#theon greyjoy x you fanfic
Text
Lookalike (I)
Summary: When Jon Snow’s name day arrives, Theon Greyjoy hires you as a gift for him. But will you awake feelings they’ve been trying to hide from themselves?
WC: 2.9k words
Warnings: Canon divergence. Smut. Role play. Virginity Kink. Innocence Kink. Dirty talk. Prostitution.
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Masterlist
You were wearing your prettiest dress when you arrived at Winterfell, riding your horse into the gates just as the sun set down.
It was very nice, looking like a lady sometimes, with your hair up and people looking at you respectfully, and not trying to take a bite out of you.
The guards even let you step inside, and one of them showed you a place where your old girl could rest and eat a little bit, and didn’t ask you too many questions.
You weren’t even finished tying her into place when the young ward who’d brought you here arrived to get you.
Theon Greyjoy.
You were very familiar with him. This wasn’t the first time you saw one another - and probably wouldn’t be the last - but your interaction was new. All of the other times, it was he who came to you, visiting your brothel, but tonight seemed to be special enough that he had requested that you came to see him in Winterfell.
“My lady,” he smirked at you, cocky.
“Lord Greyjoy,” you scoffed, picking your bag from her.
Very funny of him.
“Oh, come on,” he rolled his eyes and gestured to you. “You are wearing away too much for a whore.”
You shook your head, moving to his side, and he slapped your ass, pulling your body close.
“Let me see what’s underneath that under a better light,” he teased you.
You skimmed away from him, slapping his hand out of the way.
“I don’t think Lord Stark will appreciate you groping a whore in his yard,” you remarked. “Much less my presence in his castle.”
He scoffed.
“I told them you are here to assist in the kitchen,” he told you. “And you are going to leave tomorrow because you were intimidated by me. It’s simple.”
Gods, what a mess.
“Oh, yes,” you taunted him. “Intimidated by the big and strong ward of Winterfell. Oh, Lord Greyjoy, don’t seduce me, I’m saving myself for farmboy lover. He promised he will marry me as soon as his father allows it.”
Your words were very quick to sour his mood, and he grabbed your elbow.
“Just get inside,” he grunted. l
You followed Theon through the walls silently. Winterfell was a big castle, and a true fortress. One could walk through it for days and never see all of it.
"What's in the bag?" he threw a look over his shoulder as you walked into his chambers.
When the owner of your brothel told you to come, she said Theon wanted you to look like you were going to stay in the castle, and not spend a single night. So, as to look convincing, you took your trip as a time you could use to buy a few supplies for yourself and the other girls.
"Needles, fabric, some herbs, oils..." you listed. "Nothing you would be interested in.'
He perked up.
"Is it a special kind of oil?" he asked. "Because I want to stretch you out, little whore."
You wanted to scoff but knew not to push it. Theon wasn't the biggest man you had ever had in your life, though he wanted you to act like he was.
"Some of them," you raised your chin. "Some are just to make us smell good."
He pulled you close, and this time you didn't reject him, just stretching your neck to the side so he could sniff you.
"And you always smell so good, don't you?" he ran his nose on your skin.
“I do,” you hummed.
Theon pulled away suddenly, and you watched as he moved to his bedside.
“Well, I need you to smell different tonight,” he loosened his cloak, tossing it on his bed. “You are… a bit of a gift tonight.”
You watched him closely. Of course, you knew this wasn’t a simple visit. You weren’t dumb to think he just wanted to change his usual environment.
“I believe you heard that Lord Stark’s bastard just recently turned 18,” he pointed out. “Jon Snow.”
There was no one in the Seven Kingdoms who hadn’t heard of Jon Snow. Lord Stark’s only fault, the torn in his flash. His little bastard boy.
The event, of course, was overshadowed by Lord Stark’s firstborn’s nameday, just a few days before his dear brother.
“And I’m his nameday gift?” you asked.
He grabbed a little bottle of oil and dangled it in his hands, walking to you.
“And since I’m a good friend, I got him the best whore in Wintertown,” he smirked.
He opened the bottle, and raised it to your nose, so you could give it a little sniff before he dabbed it on the two sides of your neck.
It was a rose perfume - and a very expensive one, considering how strong it smelt.
“So tomorrow, you are going to bathe, and put on this sweet oil,” he closed the bottle again. “You’ll braid your hair all nicely, and wear that pretty dress of yours, and you are going to surprise our Lord Snow.”
Tomorrow.
“And tonight?” you asked.
Theon smirked.
“You don’t think I would have you come all the way here and then not fuck you, right?” he asked.
You simply nodded. It made a lot of sense.
“And you’re going to fuck me in your bed?” you teased him.
“All night long,” he moved his hands to your dress, untying from around your waist. “It might be his nameday, but he isn’t the only one who deserves some fun, right?”
Theon kissed your lips before you could think much more, and you let him guide you along as your dress fell to the floor, and he did the same thing with the shift you were wearing underneath for warmth before pulling you along to his bed.
“You are a very sweet whore,” he touched your chin, raising your chin and moving his thumb over your lips. “But I need you to be an innocent girl for me tonight. That’s how you’ll be for Jon."
You raised your eyebrows in surprise.
“Innocent?” you asked.
Theon pushed your hair out of your shoulders, caressing your skin.
“An innocent little girl,” he spoke softly. “A virgin whore, if I may say.”
You had never been a virgin whore. A virgin? Yes. A whore? You’ve been that for a long time, but you were already fucking when you decided it was best to be paid for it.
“Milord,” you shuddered. “I… maybe you’ve asked for the wrong woman? I’ve… I’ve never done it before, I’ve never been with a man.”
His face showed a bit of confusion for a moment, but Theon relaxed the moment he seemed to understand.
"Oh, no, I did not," Theon purred, brushing back your hair. "You think I haven’t seen you? Teasing me down the halls? As your bosom blossoms…”
You forced your face to stay innocent as he spoke, and he caressed your neck.
"Do you know how much I wanted to have you for me, pretty girl?" he asked you.
You shook your head.
"I wanted to be your first man," he cooed. "Show you how good you can feel, how much pleasure I can give you."
"But milord!" you gasped. "We aren't even married."
Theon chuckled.
"You are going to be a virgin whore for Jon," he reminded you, very stern. "But to me..."
You waited. Of course.
"We don't have to be married, little love," he spoke softly. "It's alright."
