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dear-bunnyboo · 4 months

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐈𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄 || 𝐉𝐎𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖

important note: my face claim will be madison beer but you can imagine whoever you desire. also the songs mentioned are not all technically all madison’s i will be incorporating other songs from other artists.

all the pictures seen below are not mine, however they were edited by yours truly. credits to the owners.

happy new year, my loves! 🎉🎊🍾 not the season we wanted, however, I know for a fact that the next one will be our comeback season!!! Hope this makes you guys happy even if for a little while.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Joe Burrow x Singer!Reader / Brief Ex!Jack Hughes x Singer!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You decided to go live… your fans are nosy, Joe is noisy.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, social media, media, hate comments, ig live comments, fluff, mentions of cheating ex, fluff, more fluffiness, tooth rotting moments, Joe Burrow being a simp, established relationship

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐜. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐍𝐇𝐋 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐲/𝐧_𝐲/𝐥/𝐧 started a live video.

You lounged on a plush couch in the heart of your stylishly decorated living room. Soft, ambient lights adorned the space, casting a warm glow on tasteful decor that bore witness to your numerous achievements. The room emanated a sense of comfort and sophistication, a reflection of your own laid-back yet refined taste.

Clutching your phone, you felt the familiar anticipation as she initiated an Instagram live session. Excitement filled the air as you looked into the camera, ready to connect with your fans after a hiatus from such spontaneous interactions. The room, a blend of neutral tones and vibrant accents, served as the perfect backdrop for you to share a slice of your life.

The subtle hum of background music added to the ambiance, enhancing the sense of ease that permeated the room.

You leaned back against the plush cushions, your eyes fixed on the phone's camera. "Hello, I’m gonna wait for people to come before starting.”

𝐟𝐚𝐧1: HELLOOOO QUEEENB!!!&3)373

𝐟𝐚𝐧2: MISS THING!? ARE MY EYES DECEIVING ME OR ARE U LIVE RN!??

𝐟𝐚𝐧3: y/n I love you 🩷🩷🩷

𝐟𝐚𝐧4: hello from Italy 🇮🇹

𝐟𝐚𝐧5: Omg! It’s been a while since you’ve been live 🥹🩵

“It's been a while, hasn't it? I don’t usually do lives but a lot of you guys have been asking me to, so… here I am.” You giggled.

The room feels cozy, with the soft glow of lights creating a warm ambiance. You can't help but smile as the viewer count rises steadily.

𝐟𝐚𝐧6: girl you look good 😫

𝐟𝐚𝐧7: 🧡🧡🧡

𝐟𝐚𝐧8: y/n you have no business looking so good like that at home.

𝐟𝐚𝐧9: are you making new music?

𝐟𝐚𝐧10: come to japan!!

Questions flood in, ranging from music updates to personal anecdotes. "Ah, someone asked about new music. You know I'm always working on something. I've got a few surprises up my sleeve, so stay tuned for that."

𝐟𝐚𝐧11: what’s your favorite genre?

𝐟𝐚𝐧12: where is y/bf/n?

𝐟𝐚𝐧13: talk about your breakup with Jack.

𝐟𝐚𝐧14: do you still watch Hockey?

𝐟𝐚𝐧15: GIRL WE NEED YOUR SKINCARE ROUTINE ASAP!!

𝐟𝐚𝐧16: what’s your songwriting process?

The chat scrolls rapidly, and you pick a question about your music preferences. "Favorite genre at the moment? Honestly, it changes all the time, but lately, I've been vibing with some indie and acoustic stuff.”

As more questions pour in, ranging from songwriting inspiration to behind-the-scenes moments, you share glimpses of your creative process. "Songwriting is such a personal journey. It could be a fleeting emotion, a random moment, or even something a fan shares. Inspiration can come from anywhere, really."

“How fast can you write lyrics?” You read in the comments.

“Uhm, it depends. Sometimes I get a wave of ideas just flowing. But there are also times where I get stuck and it takes forever for me to continue… it really does depend. But the fastest song I’ve written is far, has to be Selfish and Reckless. I write those two back-to-back in about three, four hours.”

𝐟𝐚𝐧17: I bet it’s easier to write when you have A LOT of things to say.

𝐟𝐚𝐧18: can you say hello to my cousin, Annie?

