#Theon greyjoy x you
Text
˗ˏˋ For all eternity ´ˎ˗
Theon Greyjoy x stark!reader oneshot
𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧
Warnings: angst, veeery briefly mentioned light smut, death, hurt no comfort, violence, lil bit of gore/ blood ? kinda cringe honestly, Horrible writing, 08x03 spoilers but I changed the episode's plot a little
Summary: I guess there’s nothing more romantic than dying in your lovers arms <3
Word count: ~ 2.6k
A/N: my first fanfic!! English is not my first language so excuse any mistakes. enjoyyy the angst babies <3
𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧
The Godswood. Considerably the most beautiful place in all of Winterfell. It had an almost calming effect on you. The beautiful weirwood tree with its blood red leaves, surrounded by more trees and bushes. It’d look even more serene in winter. The painting worthy beauty of the snow silently falling from an endless gloomy sky, coating the world in a small layer of cold white. Sometimes you’d sit on one of the center tree’s branches with a paper and feather in hand, painting the snowflakes that landed on the back of your hand before they would melt away on your warm skin in a matter of seconds. You also loved the stillness of the forest. If you ever felt like you needed space from everything and everyone around you, you’d simply go out and sit with the trees. You’d see your younger self running, chasing your siblings around the tree in the center and laughing together when one of you would trip.
Theon would always know to find you there. If you’d let him, he’d sit with you and just listen. You knew he really cared. Theon was the only person, other than your siblings, you could trust with anything. He truly loved you with all his heart and you loved him. You tried hard to hide it in the beginning, knowing your Father would not be happy if you married Theon rather than a successful, rich king like the other noble girls did.
𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.
Robb and Jon knew the second they saw Theon and you talking together in the Godswood. They knew by the way he looked at you and how his eyes would linger on yours. They knew by the way his hand would brushed against yours or how he would blush every time your name came up. Jon especially knew when Theon stopped bedding every woman that stepped foot into the Winterfell castle. He only had eyes for you and he made sure you knew that every single day.
'The prettiest Stark' he would call you. Robb always acted dramatically offended every time he’d overhear Theon say it. It was no use trying to hide your feelings from another. So you didn’t.
You still vividly remember the first time you kissed him. It was the night of your 19th Name day. He took you back to your room and wanted to say goodnight as you leaned into him, lips meeting. His eyes widened in surprise for a few seconds but he melted into you right away. God, he’s been wanting that for a very long time. His hand cupped your cheek as the both of you stumbled into your chamber. He started messily taking off your clothes and gently laid you down on your bed, continuing to kiss you. Looking back, that night feels almost like a hazy dream. Like something you wanted for so long and then you finally got it.
Theon taught you how to fight, even though your father strictly forbid it, saying “it isn’t Lady like to wield swords and fight men”. Theon didn’t care about what other people thought of him, as long as he was yours.
𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.
Now everything seemed like a distant memory. What once was, can never be again. You knew you would die tonight. You knew and you were prepared. Your last night with your Ironborn lover was filled with nothing but love. You made sure every inch of his body knew you were grateful for him. Kissing him everywhere from his head down to his neck, hips and thighs. You didn’t want a single inch of him to not feel worshipped and longed for.
After hours and hours of fighting for not only your life but that of the people you loved, you were now standing back to back with Theon, trying everything to protect your brother Bran from the White Walkers and the Army of the Dead, who you were completely surrounded by. They took small steps towards the two of you, slowly caging you in further. Frantically looking around, you swung your sword in a way of trying to tell them to stay away.
They all suddenly stopped.
Your wide eyes looked back at Theon confused, your brows furrowing.
“What are they doing?” He asked you with a two thousand yard stare,
You shrugged your shoulders at his question.
Then all of a sudden there was movement. Some of the Dead opened the circle they surrounded you in to show you who was leading the attack. The White Walkers. At least a dozen of them. This was it. This was the moment your entire life led up to… your death. It seemed almost ironic that it was in the Godswood. A place you've cherished ever since you were a little child. Oh how naïve you were then, you thought. Little Y/N would never understand what was about to happen but neither would you, probably.
You stared at the Knight King only a couple of feet away from you, him staring back at you. He didn’t speak, determination set deep in his cold, blue, piercing eyes. He wants to kill Bran and everything that stood in his way; to erase everything that had to do with the past. Everything that you were or ever will be. You couldn’t let him. You had to win this fight or die trying.
Theon was close by your side. You shared a look. It spoke more than thousand words or thousand languages. A look that said 'You know what’s coming next. Please, don’t be scared, I’m here with you.'
“Thank you.” You heard Bran say behind you, both Theon and you turning around.
“You are a good man, Theon. Take good care of my sister.” Theon nodded at him, his eyes welling up.
“In another lifetime.” You turned to look at Theon with teary eyes to see him already looking at you. “What a time it has been with you”
All you wanted to do now was crash your lips against Theon’s and give him a kiss that would last all eternity. A loud selfish voice in your head told you to just grab his hand and run far, far, far away from here. Leave everyone behind to be with Theon.
‘Run. Run now, before it’s too late. You’re not dead yet.‘
The voice spoke again and as much as you might’ve wanted to, you couldn’t. You couldn’t break now. Thousands of men gave their life to protect Bran. It wouldn’t be fair to either them, nor your beloved brother or your other siblings. Hell, you didn’t even know wether they were still alive. They might already all be part of the Dead, long forgotten and coming to tear you apart and make you join them. To say that you were scared was an underestimation. You thought you were prepared to give your life but now standing face to face with death, everything felt so helpless.
“My heart is yours forever, Theon Greyjoy” you said as you turned your face away from him and set your eyes on the White Walkers before you. You wondered if that right there was the last time you’d ever look at Theon. You didn’t want to think about it, it hurt too much.
Your grip around your dragon glass sword tightened, as you gritted your teeth and began to walk towards the Knight King with big strides. Time seemed to slow down as Theon watched you leap at the Leader of the Dead. He whispered silent prayers.
"Let her be okay and let them take me instead." He repeated it like a mantra.
You let out a scream as the blade of your sword came inches from piercing his icy blue skin. He looked deep into your eyes, as his hand found it’s way to your neck, before your weapon could ever come in contact with his skin. Your body was dangling in the air, your feet kicking wildly like a deer caught in a trap, desperate for an escape. A small smile of triumph appeared on the White Walkers lips when you dropped your sword. You let out a strangled choke as his second hand wrapped around your throat, cutting off your air. You tried clawing at his hands and face but no use. You were soon to join his Army of the Dead.
Theon watched frozen in horror as the Knight King slowly but surely started suffocating you. Without one more moment of hesitance he charged at the creature that was about to take you from him. Everything happened in the matter of seconds. You were roughly tossed aside and immediately took a deep breath as you felt the cold winter air enter your lungs again. A feeling you almost thought forgotten in the previous moments. Having hit your head while being tossed to the side, you were feeling disoriented and dizzy for a few short moments. The metallic taste in your mouth made you spit. The red seeping into the white of the snowy forest ground.
A loud squelch sound snapped you back into reality. Your head shot up as your eyes widen in horror. You watched as the Knight King plunged Theon’s broken spear into his abdomen. A place where your body rested on top of, only a few hours prior. You let out a gut wrenching scream as your tears spilled freely from your eyes. Theon’s eyes locked with yours. You could see his trembling lips parting, trying to tell you something before blood spilled from his mouth.
He started coughing and you didn’t waste a second in picking up a dragon glass dagger from one of the dead soldiers around you and running up to the King once more. This time you managed to catch him off guard and sinked the dagger deep into the left side of his neck. You twisted it, before pulling it out and ramming it back in his throat again. The Night King roared in pain, which almost sounded like a wounded animal. But no pain of his would ever compare to losing Theon. You, along with every soldier of the Army of the Dead fell to the ground. You watched as every single White Walker turned into icy shards, perishing completely.
You killed the Knight King, all the other White Walkers, the Army of the Dead and saved Bran. You did what you were supposed to. You saved the seven kingdoms. But you couldn't think about that right now. Not when Theon was bleeding out just a few feet from you. None of it will ever matter if he’s not by your side.
He can’t die. He can’t die. He can’t die. He can’t die. He can’t die. He can’t die. He can’t die. He can’t die. He can’t die. He can’t die. He can’t die. He can’t die. He can’t die. He can’t die. He can’t die. He can’t die. He can’t die. He can’t die. He can’t die.
You kept repeating those 3 words in your head over and over, trying hard to convince yourself that everything was just a cruel nightmare.
You called out his name as you ran to his side, gently picking up his head and placing it on your thighs.
"I'm here with you. Don't you worry, You'll be alright" You told him as you caressed his cheek. He looked up at you through teary eyes, knowing his end was near. His brows scrunched up in pain and he coughed up more of his blood. You started applying pressure to his stab wound, just like Brienne always taught you. Her words rang through your head 'Y/N, if you ever get hurt, you need to stop the bleeding, as best as you can. Stop the bleeding, stay awake and get help.'
"HELP ME PLEASE. SOMEONE, oh god- I NEED HELP!!" you screamed as loud as you could, hoping someone- anyone would hear your desperate cries.
"You need to stay awake for me, okay? We'll be alright, i just need you to hold on a little longer. I promise you will be okay, i promise you..." But your words rang hollow. You felt Theon's bloody hand on your cheek and you looked at him. Really looked at him. He is tired. His face pale, his eyes glassy and his hand shaking. He just smiled at you and gripped your face a bit tighter, fearing he would lose the feeling in his hands soon as they slightly began to tingle. Your face, now covered in his blood from his hand, leaned into his touch. You kissed his hand.
"I don't- I can't lose you, Theon. I can't."
"shhh. It's alright Y/N. I promise you I’ll find you in every lifetime…"
“No, you don’t need to. You have me in this lifetime-“
His smile never faltered.
“I love you, Theon.” You said, the world becoming a blur through teary eyes.
You leaned down to kiss him. You didn’t want it to be your last kiss. You thought about all the lasts you experienced in the past days without even knowing it. Yesterday was the last time you would fall asleep and wake up next to him. Two days ago was the last time you would ever draw him. Three days ago was the last time he would ever pick your favourite flowers for you. He would never attend another one of your Name days or train with you, sing, dance, laugh or cry with you. You noticed how short-lived your time with him was. If you wouldn’t have been so fucking stubborn, you could’ve told him how you felt sooner. You could’ve had him longer. You should’ve never allowed him to fight for Winterfell. He should’ve stayed on the Iron Islands with Yara. He should’ve left you to die here. You deserved it, not him.
He still held your face in his hands, tears falling down his cheeks.
“I love you. You are the best thing that has happened to me. I do not regret a thing- whe- when everything I did…led me into your arms.”
He was slowly choking on his own blood as he continued to cough violently, the red spilling from his lips.
You helplessly looked around, sobbing, screaming, waiting for a miracle to happen, but no god answered.
You cradled him in your arms, slowly rocking him back and fourth like a mother would with her child. You hand caressed his hair and his face and you forced yourself to smile at him
“It’s okay, it’s okay, my love. You can let go now. I’m safe.”
Every word broke you more than the last but that’s what he needed to hear. You are safe. You did it. You’ve won. Like Bran said, he’ll take care of you now, just not from here but rather from above.
You felt his body go limp in your arms. His eyes lost that little twinkle he always had, when looking at you. They were still open as he slowly grew colder in your arms. His usually rosy, warm skin turned into a soft blue beneath your fingertips. He no longer looked alive.
Your head sank into his chest as you sobbed your heart out. You screamed his name.
You faintly heard someone call out your name.
“Y/N? Y/N! Oh gods!” The voice turned into two voices. You jumped as you felt a hand on your shoulder and turned around to see Jon and Arya.
“Jon?” Your voice hoarse from all the screaming. “Jon, he’s dead,” you said without any emotion. You felt numb. Jon took you into his arms. Sansa came running to you and stopped dead in her tracks. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth in shock.
Jon apologized over and over, crying for the both of you. Sansa and Jon pulled you away from Theon’s body and hugged you again.
Theon Greyjoy was gone for all eternity and nothing could ever bring him back.
#game of thrones#theon greyjoy#theon greyjoy x reader#GoT#theon greyjoy x you#theon greyjoy imagine#theon greyjoy oneshot#asoiaf fic#theon Greyjoy angst#game of thrones angst#game of thrones x reader#theon/reader
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Can I please request a Dom!Theon with Sub!F reader smut!! Like the scene with Theon and Yara on the horse but continued later that night🥵 I love your writing!!
Theon Greyjoy*Give it Back
Pairing: Theon x f!reader
Word count: 1330
Warnings: teasing, enemies to lovers, make out, f! receiving oral, smut, 18+
A/n: this does deviate from your request a bit but I just couldn’t figure out how I wanted to do it that way so hope this dom theon works instead lol
Masterlist Here
You had arrived at Winterfell a couple of weeks ago with your family while they were conducting business with the Starks, but business was far from your mind. For some reason your mind had been taken over by some cocky, good for nothing, ridiculous, mean, pompous, gorgeous boy who somehow was so attractive despite his arrogance. You say this since the first time you met Theon, he tried to flex on who his father was and who he was and how great he was. You were half tempted to punch him in his very kissable face.
Instead, you decided to try ignoring him to curb your stares. “Look who it is,” Theon’s voice snapped you from your peace. You were sat at a table in the courtyard reading a book when you felt Theon’s arm fall over your shoulders, “Little lady sunshine,”
“Hello Greyjoy,” you said, refusing to take your eyes off your book.
“Leave off,” Robb laughed as he pulled Theon from you and moved to sit beside you. Theon quickly moved to sit across from you with Jon beside him. the three of them continued their conversation while you read, trying to ignore them all when suddenly.
“Hey!” Theon snatched your book. “Give it back!”
“Or what?” Theon snorted, “You’ll make me? I’d like to see you try,”
“Oh really?” you asked, standing up and pretending to be tough though you new it was a façade, “Give me it back,” you instructed again holding your hand out.
Theon laughed as he stood up, holding it out however just as you reached out, he snatched it back, “Or what?”
You sighed as you stepped over the bench and went to leave, “You are an ass Greyjoy,”
“Cmon,” he called after you. “Was only joking,”
You however ignored him as you rushed inside and decided to walk back to your room however you heard footsteps following you, “Hey wait!” you ignored Theon’s calls as you walked up the stairs with him coming closer to you. “Cmon I was only teasing,”
You turned round the corner heading to your chambers when you felt Theon grab your wrist, “Here you can have it back,” he said, holding the book out to you again.
This time you paused, sizing him up before suddenly trying to grab it but instead he just held it up out of your reach. You angrily sighed and went to storm down the corridor but Theon quickly caught back up, grabbing your wrist and turning you till your back was against the wall and he was stood in front of you, “You’re a feisty one,” he said and you hated the fact you were getting turned on by this asshole.
“Are you gonna give it to me or not?”
Theon smirked, stepping closer to you, “Well I could. If you asked nicely,”
“I’m talking about the book,”
“So am I,” he teased, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “Though we both know you want something else from me,” his lips across your cheeks till they hovered over your lips, “Go on. Tell me to go away and I will. Unless you don’t want me to that is,”
You felt your breath get caught in your throat then suddenly your lips moved up as if with a mind on their own as they pressed against his. Theon was shocked at first but soon melted into the kiss. His hand moved to hold himself up against the wall while yours moved to his shoulder, trailing down his arm then…
“Hey!” Theon protested as you snatched the book and ran down the corridor giggling. You managed to open your chamber door but as you went to shut it Theon held the door open, “You took my book,”
“It’s my book,”
“Says who?”