He moved his face to your neck, kissing your skin, and you shivered.
"What about my father?" you gasped.
Theon licked and nibbled on your skin.
"Don’t worry about out that," he whispered. "It won't count."
He took his hands to your breasts, caressing your naked tits, pinching your skin.
“We won’t do much,” he promised. “I won’t spill inside you.”
You rubbed your thighs together, a little more excited than you wished he knew.
It was a sweet scenario, this one. One you had thought about in the nights when you had to warm your own cunt and make yourself wet for clients with good gold, but not much consideration.
Theon wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up, carrying you to his bed and tossing you on it, and you were quick to close your legs and pull his cloak to cover your body, earning a lustful look from him.
“It’s alright, my little maiden,” he reached for you, taking your foot and slowly massaging it. “Don’t you trust me?”
You gulped, but nodded, knowing better than to drag this.
“I trust you, milord,” you whispered.
Theon smirked wickedly.
“Such a sweet girl.”
He reached for you, and undressed you once again.
“So pretty,” he purred. “Look at those perky little tits. I can’t believe you hide them away.”
You covered your tits with your half-assedly.
"Mother says I'm still young," you affirmed, feigning embarrassment. "That they'll still grow more."
He hummed along, clicking his tongue.
“I can make them grow for you,” he cooed. “Make your tits big and heavy, if you want to.”
You eyed him suspiciously.
“How?”
Theon smirked and climbed on top of you, kissing your collarbones before moving his lips to your breasts, and kissing your tit before wrapping his lips around your nipple, licking and sucking on it.
You gasped at the sudden touch, but soon it became a moan as he continued to lick, and suck and nibble, pulling on your nipple with his teeth scrapping your skin, and using his free hand to knead and squeeze your free breast before repeating his mouth movements with his fingers.
“You’re such a beauty,” he moved his lips away from your skin, moving his hands to your legs. “Men are going to kill for you, but they won’t know I was the first… the first one you let in…”
Theon kissed your stomach, licking the skin of your navel, and you shuddered.
He wasn’t… was he?
“The first one who ever got to get his eyes on this cunt,” he hummed. “And such a pretty cunt it is.”
You squirmed under his gaze, a little unease. Men didn’t take a lot of time looking at your cunt. Maybe at your tits, and at your naked bodies, but they never gazed at your cunt.
“Look at those fiery red locks,” he exhaled, touching you with his finger, and you sucked in a breath, startled.
Theon looked up at you, but didn’t seem much interested in the reasoning behind it.
“Pretty lady,” he rubbed you up and down, from your entrance to the button above it. “With a pretty cunt.”
You squirmed.
“Milord,” you whimpered. “What are you doing?”
“My Lord,” he corrected you softly.
“My lord,” you repeated.
He hummed along, reaching for you, and his finger reached your entrance, circling it slowly.
“Fingering you, sweet girl,” he said simply.
You panted, eager. His finger was slowly circling you, dipping in and then pulling out, not giving you anything.
“But my maidenhead,” you protested.
Theon didn't seem any detained, once again dipping his finger and pulling back.
"It won't break with just my fingers," he rested her leg on his shoulder.
A blatant lie, clearly.
"Are you sure?" you panted, a little needy.
Would he just fucking put that finger in?
"I am, my little lady," he kissed her thigh. "And you trust me, don't you? Your sweet Theon."
You nodded, looking for the meaning of his words.
"I do," you shuddered.
He slid a single finger into you, and you relaxed in relief, whimpering when he just pushed a second one right after, probably thinking it didn't matter for a whore like you.
"There you go," he purred. "There you go, my sweet lady."
"Theon," you moNed, not stopping to correct yourself.
He squeezed your thigh a little closer, curling his fingers.
"Yes, my sweet lady " he exhaled. "Do you like it when I touch you?"
"Yes," she confirmed, breathless.
He moved up your body, kissing your neck and chest as he fingered you, spreading you open, so sweet and patient he didn't even feel like himself.
"Theon," you whined as he pushed a third finger.
He angled his hand, and you moaned when the heel of his hand finally came to rub your bud.
Seven hells, you just wanted to peak! Couldn't he be merciful?
"Theon," you whined. "Please."
He nuzzled your neck.
"Please what, my sweet lady?"
You bit back your tongue.
"I... I..." you stuttered. "I don't know, just... Please. Please."
"Here?" he pressed harder against your bud. "This place, sweet girl?"
"Yes," you gasped.
He hummed along.
"And what do you need?" he purred.
You squirmed, and he fucked you harder with his fingers.
"I don't know," you arched your hips.
Greyjoy nearly growled.
"My sweet little lady," he cooed. "Your cunt is squeezing my fingers so much. Don't you know what that means?"
"It's strange," you panted. "I feel strange."
"It's alright," he assured you. "It's going to feel food in just a second. Let it happen, sweet girl."
You closed your eyes, moaning and arching your body, letting the pleasure take you.
"Theon," you cried. "Theon!"
"Peak for me, sweet girl," he hummed into your neck. "Let me feel your cunt squeeze my fingers, my lady."
You finally broke, peaking and crying as he continued to fuck you and play with you.
"There you go," he whispered into your neck. "There you go, sweet Sansa."
And finally, it made sense.
This wasn't the first time someone hinted or outrightly said you looked like Lady Sansa. You were older than her, and she was much prettier, but in the dark, all tall girls with red hair and blue eyes could be the daughter of the Lord of Winterfell.
All men wanted to fuck noble ladies. Many wanted to fuck the young innocent daughter of Lord Stark.
His ward wasn't any different.
He kissed you right after, devouring your lips hungrily, holding you close with his free hand.
“Theon,” you panted.
“Let me show you more,” he settled between your legs, and you could feel his hard cock against your entrance. “Please, sweet girl.”
You rubbed your nose on his.
“Sansa,” you whispered to him. “I’m your Sansa, Theon.”
His cock twitched under you.
“Sweet Sansa,” he held you tighter. “Let me make you feel good.”
You moaned, arching your hips, and he his cock into you, the thick head breaching your cunt’s entrance.
“You want me don’t you?” he hissed into your neck, breathing in deep, sniffing your perfumed skin. “Sneaking glances at me at dinner, letting me listen to your sweet songs?”
“I do,” you panted.
He pushed more into you.
