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januaryembrs · 1 year

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MASTERMIND | Theon Greyjoy x Bolton!reader

Request: @marsconer says - hii!! hru? the requests are still open? if so i can request for a theon one, with mastermind by taylor swift as a prompt?

description: You knew you wanted him, none of it was accidental. Theon had no idea the Bolton bastards were masterminds.

Word count: 1.1k

trigger warnings: dark!reader. reader is not mentally well and believes Theon loves her even though he doesn't know her. RAMSAY KINDNESS? Ramsay loving the Reader as her brother. hints of Theon's torture.

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authors notes: First I'm so sorry this is so late to be published things have taken a turn in my life and writing has had to be put on the back burner. but I'm back! and I'm trying something new, I've never done a dark reader before. I hope this was okay! I feel like its not but I'm trying :)

You knew you wanted him the moment you set your eyes on the Stark’s ward.

He wouldn’t recognise you, how could he? The last time you’d ever seen him he was a teenager, too busy chasing girls in pretty skirts and competing with Robb for the fair maiden’s attention to take note of such a plain, quiet girl like you.

Ramsay noticed you staring almost immediately. Being your older brother, possibly the only person in the world who understood you and loved you since you were both Bolton bastards, he was determined to give his sweet, little monster anything she wanted.

“He’s caught your eye, sister?” His ice-blue eyes followed your entranced gaze to see the scrawny Greyjoy boy, too busy yanking a maid’s pigtails to notice you looking. His eyebrows furrowed, “Are you sure you don’t want someone stronger? Someone who could protect you and whatever babes you give him,”

“He has a kind face,” The maid squealed, and noble Ned Stark leant forward to smack both Rob and Theon across the ears to set them in place. “You will get him for me one day, won’t you Ramsay?”

Ramsay looked down at you from your place at the back of the dining hall. Being bastard children, you were not permitted to sit with your father beside the noblemen. Instead, you were among the last to collect your supper, drank the dregs of the wine the other Stark council did not consume, sat near the chill of the open windows. You had less in this world one might think for those born to a nobleman like Roose, but Ramsay had always made sure you had the best he could get, even if it meant getting his knuckles bloodied as it did most of the time.

“Of course, sweet-hearted. Anything you want is yours. When you’re of age to marry, he will be yours,” He smiled with too many teeth as he always did, making his face look sinister to others, but to you he was your dearest brother. The only one who understood the way your mind worked, in a way that others would call twisted you called unique.

Watching Theon Greyjoy that day, you knew your brother would never fail you.

Ramsay made good on his promise as he always did. A few days after your ten and eighth birthday, he led you down to the lower passages of Dreadfort claiming he had a present for you. You had never quite forgotten about the Stark’s ward. But with the chaos the people were now calling the war of five kings, you had some trouble keeping up with his whereabouts. He had betrayed the Starks, killed the youngest two boys, boys he had grown up with like brothers, all for his own gain of power.

Nothing could make you so certain he was perfect for you. A man who would stab his company in the back in the name of helping his genuine family was exactly the man you wanted.

You had always known he would be special, that he would understand the way your mind ticked. While everyone called you cruel, he would love you the way you loved him.

So when he led you to Dreadfort dungeons, and there was Theon Greyjoy, strung to a flaying cross, you felt your heart swell in excitement.

“For you, my dear sister. Just as I always promised,” Ramsay presented the man, who looked scruffier than the last time you had seen him, just a few months before the war started. Again you had been just a fly on the wall in Winterfell, but this time was different. This time he would know who you were, know just as well as you did you were perfect for each other.

You squealed, squeezing your brother around the waist in a tight hug. “I knew you could do it, I knew you would never disappoint me,”

“Please help me!” Theon begged, though his words fell on deaf ears as you moved closer to him, “Please let me go, I’m not supposed to be here,”

“Of course you are, silly,” You said, reaching up to unbind his arm. You were smiling at him almost too wide, a crazed look in your eye that you shared with your brother, as though this was all a part of a bigger plan he knew nothing about.

Theon was sure he had seen you before, sure he had felt those two eyes piercing his skull many a time before. But he didn’t know you.

“W-what?” Theon asked, as his first hand was let free, and you began to undo the second, “What do you mean? I need to leave, I need to find my father,”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you just got here. We need to arrange the wedding first,” You said simply, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. Poor Theon was confused, and his battered face said as much.

“Wedding? What wedding?”

“Ours, of course,” You replied, working away at the knots in the rope. Theon looked over your shoulder to see Ramsay’s face full of a silent fury, as though he was warning him against upsetting the woman who was trying to free him.