“Tells me,”
“Oh yeah?” he said, pushing his way into your room not that you were trying very hard to stop him, “Why’d you kiss me?” His question however caught you off guard as you tried to stutter a reply, but he continued speaking cutting you off, “If I didn’t know any better id say you like when I tease you. think I don’t notice it when you blush?”
“I don’t blush,” you mumbled, realising the door was shut.
Theon laughed, raising an eyebrow, “No you do. I see you do it. I see that cute little face of yours get all embarrassed when I rile you up,”
“You’re an ass,” you tried to say but he wrapped an arm around your back, pulling you flush against his chest making you gasp, “What are you doing?”
“What do you want me to do?” he asked, his eyes searching your face. You tried to avoid his gaze, but he used a finger to make you face him, “I asked you a question. Do you want me to leave? Or do you want me to show you how a Greyjoy does it?” he asked, his hot breath fanning your face.
Your lips really must have a mind of their own cause they were suddenly pressed to his again. You dropped the book, no longer caring about it as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His arms tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against him as his tongue ran over your bottom lip. When you didn’t open his hand suddenly moved to squeeze your ass. You gasped into the kiss and Theon took the opportunity.
Suddenly you felt him walking you towards the bed. Your knees hit the back of the frame and Theon only broke the kiss to push you to fall on your back on the bed. “What are you- “you tried to ask as he sunk to his knees in front of you, pulling you to the edge of the bed, “Theon- “
“Its my lord to you,” he instructed as he pushed up your skirts, “This is what you wanted isn’t it?” he asked, his hands wandering up your thighs, “Me in your chambers like a dirty little secret? Teasing you, touching you, making your eyes roll to the back of your skull?” he said before suddenly nipping your thighs making you gasp, “I asked a question,” he said with a pointed look.
“Yes, my lord,” you said though it was half a whimper when his head dipped down and you could suddenly feel his hot breath fanning your wet cunt, “Please Theon-I mean my lord. Please just fuck do something please,”
“That’s more like it,” he grinned, kissing your inner thigh, “Love it when you beg for me. Knew you were dirty, so I did. fucking love, it,” he said, his mouth moving further up till he placed a kiss to your clit making you moan.
He took this as encouragement however as his lips moved to lick over your clit, your hand shooting out to grab his hair as he did so. His tongue began to work wonders, massaging your bundle of nerves before moving down to your hole. You gasped when you felt it sink in, your legs moved to rest on his shoulders. Theon’s hands moved to grab your thighs, his fingernails sinking into your flesh as his nose began to nuzzle against your clit.
You couldn’t help the moans and whimpers that came from you especially not with a knot quickly tightening in your stomach. As you felt yourself come closer to the edge Theon moaned against your cunt, vibrations shooting down your spine as you felt your body tighten before you finally reached your peak while tugging on his curls. “Oh fuck, Theon,” you moaned, his tongue not stopping till you fell limp on the bed.
You were both panting as he came up for air with a grin on his now wet face, “So much for hating me,” he chuckled as he moved to lay on the bed beside you. he brushed the hair out your face as his lips moved to hover over yours, “Now where were we?”
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#theon#theon greyjoy#theon greyjoy imagine#theon greyjoy x reader#theon greyjoy x you#theon imagine#theon x reader#theon got#game of thrones#game of thrones imagine#game of thrones fluff#game of thrones x reader#got#got imagine#got x you#got x reader#game of thrones x you#got fluff#theon greyjoy fluff#theon greyjoy angst#theon greyjoy smut#game of thrones smut#got smut
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Hey can you write something with Theon were they’re made to marry because like they were caught together (sorry if this doesn’t make sense English isn’t my first language)
Girl from Essos | Theon Greyjoy
Pairing: Theon Greyjoy x Female!Reader
Summary: Theon was forced to marry a girl he was caught with, only it happens to be a girl whose family is a mystery coming from Essos.
Warnings: swearing, mentions of smut, arranged marriage, bit of fluff
The young wolf, his childhood friend sent him home to do one thing. And before he made any decisions he managed to fuck things up.
With Theon's return came the ship from the far west that has been sailing around the Iron Islands for moons now.
On the ship ran a girl who caught his eye. She was just what he needed to ease his nerves before facing with his father.
The ironborn man was flattering the girl's appearance, targeting her shyness with slow manners. It didn't take long for her to giggle at every move he made closer. As he expected, he was quite soon allowed to linger his fingers all over her.
He took her right there on the beach, behind some rocks, thinking that would secure them from the others and let him do everything fast and finished. However, he perhaps got lost in her and didn't even consider the time he spend enjoying in her body. For Theon to notice it was long would probably take the darkness of the night. Instead, it took him the darkness of the shadow to figure out his plan to be a failure.
The shadow of the girl's mother.
" How dare you sin? " She pulled her off Theon, thinking what overcame her daughter to do such a thing.
" Who are you, boy? You some beggar? " She questioned him, looking him up and down with disgust while making her daughter get dressed.
" My father is Balon Greyjoy, I am his son Theon. " She wasn't thinking he spoke the truth, he didn't look like a son of a Lord, more like his servant or it may have been the sand he was covered in.
" We will see who your father is. "
As Theon said, his father was Balon Greyjoy who would pick any day to deal with this except today and on the first day of arrival.
" So you had that girl on the sand? " Balon was trying his best to be calm, he knew his son wasn't too smart, but to be this stupid and mess up before even given a task is a showing his lack of improvement through the years they last interacted.
" I did. " He hesitated but admitted. What was there to lie about when he knew?
" And I had to hear from her mother and father of your behaviour. Why did you have to choose her? " It was confusing him, why was it such a big deal? Who was she to be so cherished that even Balon Greyjoy was mad of her ruin?
Lord of Pyke saw his son's cluelessness, starting to speak again. " You don't know who she is, do you? " He shook his head at his father's seriousness.
" Her fucking father is some rich man from Essos. No one knows how did they become so wealthy but they did. And you ruined their daughter. " His own words made him choke.
" How can I apologise? " Theon didn't want to start his return home by ruining the mission, so he hoped to do something about his mistake.
" You think you can apologize? " Lord Greyjoy laughed at the thought. " Those Starks made you weak. " He spat the name of the family which took care of his son.
" You will marry her. That's how you will be forgiven. " Demanding voice answered him.
" Marry her? " He asked as if he didn't hear. " I just return. "
" And I already regret it. Don't argue with me, you messed up and now it's time you fix it. " Balon stared further away from his son, glancing at everything except at him.
" You shall marry her tomorrow, the quicker I get her father off my back, the better. " And thus Theon was dismissed with nothing but a quiet insult added to the memories of his family.
He walked out on the beach, the land of his sin and hopped to the place he made his newest mistake. Only a couple of seconds passed before he fell to his knees, and then dropped his head in sand. He smeared his face with the ground, almost as if burying himself so no one can see him.
He wanted to come back to his home and finally show his father he is a worthy son. However, no matter how much he wished to be good, the hard mind of an ironborn seemed to only lead him in bad paths.
Now he was going to marry the girl he didn’t even think much of. She was supposed to be like every else, just another lick of the spoon. But their little fun turned into a serious matter.
He took himself back into his home, regretting his lustful ways of dealing with stress and nerve wracks. At this point, he imagined going back to Robb and finishing the war he lead. His mission for which he was here had no more importance it had at the beginning, he just wanted to go back again, where no expectations were raised for him to reach.
On the day of his wedding, Theon was more out of his head, he barely reacted to anything happening around him, depressed over the chaos he caused.
His bride wasn't of a better face. It was obvious she went through a lot of screaming and crying before stepping into the marriage herself. Both of them looked at the guests with unbothered eyes, barely acknowledging the words people were telling them.
They only waited for the whole situation to calm down, so it could be forgotten and simply moved on from. Thankfully, the torture of remembering their inappropriate act lasted only when surrounded by others.
Left alone by the crowd, both exchanged sympathetic looks. Theon just then thought of how this also must have affected her even more than him. Sheepishly approaching his wife, Theon put his hands on her shoulders, noticing the redness under her eyes and the pain on her cheeks.
" I am terribly sorry for ruining you. It was my mistake for using you for my needs. " The man spoke with honesty and sincere regret.
" You didn't use me. It is my mistake as well. You did not force this upon me. " She spoke, having a hushed voice that at any moment threatened to whisper.
" I have used you, in fear of facing my father, I needed something to relax me. And there you were, pretty and… I just… " He couldn't word out the explanation. He didn't deal with much explaining throughout his life, now struggling when needing to do so.
" Seeing your father, honestly, I understand the nervousness. You ran for the escape from the fear and took the first that seemed effective. "
" That really is how I created this situation. " He half-smiled, remembering it. " What about you, what made you agree to it? "
The girl's pasture calmed, adjusting to her husband's touch. " Well, no deep reasoning there. I was just very bored with the travelling we have done. Jumping from one place to the other. I just wanted to stop somewhere and enjoy myself for a moment. "
Theon nodded peacefully. " It does seem those travels were a burden to you. As has my meeting with my father been to me. " She agreed in silence. They let themselves stare at each other without speaking, embracing no sounds while doing so.
The ironborn first broke the silence. " I believe we have been through enough in the latest time, thus we should for the best let our minds rest in sleep. " The girl followed her husband under the covers. She took his shoulder as her pillow at his request, falling into sleep as quickly as she would in the sand. While observing his wife, Theon noticed he liked to see her this calm and relaxed. It made him think that this mistake of his, isn't as bad as he believed it to be. He might even become fond of it. The positive outlook on the future made the heir to the Pyke fall asleep in the sweetest way possible. Imagining the good things that will come out of this marriage.
#theon greyjoy x you#theon greyjoy x reader#theon greyjoy imagine#theon greyjoy#asoiaf#a song of ice and fire#game of thrones#asoiaf fic#asoiaf imagine#got imagine#got fic
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I recently read your theon fic and it's so good!! If you're still taking requests, would you consider writing something for theon again? Maybe a childhood friends to lovers with a Stark reader? It can be as short or long as you want and feel free to make it smutty!! And again love your writing! Going through the rest of your GoT fics now hehe
Omission
Pairing: Theon Greyjoy x Stark!Reader
Warnings: smut cuz anon told me i could! 😂, implied sex work in the winter town, slightly manipulative reader? 🤔, cunnilingus, face riding, praise kink, first orgasms, secret relationship 🤫, nipple biting, implied childhood friends, mentions of periods, mentioned past face riding
Words: 2432
"Oh shut up, Robb." Giving your twin brother a harsh shove, Robb merely laughs at you as you pummel your gloved fists against his shoulders. "Now I know you're just teasing me."
"Sweet (y/n), do you really think I would lie to my dear twin?"
Your eyes round as you gape at him. "You lie to me on a daily basis, Robb Stark!" Dealing him another smack on the head, Robb pleads for mercy from your tiny fists of fury. Seeing that he's given up, you let your arms fall back to your side, glaring at him. "There's no way. I've seen the two of you sneaking out to the winter towns. Probably to the brothels."
"You think so little of us men, don't you." He sighs and leans his back against the ominous face of the heart tree. To southerners, the face may appear quite macabre with the streams of red that streak out of it's eyes. Having been around it since the day you were born, it was never something to fear. Something to cower away from.
The castle of Winterfell was always hustling and bustling with the work of the many hands that were required to smoothly run it. Along with those of the large Stark family. Eight children including the Greyjoy ward, Theon, had the halls filled with loud shouting, singing, or laughing.
Out in the personal godswood that your family possessed, you and your twin brother liked to get away just to catch up. He was heir of Winterfell being the first born boy. You were separated from him and given the education that any other prestigious young lady of Westeros received. Unfortunately you never had lessons that overlapped with one another, despite your many complaints to your parents.
And what was your dear brother divulging to you? The fact that your father's ward Theon was so obviously smitten with you that even you were aware of his affections. You'd indulge your brother though and pretend not to know a thing. You'll keep your knowledge to yourself and utilize later. Pretend that you hadn't just been making out with Theon just a few hours prior. Robb may be your other half, but this was a secret that you couldn't truly share with him and swore Theon to secrecy. No, Robb was too close to Ned. He could accidentally let something slip to indicate your true relationship with the kraken boy.
A potential suitor for you, the eldest of Ned's daughters, hadn't been discussed fully though you'd heard whispers from the maids and lords in the halls. Trying to guess who your father would give you away to. Theon would not be a candidate.
"I just thought you should know how he feels." Robb hums.
"You know nothing real can come from it." Pointing out, you feel something seize in your chest. It thickens your throat so that pushing out your words was a struggle. "Theon and I. . . Even if- and I'm not saying I like him that way- even if we got together father would never allow it."
He purses his lips in response. "If we bring up the case properly, I believe father will hear us out."
You shake your head. Robb was ever the optimist.
"Don't say anything about it to father." Simply telling him, you use the trunk of the tree to help yourself get up. The weight of your gown skirts tend to pull you down. In response, Robb gets up as well and helps to dust you off. "Please Robb. I don't want Theon getting in trouble." That was the last thing the two of you needed was Ned to increase his surveillance toward Theon. While he cared for the boy, he was always wary due to the Greyjoy Rebellion. They'd proven to be untrustworthy and Ned being a realist always held concern that Theon would grow to be just like Balon Greyjoy.
You didn't know the Lord of the Iron Islands and Theon didn't speak much about him but from what little you were able to gather, you'd say Theon would be nothing like his sire. Lord Ned already felt like Theon was a bad influence on Robb with his cocky attitude and cavalier nature. He did not desire any of his children to adopt those traits.
"Okay okay." He's holding your hand as the two of you trudge through snow to get back to the warmth of the castle. "But. . . do you think you can be a little nicer to him now that you know he holds a flame for you? It's bad enough Sansa and mother always treat him coldly."
Frowning you glance at him. "I'm always nice."
You hate how he rolls his Tully blue eyes. "You're always frigid when he's around. You weren't like that when we were all children. You used to hang off him. But you've changed since. . . since you flowered. . ."
Again he finds your hands smacking his arm. "Please don't EVER mention my cycles again." Your cheeks were burning, embarrassed that Robb was even aware when you'd had your first moonblood.
As you enter through the kitchens, Robb's laughter rings above the other chattering. "My apologies. I forget that you're a proper lady now. Like mother and Sansa." He fake curtsies and you have half the mind to kick his shin until your septa shows up; breathless like she's been running around all over Winterfell.
"There you are!" She hisses and stomps toward you.
Robb abandons you to flee and save himself.
Even with your slippers covering your feet, the piercing cold of the stone floor got past even the thickest of wool. Frozen toes were a small price to pay; especially when Theon will happily warm them up once you get to his room. There were a few obstacles you had to bypass in your route. Nothing you couldn't handle.
You'd made this journey many times in the past two years.
Robb wasn't being dramatic when he claimed your change toward Theon. From innocent children to teenagers, everything happened so fast that you weren't really able to comprehend what was going on with your own head. When Theon first arrived to your family, you were a small child. You and Robb grew attached to him immediately. For so long you saw him as a brother. Then it just stopped the moment you bled.
That's when you saw Theon. . . differently.
"I was wondering if you'd make it tonight." Barely stepping in front of his door but a second ago, you grin at his eagerness and let him pull you in. Quietly shutting his door as to not alarm anyone, Theon spins around and envelops you in his arms.
Nuzzling into the warmth of his chest, you sigh in contentment. All the stress of your day rolling right off of you. Even within the security of his room, you still kept your voice to barely above a whisper. "I thought about it. . . Robb's onto you, you know. I'm worried he'll discover the truth."