𝐟𝐚𝐧19: pineapples on pizza? yes or no?

As the questions continued pouring in, you found yourself engrossed in the virtual conversation. Little did you know, the front door to your home had swung open, announcing the arrival of your boyfriend, Joe, fresh from hanging out with his friends.

The comments section, ever vigilant, caught the subtle sounds of the door and began buzzing with curiosity.

𝐟𝐚𝐧20: Did anyone else hear that? Is someone there?

𝐟𝐚𝐧21: is it y/bf/n? I hope it’s her, I love when they do lives together.

𝐟𝐚𝐧22: girl are you being robbed?

𝐟𝐚𝐧23: I don’t think she heard.

𝐟𝐚𝐧24: SOMEONE JUST ENTERED YOUR HOUSE MISS THING?!!!

Your fans, always quick to pick up on details, speculated about the unexpected noise.

Your eyes met Joe's from his place by the door, and a smile crept across your face. Ignoring the barrage of questions flooding the comments about the mysterious door sound.

As he moved closer to you, you moved the camera away from the two of you as he leaned down and placed a kiss on your lips, “Hey, baby.” He mutters against your lips.

“Hello.” You whispered, pecking him one more time before moving away, facing the camera back to you as Joe walked towards the sofa, placing his things on it.

𝐟𝐚𝐧25: GOOD GOD IS IT JOE? AND DID I HEAR KISSING NOISES?!

𝐟𝐚𝐧26: she was just kissing someone right now 🥲

𝐟𝐚𝐧27: HI JOEEEE💕💕

𝐟𝐚𝐧28: imagine if she was cheating on Joe like she did with Jack and got caught on live 😂

𝐟𝐚𝐧29: OH ITS DEF JOE, DO U SEE HER SMILE 🥹

𝐟𝐚𝐧30: Who was that?

"Who was that?" you read from the comments, a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. With a playful grin, you responded, "Santa." Giggles escaped your lips as you teased your online audience, fully enjoying the mysterious atmosphere you had unintentionally created.

Off-camera, Joe's puzzled expression deepened as he tried to make sense of your comment. Unaware of the ongoing live session, he exchanged a confused look with you, silently asking for an explanation.

𝐟𝐚𝐧31: oh they’re messing with us.

𝐟𝐚𝐧32: Y/N! STOP GATEKEEPING JOSEPH!!

𝐟𝐚𝐧33: Tell Joe I said hi.

𝐟𝐚𝐧34: Can you tease your new music?

𝐟𝐚𝐧35: BITCH WHAT DO YOU MEAN SANTA!?

𝐟𝐚𝐧36: “I saw mommy kissing, Santa Claus.” 😉

"Can you tease us about your new music?" you read from the comments, a gleam of excitement in your eyes. With a teasing smile, you responded, "Well, I'm planning on releasing an album soon." A collective wave of comments flood in your live as your fans absorbed the thrilling revelation.

The anticipation soared as you continued, "I've poured my heart and soul into this one. Some unexpected collaborations, and a sound that's a departure from what you've heard before. It's a journey, and I can't wait to take it with all of you.”

“That’s a bit of a generic answer.” You laughed as you read that comment.

“Okay, okay, I’m not allowed to talk about it too much as of now but since I love you guys too much… I can say that the vibes for this album would be the complete opposite of my previous one, Teardrops.”

𝐟𝐚𝐧37: EXCUSE ME!? DID SHE JUST CONFIRM A NEW ALBUM COMING SOOONNN!!?

𝐟𝐚𝐧38: HOLY SHIT! YES PLEASE 😍

𝐟𝐚𝐧39: opposite of Teardrops, she’s gonna be in her Lover era. Mark my fucking words.

𝐟𝐚𝐧40: release it now. I dare you to.

The comment section erupted with excitement, fans expressing their anticipation and excitement for the upcoming album. Amidst the flurry of reactions, the domestic sounds from Joe in the kitchen continued, adding a delightful and unintentional layer to the unfolding live session.

Amid the ongoing banter with your fans, the sound of Joe moving around in the kitchen reached the microphone, making a subtle entrance into the live. A clink of glasses and the humming of the refrigerator added a domestic soundtrack to the virtual conversation.

