted (Y/N) must be and ordered the boys to take her things to the guest room. Ned clapped her on the shoulder, and said they would speak in the morning. The only other one living in the house was Rickon, who had already been put to bed. But even without the other three, it was like some ‘Welcome home party’.

The Stark’s had always been close to her family. Ned and her father had been close friends, and even after the ‘accident’ as her grandmother had called it, the Stark’s had still remained close; coming to visit her, but never was she allowed to the city. (Y/N), Robb, Jon, and Sansa had all went to college together upstate. But, still unsure what she wanted to do with her degree, (Y/N) had gone back to her grandmother’s to breathe and recharge. And then when she felt she had almost figured out her next step the message had arrived.

(Y/N) fell into the bed with a sigh, staring up at the dark ceiling. As if suddenly remembering exactly why she was here, a heart becoming heavy, as she rolled on her side and stared now at the illuminated clock.

She had been busy surfing the web and halfass playing a tournament in VR when a glitch occurred, making everything blackout. She had yanked the helmet off and glanced around quickly, trying to figure out what had happened when a voice spoke. She jammed the helmet back on, but everything was still black.

“H-hello?” She said quietly, turning her head, this way and that, wondering if she could get a picture to come in.

“(Y/N)!” The voice shouted, almost in relief.

“Dad?”

“(Y/N), baby, listen to me. I don’t have much time. They... are... coming.” But a static was starting to set in.

“Who? Who are coming? Dad? DAD! Where are you?” She cried, clutching the helmet tighter, as if it would help anything.

“I… love… you. I am so… sorry for all… the lies… don’t let them… … find him. You must find him. I am so sorry…. I lo-... you.”

“Who? Find who? What lies? DAD?!”

But there was no answer. Beating the damn VR helmet did nothing. She stood there stunned for a moment, before realizing, she was back in her game tournament. So that meant… She glanced down in the corner, the flashing light in the corner meant it was still recording.

“(Y/N), where were you? What happened? You glitched out!” Robb’s voice said, as his character ran across the screen toward her.

“Later.” (Y/N) said quickly. “Drop.” she said firmly. She suddenly found herself back at the homescreen of the system. “Playback.” she ordered, and the videofeed appeared on her computer screen as she pulled off the helmet. She placed the helmet on her desk, swiping her finger across the screen of the computer until the glitch happened. She almost gasped when she heard her father’s voice. It had managed to record the glitch. Quickly, she cropped and cut that sliver of recording and uploaded it to her memory chip, then sending it to Robb.

She stormed from the room to the kitchen where her grandmother sat gossiping with the neighbor. She glared at the old woman, chest swelling with hot air. “You lied to me!”

Her grandmother raised her brows, taking a sip of her coffee.

“You said father was safe! You said father couldn’t come home because he was on a water conservation project! What is going on?” She raged.

Her grandmother fixed her with a long look. “I don’t know what you are ta-”

(Y/N) stomped to the table and mashed her finger on the middle section of the tabletop, “Replay my last message sent Maxie!”

Her grandmother’s face fell as the message played back. There was silence for a long time before she turned her eyes to her granddaughter. “Sit child.”

(Y/N) fell heavily into her chair, arms crossed tightly over her chest, fixing her grandmother with a cold stare.

“Your father is a brilliant man. Too smart for his own good. He caught unwanted attention by greedy people. When the whole super soldier fad started up again about twenty years ago your father had made a breakthrough. Those kingpins, looking to make more money and their names in history forever, they bent your father’s arm. They took your mother away and…”

(Y/N) made a noise of distress, “The mob murdered mom?”

Her grandmother only gave a curt nod, taking a breath and continuing, “not wanting to lose you too, he submitted to the next man who came knocking. Roose Bolton. But, there was an accident. That involved you. Your father took you as quickly as possible and you both came here. Leaving everything behind. You were in a coma for a month. And when you woke up and couldn’t remember anything, we both breathed a sigh of relief. But, Roose Bolton is not a very forgiving man. So your father left me with instructions. To never tell you what happened. To tell you he had gone to work on a conservation project. But he never returned to the Bolton man. They showed up here looking for him, always keeping an eye on our home. But your father never came back.”