Theon sits you down on his bed, wrapping one of his fur blankets around you so that you could warm yourself up. Wandering off to the table in his room, he pours two chalices of wine. "Just tell him. I keep telling you he'd take the secret to his grave. Your brother would never risk getting you in that much trouble."
"Not consciously." Pulling the fur tighter, you focus on the softness. "He might imply something to our father in his attempt to help us. Robb thinks our lord father can be reasoned with about a relationship between the two of us."
He's quiet with his back turned to you, busying himself with stoking the fire in the hearth. You watch shadows cast by the fire dance along the broad width of his shoulders.
"Why wouldn't your father marry you to me?" Theon asks after a moment of quiet contemplation. When he faces you again, there's a streak of hurt in his eyes that makes your stomach drop. "It would strengthen bonds between the north and the Iron Islands. And I can't imagine you marrying anyone else but me. I knew from the moment we met that you would be my bride."
Any other time you might have laughed at the idea. Empathetic, you rise from the bed and float over to him; caressing his stubbled cheeks with both of your hands and drawing him closer. In a perfect world MAYBE your father would have considered marrying you off to the last surviving Greyjoy son. His blood was too precious to him though and you knew Ned would only ever choose a husband for you that hailed from the north. Especially since he knew Robb would raise hell if you were given to any other kingdom in Westeros. It was only right that twins stay together after all.
You know how to pull his mind away from such unpleasantness. If you fell victim to those thoughts. . . it would only make your life miserable. The way you handled your reality may not be healthy and this certainly should be addressed, but you were too scared to discuss it. Cowardice you knew it was. You covered it up with saccharine kisses that coaxed Theon to lower his guard.
Your world was full of lies. Perhaps not outright lies, but you were still omitting the truth to your entire family.
If it meant keeping Theon's kisses all to yourself, you didn't feel too bad about it.
This discussion would be brought up again in the future. That was inescapable. You rue the day when Ned finally decided on your husband. Theon would raise hell. You'd hold it off for as long as possible. The maiden in you wanted to believe in this fantasy that Theon thought would come true. Far more happy than what was in store for you in your future.
Having to bend slightly over your short form (you hated how much taller Sansa was than you. It wasn't fair. You were older than her yet you barely were an inch taller than Arya!), once both of you break the kiss for much needed air, Theon presses his forehead against your's, his nose brushing against you're cheek similar to the barn cat that you liked to cuddle with. Rubbing his scent onto you as a claim.
Swiftly his hands grab at your rear as he hoists you up into his arms, forcing you to wrap your legs around him for stability. His lips trail kisses along your neck up to the juncture of your neck.
"Do you remember when I first took you?" Theon asks, lips moving against your skin.
Your fingers curl, dragging him closer to you. If you truly could have things your way, you'd never let him go. Freezing the moment to never ending stillness. It was a selfish want, but you didn't care for you truly loved Theon; even if you could never say it out loud to him. If you did then he would do everything and anything to make sure you were wed to him. You didn't doubt that treason would be one of those options. You'd seen it in his eyes before when you let the discussion of getting married went on for too long. You couldn't indulge him.
How could you not remember the day he pierced your maidenhead? The very same day you broke down to him, admitting that you were uncontrollably attracted to him. Longing and desire replaced the once childish adoration you held for him. Ever since your first cycle, it was like your entire body was on fire when Theon was remotely near you.
When you admitted everything, Theon took you back to his room and. . . well. . . From between your legs he spouted nonstop words of adoration and utter devotion to you, his beloved Lady of the North. He confessed to going to the brothels in the winter towns but only so that he could learn how to please you in the bed in order to win you over. How else would he be able to compete against all the other lords that would come calling?
Honestly, you barely heard most of the words he was saying above the roaring of your heartbeat in your ears. A surprise that no one heard you screaming when you had your first climax. Terrified at first and not understanding what was happening to you, Theon ever so softly coaxed you with his tongue and soft touches until you relaxed and came. He encouraged you to shove your cunt into his face (his words, not your's). Even if you were afraid that you would suffocate him or break his nose. That would only make him more persistent. Your face was beaming bright red when he positions your entire body over his face and with the sheer strength of his arms, dips you up and down onto his tongue.
Theon folded you into positions you'd never imagined following that first encounter. From that moment on, you were his. And you couldn't imagine anyone else touching you like Theon did. When his fingers roamed over your skin, it was like he was reading from a book. All your sweet spots spelled out just for him in invisible ink.
From your hooded expression, Theon came to the proper conclusion that you did indeed remember that day which makes his lips curl into a wicked grin. His pupils are clearly blown out in the pools of blue.
Taking care to lay you down gently onto the surface of his bed, the furs around your shoulders fall and splay around you, revealing your nightgown and the small peaks of your erect nipples grazing against your shift.
Theon captures a nipple that poked from your shift. His front teeth softly put pressure making you mewl and writhe under him. You feel a hand glide up your thigh until it rests on your naked hip. "I think of it as the happiest day of my life. Not just because I finally got to fuck you, but also because you said you had feelings for me as I did for you."
Familiar warmth pushes past your lower lips that have you gasping and attempting to arch your back, but Theon makes sure you can't squirm.
Over the blood rushing through your ears and the numbing of your brain as he pumps his fingers in and out while easily sliding in a second and third one; you caught the low whisper of his voice.
"Whatever it takes. I'll make you my bride."
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Lookalike (I)
Summary: When Jon Snow’s name day arrives, Theon Greyjoy hires you as a gift for him. But will you awake feelings they’ve been trying to hide from themselves?
WC: 2.9k words
Warnings: Canon divergence. Smut. Role play. Virginity Kink. Innocence Kink. Dirty talk. Prostitution.
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Masterlist
You were wearing your prettiest dress when you arrived at Winterfell, riding your horse into the gates just as the sun set down.
It was very nice, looking like a lady sometimes, with your hair up and people looking at you respectfully, and not trying to take a bite out of you.
The guards even let you step inside, and one of them showed you a place where your old girl could rest and eat a little bit, and didn’t ask you too many questions.
You weren’t even finished tying her into place when the young ward who’d brought you here arrived to get you.
Theon Greyjoy.
You were very familiar with him. This wasn’t the first time you saw one another - and probably wouldn’t be the last - but your interaction was new. All of the other times, it was he who came to you, visiting your brothel, but tonight seemed to be special enough that he had requested that you came to see him in Winterfell.
“My lady,” he smirked at you, cocky.
“Lord Greyjoy,” you scoffed, picking your bag from her.
Very funny of him.
“Oh, come on,” he rolled his eyes and gestured to you. “You are wearing away too much for a whore.”
You shook your head, moving to his side, and he slapped your ass, pulling your body close.
“Let me see what’s underneath that under a better light,” he teased you.
You skimmed away from him, slapping his hand out of the way.
“I don’t think Lord Stark will appreciate you groping a whore in his yard,” you remarked. “Much less my presence in his castle.”
He scoffed.
“I told them you are here to assist in the kitchen,” he told you. “And you are going to leave tomorrow because you were intimidated by me. It’s simple.”
Gods, what a mess.
“Oh, yes,” you taunted him. “Intimidated by the big and strong ward of Winterfell. Oh, Lord Greyjoy, don’t seduce me, I’m saving myself for farmboy lover. He promised he will marry me as soon as his father allows it.”
Your words were very quick to sour his mood, and he grabbed your elbow.
“Just get inside,” he grunted. l
You followed Theon through the walls silently. Winterfell was a big castle, and a true fortress. One could walk through it for days and never see all of it.
"What's in the bag?" he threw a look over his shoulder as you walked into his chambers.
When the owner of your brothel told you to come, she said Theon wanted you to look like you were going to stay in the castle, and not spend a single night. So, as to look convincing, you took your trip as a time you could use to buy a few supplies for yourself and the other girls.
"Needles, fabric, some herbs, oils..." you listed. "Nothing you would be interested in.'
He perked up.
"Is it a special kind of oil?" he asked. "Because I want to stretch you out, little whore."
You wanted to scoff but knew not to push it. Theon wasn't the biggest man you had ever had in your life, though he wanted you to act like he was.
"Some of them," you raised your chin. "Some are just to make us smell good."
He pulled you close, and this time you didn't reject him, just stretching your neck to the side so he could sniff you.
"And you always smell so good, don't you?" he ran his nose on your skin.
“I do,” you hummed.
Theon pulled away suddenly, and you watched as he moved to his bedside.
“Well, I need you to smell different tonight,” he loosened his cloak, tossing it on his bed. “You are… a bit of a gift tonight.”
You watched him closely. Of course, you knew this wasn’t a simple visit. You weren’t dumb to think he just wanted to change his usual environment.
“I believe you heard that Lord Stark’s bastard just recently turned 18,” he pointed out. “Jon Snow.”
There was no one in the Seven Kingdoms who hadn’t heard of Jon Snow. Lord Stark’s only fault, the torn in his flash. His little bastard boy.
The event, of course, was overshadowed by Lord Stark’s firstborn’s nameday, just a few days before his dear brother.
“And I’m his nameday gift?” you asked.
He grabbed a little bottle of oil and dangled it in his hands, walking to you.
“And since I’m a good friend, I got him the best whore in Wintertown,” he smirked.
He opened the bottle, and raised it to your nose, so you could give it a little sniff before he dabbed it on the two sides of your neck.
It was a rose perfume - and a very expensive one, considering how strong it smelt.
“So tomorrow, you are going to bathe, and put on this sweet oil,” he closed the bottle again. “You’ll braid your hair all nicely, and wear that pretty dress of yours, and you are going to surprise our Lord Snow.”
Tomorrow.
“And tonight?” you asked.
Theon smirked.
“You don’t think I would have you come all the way here and then not fuck you, right?” he asked.
You simply nodded. It made a lot of sense.
“And you’re going to fuck me in your bed?” you teased him.
“All night long,” he moved his hands to your dress, untying from around your waist. “It might be his nameday, but he isn’t the only one who deserves some fun, right?”
Theon kissed your lips before you could think much more, and you let him guide you along as your dress fell to the floor, and he did the same thing with the shift you were wearing underneath for warmth before pulling you along to his bed.
“You are a very sweet whore,” he touched your chin, raising your chin and moving his thumb over your lips. “But I need you to be an innocent girl for me tonight. That’s how you’ll be for Jon."
You raised your eyebrows in surprise.
“Innocent?” you asked.
Theon pushed your hair out of your shoulders, caressing your skin.
“An innocent little girl,” he spoke softly. “A virgin whore, if I may say.”
You had never been a virgin whore. A virgin? Yes. A whore? You’ve been that for a long time, but you were already fucking when you decided it was best to be paid for it.
“Milord,” you shuddered. “I… maybe you’ve asked for the wrong woman? I’ve… I’ve never done it before, I’ve never been with a man.”
His face showed a bit of confusion for a moment, but Theon relaxed the moment he seemed to understand.
"Oh, no, I did not," Theon purred, brushing back your hair. "You think I haven’t seen you? Teasing me down the halls? As your bosom blossoms…”
You forced your face to stay innocent as he spoke, and he caressed your neck.
"Do you know how much I wanted to have you for me, pretty girl?" he asked you.
You shook your head.
"I wanted to be your first man," he cooed. "Show you how good you can feel, how much pleasure I can give you."
"But milord!" you gasped. "We aren't even married."
Theon chuckled.
"You are going to be a virgin whore for Jon," he reminded you, very stern. "But to me..."
You waited. Of course.
"We don't have to be married, little love," he spoke softly. "It's alright."
He moved his face to your neck, kissing your skin, and you shivered.
"What about my father?" you gasped.
Theon licked and nibbled on your skin.
"Don’t worry about out that," he whispered. "It won't count."
He took his hands to your breasts, caressing your naked tits, pinching your skin.
“We won’t do much,” he promised. “I won’t spill inside you.”
You rubbed your thighs together, a little more excited than you wished he knew.
It was a sweet scenario, this one. One you had thought about in the nights when you had to warm your own cunt and make yourself wet for clients with good gold, but not much consideration.
Theon wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up, carrying you to his bed and tossing you on it, and you were quick to close your legs and pull his cloak to cover your body, earning a lustful look from him.
“It’s alright, my little maiden,” he reached for you, taking your foot and slowly massaging it. “Don’t you trust me?”
You gulped, but nodded, knowing better than to drag this.
“I trust you, milord,” you whispered.
Theon smirked wickedly.
“Such a sweet girl.”
He reached for you, and undressed you once again.
“So pretty,” he purred. “Look at those perky little tits. I can’t believe you hide them away.”
You covered your tits with your half-assedly.
"Mother says I'm still young," you affirmed, feigning embarrassment. "That they'll still grow more."
He hummed along, clicking his tongue.
“I can make them grow for you,” he cooed. “Make your tits big and heavy, if you want to.”
You eyed him suspiciously.
“How?”
Theon smirked and climbed on top of you, kissing your collarbones before moving his lips to your breasts, and kissing your tit before wrapping his lips around your nipple, licking and sucking on it.
You gasped at the sudden touch, but soon it became a moan as he continued to lick, and suck and nibble, pulling on your nipple with his teeth scrapping your skin, and using his free hand to knead and squeeze your free breast before repeating his mouth movements with his fingers.
“You’re such a beauty,” he moved his lips away from your skin, moving his hands to your legs. “Men are going to kill for you, but they won’t know I was the first… the first one you let in…”
Theon kissed your stomach, licking the skin of your navel, and you shuddered.
He wasn’t… was he?
“The first one who ever got to get his eyes on this cunt,” he hummed. “And such a pretty cunt it is.”
You squirmed under his gaze, a little unease. Men didn’t take a lot of time looking at your cunt. Maybe at your tits, and at your naked bodies, but they never gazed at your cunt.
“Look at those fiery red locks,” he exhaled, touching you with his finger, and you sucked in a breath, startled.
Theon looked up at you, but didn’t seem much interested in the reasoning behind it.
“Pretty lady,” he rubbed you up and down, from your entrance to the button above it. “With a pretty cunt.”
You squirmed.
“Milord,” you whimpered. “What are you doing?”
“My Lord,” he corrected you softly.
“My lord,” you repeated.
He hummed along, reaching for you, and his finger reached your entrance, circling it slowly.
“Fingering you, sweet girl,” he said simply.
You panted, eager. His finger was slowly circling you, dipping in and then pulling out, not giving you anything.
“But my maidenhead,” you protested.
Theon didn't seem any detained, once again dipping his finger and pulling back.
"It won't break with just my fingers," he rested her leg on his shoulder.
A blatant lie, clearly.
"Are you sure?" you panted, a little needy.
Would he just fucking put that finger in?
"I am, my little lady," he kissed her thigh. "And you trust me, don't you? Your sweet Theon."
You nodded, looking for the meaning of his words.
"I do," you shuddered.
He slid a single finger into you, and you relaxed in relief, whimpering when he just pushed a second one right after, probably thinking it didn't matter for a whore like you.
"There you go," he purred. "There you go, my sweet lady."
"Theon," you moNed, not stopping to correct yourself.
He squeezed your thigh a little closer, curling his fingers.
"Yes, my sweet lady " he exhaled. "Do you like it when I touch you?"
"Yes," she confirmed, breathless.
He moved up your body, kissing your neck and chest as he fingered you, spreading you open, so sweet and patient he didn't even feel like himself.
"Theon," you whined as he pushed a third finger.
He angled his hand, and you moaned when the heel of his hand finally came to rub your bud.
Seven hells, you just wanted to peak! Couldn't he be merciful?
"Theon," you whined. "Please."
He nuzzled your neck.
"Please what, my sweet lady?"
You bit back your tongue.
"I... I..." you stuttered. "I don't know, just... Please. Please."