“I want you so much,” you panted. “My Theon.”
Theon pulled your hips up tight, lifting your legs and putting them on his shoulders as he pushed his cock deep into you, making you gasp.
“I’ll fucking show you,” he growled. “I’ll be so good for you, sweet Sansa, I promise I will.”
You put your arms around his body, squeezing him close, knowing he wanted his fanstasy and giving it to him.
His hips moved in a sweet pace, fucking you slowly, as if to a little virgin he wanted to cherish and didn’t want to hurt.
“I’ll mark you as mine,” he nosed your neck, hungry. “Gonna breed you, give you a baby.”
You moaned, holding him closer.
“I’ll make you the lady of the Iron Islands,” he growled into your neck. “Fill that place with little redhead boys, show everyone how I fuck you every night, I’ll keep you pregnant all the time.”
Fucking beast of a man.
“Yes, Theon,” you moaned, and cried when his cock hit your sweet spot. “Please, make me your wife.”
His hand moved to your mouth, quickly covering it up with his hand.
“Careful, sweet Sansa,” he panted. “You father mustn’t know.”
You nodded, though still moaned when his cock brushed against your sweet spot again.
Theon was a fast learner. When he felt generous, he knew exactly when to make you feel pleasure.
And right now, you were his sweet Sansa, of course he would want you to feel the most pleasure.
Your peak threatened you again, and you arched your hips to him.
“Theon,” you panted, innocent, against his hand. “It’s… please… again.”
He growled into your neck.
“You’re going to peak for me again, sweet Sansa?” he asked. “I can feel your cunt squeezing my cock. Such a strong grip, my little maiden.”
“Please,” you panted. “I don’t know-”
“It’s alright,” he kissed your skin. “I can do it for you, sweet girl. Just take it. Keep giving me your sweet moans and I’ll do everything for you.”
You let him, and just rode your pleasure, peaking around his cock and taking it when you felt him trembling over you, spilling into your cunt as you still felt the sweet shocks.
He stayed inside you for a moment, tangled with you, sniffing your neck and holding you close, and you could feel the moment he remembered who he was laying with. Not his sweet Sansa, but just a whore.
“Alright,” he huffled, pulling away from you. “You can go now. Come back before the sun is down and I’ll help you dress up right to go to Jon.”
You frowned, confused.
“Go?” you asked. “Where?”
He rolled his eyes.
“Go down to the servants quarters or something,” he grunted. “They are waiting for a kitchen girl, anyway.”
You sighed, but picked up your things, dressing up and putting on your cloak, grabbing your bag.
“Fine,” you mumbled.
“I’ll pay you when you are done with Jon,” he warned you.
You nodded before leaving.
At least you would have a warm bed for the night.
. . .
"Lookalike" was posted on my Patreon back in October 2022! To read it before anyone else and have early access to my stories, consider subscribing to my page! It's just $2 a month, and it helps a lot!
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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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From Beyond The Wall
Part 1
The wind begins to howl mournfully, swirling snowflakes dancing in the air like lost spirits. The mountain remained still as night began to fall, leaving the brothers of the nights watch in the darkness of the north.
The fire crackles weakly, struggling against the encroaching cold, casting long shadows that flicker and dance across the frozen ground.
"Can you feel it, Jon?" one brother mutters, his teeth chattering as he huddles closer to the feeble warmth.
"A storm's coming. I can smell it in the air." Jon, his cloak pulled tight around him, nods solemnly. "Aye, a blizzard's upon us. We'll need to find better shelter if we're to survive the night."
In the cover of darkness beyond the glow of the fire, Y/n and her group lurk like shadows, their breath forming wisps of vapor in the frigid air. Ygritte, her fiery hair barely visible in the dim light, leans in close to Y/n, her voice barely above a whisper.
"We strike now, while they're weak and unprepared," she says, her blue eyes gleaming with determination. "We'll catch them by surprise, before the blizzard engulfs us all."
Y/n nods, her fingers tightening around the reins of her white horse, its breath steaming in the cold night air. "Agreed. Move on my signal.”
Y/n continue to watch in silence, glancing between the brothers and the free folk. She nodded to Ygritte, grasping her bow from the leather pouch. Y/n and her group emerge from the darkness, the crunch of snow beneath their boots muffled by the howling wind.
The brothers of the Night's Watch startle at the sudden onslaught, scrambling for their weapons as Y/n's group descends upon them like a winter storm unleashed.
"Take no prisoners!" Ygritte's voice rings out above the chaos, her bow singing as she looses arrow after arrow into the heart of the fray. the blizzard finally descends in full force, swallowing the scene in a swirling white blanket of snow and ice.
After a few minutes of the bloody onslaught Jon realizes his efforts were pointless as he is now surrounded.
Confused and heaving out heavy breaths he looks around to grasp his situation. He pauses mid turn at the sight of Y/n dismounting her horse gracefully, still holding her bow.
“Hold.” she raises her hand, signaling for them to hold their fire. The clash of swords and the cries of men fade into the background as Jon's gaze meets hers, his eyes locked on her figure clad in a fur cloak and a dress as white as the snow.
She approaches Jon with purpose, her footsteps leaving shallow imprints in the fresh snow. The wind tugs at her cloak, sending strands of hair swirling around her face like tendrils of shadow.
“Who are you?” he mumbles out, trying to find the words. He raises his hands slowly, his eyes flicking between Y/n and the members of her group surrounding him.
Y/n's lips curl into a confident smile as she keeps her arrow trained on Jon. "I am Y/n, Princess of the Free Folk," she declares, her voice ringing out clear despite the howling wind.
Jon's eyes widen in surprise at her proclamation, a flicker of realization dawning in his expression. He lowers his hands slowly, his gaze never leaving Y/n's face. "Princess of the Free Folk," he repeats, as if testing the words on his tongue.
Y/n nods, her grip tightening on her bow. "Indeed. And now, I command you to throw down your weapon and stand," she orders, her voice leaving no room for argument.
Jon hesitates for a moment, his gaze darting between Y/n and the looming figures of her group. But then, with a resigned sigh, he unclasps his sword belt and lets it fall to the ground with a heavy thud.
He stands tall, meeting Y/n's gaze, she studies Jon Snow intently as he stands before her, his demeanor composed despite the circumstances. "And who are you, truly?" Y/n asks, her voice softened but still firm.