𝐟𝐚𝐧41: what in the hell is going on in your house?

𝐟𝐚𝐧42: IS JOE COOKING?!

𝐟𝐚𝐧43: I don’t think Joe knows how to cook, it’s sounds like he’s building something 💀

𝐟𝐚𝐧44: gurl—

𝐟𝐚𝐧45: I LOVE UUUUUU 😍😍

The comments section buzzed with speculation as your followers eagerly awaited an explanation.

“What’s that noise?”

Maintaining your composure, you chuckled, "Oh, just Santa making himself at home in the kitchen. You know how it is." The playful tone in your voice only fueled the curiosity of your audience, prompting more questions about the mysterious happenings in your house, knowing fully well it’s your boyfriend, Joe.

Joe silently took a seat behind the camera, handing you a glass of wine. A warmth spread across your face as you accepted it, maintaining your live composure. "I couldn’t find the fucking corkscrew to open the new bottle of wine your mom got us," he grunted, unaware of the ongoing live session.

Smiling, you tried to signal him discreetly with your eyes, conveying the message that you were live and to tread lightly on the conversation. "Yeah? Is that why you sounded like you were tearing up the place?" you playfully responded, taking a sip of the wine.

𝐟𝐚𝐧46: IT IS JOE!!!

𝐟𝐚𝐧47: that’s Joe’s voice

𝐟𝐚𝐧48: I wanna see him 🥺

𝐟𝐚𝐧49: HAHAHHA GOD HE’S SO CUTE.

𝐟𝐚𝐧50: he really wanted that corkscrew.

Little did you both know, your fans were going wild as they eavesdropped on this charming and candid exchange. The confirmation that it was indeed Joe from his distinctive voice sent the comments section into a frenzy of excitement.

"Who are you talking to, baby?" Joe asked, still clueless about the live session happening. "I'm live, bubs" you casually replied, flashing him a reassuring smile.

Joe's eyes widened in shock, realizing that your conversation had been broadcasted to an audience. Stunned and not entirely sure what to say, he glanced at the camera, suddenly aware that people were listening in on your cozy, domestic moment.

The fans, now privy to this unexpected revelation, flooded the comments with an enthusiastic mix of emojis and exclamations.

𝐟𝐚𝐧51: DID YALL HEAR HIS VOICE WHEN HE CALLED HER BABY!?)! IM UNWELL.

𝐟𝐚𝐧52: oh to be called by the Joseph Lee Burrow ‘Baby’

𝐟𝐚𝐧53: 🥰🥰🥰

𝐟𝐚𝐧54: BABY AND BUBS. IM SERIOUSLY NOT OKAY.

"Do you wanna say hi?" you asked Joe softly, well aware of his preference for privacy and aversion to attention. Despite his reservations, he entered the frame for your sake, a warm smile on his face.

"Hi," he greeted the camera before gently moving away, respecting his comfort zone.

The comments section erupted with joy, fans expressing their excitement and admiration for Joe's brief appearance.

𝐟𝐚𝐧55: HIIII!!!

𝐟𝐚𝐧56: OH HOT DAMN THAT MAN FINE 🥵

𝐟𝐚𝐧57: oh lawd.

𝐟𝐚𝐧58: good. god.

𝐟𝐚𝐧59: Y/N IS ONE LUCKKY GIRL WHAT THE HELL.

𝐟𝐚𝐧60: hello, Joe 😫

𝐟𝐚𝐧61: he’s so shy, it’s adorable.

As Joe retreated from the camera, you couldn't help but smile at the delightful chaos that ensued. The comments continued to overflow with love and appreciation, turning the live session into an unforgettable and cherished memory for everyone involved.

“It’s my birthday.” You read a comment. “Happy Birthday, love.”

Yawning and rubbing the tiredness from your eyes, you continued reading more comments from your fans. "You're tired," Joe observed, his voice lower but still audible to the viewers.

You shook your head, looking at him with puppy dog eyes, silently asking for permission to stay up a little longer.

Joe gave you a stern look, his voice barely above a whisper, "It's late, pretty girl." His hands appeared in the video, gently removing a strand of hair from your face.

"That's okay," you replied, trying to stifle another yawn. The fans, now witnessing this endearing interaction, flooded the comments with a mix of supportive and playful messages.