But Theon being Theon was lost, curious. He was disoriented and tired and hungry, and you were making no sense. “Ours?” He cried in shock, “But, I have no idea who you are,”

You froze before the knot could be pulled free and immediately Theon felt the mistake he had made fall over the room in deadly silence.

Your eyes snapped to him, and the manic look was gone, replaced by pure hurt. “You don’t know who I am?”

“Should I?” Theon felt Ramsay’s eyes darken in the shadows of the dungeon. If what he had said before had been a mistake, then those two words felt like a death sentence.

Your bottom lip started quivering. All you had ever wanted, ever dreamed of was fading right in front of your eyes. You were supposed to be his, the way he had always been yours.

“Come, sister,” Ramsay jumped in, tucking you under his arm and leading you to the dungeon door, “I will have a word with your dearest fiance, I fear he is feeling a bit under the weather at the moment,” You retreated away from the Greyjoy boy, knowing sweet Ramsay would fix everything for you as he promised. “Let me have a word with him, make sure he remembers to cherish you even in his sickness,”

You nodded solemnly, your sad eyes never leaving Theon’s fear stricken face as he realised the hidden threat in your brother’s words.

And within moments, the door was closed and he was left with the vengeful face of Ramsay Snow, and Theon wanted for nothing more than to have you back near him, promising him the world.

#theon x reader #theon greyjoy x reader #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones fanfiction #Theon Greyjoy imagine #Theon Greyjoy blurb #Theon Greyjoy fanficiton #stars' 1k follower shebang

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in-my-feels-probably · 1 year

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I just realised I forgot to send a request!! silly sausage hours fr ✌🏻😔

anywho! if it is at all interesting to you, I was wondering if you’d like to write a Protective!Jon x Short!S/O based piece?? can be whatever you want, a blurb, headcannon, imagine - whatever idea comes to you based on this very vague prompt cuz I want to give you all the creative wiggle room to do what you want to do!!

could be something about the Short!S/O getting hurt defending Jon when someone talks shit about him or Jon sees/finds out his S/O was being harassed/had been touched without consent in any way and he sees RED, could be anything at all!! just some real good protective Jon Snow content pretty please 🥺💗

but, all the same, if this idea doesnt grab you then please do not feel at all pressured in writing it, it’s completely up to you!! no hard feelings 🤗

I wish you the most wonderful rest of your day!! ♡

That’s My Girl

Request: if it is at all interesting to you, I was wondering if you’d like to write a Protective!Jon x Short!S/O based piece?? can be whatever you want, a blurb, headcannon, imagine - whatever idea comes to you based on this very vague prompt cuz I want to give you all the creative wiggle room to do what you want to do!! could be something about the Short!S/O getting hurt defending Jon when someone talks shit about him or Jon sees/finds out his S/O was being harassed/had been touched without consent in any way and he sees RED, could be anything at all!! just some real good protective Jon Snow content pretty please

Hi! Thank you for the request, I'm sorry for the long wait. This is my first time writing for Jon! I’m hoping this is what you were looking for, but if not. Just let me know and I'd be able to fix it or write you something else.

I love Jon, I'm happy to write for him. To make sense of the story, the reader is technically a Bolton, and a sister to Ramsey. I set this around season 5-6. I hope you enjoy it!

(Warnings: swearing, violence, a fight, mentions of blood and wounds, slight sexual harassment, gross men, let me know if i missed anything)

—

The Wall was not a good place for a woman. That fact, you knew all too well.

Women weren’t allowed at the wall, regardless of station or reason. This was a fact your family knew, and a fact they ignored.

You were born to a handmaiden, fathered by Roose Bolton. When you entered the early stages of being a woman, Lord Bolton legitimized you, and sent you to Winterfell to learn the ways of being a Lady. He figured you may be useful to him one day, someone he could marry off for an advantage.

Winterfell was where you met Jon Snow. He had always liked you. While you were technically a Bolton, you lived more than half of your life as a Snow. You were no longer legally a bastard, but you felt like one anyway.

Jon knew the feeling, and you became quite close throughout your years, before he left for the Wall and the rest of the Starks left as well.

You lived through the Greyjoy Rebellion, when Theon came and took Winterfell. You received word from your father, and were asked to stay anyways. After Robb’s death, the Bolton’s officially took over the castle.

Despite your father being named Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, he was no family to you. You’d never see him as such. Instead, the Northern folk who had lived in the city since the reign of the Starks took care of you, always there to be a friend if you needed them.

They were your true family. Them, and the Starks, although you hadn’t seen any of them in years. Most of them were dead.

When Lord Bolton died and his position was passed to the newly legitimized Ramsay Bolton, the families that had helped you sent you away for your own safety.