Jon's gaze remains fixed on her, his expression unreadable behind the mask of snowflakes that cling to his beard. "I am Jon Snow, a brother of the Night's Watch," he replies. A laugh escapes her at the name. “Mhmm snow. You’re a Stark. Ned Starks bastard son.”
Hearing her call his name and addressing him as a Stark made his heart skip a beat. Yet he remained cautious, seeing how easily the wildings obeyed her. “I am…How did you know?” he asked, as he slowly took a step back.
“It’s not me who knows, its my brother. what business does the Night's Watch have this far beyond the Wall? Us wildings? White walkers?” He nods to both causing her to sigh.
Y/n turns to her companions, her gaze sweeping over them with authority. "Tie him up. We're bringing him home," she commands, her voice firm and resolute.
He is stunned by her order, his body freezes still where he stands. The wildlings nod in silent acknowledgment, swiftly moving to obey Y/n's orders.
They bind Jon Snow's hands tightly with rope, ensuring he poses no immediate threat as they prepare to escort him back to their camp.
Y/n's eyes then find Ygritte, who stands nearby, her bow at the ready. "Ygritte, you'll watch him from now on," Y/n instructs, her voice carrying a note of trust.
"Make sure he doesn't try anything foolish." They hand the rope to Ygritte, who accepts it with a nod of gratitude.
With a swift motion, she mounts her horse, her cloak billowing behind her like a banner of authority. As she settles into the saddle, her eyes meet Jon's, and there's a flicker of something unspoken between them, a tension that crackles in the frigid air like lightning.
"Let's go," she commands, her voice cutting through the howling wind. "We have to make it back before dawn."
Jon's heart races as he watches her, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of her. A sudden chill runs through his back, he struggles against his restraints, approaching your horse slowly. “You really won’t say anything, huh? Just going to tie me up and drag me with you.”
Y/n meets his gaze, a spark of mischief dancing in her eyes. “That’s how I like my men, Snow.” She stated with a devious grin. A cold look appears on his face immediately realizing what she meant by those words. Yet all he can do is be silent and follow behind you, keeping up as his body is pushed every which way by the pelting snow.
…
They finally reach the Wildling camp, Y/n dismounts her horse with a graceful ease and gives her horse a gentle pat on the neck, murmuring words of gratitude as she glances toward the towering big tent that serves as the heart of their encampment.
The women of the camp emerged from their makeshift shelters, their laughter and chatter filling the air as they danced with their children under the fading light of the day.
Giants lumbered about, their massive forms silhouetted against the twilight sky as they worked alongside the Free Folk, tending to the needs of the camp with quiet efficiency.
With a nod to Ygritte, who stands by Jon Snow's side with a watchful gaze, Y/n orders, "Bring the crow with you." she takes hold of Jon's arm, guiding him towards the tent alongside her.
Pushing open the flap of the tent, Y/n steps inside, the warmth of the fire within enveloping her like a comforting embrace.
Ygritte and Jon enter behind her, Y/n's gaze sweeps over the assembled group, taking in the familiar faces of her companions, as well as the curious glances directed towards their captive.
“Oh dear brother. I have a gift.” Mance, ever the troubadour, sat in a corner, his fingers strumming a haunting melody on his lute, the notes drifting through the air like whispers on the wind, weaving a tale of a Dornish woman's forbidden love.
He departs from his pregnant wife’s side. "What's this?" he asked, his gaze sweeping over Ygritte, Rattleshirt, and the newcomer with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. "A crow?"
“Ygritte found the crow, Jon Snow, the bastard of Winterfell!” she introduced. “Release him.” With a collective nod, Ygritte moves to obey, her hands deftly untying the ropes that bind Jon's wrists before pushing him forward.
Mance's piercing blue eyes fix on Jon, assessing him with a shrewd intensity. "A crow," he remarks, his voice low and measured. "What brings you so far beyond your Wall?"
Jon meets Mance's gaze with a steady stare, his jaw set with determination. "I seek answers," he replies, his voice steady despite the weight of his words. "Answers about the darkness that threatens to engulf us all."
Mance nods thoughtfully, his expression unreadable. "And what answers do you hope to find here, among the Free Folk?"
Jon's gaze flickers with resolve as he speaks. "I seek allies," he declares, his voice ringing out clear and strong. "Allies in the fight against the true enemy, the Night King and his army of the dead."
A murmur ripples through the gathered Wildlings at Jon's words, their faces reflecting a mixture of skepticism and curiosity. Mance, however, remains impassive, his gaze fixed on Jon with a calculating intensity.
"Allies," he repeats, his voice echoing in the tense silence of the tent. "The Night's Watch and the Free Folk, united against a common foe. A bold proposition, Jon Snow. But one that may yet prove to be our salvation."
…
The conversation with Mance concludes and the orders are given, Y/n watches as Ygritte leads Jon Snow and his direwolf away from the tent.
With a heavy sigh, Y/n turns away, her steps leading her back to her own tent. She sheds her fur cloak with a weary grace, allowing it to fall to the ground as she settles onto the floor, her legs crossed beneath her.
Closing her eyes, Y/n takes a deep breath, centering herself before allowing her mind to drift into the depths of warging. As her consciousness expands, she feels the pull of the nearby animals, their instincts calling out to her in the darkness.
With a gentle push, Y/n's spirit leaves her body, merging with that of a nearby fox. She feels the rush of freedom as she darts through the snow-covered landscape, her senses heightened by the wildness of her new form.
She approaches the bodies of the fallen Black Brothers, a sudden movement jolts her back to reality. The fox springs back in fear, its eyes locking with those of a figure rising from the snow.
Y/n's heart pounds in her chest as she stares into the ice-blue eyes of the reanimated corpse. The corpse lunges forward as it reaches out with cold dead hands.
With a burst of speed, the fox races southward, its breath coming in ragged gasps as it flees from the looming threat. Y/n's eyes snap open abruptly, her breath coming out raggedly as she sits up. She dons her fur cloak once more, the fabric billowing around her like a protective barrier against the biting cold.
Rushing from her tent, Y/n heads straight for Mance, her footsteps quick and purposeful in the snow. She finds him surrounded by his advisors, deep in conversation about their next move. "Mance, we need to leave now," Y/n declares, her voice urgent as she approaches him.
Mance turns to her, his brow furrowed in confusion. "We've just arrived at our camp. Surely we can afford to rest for a while."