𝐟𝐚𝐧62: when will it be my turn 😩

𝐟𝐚𝐧63: COUPLE FUCKING GOALS.

𝐟𝐚𝐧64: it’s confirmed. Burrow is a SIMP.

𝐟𝐚𝐧65: is this too much to ask?

𝐟𝐚𝐧66: “pretty girl.” Goodbye.

"Don't stay up too late, okay?" Joe finally agreed, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek before moving upstairs to get ready for bed.

"Mm hmm," you nodded, acknowledging his concern for your well-being.

The comments section filled with heart emojis and affectionate messages.

𝐟𝐚𝐧67: girl is better than me, cause if Joe Burrow called me a pretty girl and directed me to bed I would in a heart beat.

𝐟𝐚𝐧68: y/n it’s late go to sleep.

𝐟𝐚𝐧69: 💕💕💕💕💕

𝐟𝐚𝐧70: JOE IS THE ABSOLUTE SWEETEST.

As Joe disappeared from the frame, the live session continued, but there was a subtle shift in the atmosphere. The quiet acknowledgment of the bedtime routine added a touch of reality to the virtual interaction, creating a relatable moment that resonated with your audience.

“Now, where were we?” You smiled at the camera.

The warmth of the comments reflected the shared connection between you, Joe, and your fans, making the live session not just about entertainment but about genuine connection and shared experiences.

dividers: @cafekitsune

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @jackkyhughes @h0e4fictionalme-n @queenmendes @rd14 @scoobydoopoo @estapa94 @karmasabitchybitch @literaturelustrr @toterry @fangirl-madz @atticusismybae @stargaryenx @haydee5010 @porter113 @ryiamarie @starrgir1 @flwries @slafgoalskybaby @unsaidjaelinrose @in-my-body-bag @cixrosie @siutforjjmaybank @youn-jo @nobystanderz @bb-swift @buckystwilight @kidrauhlakaperf @kkrenae @catswag22 @hustler-sinner @asparklysoul @kaydesssssssss @97bngchn @dunningz @whiteleoqueen @austinswhitewolf @wickedfun9 @minkyungseokie @boldlypessimistic @utopiakys

ೃ⁀➷ comment or message me to be added to the tag list :) ˚

₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SUBMIT A REQUESTS AND ASK ME ANYTHING!

: ̗̀➛ requests are always open ♡

-𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲ఌ

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intoxicated-chan · 8 months

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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.”

#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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devilinthebox · 2 months

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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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soup-in-my-fly · 16 days

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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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h3llrac3r · 10 months

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˗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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axelsagewrites · 3 months

Note

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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feyhunter78 · 2 days

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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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babylonfelldown · 2 years

Text

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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dear-bunnyboo · 4 months

Text

𝐒𝐎 𝐈𝐓 𝐆𝐎𝐄𝐒... || 𝐉𝐎𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖 18+

a request from @joeburrowshottestwife 🤍 I got a little carried away and wrote a mini smut if you may…

I recommend listening to the song while reading and I hope you guys love it!!

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Joe Burrow x Reader

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: 𝐒𝐨 𝐈𝐭 𝐆𝐨𝐞𝐬... - 𝐓𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐭

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Who would’ve thought that seeing the prettiest blue eyes would lead to a lifetime of love and passion and so it goes…

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ mature content, cursing, smut, sex, sexual tension, drinking, flirting, hickeys, oral, gossip, quickie, lowkey public sex, against the wall, fluff, infatuated!joe, partying, strangers to lovers?, slight jealously, some cute moments

If you are below the age of 18 and or you are not comfortable with the warnings above, please don’t read this!

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐜. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

See you in the dark

All eyes on you, my magician

All eyes on us

You make everyone disappear, and

Cut me into pieces

In the dimly lit bar, you and your girlfriends revel in the atmosphere of a girls' night out, surrounded by laughter and chatter. The bar is an intimate yet lively space, bathed in a dim glow that emanates from strategically placed low-hanging lights.

The walls, adorned with eclectic artwork and vintage posters, create a unique ambiance. The air is filled with a blend of laughter, clinking glasses, and the deep sound of the music playing from the speakers.