She gaped at the woman, “So you have no idea where the fuck he is?” She paused, “Sorry, Anne.”

The old neighbor lady at the table simply waved her hand dismissively, lighting a cigarette.

She turned her attention back to her grandmother who only shook her head. (Y/N) made another noise and slammed her palms down on the table, “What the fuck?!” she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, “What kind of accident?”

“I don’t know, baby. Your father never spoke of it. He just told me to never speak of any of it, or allow you to go back to the city.”

“Well, I’m going.” (Y/N) snarled.

“I know.” her grandmother said with a nod, “I would expect no less.”

(Y/N) rose from her chair, walking in a daze to her bedroom. She hardly remembered packing her things or anything she said or was said to her when she called Robb.

She had finished packing and laid in bed, much as she was now, falling into an uneasy sleep.

Again the same dream. But there was not much to be made from it. All she could see was a pair of deep blue eyes staring back at her and then nothing as the back of her mind would go cold and fuzzy.

**picture not mine. found on google

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kee-writestrashh · 6 years

Text

Dreams in Neon

Ramsay Bolton x Reader

*cyberpunk sci fi au

Ao3

words: 1013

*you guys! I did a thing and I am excited!*

Chapter one: Plug in, Online

“Run it again, then.” Roose said irritably, glaring down into the glass tumbler on the polished table before him.

“Mr. Bolton, I have done everything I can. How long has it been since the accident?” The man said tentatively, taking a seat across from Roose.

“Fifteen years.” Roose said with a bitter bite, motioning for the woman in the corner to refill his glass.

“M-maybe it is time to accept that he is immune to the engineering.”

“He killed my son! I was there! I saw the whole thing! And I want to know how he did it!” Roose shouted as he smashed the tumbler against the tabletop, losing his usual cool demeanor. He took a deep, slow breath through his nose, and exhaled just as slowly before speaking again, “Doctor Hornwood, do not fail me. Anything you need is at your disposal. Just find out what that bastard is capable of. All of those other idiots have mastered something. Even the mute is useful. You will find the link.”

“And my family?” Hornwood asked hesitantly, fidgeting with the cuff of his white lab coat.

“Depends on you. Quite literally.” Roose said, nodding to Locke, his most trusted bodyguard, who stood in front of the only exit in the room.

“Let’s finished gettin’ ya settled then shall we, doctah?” Locke said in false politeness, his sallow skin glowing horribly against his yellowed teeth.

Roose watched the two men leave before standing from his seat as his female assistant rushed forward to cleanup the mess of the shattered mess Roose left behind. He walked to the edge of the room and stared out the wall of glass, looking down on the glowing city bellow. The thick haze that always fell on the city making the neon lights blur and run together.

×××

‘Oh my God. Would you hurry up and stop hurting me you bastard?!’

He stopped mid thrust and glared down at the paid entertainment of the evening. He snatched her by the hair at the back of her head. She whimpered.

“The fuck you just say to me?” he hissed, giving her head a violent shake, pulling himself away from her.

“What are you talking about? Please! You’re hurting me!” The blonde woman cried, bringing sharp manicured nails to the back of her head to claw at his grip.

“Call me a bastard. Think it’s polite for a whore to call someone a bastard?” he whispered dangerously, pulling her up straight from her bent over position on the back of the couch.

“Ramsay, please! I would never call you a bastard! I didn’t say anything!” the whore pleaded, still clawing at his grip.

“Don’t you fucking lie to me.” Ramsay snapped, half pulling his pants back up with his free hand and dragging the woman by the hair to the kitchen, as she did her best to fight back. He gave a quick glance around, eyes falling first on the knife block. But no. That was less than she deserved. He drug her to the sink, ignoring her insistent pleas and whimpers.