But Y/n shakes her head adamantly, her eyes flashing with determination. "No, Mance. We can't afford to stay here any longer, thinking about Dalla" she insists, her voice unwavering.
Mance studies her for a moment, weighing her words carefully. But then, with a resigned sigh, he nods in reluctant agreement. "Very well, Y/n," he concedes, "We'll leave in a few days."
…
Y/n stood before the gathered clans, her hair blowing in the biting gusts as she surveyed the uneasy faces staring back at her.
"As you know, the white walkers arise once more from the dead," she called out, her voice carrying over the murmurs that rippled through the crowd. "As your Princess, I swear to lead you safely to the Wall."
She continued, her tone firm, "My brother has brought together the Free Folk like no one has before." Gesturing to Mance, who stood with his wife behind her, she emphasized, "But winter is coming—the harshest in memory. The dead will rise to join the White Walkers' army. They will not wait for spring!"
The truth of her words sank in among the Free Folk, glances exchanged as the severity of the situation settled upon them. Mance stepped forward, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
"The princess speaks true," he declared, his voice carrying authority. "The Wall is our only refuge against the storm. We must begin the march at once... before it is too late."
Agreement murmured through the clans, and Y/n nodded gratefully to Mance. Drawing her furs tighter against the cold, she caught sight of Jon Snow, his gaze meeting hers for a fleeting moment before flickering away.
…
In the wake of her stirring speech, preparations for the journey to the Wall began in earnest. The clans bustled with activity, packing supplies, sharpening weapons, and tending to their families in anticipation of the arduous trek ahead.
The moon hung low in the sky, casting its silvery light over the rugged landscape, and the distant howls of wolves echoed through the valleys.
It was there, in the quiet stillness of the night, that Y/n encountered her brother's pregnant wife once more. She stood alone, her silhouette outlined against the moonlit horizon, a solitary figure in the darkness.
"Are you all right?" Y/n asked softly as she turned to face her, her expression unreadable in the dim light. Y/n walked closer to where she was standing, her boots crunching on the frozen ground. "I'm fine," she replied curtly.
Y/n studied her for a moment, sensing the weight of her burden in the lines of her face and the tension in her shoulders. There was a distance between them, a chasm that seemed insurmountable.
"I wanted to thank you," Y/n said earnestly, breaking the silence that hung heavy between them. "For standing with me back there. Your support means more to me than you know."
Her gaze softened, a flicker of warmth in the depths of her eyes. "You don't have to thank me," she replied, her voice gentle. "We're in this together, whether we like it or not." There was a moment of quiet understanding between them as they stood together beneath the starlit sky.
…
give me some feedback, i'd like to know if this sucks lol
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HEY!
If yall send me in requests for GOT/Peaky blinders/The Sandman/male (y/n)/something new I'll give you a cookie.
Do it or I'll throw your atoms in the hydrocolider. Punk.
Ok bye <3
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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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A New Life- Sandor Clegane x OC
So i wrote my first fanfic. it’s technically an x OC but can be read as an x reader. It is written with female pronouns. written in first person perspective.
Summary: Years after the Great and Final wars, Sandor Clegane has finally been able to settle down and have a family.
Seven years after the War of the Dead and the end of the Lannister and Targarean rule. Bran has now taken over as King of the Six Kingdoms. Many lives were lost in both wars, Jorah and Lyanna Mormont, Beric Dondarrian, Theon Greyjoy, Missandei of Narth, Gregor Clegane, Jaime and Cersie Lannister, and Daenerys Targaryen.
A loud Thwack broke me from my thoughts. Giggling was heard outside and thudding followed. I moved to the window facing the backyard and sat on the bench installed on it. Outside was Sandor, he was setting up another log to cut for the fireplace. He wore a brown shirt and gray pants, his boots were worn and needed to be replaced. Four children joined him outside, the oldest- Devan- was moving the cut wood into a nice pile and grabbing more pieces for Sandor to cut. His twin- Arianna or Ari- was collecting dandelions in a little wicker basket. The youngest girl- Rayna- was sitting by the apple tree in the yard and reading to the baby of the family- Spencer.
Smiling, I moved to the backdoor and slipped on my shoes. I opened the door and stepped outside. “Mama!”, Ari exclaimed running at me full speed. I crouched and wrapped my arms around her tiny waist and picked her up. She dropped the basket and put her arms around my neck. I smooched her on the cheek, “Hello Sweet Girl.”, I moved her long brown hair out of her face and behind her ear.
I put Ari down and she ran over to the apple tree to join two of her siblings. Sandor stood infront of me and leaned down. His beard tickled my chin and cheeks when we kissed. Giggling, I looked up at him, “You’ve been at it all morning. Perhaps you could take a break?” He huffed at me and smiled. “Aye, just wanted to make sure we had enough wood.” He kissed me again and wrapped my arms around his neck pulling him down more. There was a loud gagging noise, separating we looked over to see Devan looking at us with disgust as he held a cut piece of wood. I laughed and let go of Sandor. “Alright everyone inside, lunch is ready.” The children hurriedly collected there things and went to run inside. Ari with her wicker basket, Rayna with her book, and Devan giving Spencer a piggyback ride. Once the children were inside I turned back to my husband. Scooping me up into his arms, he kissed me again. Smiling into it, I put my hand in his hair. We separated and looked at each other.
“I love you, my Hound.”
“I love you too, Little Vixian”
#fanfic#fanfiction#writing#game of thrones#Sandor clegane#Sandor clegane x oc#sandor clegane x reader
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» OPEN FANFICS REQUESTS ☽
y = young, a = adult. Bold means I love writing about them
I write soft NSFW, love triangles, social media au, modern setting and I’m willing to follow any trope, you can be specific if you want.