The dance floor, though not too expansive, beckons those eager to showcase their moves. Rustic wooden tables and plush booths provide comfortable seating for groups of friends, creating pockets of shared moments.

As you sip your drinks, the room suddenly hushes when Joe Burrow, the famous NFL quarterback for the Cincinnati Bengals, appears in a dark corner with his friends.

It's in one of these shadowy corners that Joe Burrow and his friends have claimed their spot, inadvertently becoming the center of attention as his fame draws glances from all around the room.

As you took another sip of your drink, your attention is stolen once more by the magnetic presence of Joe Burrow tucked away in the dim corner.

His fame precedes him, and the way he effortlessly commands the attention of the entire bar pulls you into a trance— it was like magic, you were hypnotized.

Your friends continue their chatter, but your focus is drawn to Joe.

In the low light, his silhouette exudes an intriguing allure, and you find yourself captivated by the subtle confidence in his posture.

Your heart quickens.

Your gaze locks onto Joe, and in that moment, the crowded bar seems to vanish. It's just you and him, a magnetic connection that cuts through the surrounding noise.

His back against the wall, Joe holds a drink in hand, mirroring your intrigue.

The bustling atmosphere fades into the background, leaving only you and him in this shared moment of unspoken connection.

His eyes, carrying a certain intensity, seem to cut through the crowd, reaching you even from a distance. Each glance feels like a subtle incision, dissecting every part of you.

There's a flutter of excitement and nerves as you contemplate making your way toward the bar.

The air is charged with anticipation, and as you decide to approach, you can't shake the feeling that this might be a moment where the ordinary collides with the extraordinary.

"I'll be right back," you announce to your friends, the excitement building within you as you decide to approach the bar. With each step, you can feel Joe's eyes following you, a magnetic pull that seems to intensify as you make your way through the crowd.

The soft glow of the dim lights casts a warm hue on your gold slip-on dress, catching Joe's attention.

You could practically feel his gaze, he was cutting you into pieces as if he's unraveling your every layer with his gaze.

The atmosphere is charged with anticipation as you reach the bar, the heartbeat of the music syncing with your own.

Before you can even order a drink, a deep voice, unmistakably Joe's, interrupts. "Let me get that for you," he offers, his baby blue eyes meeting yours. He gracefully places his hands on either side of the bar table, enclosing you within his captivating presence.

In that moment, the world seems to fade away, leaving just you and Joe, locked in a magnetic connection.

The bar, once bustling with activity, transforms into an intimate stage for this unexpected encounter, marked by his confident gaze and the subtle thrill of a newfound connection.

Feeling like you're being dissected by his eyes, you can't help but be captivated.

Joe leans in slightly, a playful smirk dancing on his lips as he says, "Allow me to be the magician tonight. What's your poison?"

You meet his gaze with a teasing smile. "Well, if you're the magician, surprise me with your best trick. Maybe something with a twist of mystery."

He chuckles, a low and melodic sound. "Mystery, huh? How about a classic, then? How does a whiskey sour sound? It's got just the right amount of intrigue."

You nod approvingly. "Sounds like you know your way around the bar. Whiskey sour it is."

As he signals the bartender, Joe turns his attention back to you. "So, what brings you to this corner of the bar tonight?"

You playfully twirl a strand of hair. "Just out with my friends, enjoying the night. But then I spotted the you in the dark corner, and curiosity got the better of me."

He raises an eyebrow, the charm in his eyes unmistakable. "You spotted me, huh? Well, it seems curiosity works both ways. What's your name?"

You extend a hand. "Y/N. And you're Joe, the attraction of the night, I presume."

He takes your hand, his grip firm yet gentle. "Guilty as charged, Y/N. So, are you a fan, or was it just my irresistible charm that lured you in?"

You laugh, the banter flowing effortlessly. "Maybe a bit of both. Your eyes have a way of making the ordinary feel tempting."

Joe smirks, leaning a bit closer. "Well, I must say, your gold dress is doing its fair share of enchanting tonight."

The conversation continues, a dance of words filled with flirty exchanges and charming wit, creating a magnetic connection that goes beyond the confines of the bustling bar.

As you and Joe take to the dance floor, a subtle shift in the atmosphere becomes palpable. The pulsating beat of the music seems to synchronize with your movements, drawing the attention of the surrounding crowd.