"Here?" he pressed harder against your bud. "This place, sweet girl?"
"Yes," you gasped.
He hummed along.
"And what do you need?" he purred.
You squirmed, and he fucked you harder with his fingers.
"I don't know," you arched your hips.
Greyjoy nearly growled.
"My sweet little lady," he cooed. "Your cunt is squeezing my fingers so much. Don't you know what that means?"
"It's strange," you panted. "I feel strange."
"It's alright," he assured you. "It's going to feel food in just a second. Let it happen, sweet girl."
You closed your eyes, moaning and arching your body, letting the pleasure take you.
"Theon," you cried. "Theon!"
"Peak for me, sweet girl," he hummed into your neck. "Let me feel your cunt squeeze my fingers, my lady."
You finally broke, peaking and crying as he continued to fuck you and play with you.
"There you go," he whispered into your neck. "There you go, sweet Sansa."
And finally, it made sense.
This wasn't the first time someone hinted or outrightly said you looked like Lady Sansa. You were older than her, and she was much prettier, but in the dark, all tall girls with red hair and blue eyes could be the daughter of the Lord of Winterfell.
All men wanted to fuck noble ladies. Many wanted to fuck the young innocent daughter of Lord Stark.
His ward wasn't any different.
He kissed you right after, devouring your lips hungrily, holding you close with his free hand.
“Theon,” you panted.
“Let me show you more,” he settled between your legs, and you could feel his hard cock against your entrance. “Please, sweet girl.”
You rubbed your nose on his.
“Sansa,” you whispered to him. “I’m your Sansa, Theon.”
His cock twitched under you.
“Sweet Sansa,” he held you tighter. “Let me make you feel good.”
You moaned, arching your hips, and he his cock into you, the thick head breaching your cunt’s entrance.
“You want me don’t you?” he hissed into your neck, breathing in deep, sniffing your perfumed skin. “Sneaking glances at me at dinner, letting me listen to your sweet songs?”
“I do,” you panted.
He pushed more into you.
“I want you so much,” you panted. “My Theon.”
Theon pulled your hips up tight, lifting your legs and putting them on his shoulders as he pushed his cock deep into you, making you gasp.
“I’ll fucking show you,” he growled. “I’ll be so good for you, sweet Sansa, I promise I will.”
You put your arms around his body, squeezing him close, knowing he wanted his fanstasy and giving it to him.
His hips moved in a sweet pace, fucking you slowly, as if to a little virgin he wanted to cherish and didn’t want to hurt.
“I’ll mark you as mine,” he nosed your neck, hungry. “Gonna breed you, give you a baby.”
You moaned, holding him closer.
“I’ll make you the lady of the Iron Islands,” he growled into your neck. “Fill that place with little redhead boys, show everyone how I fuck you every night, I’ll keep you pregnant all the time.”
Fucking beast of a man.
“Yes, Theon,” you moaned, and cried when his cock hit your sweet spot. “Please, make me your wife.”
His hand moved to your mouth, quickly covering it up with his hand.
“Careful, sweet Sansa,” he panted. “You father mustn’t know.”
You nodded, though still moaned when his cock brushed against your sweet spot again.
Theon was a fast learner. When he felt generous, he knew exactly when to make you feel pleasure.
And right now, you were his sweet Sansa, of course he would want you to feel the most pleasure.
Your peak threatened you again, and you arched your hips to him.
“Theon,” you panted, innocent, against his hand. “It’s… please… again.”
He growled into your neck.
“You’re going to peak for me again, sweet Sansa?” he asked. “I can feel your cunt squeezing my cock. Such a strong grip, my little maiden.”
“Please,” you panted. “I don’t know-”
“It’s alright,” he kissed your skin. “I can do it for you, sweet girl. Just take it. Keep giving me your sweet moans and I’ll do everything for you.”
You let him, and just rode your pleasure, peaking around his cock and taking it when you felt him trembling over you, spilling into your cunt as you still felt the sweet shocks.
He stayed inside you for a moment, tangled with you, sniffing your neck and holding you close, and you could feel the moment he remembered who he was laying with. Not his sweet Sansa, but just a whore.
“Alright,” he huffled, pulling away from you. “You can go now. Come back before the sun is down and I’ll help you dress up right to go to Jon.”
You frowned, confused.
“Go?” you asked. “Where?”
He rolled his eyes.
“Go down to the servants quarters or something,” he grunted. “They are waiting for a kitchen girl, anyway.”
You sighed, but picked up your things, dressing up and putting on your cloak, grabbing your bag.
“Fine,” you mumbled.
“I’ll pay you when you are done with Jon,” he warned you.
You nodded before leaving.
At least you would have a warm bed for the night.
. . .
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#Lookalike Fanfiction Series#theon greyjoy#theonsa#theonsa smut#theonsa fanfiction#theon greyjoy x reader smut#theon greyjoy smut#theon greyjoy fanfiction#theon greyjoy x reader#theon greyjoy imagine#theon greyjoy x you#theon greyjoy x you smut#theon greyjoy x you fanfiction#theon greyjoy x you fanfic#theon greyjoy x you fic#theon greyjoy x reader fic#theon greyjoy x reader fanfic#theon greyjoy x y/n#theon greyjoy x y/n fanfiction#theon greyjoy x y/n fanfic#theon greyjoy x y/n fic#theon greyjoy x y/n smut
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Be With Me
✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Robb Stark x F!Reader
✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ When Robb over hears of your potential marriage, he cannot stand the idea of loosing you to some random lord.
✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “Be with Me” by Ramin Djawadi. It was heavily inspired by the cave scene with Jon and Yigrette. P.S… IM BACK!!
✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 1.4k
✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, sexual content, swearing, injuries, mentions of death, oral (male receiving), discussion of marriage…
(I’m saying it again! This was heavily inspired by the cave scene that involved Jon and Yigrette!!)
You walk out of the medic tent with a limp, It’s more than obvious that you were injured, and you feel the stares from other soldiers as your eyes are narrowed.
Robb caught up to you, grabbing your shoulder to make you turn around, “What was that?” Robb immediately said, “You thought it best to throw yourself into a fight?”
“A sword was coming from behind, you were too bothered to even notice.” You shake his hand off your shoulder and continue walking.
Robb grumbles a couple of words before speeding up to catch you, “I saved your life.” He piped up.
“No, I did.” You corrected him, you kept your eyes forward as you walked to your tent, “If I didn’t throw myself into the battle… You know I’d die for you.”
It makes Robb scoff rather loudly, ignoring your last words, “Let’s say you saved me. What about the other time or the other one?” Robb lifts an eyebrow, “You still owe me two more.”
“I owe you quite a lot, my lord.” You tell him, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to check the horses.”
He grabs your cloak tightly and pulls you back, nearly making you fall to the ground. You look up at him confused and angry.
He suddenly snatches your sword out of your scabbard, “I’ll take your sword as payment.” He then scurries away, you can hear him laughing.
“W-What?” You stand shocked for a moment before realizing what is happening, “Robb! Come back here, dammit!” You shout, chasing after him, “Robb fucking Stark! Give me my sword!”
You run after him, tumbling on a few rocks but don’t fall… Somehow. As much as you’re a fighter, Robb was a runner.
He ran so easily and didn’t take a second to look back and stop to give you some kind of better start.
“If you want it back, you’ll have to steal it back!” He runs from the camp and into a random cave. A random cave to you. You didn’t know the North like he did.
The cave is heated by a natural hot spring, which forms a waterfall and a pool. The rocks glistening from the humidity from the water and the light shining through.
Robb sets his sword against the rocks and begins to undo his armor. He starts with his gloves, crumbling them up and tossing them besides the sword.
Your peer your head into the cave, you rush into the cave when hear him, “Seven fucking hells, Robb-!” You loudly shout, but stop in your tracks.
“I heard from my mother that you were supposed to marry some random Lord.” He spoke with a hint of venom in his voice, he pulls off his brown leather boots, “Which means you’re a maiden.”
You choke on your words as you feel your face become warm at his bluntness.
He unties and unbuttons his armor, setting it down carefully, “I always wanted to beat the lord dead, just imagining you in his grasp made me feel so angry.”
Robb turns his back to your as his arms cross and grab the hem of his dirty shirt, he’s swift and impatient, tearing free from the constraints of fighting and riding.
His hands come to the strings of his breeches, “I wanted to be the one to marry you… To kiss you…” Until his breeches drop to the ground. He steps out of them, “To love you…”
Robb turns back to you, he is completely bare in front of you. You could see light bruises and scrapes on his body but little scars. They were faded but still there, it added to his muscular body. He was so beautiful… So perfect… So flawless…
Your eyes flicker around the cave and your eyes only set sights on him once. They move to the ground and you hear his soft steps against the wet stone.
He slowly closes the space in between you both until his face his near yours.
You feel Robb’s breath, one of his hands comes to your cheeks and cups it. But when he leans into you for a kiss, you pull back.
You swallow thickly and turn your head, “We shouldn’t, Robb.” You mumble under your breath, “We can’t be doing this.”
“Then look me in the eyes and say it. Tell me that you don’t want to go any further.” He says, and he slowly turns his head to eventually look at him, “Go on, tell me.”
You knew what was waiting for you back at home, you knew that the second you stepped foot back into your home, your life would be over, even more if your parents found out.
“Do you want to marry that lord?” Robb whispers in your ear, “Do you want a marry a man with selfish desires?” You could hear the pain in his voice, “Because my heart would not stand the idea of it… My heart is yours, it has been from the start, ever since your mother met mine, ever since you watched me train that day. Do you feel as I do?”
“I do.” You shakily answer him. You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him close and then you feel his lips on yours.
As your eyes shut and kiss him, you can feel yourself crying. You don’t know but he sees it, he does his best to keep you distracted and focused on him.
But you seem to have other ideas…
Once you manage to calm down and enjoy the kiss for a few more minutes, taking a couple of seconds to catch your breath before returning… Your hands move down his body and you slowly begin to kneel, planting kisses down his chest.
Robb chuckles, “Come back up, I wanna-” A sudden moan leaves his mouth when he feels your mouth wrap around his hard cock.
He throws his head back and allows himself to moan loudly. He was confined in the cave, just with you and no one else to see or hear. He closes his eyes and his hand comes to your head to move faster.
“F-Fuck!” His voice cracks as he curses, “H-How are you so-” He grunts and hisses, watching you close as you get him off.
Moments later, Robb is lying on the warm stone ground with you by his side… His fingers graze over your skin as he listens to the water pouring, feeling the warmth coming from the hot spring beside them.
Robb looks down at you with a grin, “How did you know to do that?” He questions you with an eyebrow raised.
You shrug, “I didn't learn it from anyone, I just wanted to. You looked like you enjoyed it.” You drag your nails over his chest.
“Surely there must’ve been a man you practice with.” Robb sits up, he’s genuinely curious but still playful, “Was it Theon? Or Jon?”
You swat at his leg and he snickers in response, “I swear, Robb. There wasn’t any other man.”
“So you are a maiden or were.” Robb stands and grabs your hand to help you up, “Join me, would you?” You didn’t need to say anything, he could see the answer in your eyes.
He leads you into the hot spring, feeling the warm water make contact with your skin. You wrap your arms around his waist and lay your head on his chest.
“They may be looking for us.” You tell him, unsure what to do now as you are held in his arms.
“I know.” Robb huffs as he rubs your back, “But let’s stay for a little longer…. I don’t wish to leave.” He holds you even tighter and places a kiss on the top of your head, “I do not wish to lose you once this is all over.”
“I… I’m sure I can convince my parents somehow. My mother could easily be swayed, but my father-”
“I’ll deal with him.” Robb interrupts you, “I’ll talk to my mother about it. There’s no way I cannot lose you to that man.”
Robb then moves to cup your face, swiping his thumb over his cheek, “Let’s not leave for a little longer.” He pulls you into another kiss, adjusting you comfortably on his lap.
You shudder and shiver, feeling his cock enter once more, “Don’t let me go.” You say to him, your hands hold grab his shoulders, keeping yourself up.
Once he was sheathed inside of you, Robb finally answers, “There’s no way I’ll let you go. Even if they try to pry my dead body off you, I’ll never let you go.”
© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without permission.
#x reader#x female reader#fluff#robb stark#robb stark x reader#robb stark x y/n#robb stark x you#game of thrones#game of thrones x y/n#game of thrones x reader#game of thrones smut#Jon son#theon greyjoy#robb stark smut#robb x reader
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An underrated aesthetic for Theon: standing as close as possible to Robb at any given time.
(Credit goes to artist Tommy Patterson. From "A Game of Thrones" comics by Dynamite Entertainment, 2011.)
#robb stark#theon greyjoy#throbb#robb x theon#asoiaf art#asoiaf#words are wind#a certain affection#they are in my head and never pay rent#cat being annoyed by it too ahzdhzefj#you must Leave now !!! leave my son alone !!
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Ah yes, Theon, the king of priorities.
(Little prequel to this modern AU thramsay comic)
#game of thrones#asoiaf#ramsay bolton#thramsay#theon x ramsay#theon greyjoy#a song of ice and fire#asoiaf modern au#game of thrones modern au#got fanart#asoiaf fanart#theon fanart#thramsay au#my art#Can you tell I spent all day on this? 😀😀#I sorta got lost in the sauce#the comic script was actually much shorter than this#but I felt it necessary to add the last few panels… 😼😼
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Description: During your Uncle Robert's Royal Procession, you find yourself enraptured with Ned Starks' bastard son. While Jon has never dreamed so vividly until your arrival, a thread seems to exist between you and him, pulling you together.
Luckily for you both, your father Tyrion sees the need for a sworn sword in his beloved daughter's life.
You should know better, truly you should, but you’ve always had a weakness for pitiful-looking creatures, or at least that’s what your father has always said. He stands a pace ahead of you, watching as your uncle, the King Robert, embraces Lord Ned Stark with a boyish joy you have never seen in your uncle. Your Aunt Cersei stands to the side of them, smiling politely at the Lady Catelyn Stark, Joffery all but hanging from her skirts, demanding attention. Usually, you would scowl at the back of the boy’s head, but the sight of Ned Stark’s bastard son has you quite distracted.
He is pitiful, even his name, Jon, it’s so common, so often used it cannot differentiate him from others. He stands stiffly, with gray eyes so dark they almost seem black set beneath thick brows. He has curly dark hair that frames his face, an unchanging frown upon his face, and his hands clasp and unclasp nervously as he watches the mingling of your two families. Jon’s dressed like all the other Starks, but somehow lesser, as if he has chosen only the drabbest of colors in an effort to blend into the dreary landscape. There’s a solemn softness to him that intrigues you. What secrets does he keep? Why does he look so mired in grief? He notices your gaze, and his face tints pink as he ducks his head further into the fur collar of his cloak. You bite back a laugh, for a moment he looked like a turtle.
The boy beside him, Robb, stands an inch or so taller with cornflower blue eyes, and auburn hair. The clear son of Lady Catelyn radiates confidence, nearly bordering on arrogance, as he surveys the servants unloading your family’s belongings from the wheelhouses. Beside him stands a boy whose arrogance you wouldn’t mistake for confidence, even if you were less astute than you are. But the arrogance rings false, you can see the cracks in his bravado, the insecurity leaking from every pore. It’s in the way he hovers so close to Robb, as if he fears to be away from him would be his undoing. This one you know inside and out; your father had drilled you on everyone you were going to meet before you even stepped foot outside King’s Landing.