(I’m sorry if I haven’t included your fave, I just write about the ones I like)
CELEBRITIES
Pedro Pascal, Oscar Isaac, Tom Hardy, Ewan McGregor, Cillian Murphy, Jake Gyllenhaal, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Andrew Lincoln, Norman Reedus, John Bernthal, Evan Peters, William Zabka, Jensen Ackles, Antony Starr, Karl Urban, Johnny Depp, Brad Pitt, Jack Nicholson, Matthew McConaughey, Enzo Vogrincic, Harrison Ford, Alain Delon, Marlon Brando, Bruce Springsteen
THE WALKING DEAD
Rick Grimes, Daryl Dixon, Negan Smith, Michonne, Carl Grimes
Rick x Michonne, Rick x Daryl, Abraham x Sasha, Rosita x Tara, Daryl x Connie
GAME OF THRONES / HOUSE OF THE DRAGON / ASOIAF
Tyrion Lannister, Jaime Lannister, Jon Snow, Sandor Clegane, Oberyn Martell, Stannis Baratheon, Daenerys Targaryen, Cersei Lannister, Petyr Baelish, Tywin Lannister, Sansa Stark, Robb Stark, Theon Greyjoy, Ned Stark, Robert Baratheon, Jorah Mormont, Asha/Yara Greyjoy, Brienne of Tarth, Benjen Stark, Euron Greyjoy, Beric Dondarrion, Daemon Targaryen, Harwin Strong, Aemond Targaryen, Aegon II Targaryen, Jacaerys Velaryon, Cregan Stark
Jaime x Brienne, Sansa x Theon, Jon x Daenerys, Jon x Sansa, Stannis x Davos, Robb x Theon, Jon x Satin, Ned x Robert, Robert x Lyanna, Cersei x Oberyn, Tyrion x Oberyn, Jaime x Oberyn, Sansa x Margaery, Daenerys x Asha/Yara, Daenerys x Jorah, Daenerys x Euron, Stannis x Davos, Melisandre x Stannis, Rhaenyra x Daemon, Rhaenyra x Harwin, Rhaenyra x Alicent, Daemon x Laena, Jaecerys x Cregan
STAR WARS
Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, Han Solo, Din Djarin, Boba Fett, Shin Hati, Darth Maul
Han x Leia, Han x Lando, Anakin x Padme, Obi-Wan x Satine, Obi-Wan x Darth Maul, Obi-Wan x Cody, Finn x Poe, Din x Luke, Din x Cobb Vanth, Shin Hati x Sabine
ATTACK ON TITAN
Eren Yeager, Jean Kirstein, Reiner Braun, Annie Leonhart, Porco Galliard
Erwin x Levi, Jean x Marco, Eren x Mikasa, Mikasa x Annie, Eren x Reiner, Reiner x Jean, Eren x Jean, Mikasa x Jean, Pieck x Porco, Reiner x Porco
JUJUTSU KAISEN
Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Ryomen Sukuna, Yuji Itadori, Nanami Kento, Toji Fushiguro, Megumi Fushiguro, Maki Zenin, Nobara Kugisaki, Mahito, Choso, Yuta Okkotsu, Shiu Kong
Gojo x Geto, Sukuna x Megumi, Yuji x Megumi, Nanami x Haibara, Maki x Yuta, Mahito x Geto
MORTAL KOMBAT 1
Johnny Cage, Kenshi, Liu Kang, Kitana, Bi-Han
Johnny x Kenshi, Liu Kang x Kitana
COBRA KAI / THE KARATE KID
Johnny Lawrence (y/a), Daniel LaRusso (y/a), Miguel Diaz, Eli Moskowitz/Hawk, Tory Nichols, Sam LaRusso, Terry Silver
Johnny x Daniel (y/a), Miguel x Sam, Miguel x Tory, Tory x Robby, Miguel x Robby, Eli/Hawk x Moon, Kreese x Terry (y/a)
HARRY POTTER
Harry, Draco, Ron, Hermione, Cedric, James (y/a), Sirius (y/a), Remus (y/a), Albus (y), Lucius (y/a), Barty
Harry x Draco, Ron x Hermione, Sirius x Remus (y/a), Harry x Cedric
MARVEL COMICS / MCU
Frank Castle, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Thor, Loki, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Yelena Belova, Kate Bishop, Stephen Strange, Peter Parker (any version), Felicia Hardy, Carol Danvers, Peter Quill, Gamora, Wanda Maximoff, Vision, T’Challa, Victor Von Doom, Erik Lehnsherr, Matt Murdock, Elektra, Maria Hill, Reed Richards, Johnny Storm, Susan Storm, Ben Grimm
Tony x Bruce, Loki x Mobius, Sam x Bucky, Tony x Bucky, Bucky x Natasha, Natasha x Yelena (non mcu), Yelena x Kate, Peter x Gamora, Scott x Hope, Frank x Matt, Frank x Karen, Victor x Tony, Victor x Reed, Victor x Stephen, Reed x Susan
DC COMICS / DCEU
Bruce Wayne (any version), Selina Kyle, John Constantine, Diana
Bruce x Selina, Bruce x Harvey Dent, John x Zatanna, John x Bruce, Roman Sionis x Victor Zsasz, Harley Quinn x Diana
OTHERS
Thomas Shelby (Peaky Blinders), John Shelby (Peaky Blinders), Ragnar Lothbrock (Vikings), Joe Goldberg (You), Joe Goldberg x Rhys Montrose (You), Tyler Durden (Fight Club), Rust Cohle (True Detective), Kai Anderson (AHS), Tate Langdon (AHS), Tate Langdon x Violet Harmon (AHS), James March (AHS), Lalo Salamanca x Nacho Varga (Breaking Bad), Billy Butcher (The Boys), Soldier Boy (The Boys)
#the walking dead#game of thrones#mortal kombat#a song of ice and fire#attack on titan#jujutsu kaisen#marvel#mcu#dc comics#harry potter#star wars#x reader#house of the dragon#formula 1#american horror story#fanfiction
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Soooo, my fanfic blog is not showing up in the tags again and I once again ask you to vote on what Canon x Reader fic I should start next week. Here
The deep sea calls for Us (Jonelle Mallister x Asha Greyjoy)
A fine sacrifice for the Sea (Cosette Hightower x Euron Greyjoy)
Of Blinding Ambition and Ruthless Greed (Alys Frey x Robb Stark)
The Day the Sea froze (Serena Stark x Theon Greyjoy)
The Rain hasn't ceased yet (Indra Reyne x Tywin Lannister)
#asoiaf#Asha greyjoy#euron greyjoy#robb stark#theon greyjoy#tywin lannister#asoiaf oc#asoiaf x reader#I like the collage for Rain best lol
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Theon Greyjoy in the style of American Gods (Season 3) @theon-appreciation
#Theon Greyjoy#American Gods#Game of Thrones#Crossover? I guess#Alfie Allen#Posters#Didn't know when to post this#But what better time than#Theon Week#A Week of Theon#AWOT#I hope it's okay to tag it that#Even though it's not a fanfic#Theon Greyjoy Edit#currently kraken fanart#if you see this on instagram under ghost.404#no worries#that's me#I'm stealing from myself#American Gods x Game of Thrones Crossover#Theon Greyjoy American Gods Style
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@attaining-fic
There’s summer snow in Robb’s hair, stark white against the dark, rusty read. Cold and wet and beautiful all at once, Theon thinks. It’s much how Robb has been lately too: solemn and distant, his kingship both weighing him down with even more duties and necessities of honor than usual, and yet he grows more handsome with each day as he comes into his own. You’re not a boy anymore, Theon had told him back at Winterfell. He had been correct even then, but he hadn’t quite grasped the price of that yet. Robb is Lord of Winterfell now—nay, King In the North. And Theon… Theon had somehow missed the moment when everything changed. Perhaps it had not been a moment but a slow decent, and he had only now noticed. Now that it is far too late to change anything.