All eyes gradually gravitate toward the two of you, creating an invisible spotlight on this spontaneous dance. The initial curiosity transforms into a collective recognition– Joe Burrow, the NFL quarterback, sharing a moment of connection with a stranger on the dance floor.

The dimly lit bar becomes a stage, and you and Joe the unwitting performers. Whispers and glances follow your every move, and the music seems to amplify, encapsulating the shared energy of the room. The air is charged with a mix of admiration, surprise, and perhaps a touch of envy as the ordinary night transforms into an extraordinary spectacle.

In that moment, the dance floor becomes a canvas, and your connection with Joe, the brushstroke that paints a captivating picture. All eyes are on the two of you, caught in the rhythm of the music and the chemistry that seems to transcend the boundaries of the crowded bar.

Gold cage, hostage to my feelings

Back against the wall

Trippin', trip-trippin' when you're gone

'Cause we breakdown a little

But when you get me alone, it's so simple

'Cause baby, I know what you know

We can feel it

The night unfolds with a seamless transition, and before you know it, you find yourself in a secluded corner behind the bar with Joe. The distant hum of the crowd and the rhythmic beats of the music create a cocoon of intimacy around the two of you.

Your back rests against the wall with you arms wrapped around the tall man in front of you, and Joe, with a casual yet confident demeanor, has his hands all over you.

“Fuck.” Joe breathes out against your lips.

Your lips molded against his, clashing and sloppy as Joe caressed your body all over before pushing you harder against the wall.

"Fuck, you're so fucking beautiful.” Joe says as he kisses down your neck and chest.

"Touch me" you practically purred, but this time it's a plea. "You want me to touch you?" Joe asks as he kisses down your neck and chest. You nod and gasp as his hand reaches up to cup one of your breasts through the fabric of your dress.

"Mmmm, you're so fucking sexy" Joe says as he starts to squeeze your breast. You moan and arch your back, pushing your chest into his hand. Joe moves his hand down to the hem of your dress and slowly slides it up over your hips.

You feel his hands on your thighs, massaging them as he pushes the dress up further. You feel his breath on your skin as he kisses down your stomach and then back up to your breasts. He takes one nipple into his mouth and sucks it hard, causing you to moan loudly.

He switches to the other nipple and gives it the same treatment. "Oh fuck, that feels so good," you moan as he continues to suck on your nipples. Joe moves his hand down to your pussy and starts rubbing it through your panties.

"Mmm, you're so wet for me, baby," he says as he slips his finger inside you. You moan even louder as he starts to finger you. "Fuck, I want to taste you," Joe says as he pulls your panties off. He licks his fingers clean and then starts to lick your pussy.

You moan and writhe against his tongue as he eats you out. "Oh god, yes, yes, yes," you moan as he continues to eat you out. “Please, more, Joe.” You gripped his hair, you could practically feel him smirking against you.

"Mmm, yeah? You want more, baby?" he asks as he slips his finger back inside you.

"Fuck, yes," you moan as he starts to finger fuck you. He adds another finger and continues to fuck your pussy with his fingers.

"Oh god, please don't stop," you beg him as he continues to eat your pussy out and finger fucks it at the same time.

"I'm not going to stop until you cum for me," he says as he starts to finger fuck you faster. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to cumming. "Oh god, I'm gonna cum!" you scream as you cum all over his face and fingers.

He keeps fingering you until you've finished cumming and then he stands up. "Can I fuck you, please?," he whispered against your ear as he placed more kisses against your neck.

“Please.” You breathed out impatiently.

Joe unbuckled his pants before lowering it along with his underwear showcasing his big hard on. You watch as he strokes his cock and then lifted your leg to wrap against him. He lines up his cock with your pussy and then thrusts into you.

"Oh fuck, you're so tight," he groans as he starts to fuck you. You wrap your legs around him and start to meet his thrusts. "Fuck, you feel so good," he says as he continues to fuck you. He picks you up and pounded you against the wall.

"Just like that. You’re so good for me, baby," he says as he pounds you harder. You can feel his cock throbbing inside of you as you bit the love of his ear, a whimpering mess, “Joe, harder.”

Joe did just that.