Ramsay mashed the sink plug in its hole, giving a brief thought to trying out that garbage disposal. But he simply turned the hot water on and hummed to himself, hand beginning to ache from the grip he held on whatever-her-name-was, wondering if she had actually, outwardly called him a bastard or if maybe his high was wearing off and it made him trippy. However, he didn’t fuss about it too much as he shoved the woman’s head into the hot water, his trademark smirk upon his face as he held onto her tighter, pushing her head in further. She struggled harder, those nails tearing at his skin until the blood trickled in thick droplets. And it was like some kind of bliss as he pushed his whole weight into her, making her incapable of escape, until finally, her body went limp. He gave another small thought to finishing himself off before leaving, yet, he found himself feeling suddenly ill.

He dropped his grip from the dead bitch, where she slid to the floor with a heavy, dull wet thud and dried his hands off on her kitchen towel, examining the gashes in his arms and the tops of his hands before fixing himself in his pants, pulling out his cigarettes and walking out of the apartment. He half jogged down the steps, lighting his cigarette as he reached the bright red neon lights of the street. It was a busy Friday night. The whores aplenty, and the men and women with the money. This side of town held anyone's desires. Man, woman, human, non human, flesh and bone, or robotic.

He let the crowd sweep him away in the comings and goings. He had nowhere to be in a hurry tonight. He didn’t often have nights to himself. But here he was. He reached in his pocket to extract the thin sheet of glass cell phone, grinning down at it, remembering how only this morning he and the Boys were laughing at how stupid phones were back in the 2330s. However, as he made to message Damon it felt as if his mind were being crushed on all sides. As though every single person around him were screaming in his ears. Vision blurred and he had the urge to be violently sick.

Stumbling like a drunk, he removed himself from the crowd, leaning against a wall and panting hard. He swallowed thickly, closing his eyes tight. And just like that, everything was normal again.

[Damon: hey. I’m in Little Sunspear. Some weird shit just happened. Idk. Maybe I’m just coming down off shit bad or something. But I feel sick af. Come make sure I get home okay.]

He blinked again, glancing up and down the street again. What the fuck had just happened? Maybe he really should stop the drugs. But, if he only knew that on the other side of the city a woman just stepped off a subway feeling almost exactly the same in the same moment.

**i do not own image. found on google.

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kee-writestrashh · 6 years

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Update

Hey guys, if you haven’t seen it already, I have a new fic up! It’s called Dreams in Neon. Now I know what y’all are thinking, FINISH GUNS FOR HIRE!!!

Yes, yes. I know, I know!! It is coming. All 3 final chapters will drop at once. Because I feel bad for making you guys wait. Especially as I have started a handful of other projects. But my mind just gets to going and I can’t help it. But I am hella stoked for Dreams in Neon. I NEEDED some cyberpunk things. And the plot is great. And I’m excited to share it with you all.

As I work on the end of Guns for Hire and get it ready for posting, I am also working on Dreams in Neon, and these fics: I Will Cherish You, Bloodbath Rose, Seven Deadly Sins, Welcome to the Family, and To Marry a Bastard.

But I hope you guys get real excited for Dreams in Neon, because there will be much bedlam. And as always, many typical Ramsay things. I am working diligently on GfH. I had many loose ends to tie up and moods to set, so it’s taking me awhile to make it perfect with you guys. But I will only give quality to my readers.

-kee

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kee-writestrashh · 6 years

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Seven Deadly Sins

Ramsay Bolton & The Bastard’s Boys

Ao3

Summary: A 7 Part collection of one shots about Ramsay and each of the men he is close to and their associated deadly sin.

Words: 1032

Warnings: Murder

Chapter one:

Envy: Ramsay the Bastard Son

Ramsay Bolton was a great deal of things. But the thing he was the most was a beast of ENVY. Every word that could be associated with the word Envy was exactly what Ramsay was. But did it go without reason? Unlike most, Ramsay had a very disappointing childhood. A product of rape and murder. A depressed, strung out mother who dumped him on the doorsteps of his father's lavish manor. His father though... his father despised him more than even his mother had. And Roose had made a point in reminding Ramsay, that he was no more than a waste of time and space. Because he would never amount to what Domeric Bolton was. A legitimate son. The firstborn. The prodigy. But if only people could see that this BASTARD was so much more. But they wouldn't, would they Ramsay?