Robb stands with the summer snows tangling in his hair and the fur on his shoulders, staring out into the dark. Theon comes to stand beside him. Whispering Wood, what a name, he thinks, but doesn’t say anything. Robb is clearly not in a talking mood.
After some time, Robb says, “Tomorrow night we’ll be fighting like as not.”
Theon can’t help the smirk that pulls at his mouth. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” Sometimes he wants to shake Robb and say, stop being so serious all the time. You barely smile anymore; it’d odd. But he doesn’t say that and he doesn’t touch Robb at all.
“It could be a great victory or…a blunder.”
“Doubting yourself all of a sudden, Stark?” Your Grace, it should be. But Theon can’t bring himself to say it – certainly not very seriously. The words taste of ash and bitterness in his mouth. At least Robb doesn’t seem to mind.
“Well don’t go around telling my bannermen.” He says it lightly enough to be a joke.
“And undermine your grandeur and invincibility? Never.”
He expects Robb to laugh or roll his eyes or return the banter. Not to wince and shake his head. In the dark, Theon feels Robb’s fingers close around his wrist and hold fast. He really is nervous, Theon thinks. He pulls his wrist out of Robb’s grasp, but only to take Robb’s hand and bring it up to his lips. “You’re not going to fail.”
“You don’t know that.”
Theon looks up to meet Robb’s eyes in the evening gloom. “I know you.” There’s the slightest hint of a smile curling Robb’s mouth as he looks down at their joined hands and Theon wants badly to kiss him. Instead, he says, a little too loudly, “Come have a drink with me, then off to bed with you.”
Robb rolls his eyes, says, “yes, Mother,” but follows him back to camp all the same.
#this turned into somewhat more than a drabble but you know#throbb#theon x robb#theon greyjoy#robb stark#robb x theon#ASoIaF#game of thrones#fanfic#op#yes i realize i screwed up the timeline don't @ me
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What We Sow
Pairing: Theon Greyjoy x Greyjoy!Reader
Warnings: game of thrones canonical siblingxsibling, sister-wife, violence, dark!reader?, euron being an asshat, voyeurism?, mention of torture, book!theon, oral (male receiving), p in v
Words: 6425
The rugged coastline of Pyke was the greatest thing to Theon's eyes. It meant his return home after a long journey that was filled with trading with not only the rest of Westeros but also smaller islands off the coast of Essos. Water churned with a restless energy, reflecting the overcast sky above. The Iron Islands had always been a place of harsh beauty, where the relentless sea and the unforgiving elements shaped both the land and its people. To an outsider's eye, the Iron Islands might appear as an eyesore, a desolate and forbidding place where life was a constant battle against the elements. Craggy cliffs, salt-stained rocks, and windswept trees clinging stubbornly to life. The sky, today, was an uninviting gray, as if the heavens themselves were reluctant to welcome Theon back. All of it was so endearing to him though. Theon couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness welling up inside him. Very soon he'd be able to hold his beloved in his arms.
This was his home, a place where the salt of the sea and the cries of seagulls were a constant presence and where you were. Waiting so patiently as always. His queen, his sister, his wife. He'd been dreaming of the moment when he'd be reunited with you after so long.
As the ship glided into the sheltered harbor, Theon could see the familiar faces of his subjects lining the shore, their weathered features breaking into smiles as they recognized their king. Faces that would have sneered at him previously since he'd been a ward of the Warden of the North for a number of years. Who would have thought that the salt people were actually capable of expressing joy.
King. Funny how the title his father had longed for was now Theon's. Smugness swells his chest when he thinks back to the salty old bastard that was Balon Greyjoy. He wished that Balon had a physical grave where Theon and you could dance upon it. No love lost for the death of their father. In fact it was the start of something wonderful for the Iron Isles. Not since the time of Lord Harren Greyjoy had the islands experienced such a flush of opportunity and growth. And of course he had you to thank as well. You were his anchor. The only person who could talk reason into him and quell his anger.
He would not be the king he was without you. Loving you had never been easy. While the faith of the Drowned God did not have any discrimination against incest, many in Westeros looked down on it as a reminder of their once Targaryen rulers. Not just that but the Faith of the Seven viewed it as extremely abhorrent. Your love was kept a deep dark secret while the two of you lived under the guiding hand of Ned Stark. The salt people didn't think twice of it though. Theon proved himself a better ruler than his father and everyone knew much of that was thanks to his sister-wife. They wouldn't complain. Now that many of the islanders were becoming more busy thanks to the opening of trade through their ports and the reconstruction of not just Pyke, but the other six islands as well.
Dock workers and sailors alike help those on deck, unload their cargo as Theon descends the gangplank, boots clanging against the wooden planks as he made his way to solid ground. The feel of the dock beneath his feet was a welcome one.
"Oy! Is that my brother the king?!" Came the crowing voice of his other sister Asha. She was on a neighboring ship the Black Wind, dangling off of one of the ratlines carelessly.
He grins, surveying her as Asha swiftly jumps down. A dockhand hands Theon the reins of his readied horse. He nods in thanks and turns back to Asha who was now strutting up the dock to give her brother a big hug. Their relationship had been rocky in the beginning when Theon first arrived back on the isles.
"Asha! Can't believe I'm actually saying this, but aren't you a sight for sore eyes." His arms embrace his older sister, bringing her into probably a less than fragrant body.