“Take it. Take it.” He slammed into you harder and harder, your nails digging into his back, you both moaned as you threw your head back in ecstasy.

"Fuck, Joe," you say as he continues to fuck you. "You're so fucking good." Joe started to fuck you harder and harder, his cock throbbing inside of you. He could feel himself getting close and he knew that he was going to cum soon.

"I'm going to cum," he says. "Do you want me to pull out?"

"No, just keep fucking me. I’m on birth control," you shook your head. "I want your cum inside of me." Joe smiles and continues to fuck you harder and harder. He can feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge, his cock throbbing inside of you.

"I'm going to cum," he says again. "I'm going to fill you up with my cum." You moan and push him closer against you, urging him on.

He can feel your pussy clenching around his cock, and he knows that you're close too. "Cum for me," he says, thrusting harder and faster into you.

You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, and then you finally let go, crying out as you cum all over his cock. Joe groans and follows suit, filling you up with his hot cum. He holds you tightly against him as he continues to pulse inside of you.

"I can’t believe we just did that," you say, kissing him softly. "You wanna get of here" he says, smiling down at you.

"Yes please."

You both get dressed and head out the door. You can't help but feel a sense of euphoria. You've just had amazing sex with someone who you just met but someone who makes you feel safe and comfortable.

And all the pieces fall

Right into place

Getting caught up in a moment

Lipstick on your face

So it goes

Leaving the enchanting sanctuary behind the bar, you and Joe walk out hand in hand, the cool night air providing a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the shared moments.

As you step into the night, you can't help but notice the subtle aftermath of your little moment and the whispered conversations. Joe's lips are tinted with a faint red hue, a playful smudge of your lipstick from an impromptu moment of closeness. You, too, wear the evidence on your lips, a charming reminder of the shared laughter and connection.

The onlookers can't help but whisper and gossip as you navigate through the lingering crowd. A few conspicuous lip marks on Joe's face and neck become the talk of the night, adding an air of mystery and intrigue to your departure.

Despite the whispers, you and Joe continue walking hand in hand, oblivious to the outside commentary. The city lights cast a gentle glow on the scene as you embark on the journey home, the echoes of the night's magic lingering in the air.

I'm yours to keep

And I'm yours to lose

You know I'm not a bad girl

But I do bad things with you

So it goes

A few months into the relationship, the dynamics between you and Joe have seamlessly woven together.

You, typically labeled as the good girl since childhood, have followed rules diligently, excelled at school, and cultivated a high-paying job. However, with Joe, a transformation has occurred. He's managed to unlock a side of you that, until now, had been carefully tucked away

In his company, you let loose, embracing a freedom that transcends the boundaries of the familiar. The structured life you once led now coexists with moments of spontaneity and laughter. Joe has become the catalyst, bringing forth the ‘bad’ side– a side unapologetically liberated and carefree.

The dichotomy between the good girl exterior and the liberated spirit within becomes a harmonious dance in your relationship. Joe appreciates the layers, the depth beyond the conventional labels, and you find joy in the uncharted territories of letting go.

I make all your gray days clear and

Wear you like a necklace

I'm so chill, but you make me jealous

But I got your heart

Skippin', skip-skippin' when I'm gone

The morning sun bathes the charming streets in a warm glow as you and Joe step into a quaint restaurant for a brunch date. The air is filled with the tantalizing aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the gentle sizzle of brunch delights.

The restaurant exudes a cozy ambiance, adorned with rustic decor and soft, ambient lighting. Sunlight filters through lace curtains, casting a gentle pattern on the checkered tablecloth. The gentle hum of conversation and clinking of cutlery create a soothing backdrop.

Seated at a corner table, you and Joe peruse the menu, the anticipation of delightful flavors adding a spark to the atmosphere. The waiter arrives, and you both share playful glances as you place your orders.

As you wait for the food to arrive, the conversation flows effortlessly. The ambiance encourages intimacy, allowing you to share laughter and stolen glances, creating a shared world within the confines of the cozy restaurant.

The dishes arrive, each plate a work of culinary art. The flavors dance on your palate, and the occasional clinking of your utensils against the plate becomes a rhythm that accompanies your shared moments.

The scene is painted with the colors of love and the promise of the day ahead. The brunch date unfolds like a story, each bite a chapter in the narrative of your connection, as you and Joe savor both the delicious food and the joy of being in each other's company.