Theon Greyjoy, last surviving son of Balon Greyjoy, a war prisoner disguised as a ward, the closest companion to Robb Stark, both accepted and held at a distance, Lord Stark’s sword an ever-looming threat should his father ever revolt once more. Theon has eyes like the sea and tousled hair the color reminiscent of the mahogany desk in your father’s study. He is lankier than the other two, hungrier, and when your eyes meet his, he winks. You resist the urge to wrinkle your nose in response, you were a lady, a Lannister, you were not so easily swayed. Theon is handsome, but if your father’s reports were true, he spent much of his time in brothels. The tactics that worked there would not work on you.
“And this is my eldest daughter, Sansa.” Lord Stark says, motioning to a girl that was perhaps two or so years younger than you. She is beautiful, with fiery red hair, eyes like Robb’s, and high, graceful cheekbones. She curtsies with the air of a Southern lady, and smiles when you do the same. This is who you are meant to befriend, and it does not seem it will be too difficult, Sansa’s eyes eagerly drink in every aspect of your being, as if she wishes to glen all she can of Southern life before it is ripped away from her.
“She is as beautiful as her mother.” Your father says, giving her then Lady Catelyn a smile.
They both thank him, Lady Catelyn beaming at the praise, while you notice Sansa’s cheeks flush with color. She is easily flattered; you must remember that.
“Allow me to introduce my own daughter, Y/N Lannister.” Your father introduces you, putting emphasis on your surname, the very fact that you have one. You are not a bastard, no matter what awful Joffrey likes to say. Your mother and father had married in secret, she died giving birth to you, it was tragic and left your father quite saddened, but you were not a bastard.
Your eyes dart back to Jon taking him in subtlety. You wish to see him blush again, but you will not make your actions so easily observed.
“It is too cold, why must we stand here all day?” Joffrey whines, crossing his arms over his chest and stomping his foot resoundingly.
Your aunt fusses over him, and Lord Stark leads you all inside, talking jovially with your uncle as you hurry to catch up with your father.
It is loud in the Great Hall of Winterfell, made of gray stone and smelling of smoke, meat, and a hint of dog, which you must assume is from the Direwolves. It is well lit and filled with people, all enjoying the bountiful feast set before them on long wooden tables. You’re seated away from your father, something you despise. He is closer to your Uncle Jaime, nearer to the King and Lord Stark, while you have been seated with the other children. It has only been you and your father for so very long, a part of you feels anxious to be separated from him, but you are a Lannister, if you cannot charm the strangers around you then can you truly call yourself such?
“Will you tell me more of King’s Landing, Lady y/n?” Sansa asks, looking enraptured by the mere thought of it. She is dressed in a gown of blue silk, her fur lined cloak on the back of her chair, her hair done up in a style you’re quite familiar with. She is very beautiful, and you spot many men staring at her, one of them being Theon who is seated at the lower tables. You catch his eye and smile knowingly. In response, he scowls and ducks his head.
You must mention this observation to your father.
You smile and return your attention to Sansa, regaling her with tales of festivals and feasts, of tourneys and services in the Great Sept. Her siblings either listen as well or turn their attention elsewhere, which you don’t mind. They are not who you are here to befriend.
Sansa sighs dreamily and turns her gaze to Joffrey, who is seated next to his mother further up the table and is staring down at his food as if it has offended him. “And what of Joffrey? Surely you must be close?”
Your cousin, and closest companion, Myrcella snorts into her drink, and you shoot her a look. Myrcella was meant to be sitting next to Joffrey but had convinced someone to switch with her so that she could be next to you.
“Joffrey is a…spirited boy, he has many…passions.” You say carefully, running your finger along the rim of your glass.
Your father suspects Robert will wish to wed Sansa and Joffrey. It’s a strategic match, but your cousin is a horrible bully, you have marks hidden beneath your sleeves to prove your words, and you do not wish to see innocent Sansa suffer in such a way. True, you have not spent much time with her, but she has been warm and welcoming, her innocence shining through like the sun on a spring day.
“Does he enjoy tourneys? I have heard the King was quite the warrior, he and father fought together.” Sansa continues, resting her chin in her hand.
You smooth out the nonexistent wrinkles in your skirts. “Joffrey has not competed in any tourneys quite yet, Lady Sansa, he is too young.”
“He is three and ten, is he not? Most squire by one and ten, why has he not been sent to one of your bannermen like his uncle?” Robb says, taking a long drink from his glass.
“My mother does not wish for him to get injured; he is heir to the throne, after all.” Myrcella chimes in, saving you from coming up with another excuse for why Joffrey has not been allowed to leave King’s Landing.
Sansa nods and gazes longingly at Joffrey once more. “That seems most wise, what a dutiful mother Queen Cersei is.”
“Where is your mother, Lady y/n? I did not see anyone else arrive.” Bran, one of the younger Starks asks, his round innocent face not dulling the sting of his words at all.
Myrcella takes your hand under the tables and squeezes it. She has been privy to the nights of crying, of mourning the mother you would never know.
“Bran, that is not polite.” Sansa hisses.
You shake your head, a soft smile on your face. “My mother died giving birth to me, but I am told she held me in her arms before the Stranger came for her, that she named me and spoke of how dearly she loved me.”
Bran makes a soft noise of apology, and the conversation lulls, until finally you have finished your meal and are free to retire to your chambers.
You wave off any offer to escort you, telling them all you wish to admire the architecture of Winterfell in solitude.
It’s not wholly a lie, though you cannot say you ever wish to be alone , you enjoy the company of others, are invigorated by it, but tonight feels different. Perhaps it is the mention of your mother, or the false face Joffrey is putting on for the Starks and their bannermen, the sound of his laughter ringing about the hall. You wander the halls of Winterfell with a faint knowledge of where the guest chambers lie, when you find yourself approaching the training yard. The night is quiet, snow falling gently, the brisk air seizes your lungs, purifying them with an icy chill.
You are not alone, the thud of blunt metal upon wood, the sounds of exertion, the turn of boots in snow covered dirt. You slowly move towards the sound, knowing your father will scold you later for such carelessness. There are countless people here, and you cannot be assured they all wish you well.
Jon Snow, the ever so distracting bastard, stands in the middle of the yard, training alone, the moonlight shining down on him, making his pale skin glisten. You rest your hand on the stone archway, one foot on the dirt, the other still firmly planted on the stone. You should leave him alone, you know it, but you’re mesmerized by the sight, the tension in his muscles, the expanse of his back, the strength in his arms. He is a little older than you, six and ten to your five and ten, both old enough to be married, yet both remaining unbetrothed.
There had been offers for your hand, even though you were the imp’s child, and many wondered if you would sire broken children, if you would pass on your father’s curse. But for the gold that backed your name many were willing to risk it. You didn’t like your suitors, they were too brash, too lewd, too old, or simply just not right.
Jon stops and lifts his tunic to wipe the sweat from his brow. His stomach is toned, his skin mostly smooth, though there are some faded scars.
Yes, they were simply not right, they did not look like that.
You feel heat rise to your cheeks and you avert your eyes. What were you, a child? A lovesick maid? You have spent no more than mere minutes in his presence, and already you are lusting after him like some silk street whore? It must be the chill that is muddling your mind, yes, the chill. Not the kindness that you saw within him as he played with Arya and Bran in the courtyard earlier in the day. Or the way he stood stiff lipped while Joffrey threw barbed insults at him as he passed him in the hall, or the stack of novels you had overheard the maester say were to be set aside for him. Merely the chill. The chill and the flights of fancy all young girls are prone to.
With that in mind, you wait until he has returned his tunic to its rightful place and step fully into the snow.
He turns on his heel, weapon at the ready. He is perceptive, you note, good reflexes, excellent hearing, fine form, carved from marble, glowing like a god in the moonlight.
Gods y/n, pull yourself together.
“My apologies, I did not mean to startle you.” You say, wrapping your cloak tighter around you. It is thin, far too thin to wear in the chill of night.
Jon lowers his sword. “Lady Lannister, why are you not inside at the feast? Are you lost?”
“Yes.” You lie, batting your eyelashes at him, crafting your expression into one of helplessness. “I wished to return to my chamber, but I lost my way.”
Jon stows his sword and retrieves his cloak from a nearby rack. “I will escort you, if you do not take offense?”
You tilt your head in faux confusion. “Why would I take offense?”
He shuffles his feet and busies himself with his cloak. “You are a lady of a great house, and I am…” He lets the unspoken words hang in the air, and you have the grace to act surprised.
“Oh, yes, right, you are a Snow.” You say, taking a step towards him and extending your hand, waiting to set it on his arm. “Well, I care not if you are a Stark or a Snow, I am sure you are more than capable of escorting me to the guest chambers of your home.”
He ducks his head, that delightful blush returning to his cheeks, and he holds out his arm for you.
You take it gratefully, allowing him to guide you back towards the way you came. The wind blows through the yard as you walk and cuts straight through your thin cloak, a shiver shooting down your spine.
Before you can blink, Jon has draped his cloak over you, clasping it shut with a surprising boldness. “It is far too cold for such a thin cloak; you must remember to wear your furs if you find yourself wandering out here once more.”
You look up at him through your lashes, your heart skipping a beat at the proximity between you and him, the depth of his dark eyes. “And if I were to wander out here again…might I be able to count on you to escort me? I must confess I find the halls of Winterfell quite confusing.”
He lingers for a moment, drinking you in, his head nodding almost imperceptibly, then he wrenches himself away, his gaze set forward. “Anyone in Winterfell would be more than able to escort you, My Lady.”
You nod, feeling the sting of rejection. It’s no matter, this is only the first night, there’s still plenty of time.
Yes I used a Hozier line bc it's perfect for the vibe of this fic
#meg's writing#jon snow x reader#jon snow x you#jon snow x oc#jon snow imagine#jon snow#tyrion lannister#lannister!reader#new series alert!#I know y'all don't want this but I wanted to make the title thing so bad#tyrion's daughter#theon greyjoy x sansa stark#theon greyjoy#sansa stark#got fanfiction#robb stark
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Robb: I think I have a crush on Theon
Jon: Theon as in Theon Greyjoy?
Robb: Yes. Thoughts?
Jon: And prayers dude, seven hells
#robb: jon you just dont know him like i do#jon: and thats the only blessing the gods gave me#robb: >:(#a song of ice and fire#game of thrones#asoiaf#got#asoiaf incorrect quotes#got incorrect quotes#robb stark#jon snow#theon greyjoy#theon x robb#throbb#still hate this ship name#jon hates them#but he loves them#but he hates them
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it'd be cool to see some theon fluff :) maybe from the era after he escapes from ramsey bc that boy deserves some comfort omg (also if you could use he/him pronouns that would be cool too!)
Theon*Dream of Sweet Memories
Pairing: Theon x m!reader
Platonic: Jon, Robb, Sansa, x reader
Summary: Reader helps Theon recover from a nightmare and reflects on their past
Tw: Theon having ptsd
Word count: 1474
Masterlist Here
Winterfell felt colder than before. The hollow halls of your childhood had been through so much the past few years. Now you were back, the war was over, Sansa was queen in the North, Bran in the south. Robb was dead, Jon was gone, Arya too. Sansa was kind but you had never been close. Your family was all but gone as well. There was one thing left though one thing that made all the pain, all the suffering, the war worth it.
Theon lay asleep on your bed, his face relaxed as he slumbered. The last candle that was burner illuminated a small portion of the room but enough for you to admire his features in the candlelight. His hair was soft under your touch as you stroked it gently.
Moments like this were rare. Theon was skittish, paranoid, quiet. He’d never been this quiet before. Robb was the loud one who knocked into everything and everyone, who’s barking laugh rang across the hall. Theon was the funny one, always a joke up his sleeve that he would loudly proclaim to anyone who would hear. Jon was quiet in public but when the four of you would hang out in the stables he was just as loud as Theon, and they would banter long into the night.
Theon had always joked you were practically a mute. You liked to listen and laugh along, adding in your own comments occasionally. Theon tried to drag the conversation out of you. He’d ask a million questions just to get you to speak. Tell jokes just to make you laugh. It was usual for you to be left out of discussions, but Theon had always made sure to drag you into them even when you didn’t want him too.
You opened up more in your chambers, laughing and cheering with him especially after a drink. You’d both gossip like it was nobodies’ business. Theon was shocked when he found out you were actually funny. He spent months, years, growing your confidence but even still you were always the quiet one.
Till now at least. Theon could barely look you in the eyes when you were reunited. He was ashamed. Ashamed of everything he had done, everything he had caused. Jon wanted to hate him, wanted you to hate him, but he couldn’t after he saved Sansa. You wanted to hate him too, but you couldn’t. you had thought for months if you ever saw him again the first thing you would do was punch him. Then he walked through those gates.
He was meek, quiet, skittish. He looked like even walking was a battle for him. And gods were he skinny now. When he walked through the gates you weren’t angry. A warmth poured through your heart. Theon looked up and instantly away again when he saw you. he couldn’t face you.
You didn’t even realise you were walking, running even, till you had pulled him into your arms. Theon froze at first, stiff as ice but it soon melted. His head fell into your shoulder, his arms wrapping weakly around your waist. Your hand clamped against his head, holding it tight against you, “If you ever leave me again, I’ll fucking kill you Greyjoy, understand?”
He hadn’t left your side since. You had been so distracted by your thoughts you hadn’t noticed him stirring. You looked down at his face which was contorted with worry, his lips mouthing something you couldn’t fully hear. Leaning down, you tried to listen, “Please,” you managed to make out, “not please,” he mumbled, “no, no, no,” he began to rush out, you sat up about to shake him awake when a shrill shriek rang across the room.
Theon’s cried echoed around the cold chamber, his body stiff as a bored as his body flung himself up, backing away up the bed. “Theon!” you yelled, trying to grab his flailing arms, “It’s me! Its (Y/N)! You’re safe,” you said as you grabbed his shoulders.
Theon’s eyes danced crazily across the room till they settled on you, his hands grasping onto your shoulders, “(Y/N)?” he asked.
“Yes, it’s me my love,” you said as you held his face softly in your hands, “It’s just us you’re safe Theon,”
“No, Im not Theon im- “
“Reeks dead Theon,” you said, moving to kneel on either sides of his legs so you could face him straight on, “Ramsay’s dead Theon. Its okay. you’re safe I promise,”
Theon stopped for a moment, his eyes dazed as he stared into space before finally turning back to you, “I was so scared,” he whimpered, “it was like he was back,”
“He’s not coming back Theon,” you said, stroking his cheek, “I’m here sweetheart. I’ve got you,”
“You’ve got me,” he whispered, and you just nodded, smiling lightly at the terrified boy.
You moved to be laying on the bed again, bringing Theon into your arms as you cradled his shaking body, “Nothings gonna happen to you. I promise,” you said, kissing the back of his head.
Heavy sobs fell from his lips, shaking his body. The feeling brought tears to your own eyes but all you could do was hold him. “I wish I could be normal again,” Theon whispered.
“You will be,” you said as you began to stroke his hair, “but it’ll take time,”
Silence fell over the room for a moment, “Sometimes,” Theon began to croak out, “I wonder if I deserved it all, for what I did to Robb, to you,”
A heavy sigh fell from your lips, “No one deserves what Ramsay did to you. no one. It’s a fate worse than death but you survived it because you’re strong, because it’s your fate to go on. If things had went differently Robb would’ve forgiven, you. you know that”
“That just makes it worse,” he whispered, his voice horse from his whimpering, “I wish I had stayed with him. At least he treated me like family, he was my family,”
“We cannot change the past,” you said as you moved Theon to face you, stroking his cheek lightly, “But we can live for the future. You saved Sansa, you helped save Bran. Robb would be grateful for that. Now you must live for him, protect Winterfell for him,” you said, and Theon just nodded.