With you being the last legitimate Bolton, other than Ramsey, you challenged the claim to the North, despite being a woman. The North liked you more, and Ramsay was afraid they’d rebel if he allowed you to live.

You went to the Wall, seeking asylum.

You reconnected with Jon, who had recently been named Lord Commander. He allowed you to stay, despite the rules he was meant to follow.

But if he had allowed the Wildlings passage, he could allow you to stay as well.

To appease the men, you worked as a stewardess, making up for being another mouth to feed and for filling a bed in the single room. The only other empty single room, next to the Lord Commander’s suite.

It got easier as the weeks passed, and you slipped into a routine that was comfortable enough.

Sometimes, the men were a little rough with you. It was if they forgot you were a woman, not remembering to be gentler with you.

Others never forgot you were a woman, keeping their eyes on you at all times.

This occurred on opposite ends of the spectrum, one end containing men like Jon, Edd, and Sam, and the other containing men like Ser Allister, who hated you being there, as well as the men who wouldn’t hesitate to do you harm.

You knew those who followed Jon would keep an eye on you, never allowing true harm to come your way, but you still kept your guard up most of the time. In between doing your duties, you trained with the men, learning combat skills.

It reminded you of the times in Winterfell as children, when Jon would sneak you out of lessons with the Septa to train with him.

You were quite short, compared to the women of your age. Jon was on the shorter side too, in comparison to other men, but he could hold his own well enough. He wanted you to be able to do the same, so he wouldn’t have to worry as much about your safety.

You had gotten quite good at it, especially with the refresher at the Wall, and you were confident enough that you could handle yourself.

That didn’t mean you necessarily wanted to. If you could avoid it, you’d try and keep to yourself for most of the day, ignoring the men you didn’t like. But some of them made it quite hard on you.

“Lady Snow,” Ser Alliser taunted, coming into the kitchen where you were scrubbing pots. “Where’s your Commander? Figured he would’ve sent one of his watchdogs to come guard you, considering he isn’t here to do it himself.”

“He’s just as much your Commander as he is mine,” you replied, not looking up to dignify him with a reaction.

“That may be,” he said, taking a step towards you. He stopped in his tracks when he heard a growl coming from behind you, and saw a white beast stepping out from behind your legs.

“You’re right, My Lord,” you said, leaning over to scratch behind Ghost’s ears. “Jon did leave me unattended. Although, I expect a direwolf is as good of a watchdog as any man here. Would you like to test that theory? Come closer, then.”

Ghost snarled at Ser Alliser, making him take a step back. He glared at you, retreating to the door.

“You don’t belong here, Snow. You’ll come to see that soon.”

“Thank you for that,” you called, returning back to your work. “You can piss off now.”

—

Later that day, much to your annoyance, another group of some of the men tried your patience again.

It was before dinner, when you had just finished up with your duties for the day. You had just brought Ghost his dinner, and were returning to the hall to eat, when three men cornered you in the courtyard.

“What do you want?” You asked, unimpressed.

“We want you to go,” one replied, making you roll your eyes.

The one closest to you nodded in agreement. “We didn’t vote for Jon to be the Commander.”

“You’re lucky you have him—“

He cut you off, his tone more aggressive. “Are we? So far, in the weeks he’s been Commander, he let the Wildlings through our gates. Now, he’s let a girl in.”

“That’s your problem? Ser Alliser almost let the Wall fall because of his own pride,” you spat, growing angry. “He should have listened to Jon when he had the chance. It cost us lives.”

“Us? There’s no us, you’re not one of us,” the man on the right finally spoke. His voice was significantly higher than he looked like he would sound, making you chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” The middle man asked.

“All of you,” you replied. “You’re very amusing to watch. Pathetic, really.”

“Watch your tone, bitch,” the man closest to you said. “Nobody wants to hear your mouth. As far I’m concerned, a woman has two purposes. Popping out kids, and warming my bed. Would you be interested in either?

You raised a brow, clenching your fists at your sides. He smirked, taking a step closer to you.

“What? Cat got your tongue, bitch? Not brave enough to say something without your useless Lord Commander there to save you?”

You couldn’t contain yourself any longer, swinging and cracking your knuckles across his jaw. You swung again before he could recover, smashing your fist into the bridge of his nose. He faltered back this time, landing on his ass.

“What?” You smirked, flexing your hand. “Cat got your tongue?”

He snarled, standing up. The other two tried to hold him back, afraid of what would happen if they actually hurt the Lord Commander’s girl, but they weren’t strong enough. He broke through, shaking them off.

Before you could take a step back, you felt a palm strike across your cheek, stinging the flesh. His ring caught on your cheekbone, cutting a small slit.