Ramsay had vowed to himself that he would never let anyone be better than he was. Because they did not deserve to ever be better than him. He was the best. He would prove he was the best. He would take and take, until finally, he was the one on top. Because the sickness of Envy is what filled his lungs with every breath he drew. Ramsay would take whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Women, drugs, hell, he had even taken a man's watch once, simply because it was better than the one he currently had.

But the pasts envies were nothing to the plan that had been stewing in his mind for some time now. His jealousy of his older half brother was screaming like a demon inside of him. He had to quiet it. Domeric had what he, Ramsay, wanted-- no, what he NEEDED. If Domeric were gone... well, his father would have to give him those things he needed. Though, he knew it would never satisfy that envious demon inside of him. Eventually, it would need to feed again. He would still not have enough. There would still be people to covet and be jealous of.

However, those ideas meant nothing now. Ramsay lived for the moment. And at the moment, Envy spoke to him in the form of a golden liquid in a syringe. With evil golden eyes, like the hungriest of wolves in winter when the snows silence the world around them, and the food is scarce. Tonight... Tonight Ramsay would let Envy carry him to those things in which he coveted the most. Power. Titles. Status. Tonight, Ramsay would become the only Bolton son.

Domeric had paraded around enough with his status. Domeric did not deserve it. Domeric did not deserve to be a Bolton. Domeric was weak and embarrassing!

They say that Envy is associated with the color green, but they also say that Envy is linked to the animal, dog. The irony, as people often referred to Ramsay as the Mad Dog. But did they understand the magnitude of that name? That it was more than just a craziness? That it was more than psychological instability? That Ramsay Bolton was ruled by that hateful bitch Envy and he powerful jaws? And tonight, the bitch was hungry.

The sigh of relief as the needle was withdrawn and the high blew his pupils. How best to take those things he wanted? Those things his brother had. Those things that he would have...

The ideas chasing one another in his mind as he stuffed his gun in the waist of his pants. There was never a second thought. No shoulder angel begging him to not give into the blindness of Envy. That she was not worth the taking of a life. Bastard's CAN rise high. All he had to do was dispose of those in his way. No longer would he be second best. Not longer would he be jealous of the man who was taking everything away from him. Oh no. The sin of Envy lit the path as he walked through the door of his brother's flat.

He curled his lip in resentment as he looked around at all the things his elder brother had. All these reminders of the things he wanted, needed, and deserved. If there had been any voice of reason in him, Envy had made sure quash it as Ramsay came face to face with his brother. The last thing that left Domeric's lips before Ramsay pulled the trigger was his little brother's name.

And that made Envy roar in triumph. That's right, Ramsay. Ramsay fucking Bolton. The best of the best. Jealous no more. On top. Finally. It was such a sweetness to see Domeric there, drowning in his own blood. Blood that had once been considered better than Ramsay's. The light in his eyes slowly fading away.

"It's not fair is it, brother? To have to look up to me. To realize that I am better than you. To envy the fact that I am on top. That I can breathe. That I will walk away from here, and you will not." Ramsay said gently, kneeling down to stroke his brother's hair with one hand, the other reaching for his knife in his pocket. Domeric tried to swallow, struggling to get away from Ramsay. But Ramsay gripped his fingers in Domeric's hair tightened, holding him there. "Remind them when you get to those pearly gates that Ramsay BOLTON sent you." He sneered.

With a quick motion he drove the knife into Domeric's throat. Over and over again. The blood flowing. How thick and warm, and how the color was so damn beautiful. Laughing manically as he dropped the knife, covering his hands in the copious amount of blood on the floor. How good it felt. How wonderful it was to feed this monstrosity inside him. To remind the world that Envy was in charge. Envy got you want you wanted. In the end. He was one step closer to gaining all those things he coveted so greatly. The only question was, how quiet was Envy going to be until it was time to climb the ladder again? How long would Envy remain full until it was time to throw Roose Bolton down into the pit of despair?

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