You pressed a kiss to his forehead and fell into a comfortable silence. Before the war Theon had just been a friend to you though you couldn’t help your stares after him. The way his laugh light up a room, his jokes never failing to cheer you up, how his smile curved. He fascinated you. he didn’t admit it, but he had always felt the same.
You grew even closer when you both rode off with Robb, sharing a tent to save on supplies. There had been a moment, one night after a particularly hard battle. The cold was settling in, and it was bitter.
******
“Your chattering so loud Tywin can hear,” Theon whispered from across the tent as he sat up beneath his thin furs. “Get over here,”
“I um but what if someone- “
“Get under these furs before we freeze to death,” he said rolling his eyes. You did as you had been told as slipped under the furs beside the boy. “See already better,” he whispered.
You rolled over to face the other side of the tent to try concealing the blush coating your cheeks. However, you were confused when you heard Theon shuffling then blushed even harder when you felt his arms reach around your body, “What are you doing?” you whispered back.
“I can’t have my best friend freezing to death,” he replied. At one point that night Theon had obviously figured you had fallen asleep, but you were still awake enough to feel the kiss he placed to your cheek, laying still as he settled back down until his soft snores filled the tent.
******
“We should visit the crypt tomorrow,” Theon said breaking the silence, “I want to see him again,”
“Okay,” you said, kissing his lips gently. He had visited Robbs statue many times since it had been placed in the crypts. Neither Robb nor Neds’ bodies had made it to the crypt, but Sansa had still ordered for their statues to be placed there. The last lord of Winterfell and its first king in this new dynasty. A statue of Catelyn and Rickon at either side. “We’ll go at first light but for now we must rest,”
“Okay,” Theon whispered as he placed his head on your chest. You had almost dozed off when he spoke again, “(Y/N)?” he asked, and you yawned a what. “I love you,”
“I love you too,” you murmured back as your eyelids grew heavy, “Sleep my love. Dream of sweet memories,”
General Taglist: @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy @fan-goddess @valeskafics
#theon#theon greyjoy#theon greyjoy imagine#theon greyjoy x reader#theon greyjoy x male reader#theon greyjoy x you#theon imagine#theon x reader#theon got#game of thrones#game of thrones imagine#game of thrones fluff#game of thrones x reader#got#got imagine#got x you#got x reader#game of thrones x you#got fluff#theon greyjoy fluff#theon greyjoy angst
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What We Sow
Pairing: Theon Greyjoy x Greyjoy!Reader
Warnings: game of thrones canonical siblingxsibling, sister-wife, violence, dark!reader?, euron being an asshat, voyeurism?, mention of torture, book!theon, oral (male receiving), p in v
Words: 6425
The rugged coastline of Pyke was the greatest thing to Theon's eyes. It meant his return home after a long journey that was filled with trading with not only the rest of Westeros but also smaller islands off the coast of Essos. Water churned with a restless energy, reflecting the overcast sky above. The Iron Islands had always been a place of harsh beauty, where the relentless sea and the unforgiving elements shaped both the land and its people. To an outsider's eye, the Iron Islands might appear as an eyesore, a desolate and forbidding place where life was a constant battle against the elements. Craggy cliffs, salt-stained rocks, and windswept trees clinging stubbornly to life. The sky, today, was an uninviting gray, as if the heavens themselves were reluctant to welcome Theon back. All of it was so endearing to him though. Theon couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness welling up inside him. Very soon he'd be able to hold his beloved in his arms.
This was his home, a place where the salt of the sea and the cries of seagulls were a constant presence and where you were. Waiting so patiently as always. His queen, his sister, his wife. He'd been dreaming of the moment when he'd be reunited with you after so long.
As the ship glided into the sheltered harbor, Theon could see the familiar faces of his subjects lining the shore, their weathered features breaking into smiles as they recognized their king. Faces that would have sneered at him previously since he'd been a ward of the Warden of the North for a number of years. Who would have thought that the salt people were actually capable of expressing joy.
King. Funny how the title his father had longed for was now Theon's. Smugness swells his chest when he thinks back to the salty old bastard that was Balon Greyjoy. He wished that Balon had a physical grave where Theon and you could dance upon it. No love lost for the death of their father. In fact it was the start of something wonderful for the Iron Isles. Not since the time of Lord Harren Greyjoy had the islands experienced such a flush of opportunity and growth. And of course he had you to thank as well. You were his anchor. The only person who could talk reason into him and quell his anger.
He would not be the king he was without you. Loving you had never been easy. While the faith of the Drowned God did not have any discrimination against incest, many in Westeros looked down on it as a reminder of their once Targaryen rulers. Not just that but the Faith of the Seven viewed it as extremely abhorrent. Your love was kept a deep dark secret while the two of you lived under the guiding hand of Ned Stark. The salt people didn't think twice of it though. Theon proved himself a better ruler than his father and everyone knew much of that was thanks to his sister-wife. They wouldn't complain. Now that many of the islanders were becoming more busy thanks to the opening of trade through their ports and the reconstruction of not just Pyke, but the other six islands as well.
Dock workers and sailors alike help those on deck, unload their cargo as Theon descends the gangplank, boots clanging against the wooden planks as he made his way to solid ground. The feel of the dock beneath his feet was a welcome one.
"Oy! Is that my brother the king?!" Came the crowing voice of his other sister Asha. She was on a neighboring ship the Black Wind, dangling off of one of the ratlines carelessly.
He grins, surveying her as Asha swiftly jumps down. A dockhand hands Theon the reins of his readied horse. He nods in thanks and turns back to Asha who was now strutting up the dock to give her brother a big hug. Their relationship had been rocky in the beginning when Theon first arrived back on the isles.
"Asha! Can't believe I'm actually saying this, but aren't you a sight for sore eyes." His arms embrace his older sister, bringing her into probably a less than fragrant body.
Asha snorts and is the first to release the hug. "A mule would be a sight for sore eyes for you by how long you've been gone." Her eyes soften as she gestures with her head toward their home. "The queen has been missing you."
"As I have missed her." Theon's chest flutters as it always did when he thought of you. You were his heart and soul after all.
She chuffs him on the shoulder. "Well, best not to keep either of you waiting then, eh?"
They ride off together. While he knew you were a patient lady, Theon was not. He wanted you in his arms as soon as possible. He urged his horse to go as fast as it could run along the rocky terrain.
Constructed from the same dark, weathered stone as the surrounding cliffs, giving it an almost otherworldly appearance as it melded seamlessly with its natural surroundings was their ancestral home. It was a place where saltwater spray had etched its mark, leaving streaks of briny residue on the walls that bore witness to countless storms. A series of narrow bridges and walkways connected the various towers and buildings of the castle, each one precariously suspended above the churning waters below. The cause of Balon's demise.
The main keep, which housed the Greyjoy family, rose from the center of the fortress like a dark, brooding sentinel. Its towering, angular walls were crowned with crenellations that cast stark shadows against the overcast sky. Theon could see the Greyjoy banner, a kraken of black on a field of gold, billowing in the wind above the keep, a symbol of his family's dominion over the Iron Islands.
Making it into the fortress' stables, Theon and Asha dismount from his horse and handed the reins to a waiting stable hand. Those who had spotted his arrival on horseback had come out to greet their king and his most trusted advisor. An up and rising young lord from Blacktyde, Kyllan Stewar, takes Theon by the forearm as was the custom greeting.
"Welcome back, Your Grace." Kyllan's smile is wide despite cracked lips that were common in this weather.
"Good to be back, Lord Stewar." Theon replies though his attention is elsewhere. "My queen?"
"Where else would our exuberant queen be?" Lord Kyllan chuckles knowingly. There was only one answer: the training yard.
Much like your siblings, you grew restless sitting around in a pretty dress. You loathed needlework and playing instruments of any kind. Your fingers weren't meant for delicate tasks. They were meant to wield deadly weapons.
You prefer to spend your days out in the fresh, salt air with either a blade or bow grasped in your hand.
The moment you spot Theon and Asha walking into the yard though, you let your sword fall to the ground; quickly forgetting about the young knight that you had been sparring with. Your legs move faster than your mind could think, on instinct they run toward Theon.
He collides into you, strong arms sweeping you up and off your feet. His grip could be considered suffocating to any other woman. You want him to break your bones though. To absorb you into his body so that you could always be with him.
"It's about damn time." You dig your fingers into his black hair, twisting the locks around your digits as Theon is now completely holding you up. Nostrils flare as you inhale his musky scent that mingles with the salty air. A primal smell stuck to your brother from weeks without a proper bath. But it was all him. "What took you so long?"
Theon chuckles and peppers the crown of your head in numerous butterfly kisses. "My apologies, your grace. There was lots of trading to be done overseas. Our oysters and mussels are the talk of the kingdom." You didn't like when he pulls away from you and you feel a pout rising on your lips until he crashes his mouth against your's. Relenting, you meet his hungry fervor; biting his bottom lip and keeping it as your captive for a moment before diving back into the kiss.
In the background, you hear the clearing of Asha's throat as she reminds the both of you that you were among other lords who were watching the reunion unfold. While many didn't care about your incestuous relationship, they didn't necessarily like being reminded of it with displays of affection. Not caring for what they think, Theon would have continued on kissing you until the sun went down, but you were more tactical and didn't want to make anyone uncomfortable, especially toward men who supported Theon's claim to the salt throne.
Sighing, you pat Theon on his chest and ignore his frustrated groan and turn him around to face his men. They stand straighter at his attention. "Men, our feast tonight will be overflowing with the finest red meat Westeros had to offer us!"
They cheer, red meat had been a rarity in the islands besides goat and lamb they could spare. Actual beef was worth more than any gold dragon to them. The Crownlands boast the most cattle and they just so happened to enjoy the large oysters that were abundant in the Iron Islands. Even your mouth watered at the thought of the meat being unloaded into the kitchens of the castle.
Heading back to the Greyjoy fortress, Theon cocks his head toward you with that smug grin of his. Holding out his arm to you in a warm gesture. "My queen, shall we follow?"
Immediately you latch onto his extended arm. You wouldn't be leaving his side any time soon. You plan on monopolizing his attention for the rest of the evening. Damn the other lords who have important business to discuss with him. You were Theon's number one priority.
"What the fuck is he doing here." You didn't bother to keep the vulgarity from your vocabulary nor the venom that dripped off of every word you hissed out. It wasn't phrased as a question. A demand more like it from the lord who had delivered the news that your uncle Euron had shown up on the docks like he owned the place.
Heat rose to your cheeks and down your neck at what this threat could bring to the prosperity of the islands. Euron could potentially fuck up everything you and Theon worked so hard to build.
Theon watches his sister's rare temper come to surface. There was little that could truly tick you off enough that you would raise your voice. He almost found it amusing since it was an event that didn't happen often. That's why he merely leans back in his throne and observes you in all of your haughty splendor.
"Well. . . he says since Balon is dead that he should be able to return to Pyke." The lord hesitantly continues, nervous eyes dart to Theon a bit helplessly but Theon was not going to be the one to stop you from fuming.
Asha barks out a cruel laugh. "Oh that's rich. Like that's going to undo the baby he put in the belly of Victarion's saltwife. Or bring her back to life."
Victarion who was present in the throne room, glares at his niece for her callousness. Both Victarion and Aeron did share her sentiment about Euron though. He should not be let back into the inner circle of the family.
Another liege lord pipes in "He's making quite the ruckus out in the courtyard. He's insisting an audience with you, your grace."
Indeed, everyone in the audience chamber could hear Euron's booming voice from the other hall. Grating on your nerves, you look to Theon to gauge his reaction just to find him still staring at you. Lazily his lips curl into a smile now that he had your intention.
You would have found it cute any other time, but your patience was wearing incredibly thin. "Well? We're going to turn him away, aren't we? He has no place here in our Iron Islands. We do not raid anymore. He is a reminder of that century old practice that near ruined us."
The way you spoke with such authority really did get Theon's cock hard but this was no place or time for a hard-on. "I understand why you and many others may not want him back on Pyke." He kept his eyes solely on you as if you were the only one he was talking to. "But Euron does know how to rouse the people into work."
"That can be a bad thing, my love. He can rouse people the wrong way. We do not want to go back to paying the iron price. That's not how this world works anymore. It's evolving. We're evolving." Your words may have come off as harsh, but honestly you were scared. Scared that Theon could see the fear in your eyes too. So much had been done for the islands. Your people were now prospering and not being looked down by the rest of the world. There were even some from Faircastle and Banefort coming and joining the faith of the Drowned Man which made your Uncle Aeron jump for joy (that is if he was capable of such an intense emotion).
"Like usual, your queen is right." Aeron quips. Theon nearly rolls his eyes but manages to keep them trained on you. Where was the lie though? Even Theon knew it was you who really ran things around here. You'd always been smarter than him. You were the baby of the family but acted like the eldest.
His smile softens. "I know she is. But we should at least hear him out. If only for a few moments."
"Just a few minutes." Huffing in your own throne, you flick your gaze to the lord who had informed you of Euron's arrival. "The very moment he steps out of line, I want him off our island. He would be grateful enough that we let him leave with his life."
Oh, he wanted to fuck you right in front of everyone that instant. Have you bent over his throne and wear the seadrift crown as he rails into you. All of that would have to wait though. There was no way you were as horny as he was right now.
With his consent, Euron was brought in.
He leisurely waltzes in, a familiar cocky grin plastered on his face that resembled the one your brother usually wore. You didn't like it on his face. Once his eyes land on you though, his smile dims. "Well, you grew up into quite the beauty."
You resist the urge to vomit. "Uncle, what brings you here to Pyke? Our father banished you. That banishment still remains."
Euron all but chuckles at the lofty air you carried about you. A gleam of reverence shimmers in his visible blue eye. The other that was covered with an eyepatch, you knew, was deep black much like his soul. It takes effort for him to retract his attention from you and to finally regard your brother, the king, seated next to you. "I wanted to see my beloved family. Excuse me, the King and Queen of the Iron Islands. Imagine my shock to learn that my niece and nephew took up the Targaryen custom of marrying one another. Balon must be rolling in his watery grave. I was even more shocked to see Pyke. The two of you have really cleaned up the place. The soil actually has greenery to it now."
Theon remained quiet, observing his uncle and the way the Crow's Eye would size you up every now and then as he was speaking. A long time ago, he would have immediately felt the sizzle of jealousy. He was a grown man now. His love for you had evolved above jealousy as you had reassured him through the years that you were his and he was your's. Even Robb Stark wasn't able to woo you away from him, though the match would have been beneficial to both the Starks and Greyjoys. And there was absolutely no way you would reciprocate Euron's lustful stares. Theon could see you physically recoil at his leering.
Subtly, his hand lands atop of your's, pulling you away from Euron. He smiles softly before replying "Yes, Pyke has come a long way since you've been here. The old ways were not beneficial to our people and unfortunately you still represent that. You can imagine the threat you pose to our achievements, uncle."
Victarion could be heard grumbling from off to the side where Aeron hushes him into silence. It doesn't go unnoticed by Euron who shoots his brother an goading wink that only furthered Victarion's flush of anger.
"Threat? I bring no threat." Euron chuckles and takes a step toward your throne. Asha who was silently standing next to you puts herself between you and Euron, sending a message that he was not to come any closer. Her hand moves to her sword, eyes hard with her warning. "I wish to be part of the greatness you have created here! Even in Essos I've heard of the prospering Iron Islands. Did you know your products have reached even that of Qarth?"
Of course you knew. No traders left without the crown's consent.