Amidst the delightful brunch spread, you and Joe find yourselves immersed in a conversation that effortlessly weaves between shared memories and future dreams.

Joe smiles, his eyes locking onto yours. "Remember that time we tried making pancakes together and ended up with a kitchen covered in flour?"

You chuckle, a warm nostalgia enveloping the moment. "How could I forget? We turned a simple breakfast into a floury battlefield. Good times."

The conversation takes a turn toward upcoming plans. "Speaking of which, any thoughts on that weekend getaway we've been tossing around?" Joe asks, his gaze filled with excitement.

You nod, enthusiasm mirroring his. "Mmm hmm. A change of scenery sounds perfect. Maybe somewhere with a beach or a cozy cabin in the mountains?"

Before Joe can respond, the waitress arrives, interrupting the conversation with a flirtatious demeanor. She directs her attention towards Joe, her smile overly friendly as she takes a moment longer than necessary to place the water glasses on the table.

"Hey there," she says, a hint of flirtation in her voice. "Anything else I can get for you?"

You exchange a knowing glance with Joe, and as the waitress lingers a little too close, you can't help but feel a twinge of annoyance at the unwarranted interruption.

As the waitress hovers a bit too long, a subtle pang of jealousy tightens within. You've always been secure in your relationship with Joe, understanding that his charm might attract attention. You've been chill, confident that his heart belongs to you.

Yet, in this moment, an unexpected wave of possessiveness creeps in. It's not about doubt, but an innate response to the realization that your boyfriend, undeniably attractive, draws attention from others. The jealousy is fleeting but palpable, a twinge of discomfort you hadn't anticipated.

The waitress continues her lingering presence, focusing most of her attention on Joe. "So, Joe, do you come here often? I haven't seen you around before," she says, a subtle flirtation in her voice as she refills his water glass.

Joe, trying to be polite but sensing the awkwardness, replies, "Oh, well, it's our first time here for brunch. Heard great things about the food."

She smiles, leaning in a bit too close. "Well, I'm glad you chose to spend your morning here. You know, we have some special desserts today. Maybe I can tempt you with something sweet?"

You, sitting there, feel the tension rising, your jealousy now mingling with irritation. Despite Joe's efforts to redirect the attention back to you, the waitress continues to engage him, seemingly oblivious to your presence.

Reminding yourself of the love you share, you take a deep breath, letting logic override the momentary surge of jealousy. It's a reminder that even in a secure relationship, occasional pangs of possessiveness can surface, only to be soothed by the assurance that Joe is yours, heart and all.

Joe, maintaining his politeness, manages an awkward chuckle. "We'll have to check out those desserts, but for now, we're pretty set with brunch. Thanks."

As the awkward encounter with the waitress concludes and she finally leaves your table, Joe lets out a relieved sigh. "Sorry about that. She was a bit... persistent."

You smile, appreciating Joe's acknowledgment of the situation. "It's okay. People can be a little forward sometimes."

Joe reaches across the table, gently taking your hand. "You know I only have eyes for you, right, baby?"

Your gaze meets his, reassured by the sincerity in his eyes. "I do, but it's just one of those moments, you know? Sometimes, even when you know, a little reminder helps."

Understanding your sentiments, Joe smiles warmly. "I get it. And speaking of reminders..." He nods toward your neck.

You look down to see the delicate necklace, the chain adorned with a small pendant bearing Joe's name. It's a subtle yet meaningful piece he gave you, a constant reminder of the love you share.

"Remember the name you wear," he says, his voice gentle but filled with conviction.

As you trace the pendant with your fingers, you feel a renewed sense of connection. Joe's name against your skin serves as a steadfast reminder that, despite occasional external distractions, your bond is unshakeable.

The brunch may have had its awkward moments, but the shared glance and the necklace serve as anchors, grounding you both in the warmth of your relationship.

You smiled at the thought.

You did a number on me

But honestly, baby, who's counting?

I did a number on you

But honestly, baby, who's counting?

So it goes

dividers: @cafekitsune

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ladyviserra · 9 months

Note

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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knownoking · 10 months

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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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stompandhollar · 9 months

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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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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 3 months

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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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