You brought a hand up to your face in shock, balling your hand into a fist, but he caught your wrist in the air, squeezing it tight. You gasped in pain, whimpering.

“What are you gonna do now?” He asked, wiping the blood from his nose.

“Let me go,” you said, trying to pull away. “Let me go, or you’ll regret it.”

“Yeah? Why’s that? What are—“

“Hey!”

You turned your heads across the yard to see Edd standing near the kennel door, Ghost standing next to his side. Ghost snarled, looking ready to pounce.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Let her go!” He said, bounding towards you.

You felt the man let go of your wrist, and heard their footsteps retreating as Edd approached you. You rubbed your wrist, reaching down to run a hand through Ghost’s fur when he got to your side.

“Hey, boy,” you muttered, then turning to Edd. “What are you doing? Why’d you let Ghost out?”

“He was pawing at the door, whining, I heard him all the way from the watchtower. He wouldn’t stop till I let him out. He ran out here, and I followed him. What happened, what did they do to you?”

You shook your head. “It’s alright, I’m fine.”

“Your cheek is red and scratched, and your wrist is already bruising. You’re not fine. Jon is gonna raise hell when he sees it. Not that you couldn’t handle your own, but what were you thinking? Three against one isn’t good odds to start throwing punches.”

You groaned, casting your eyes on the ground. Edd sighed, placing his hand on your shoulder.

“Come on, then. He’s still in his office, and everyone else is in the dining hall. I’ll take you halfway, and keep everyone occupied till you’re ready to come back.”

“But—“

“No buts. Jon would have my head if I didn’t take you to him straight away. You’re going.”

You relented, giving him a grateful nod as he led the way. He left you halfway, as promised. You walked the rest of the way yourself, only hesitating when you found yourself outside of Jon’s office.

Sighing, you went in.

He was at his desk, his head down. He shuffled through papers, sorting through everything on his desk. You slowly approached, wringing your hands together.

“Jon,” you said softly.

“I’m almost done, love, give me a minute.”

You internally groaned, preparing yourself for the painful conversation you were about to have. You spoke again.

“Jon.”

“What?” He sighed, looking up, only to drop his things at the sight of you. “Y/N?”

He hurriedly stood, pushing his chair back and bounding around his desk to stand in front of you, cupping your jaw in his hands. You grimaced as he turned your head, inspecting your cheek more closely. He was absolutely fuming, practically shaking with rage.

His voice was eerily calm. “Who?”

“Jon—“ You started, but he cut you off.

“Y/N…who?”

“I don’t even know their names, you’ll have to ask Edd,” you relented. “It was three men. He stopped them.”

“What happened?”

“The same as usual. They don’t like that I’m here, they don’t like that you’re Lord Commander, and they think I’m making it worse for everyone being with you.”

“That’s not true—“

“I know,” you immediately said, sighing. “I know. And normally, I ignore them, or stay calm till they get bored and eventually leave me alone. But this time, I just got too angry. It wasn’t just me they were insulting, it was you, too.”

Jon seethed as he listened to you talk, moving from your cheek to inspect your wrist. The bruise had settled to a garish green.

“He threatened me, and I swung. I don’t know why I did it, but he went down. Obviously, he didn’t take very kindly to being hit by a girl, as you can see.”

“You don’t hit a woman,” Jon said, cradling your face in his palms, gently wiping away the dry blood on your cheek. “I’ll find them. I’ll find them, and they’ll wish they’d never laid eyes on you. The noose is too good for them.”

You leaned your forehead against his, trying to calm him down.

“I’m alright, Jon. I’m alright. That’s enough, for now.”

He took a deep breath as he rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. You ran a comforting hand over his, drawing circles with your thumb over the back of it.

“You can’t fight my battles for me, darling. You can’t get yourself hurt because of me.”

You shook your head, almost grinning. “Why not? You do it for me.”

“You’re too pretty for scars,” he mused, caressing your cheeks.

“So are you,” you agreed, tracing your finger across the one that had faded to a thin white line, just over his brow. “And yet you fight for me. It’s only fair that I do the same for you.”

Jon sighed, looking down at you with soft and loving eyes. “So, what did he look like?”

“What?” You asked, shaking your head in confusion.

“The other guy. What did he look like?”

“Worse,” you grinned proudly. “Much worse. I think I broke his nose. And his jaw is sure to be hurting for the next few days.”

Jon smiled, holding you by the waist and pulling you into him. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, breathing you in.

“That’s my girl.”

—

A/N - Hi! Sorry that this is on the shorter side, I hope you still like it. I enjoyed writing it. Let me know what you think!

#game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagine #jon snow #jon snow imagine #jon snow x reader

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