"What makes you think you have anything to offer the islands?" Asha sneers. His words were as trustworthy as a snake's.
His smile twitches in vexation. "I am a changed man, niece." He spits out the last word with mirth. "I have my dearly departed brother Balon to thank for that. His banishment was actually the best thing for me. My years spent wandering Essos has tempered me into a wiser and more resourceful man. I have newfound knowledge that would greatly contribute to the Iron Islands. I wish only to serve."
Putting on quite the display of fealty, Euron bends the knee to you and Theon; bowing his head deeply in reverence.
Murmurs spring up in the throne room. Many were those of doubts. Some were of intrigue. Your hand that was under Theon's curl letting Theon know of your disquiet thoughts. Theon flicks his attention on the other lords lingering around. "Leave us."
While the lords obeyed their king, your other two uncles were more hesitant to leave. This was a family matter afterall and they deserved a say in whatever decision you and Theon made.
"You two as well." He informs Victarion and Aeron.
Pursing his lips, Victarion is dragged away by Aeron Damphair. His scornful glare never leaves Euron who waves at them tauntingly.
When their footsteps fade away, Theon surprises you by standing up. You and Asha exchange wary glances before you too stand next to your husband. As a trio, you and your siblings walk down the raised dais to stand directly in front of Euron. Up close you do notice that he wasn't that bad looking. You would even call him handsome, much like Theon. They must have gained all the good looks in the Greyjoy family.
"Walk with us, uncle." Theon beseeches.
"Please stop glaring at me like that." Theon hated when you were upset with him. Euron had proved that he indeed possessed knowledge that would be beneficial to the islands which irritated both you and Asha even more.
"This is a bad idea, Theon." Pacing back and forth in your chambers, all you could think of was the calamity that Euron's presence could bring. Anxiously you chew on your cuticles, a nasty habit you'd had since childhood. It soothed you though and dampened the swirling thoughts that plagued you.
He watches helplessly as you just refuse to be still. "My love-"
You shake your head. "Don't 'my love' me. I can't believe you're letting him stay. Others will have issue with this too."
Catching you by the hand, Theon implores you to still your body. Grudgingly you do stop your pacing only to frown at him. You didn't yank your hand out of his grip but allowed him to slowly pull you onto his lap. Once settled in, his thumb smoothes against your cheek. "Our supporters are many. People trust us. If Euron dares to raise a hand against either of us, he will face repercussions from our citizens. And don't forget Asha would never let him get close to our wing of the castle. I don't think she'll be sleeping tonight."
"I. . . I just remember the stories father would tell us about him." Your eyes flutter closed, grimacing with the thought of Balon's gravely voice recalling his treacherous brother.
"Your fears are valid. I know. I know he can't be completely trusted. But we're strong enough to handle him if he does get the idea in trying to harm us."
True. If Euron really knew the other side of you. . . he would not have returned at all. He would stay far away, the only wise thing to do.
Still sullen about the turn of events, all you could do was nod and place a small kiss on Theon's forehead.
"Very well."
You leave, not feeling any better. The clicking of your boots against the stone floor seemed incredibly loud in your ears. You hate how uneasy you feel in your own home. Like Euron would pop out of nowhere-
"Sweet niece."
Fuck.
Feeling stupid for leaving your sword behind, you reluctantly swivel on your heel to address your uncle. "Euron. You're not allowed here. Where are the attendants that we gave you?"
"I told them they could have the day off." Was all he would give you. Something spoiled your gut watching him strut toward you, thinking himself hot shit. Practically purring, his voice was smooth as the sea on a calm day, "You are a vision of beauty, even amidst the stormy shores of Pyke. Time on the mainland was good to you evidently."
Nails bite into your palm, the one thing keeping your facade neutral and gaze unwavering. Euron's silver tongue and beguiling charm was well known and he used it to seduce both men and women for both sex and war. "Your words are kind, uncle. But I must tell you that you should refrain from saying anymore from here on out."
His laugh grates against your hearing. "But we're family!" A dark undertone lowers his voice. "And apparently you have no problem with having family say sweet nothings to you. Or is that only for your brother?"
"Watch what you say." Your own tone is icy sharp. "You're lucky he even allowed you to stay here. You do not hold any kind of power in our court."
In faux defense, he holds up is hands. "My apologies, your grace. I see I have touched a nerve. I'm just saying, if blood is of no issue to you, then I willingly offer myself as a paramore to the queen. Loyalty can be such a confining chain. Why tether yourself to just one man? Have you ever tasted another's lips besides your brother's?"
Your eyes flash with a steely resolve as you step forward. "My loyalty is not a chain and you have stepped out of line. I need no other lover except for my king and husband, you unworthy worm. Get out of our wing before I truly lose my temper. If I even smell you here again I will have you hanged. Kin or not."
Like the rest of Westeros, kinslaying was beyond abhorrent. You did not make the promise lightly and Euron was aware that you would keep true to it.
Euron's demeanor shifted slightly, his charming facade cracking to reveal a hint of frustration and resentment. His lips curl with a retort but you raise your voice loud enough for any nearby guard to here. "GET OUT OF HERE."
The abrupt loudness of your voice actually causes him to take a step back. He weighs his options before ultimately skulking away.
"Are you alright, your grace?" A guard quickly rounds the corner to check on you.
"Have the guards doubled around our wing of the castle. By no means is Euron allowed here. If he is, then I insist on corporeal punishment."
Thank the gods Euron kept relatively quiet for the following days. Not a peep or sighting of him. You'd told Theon of your encounter with him. The treasonous things he said. He took it all in good humor, annoyingly so.
"He's just jealous." Theon nuzzles his nose against the warmth of your throat. Both of you were taking a break from honing your swordsmanship. Your sweat didn't bother him. In fact it appeared to entice him to lick a long line at your throat. "Jealous that you're all mine."
You blow out an exasperated puff of air. "Of course I am. That should be of no debate." The two of you are seated on a lone, grassy cliff that overlooks the tops of Pyke Castle. You enjoyed watching the busy port, the many sea vessels that were drifting upon the waves.
You didn't expect for your brother to take Euron's advances seriously.
He'd have to do something though once rumors from the taverns started to reach the castle.
Asha brought you the upsetting gossip which stemmed from your uncle. It was well recorded from many people how Euron would fall into his cups and talk of nothing but killing not just you, but Theon himself. He spoke openly of the kinslaying/regicide as if he were the better candidate to sit the salt throne.
There was a reason Asha came to you hesitantly. She knew what would happen once she told you that Euron had outright threatened Theon.
You couldn't let him live. Not after that. He could have just said he'd kill you. The moment he said he'd kill Theon you'd already made up your mind that you would take the situation into your own hands.
"Gather everyone in the castle to the bailey. Make sure Theon and Euron are in attendance." The coldness in your eyes could make any weather worn warrior tremble in front of you.
Asha actually smiles at the prospect of seeing this side of her sister released to the open. "Of course. I'll get right on it."
You listen to her walk away, your focus still on the sword behind the case you kept it in. Your sword.
--
When you challenge you uncle in front all of the household, all Euron does is bark out a laugh that has him rocking on his feet.
"You're joking, of course you must be joking." One arm is pressed against his stomach as another laugh wheezes out of him. When he finds everyone else with a sober face, he straightens up. Unwilling to let his condescending smile fall. Others were serious about this, awaiting his answer.
Behind you, Theon hisses out a desperate whisper "What are you doing?"
You're still staring at Euron. "He's been boasting about killing you. I can't allow him to keep saying such things."
That was all Theon needed to hear. He recognized the tightening of your posture, a spine like iron. This wasn't his queen anymore. This was a mercenary. Someone entirely different from his sweet sister who loved honeycakes and playing with the kennelmaster's puppies when there was free time. You weren't you and yet this part had always been woven into your being.
The only ending for Euron now was a slow and painful death. No one threatened the life of your brother and got away with it.
Euron finally replies, his tone dripping with mockery. "I accept your challenge. But be warned, I am not one to be taken lightly. Even if you are queen and blood. Whatever happens to you, I will not be held accountable for."
As the duel begins, Euron lunges forward with swift, calculated strikes. His years of experience at sea granted him an uncanny balance and agility, making him a formidable opponent. That was well known knowledge. He was capable of holding up his own in a fight. He was fast, but there was no one in the known world who could match your almost dancer's grace, movements precise and deliberate. You didn't have to be physically intimidating and neither did your sword. Slender, sharp, and double-edged you deftly parry each of Euron's attacks, focus unwavering.
It didn't take long for Euron to realize the grave mistake he'd made by agreeing to fighting you. With a fluid grace that belied strength, you disarm Euron in a swift, unexpected maneuver, sending his sword clattering to the ground.
With his lone, blue eye, he stares at it. He doesn't even catch your voice telling your men to bind him and toss him into the dungeon to await the king and queen.
Their hands are not gentle.
Fists split his face open. Another thing Euron had underestimated was how much they loved their sovereigns.
At some point, Euron fell unconscious. He's slow to rouse awake, head lolling from shoulder to shoulder as he stirs. Pain explodes on every known surface of his body. They must have continued to beat him even as he passed out.
Moving his mouth, he finds a gag placed over it. Vaguely he was able to make out muffled voices.
"Good, you're up."
A sharp slap to his face was what truly wakes him up. He finds his eyepatch was removed. One black eye and one blue eye wildly gape at you and Theon.
"Your death has been voted on by not just ourselves, but the lords of the Iron Islands as well." Theon announces, his expression passive. "We will grant you a private execution to lessen your humiliation. However, there has been a special request. You have the honor of being executed by the very woman that made you look like a fool."
Euron was half-listening though, distracted by what you were doing behind Theon. Your hands are busy unlacing your bodice, letting free your breasts. His throat clenches at the sight. You weren't paying either men any of your attention as you went on to remove the rest of your cumbersome clothing, leaving you naked.
"But not before my queen and I demonstrate our. . . united front." Theon's lips curl when he catches on that his words fall on deaf ears. Euron was entirely consumed with watching you perch yourself on a chair he hadn't noticed before. The dip of your hips was hypnotizing.
Only when you're fully seated do you look at your uncle. Legs crossed and tits pushed forward, you were downright sinful just sitting there. A cruel smile on her pretty lips. "I like you a lot better like this, Uncle Euron. My king, you've wasted enough time on him. Why don't you come over here?" Syrupy sweet when you turn to your brother.
Theon turns his back on Euron. Happy to obey his queen's demands. There was nothing left to say to him.
Undoing the clasp of his fur cape, he lays it out at your feet like a rug. Watching his nephew undress would not be as nice as watching you. Theon's bare back was that of a grown man's, broad and muscled and covered in scars. A testament to the turbulent symphony of his tumultuous life. Inked verses of his existence, painted by the relentless hand of adversity. The little boy was gone. Dead.
This was the King of the Iron Islands.
You shift in your seat, pussy already throbbing with the need for Theon's cock to fill it. What a pretty cock he had too. A blossom pink bulb of a head that was supported by a long, weighty shaft. Just thinking about it had your cheeks warming and your breathing become shallow.
Euron muffles, attempting to pull free of his confines.
His struggle music to your ears. You bite your bottom lip, chewing on it as your hand creeps between your legs. "Yes, louder if you will." You wanted to remember Euron like this. Helpless, being a captive audience for you and Theon. You would drive the point into his head, as one would a nail in wood, that Theon life and being were your's. And you were possessive over your things to a dangerous degree. When someone threatened the safety and happiness of Theon, you took it personally. Who thought they had the authority to kill him? Only you did, but you would never.
Your slick already covered the insides of your upper thighs, dripping down onto your seat. The only thing to pull your focus away from Euron was Theon pulling down his breeches to reveal his swollen, feverish cock. Practically springing out and begging for your lips around it. The softness of his cloak cushions your knees as you slide off and in front of Theon. His hand lovingly brushes against the top of your head.
"I understand you in some degree, uncle." Theon's voice is raspy, your mouth opening and leaning forward to wrap around the bulbous tip of his dick. He lets you suckle for a moment before continuing "If she were not mine, I too would be driven to jealousy and perhaps want to kill whatever lucky man had the honor of sleeping next to her." His eyes rove over your face, a twitch to his cock at the hollowing of your cheeks and the bobbing of your head. Fingers tighten around the tresses that adorned the crown of your head. He slams his length all the way to the back of your throat, making you gag. Tears accumulate on your bottom lashes but you will your throat to relax. Expertly breathing through your nose as you take him. You could feel your throat bulge, barely able to contain his girth let alone allow it down your throat. Saliva dribbles out of the corner of your mouth. He face fucks you, each snap of his hips pulling out a gagging noise from you.
Obscene squelching emits from the velvety drag of his dick down your throat and along your tongue. Usually he enjoyed cumming in your mouth. Theon would have to restrain himself this time.
Sharply Theon's sharp canine tooth pierces the plump flesh of his lower lip as he uses all of his strength to yank you off of him. "Hands and knees, my love."
Maneuvering around him so that Euron could watch you position yourself in front of your king. Your ass raises high, exposing your puffy, wet pussy for Theon's gaze to feast on. He takes a moment to appreciate the work of messy art in front of him with a smug grin.
"To never know how it feels to fuck such a perfect pussy. . . I feel sorry for you." Flashing up to his uncle, Theon grabs the shaft of his cock and lined it up perfectly against your lower lips. You feel the blunt prodding as he makes small, experimental thrusts against you. A territorial growl rips from him that has your nipples hardening even more. "But you're lucky enough to witness this. For this to be the last thing you see before my queen severs your head from your neck."
Pulling back a margin, he propels his hips forward to fill you to the hilt. All you could do was pathetically grip at the fur pelt beneath you for any kind of stability. You let yourself be as loud as you want. Shamelessly so. Euron could see the whites of your eyes as Theon drilled into you with his cock. Your tits bounce with each snap of his hips. Skin on skin smacks together in a loud symphony that was accompanied by your high pitch cries and Theon's own sinful praises that he lavished upon your pussy.
Your upper body threatens to give out. "TH-Theon-" You rasp out between the slapping of his balls against your clit.
Reading your mind, he reaches under you and with a feather light finger starts to languidly stroke the hood of your clit; his thumb already toying with your swollen bead that could make you squirt if stimulated enough. Somehow he manages to lift you up without jostling you much so that your back was pressed against his bare chest. His hand holds your neck, the other going to support a thigh as he continues to fuck you. At least now you could see his cock impale you, breaking past your pussy lips and disappearing deep inside of you.
He feels your walls constrict at the new angle he was taking you from. Squeezing contractions that massaged his cock in the way that made him feel like he was but a wild beast, reduced to his baser instincts of simply rutting into you. Theon's vision grows blurry, his head hot.
When he feels you spasm around him, seizing up and squeezing the life out of his cock in your own euphoria, that's when Theon allowed himself to break. He shudders and grips you tightly against him. Teeth bite into your shoulder to help him ride out his orgasm.
You yourself feel light headed, delirious and almost forgetting where the two of you were. Everything around you melts into nothingness. There's just you and Theon, stuck together. His panting matching your own.
Theon's tender voice is barely audible in your ringing ears. There was something he was reminding you to do. Your faculties were shut down as you were slowly coming down.
Patiently chuckling, Theon kisses your cheek. "My love, we can continue this in our room. But there's something you need to do first."
That's right.
Euron's cheeks were flushed and there was a tent formed in his pants. You smirk thinking that he would die with a hard-on.
On wobbly legs, Theon helps you stabilize before handing you your sword.
More muffling comes from your uncle with each step you took toward him. Still naked and glowing with a light sheen of sweat.
He's offered no last words.
Your blade strikes fast and true, slicing past bone and cartilage; tearing arteries and veins so that his warm blood sprays onto your skin.
Thus was the fate of any man or woman who dared to think they could take your Theon away from you.
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#reader insert#reader insert fanfiction#game of thrones fanfiction#game of thrones fanfic#asoiaf fanfiction#game of thrones#asoiaf fanfic#asoiaf fandom#theon greyjoy#theon greyjoy x reader#theon greyjoy x you#theon greyjoy fanfic#theon greyjoy fanfiction#theon greyjoy reader insert#a song of ice and fire x you#a song of ice and fire x reader#a song of ice and fire fanfic#a song of ice and fire fanfiction#request
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modern high school au throbb where robb is a golden boy, a’s and b’s student, captain of the football team and theon is his problematic stoner loser boyfriend or at least that’s whatever perceives them as but in reality theon is a highly driven and ambitious person who is driven crazy by the fact that everyone perceives him as lazy and he has a constant need for validation that leads to him making dumb decisions in order to get it from people and also robb is cracking under the weight of the expectation he has put himself under as the eldest son of a rich and influential family and it’s made even worse by the fact that he is afraid to tell people that he is struggling because he doesn’t want them to think less of him but neither of them have healthy coping mechanisms so instead they smoke weed together under the bleachers and also make out.
#oh and also they both suffer from internalized homophobia#sorry for ranting#hope you understand#asoiaf#game of thrones#robb stark#theon greyjoy#throbb#theon x robb#asoiaf modern au#game of thrones modern au
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theon is so tragic because he is dedicated to a dead man. he’s swaying on cue, mimicking you, and the way that you shake (gold- penny and sparrow) he’s from the destruction, out of the flame. you need a villain, give me a name. I'll be your friend in the daylight again. (salt and the sea, the lumineres) he’s i hope you know i grew my hair out long and your sister’s just fine. i keep burning my bridges down just to keep you alive. (carlo’s song- noah kahan) he’s but i’ll come around some day (the lament of eustace scrub- the oh hellos)
he’s giving all he has for robb and robb will give nothing back to him, not because he wouldn’t have wanted to, but because he’s already dead and theon loves a dead man and will forever tug his ghost behind him. robb will forever be bursting into the feast of the dead, bleeding from a hundred wounds, and theon will forever be staring at him as the doors swing open.
#asoiaf#theon greyjoy#robb stark#robb stark theon greyjoy#throbb#theon x robb#robb x theon#theon greyjoy you will always be famous#my favorite doomed by the narrative lost prince#a song of ice and fire
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From Beyond The Wall
Part 1
The wind begins to howl mournfully, swirling snowflakes dancing in the air like lost spirits. The mountain remained still as night began to fall, leaving the brothers of the nights watch in the darkness of the north.
The fire crackles weakly, struggling against the encroaching cold, casting long shadows that flicker and dance across the frozen ground.
"Can you feel it, Jon?" one brother mutters, his teeth chattering as he huddles closer to the feeble warmth.
"A storm's coming. I can smell it in the air." Jon, his cloak pulled tight around him, nods solemnly. "Aye, a blizzard's upon us. We'll need to find better shelter if we're to survive the night."
In the cover of darkness beyond the glow of the fire, Y/n and her group lurk like shadows, their breath forming wisps of vapor in the frigid air. Ygritte, her fiery hair barely visible in the dim light, leans in close to Y/n, her voice barely above a whisper.
"We strike now, while they're weak and unprepared," she says, her blue eyes gleaming with determination. "We'll catch them by surprise, before the blizzard engulfs us all."
Y/n nods, her fingers tightening around the reins of her white horse, its breath steaming in the cold night air. "Agreed. Move on my signal.”
Y/n continue to watch in silence, glancing between the brothers and the free folk. She nodded to Ygritte, grasping her bow from the leather pouch. Y/n and her group emerge from the darkness, the crunch of snow beneath their boots muffled by the howling wind.
The brothers of the Night's Watch startle at the sudden onslaught, scrambling for their weapons as Y/n's group descends upon them like a winter storm unleashed.
"Take no prisoners!" Ygritte's voice rings out above the chaos, her bow singing as she looses arrow after arrow into the heart of the fray. the blizzard finally descends in full force, swallowing the scene in a swirling white blanket of snow and ice.
After a few minutes of the bloody onslaught Jon realizes his efforts were pointless as he is now surrounded.
Confused and heaving out heavy breaths he looks around to grasp his situation. He pauses mid turn at the sight of Y/n dismounting her horse gracefully, still holding her bow.
“Hold.” she raises her hand, signaling for them to hold their fire. The clash of swords and the cries of men fade into the background as Jon's gaze meets hers, his eyes locked on her figure clad in a fur cloak and a dress as white as the snow.
She approaches Jon with purpose, her footsteps leaving shallow imprints in the fresh snow. The wind tugs at her cloak, sending strands of hair swirling around her face like tendrils of shadow.
“Who are you?” he mumbles out, trying to find the words. He raises his hands slowly, his eyes flicking between Y/n and the members of her group surrounding him.
Y/n's lips curl into a confident smile as she keeps her arrow trained on Jon. "I am Y/n, Princess of the Free Folk," she declares, her voice ringing out clear despite the howling wind.
Jon's eyes widen in surprise at her proclamation, a flicker of realization dawning in his expression. He lowers his hands slowly, his gaze never leaving Y/n's face. "Princess of the Free Folk," he repeats, as if testing the words on his tongue.
Y/n nods, her grip tightening on her bow. "Indeed. And now, I command you to throw down your weapon and stand," she orders, her voice leaving no room for argument.
Jon hesitates for a moment, his gaze darting between Y/n and the looming figures of her group. But then, with a resigned sigh, he unclasps his sword belt and lets it fall to the ground with a heavy thud.
He stands tall, meeting Y/n's gaze, she studies Jon Snow intently as he stands before her, his demeanor composed despite the circumstances. "And who are you, truly?" Y/n asks, her voice softened but still firm.
Jon's gaze remains fixed on her, his expression unreadable behind the mask of snowflakes that cling to his beard. "I am Jon Snow, a brother of the Night's Watch," he replies. A laugh escapes her at the name. “Mhmm snow. You’re a Stark. Ned Starks bastard son.”
Hearing her call his name and addressing him as a Stark made his heart skip a beat. Yet he remained cautious, seeing how easily the wildings obeyed her. “I am…How did you know?” he asked, as he slowly took a step back.
“It’s not me who knows, its my brother. what business does the Night's Watch have this far beyond the Wall? Us wildings? White walkers?” He nods to both causing her to sigh.
Y/n turns to her companions, her gaze sweeping over them with authority. "Tie him up. We're bringing him home," she commands, her voice firm and resolute.
He is stunned by her order, his body freezes still where he stands. The wildlings nod in silent acknowledgment, swiftly moving to obey Y/n's orders.
They bind Jon Snow's hands tightly with rope, ensuring he poses no immediate threat as they prepare to escort him back to their camp.
Y/n's eyes then find Ygritte, who stands nearby, her bow at the ready. "Ygritte, you'll watch him from now on," Y/n instructs, her voice carrying a note of trust.
"Make sure he doesn't try anything foolish." They hand the rope to Ygritte, who accepts it with a nod of gratitude.
With a swift motion, she mounts her horse, her cloak billowing behind her like a banner of authority. As she settles into the saddle, her eyes meet Jon's, and there's a flicker of something unspoken between them, a tension that crackles in the frigid air like lightning.
"Let's go," she commands, her voice cutting through the howling wind. "We have to make it back before dawn."
Jon's heart races as he watches her, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of her. A sudden chill runs through his back, he struggles against his restraints, approaching your horse slowly. “You really won’t say anything, huh? Just going to tie me up and drag me with you.”
Y/n meets his gaze, a spark of mischief dancing in her eyes. “That’s how I like my men, Snow.” She stated with a devious grin. A cold look appears on his face immediately realizing what she meant by those words. Yet all he can do is be silent and follow behind you, keeping up as his body is pushed every which way by the pelting snow.
…
They finally reach the Wildling camp, Y/n dismounts her horse with a graceful ease and gives her horse a gentle pat on the neck, murmuring words of gratitude as she glances toward the towering big tent that serves as the heart of their encampment.
The women of the camp emerged from their makeshift shelters, their laughter and chatter filling the air as they danced with their children under the fading light of the day.
Giants lumbered about, their massive forms silhouetted against the twilight sky as they worked alongside the Free Folk, tending to the needs of the camp with quiet efficiency.
With a nod to Ygritte, who stands by Jon Snow's side with a watchful gaze, Y/n orders, "Bring the crow with you." she takes hold of Jon's arm, guiding him towards the tent alongside her.
Pushing open the flap of the tent, Y/n steps inside, the warmth of the fire within enveloping her like a comforting embrace.
Ygritte and Jon enter behind her, Y/n's gaze sweeps over the assembled group, taking in the familiar faces of her companions, as well as the curious glances directed towards their captive.
“Oh dear brother. I have a gift.” Mance, ever the troubadour, sat in a corner, his fingers strumming a haunting melody on his lute, the notes drifting through the air like whispers on the wind, weaving a tale of a Dornish woman's forbidden love.
He departs from his pregnant wife’s side. "What's this?" he asked, his gaze sweeping over Ygritte, Rattleshirt, and the newcomer with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. "A crow?"
“Ygritte found the crow, Jon Snow, the bastard of Winterfell!” she introduced. “Release him.” With a collective nod, Ygritte moves to obey, her hands deftly untying the ropes that bind Jon's wrists before pushing him forward.
Mance's piercing blue eyes fix on Jon, assessing him with a shrewd intensity. "A crow," he remarks, his voice low and measured. "What brings you so far beyond your Wall?"
Jon meets Mance's gaze with a steady stare, his jaw set with determination. "I seek answers," he replies, his voice steady despite the weight of his words. "Answers about the darkness that threatens to engulf us all."
Mance nods thoughtfully, his expression unreadable. "And what answers do you hope to find here, among the Free Folk?"
Jon's gaze flickers with resolve as he speaks. "I seek allies," he declares, his voice ringing out clear and strong. "Allies in the fight against the true enemy, the Night King and his army of the dead."
A murmur ripples through the gathered Wildlings at Jon's words, their faces reflecting a mixture of skepticism and curiosity. Mance, however, remains impassive, his gaze fixed on Jon with a calculating intensity.
"Allies," he repeats, his voice echoing in the tense silence of the tent. "The Night's Watch and the Free Folk, united against a common foe. A bold proposition, Jon Snow. But one that may yet prove to be our salvation."
…
The conversation with Mance concludes and the orders are given, Y/n watches as Ygritte leads Jon Snow and his direwolf away from the tent.
With a heavy sigh, Y/n turns away, her steps leading her back to her own tent. She sheds her fur cloak with a weary grace, allowing it to fall to the ground as she settles onto the floor, her legs crossed beneath her.
Closing her eyes, Y/n takes a deep breath, centering herself before allowing her mind to drift into the depths of warging. As her consciousness expands, she feels the pull of the nearby animals, their instincts calling out to her in the darkness.
With a gentle push, Y/n's spirit leaves her body, merging with that of a nearby fox. She feels the rush of freedom as she darts through the snow-covered landscape, her senses heightened by the wildness of her new form.
She approaches the bodies of the fallen Black Brothers, a sudden movement jolts her back to reality. The fox springs back in fear, its eyes locking with those of a figure rising from the snow.
Y/n's heart pounds in her chest as she stares into the ice-blue eyes of the reanimated corpse. The corpse lunges forward as it reaches out with cold dead hands.
With a burst of speed, the fox races southward, its breath coming in ragged gasps as it flees from the looming threat. Y/n's eyes snap open abruptly, her breath coming out raggedly as she sits up. She dons her fur cloak once more, the fabric billowing around her like a protective barrier against the biting cold.
Rushing from her tent, Y/n heads straight for Mance, her footsteps quick and purposeful in the snow. She finds him surrounded by his advisors, deep in conversation about their next move. "Mance, we need to leave now," Y/n declares, her voice urgent as she approaches him.
Mance turns to her, his brow furrowed in confusion. "We've just arrived at our camp. Surely we can afford to rest for a while."
But Y/n shakes her head adamantly, her eyes flashing with determination. "No, Mance. We can't afford to stay here any longer, thinking about Dalla" she insists, her voice unwavering.
Mance studies her for a moment, weighing her words carefully. But then, with a resigned sigh, he nods in reluctant agreement. "Very well, Y/n," he concedes, "We'll leave in a few days."
…
Y/n stood before the gathered clans, her hair blowing in the biting gusts as she surveyed the uneasy faces staring back at her.
"As you know, the white walkers arise once more from the dead," she called out, her voice carrying over the murmurs that rippled through the crowd. "As your Princess, I swear to lead you safely to the Wall."
She continued, her tone firm, "My brother has brought together the Free Folk like no one has before." Gesturing to Mance, who stood with his wife behind her, she emphasized, "But winter is coming—the harshest in memory. The dead will rise to join the White Walkers' army. They will not wait for spring!"
The truth of her words sank in among the Free Folk, glances exchanged as the severity of the situation settled upon them. Mance stepped forward, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
"The princess speaks true," he declared, his voice carrying authority. "The Wall is our only refuge against the storm. We must begin the march at once... before it is too late."
Agreement murmured through the clans, and Y/n nodded gratefully to Mance. Drawing her furs tighter against the cold, she caught sight of Jon Snow, his gaze meeting hers for a fleeting moment before flickering away.
…
In the wake of her stirring speech, preparations for the journey to the Wall began in earnest. The clans bustled with activity, packing supplies, sharpening weapons, and tending to their families in anticipation of the arduous trek ahead.
The moon hung low in the sky, casting its silvery light over the rugged landscape, and the distant howls of wolves echoed through the valleys.
It was there, in the quiet stillness of the night, that Y/n encountered her brother's pregnant wife once more. She stood alone, her silhouette outlined against the moonlit horizon, a solitary figure in the darkness.
"Are you all right?" Y/n asked softly as she turned to face her, her expression unreadable in the dim light. Y/n walked closer to where she was standing, her boots crunching on the frozen ground. "I'm fine," she replied curtly.
Y/n studied her for a moment, sensing the weight of her burden in the lines of her face and the tension in her shoulders. There was a distance between them, a chasm that seemed insurmountable.
"I wanted to thank you," Y/n said earnestly, breaking the silence that hung heavy between them. "For standing with me back there. Your support means more to me than you know."
Her gaze softened, a flicker of warmth in the depths of her eyes. "You don't have to thank me," she replied, her voice gentle. "We're in this together, whether we like it or not." There was a moment of quiet understanding between them as they stood together beneath the starlit sky.
…
give me some feedback, i'd like to know if this sucks lol
#fluff#angst#masterlist#new writers on tumblr#new fic#wildlings#free folk#asoiaf#jon snow x reader#jon snow x you#jon snow#robb stark x reader#robb stark fanfic#robb stark#theon greyjoy#sansa stark#arya stark#ned stark#catelyn stark#catelyn tully#ned x catelyn#jon snow x oc#house stark#game of thrones x reader#game of thrones fanfiction#game of thrones#game of thrones x y/n#game of thrones x you
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what a small comfort it would have been for sansa, just to be able to have theon with her at winterfell, after everything...
#i would like to imagine him surviving the long night and choosing to remain at her side when the wars are over and everyone else is gone#the simple comfort of having someone next to you that understands your pain and your worry and your peace without having to explain it#im so bitter they never got to know peace and softness together past a single night sharing soup#theonsa#got#look out shes at it again yall#theon x sansa#game of thrones#theon greyjoy#sansa stark
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