Asha snorts and is the first to release the hug. "A mule would be a sight for sore eyes for you by how long you've been gone." Her eyes soften as she gestures with her head toward their home. "The queen has been missing you."
"As I have missed her." Theon's chest flutters as it always did when he thought of you. You were his heart and soul after all.
She chuffs him on the shoulder. "Well, best not to keep either of you waiting then, eh?"
They ride off together. While he knew you were a patient lady, Theon was not. He wanted you in his arms as soon as possible. He urged his horse to go as fast as it could run along the rocky terrain.
Constructed from the same dark, weathered stone as the surrounding cliffs, giving it an almost otherworldly appearance as it melded seamlessly with its natural surroundings was their ancestral home. It was a place where saltwater spray had etched its mark, leaving streaks of briny residue on the walls that bore witness to countless storms. A series of narrow bridges and walkways connected the various towers and buildings of the castle, each one precariously suspended above the churning waters below. The cause of Balon's demise.
The main keep, which housed the Greyjoy family, rose from the center of the fortress like a dark, brooding sentinel. Its towering, angular walls were crowned with crenellations that cast stark shadows against the overcast sky. Theon could see the Greyjoy banner, a kraken of black on a field of gold, billowing in the wind above the keep, a symbol of his family's dominion over the Iron Islands.
Making it into the fortress' stables, Theon and Asha dismount from his horse and handed the reins to a waiting stable hand. Those who had spotted his arrival on horseback had come out to greet their king and his most trusted advisor. An up and rising young lord from Blacktyde, Kyllan Stewar, takes Theon by the forearm as was the custom greeting.
"Welcome back, Your Grace." Kyllan's smile is wide despite cracked lips that were common in this weather.
"Good to be back, Lord Stewar." Theon replies though his attention is elsewhere. "My queen?"
"Where else would our exuberant queen be?" Lord Kyllan chuckles knowingly. There was only one answer: the training yard.
Much like your siblings, you grew restless sitting around in a pretty dress. You loathed needlework and playing instruments of any kind. Your fingers weren't meant for delicate tasks. They were meant to wield deadly weapons.
You prefer to spend your days out in the fresh, salt air with either a blade or bow grasped in your hand.
The moment you spot Theon and Asha walking into the yard though, you let your sword fall to the ground; quickly forgetting about the young knight that you had been sparring with. Your legs move faster than your mind could think, on instinct they run toward Theon.
He collides into you, strong arms sweeping you up and off your feet. His grip could be considered suffocating to any other woman. You want him to break your bones though. To absorb you into his body so that you could always be with him.
"It's about damn time." You dig your fingers into his black hair, twisting the locks around your digits as Theon is now completely holding you up. Nostrils flare as you inhale his musky scent that mingles with the salty air. A primal smell stuck to your brother from weeks without a proper bath. But it was all him. "What took you so long?"
Theon chuckles and peppers the crown of your head in numerous butterfly kisses. "My apologies, your grace. There was lots of trading to be done overseas. Our oysters and mussels are the talk of the kingdom." You didn't like when he pulls away from you and you feel a pout rising on your lips until he crashes his mouth against your's. Relenting, you meet his hungry fervor; biting his bottom lip and keeping it as your captive for a moment before diving back into the kiss.
In the background, you hear the clearing of Asha's throat as she reminds the both of you that you were among other lords who were watching the reunion unfold. While many didn't care about your incestuous relationship, they didn't necessarily like being reminded of it with displays of affection. Not caring for what they think, Theon would have continued on kissing you until the sun went down, but you were more tactical and didn't want to make anyone uncomfortable, especially toward men who supported Theon's claim to the salt throne.
Sighing, you pat Theon on his chest and ignore his frustrated groan and turn him around to face his men. They stand straighter at his attention. "Men, our feast tonight will be overflowing with the finest red meat Westeros had to offer us!"
They cheer, red meat had been a rarity in the islands besides goat and lamb they could spare. Actual beef was worth more than any gold dragon to them. The Crownlands boast the most cattle and they just so happened to enjoy the large oysters that were abundant in the Iron Islands. Even your mouth watered at the thought of the meat being unloaded into the kitchens of the castle.
Heading back to the Greyjoy fortress, Theon cocks his head toward you with that smug grin of his. Holding out his arm to you in a warm gesture. "My queen, shall we follow?"
Immediately you latch onto his extended arm. You wouldn't be leaving his side any time soon. You plan on monopolizing his attention for the rest of the evening. Damn the other lords who have important business to discuss with him. You were Theon's number one priority.
"What the fuck is he doing here." You didn't bother to keep the vulgarity from your vocabulary nor the venom that dripped off of every word you hissed out. It wasn't phrased as a question. A demand more like it from the lord who had delivered the news that your uncle Euron had shown up on the docks like he owned the place.
Heat rose to your cheeks and down your neck at what this threat could bring to the prosperity of the islands. Euron could potentially fuck up everything you and Theon worked so hard to build.
Theon watches his sister's rare temper come to surface. There was little that could truly tick you off enough that you would raise your voice. He almost found it amusing since it was an event that didn't happen often. That's why he merely leans back in his throne and observes you in all of your haughty splendor.
"Well. . . he says since Balon is dead that he should be able to return to Pyke." The lord hesitantly continues, nervous eyes dart to Theon a bit helplessly but Theon was not going to be the one to stop you from fuming.
Asha barks out a cruel laugh. "Oh that's rich. Like that's going to undo the baby he put in the belly of Victarion's saltwife. Or bring her back to life."
Victarion who was present in the throne room, glares at his niece for her callousness. Both Victarion and Aeron did share her sentiment about Euron though. He should not be let back into the inner circle of the family.
Another liege lord pipes in "He's making quite the ruckus out in the courtyard. He's insisting an audience with you, your grace."
Indeed, everyone in the audience chamber could hear Euron's booming voice from the other hall. Grating on your nerves, you look to Theon to gauge his reaction just to find him still staring at you. Lazily his lips curl into a smile now that he had your intention.
You would have found it cute any other time, but your patience was wearing incredibly thin. "Well? We're going to turn him away, aren't we? He has no place here in our Iron Islands. We do not raid anymore. He is a reminder of that century old practice that near ruined us."
The way you spoke with such authority really did get Theon's cock hard but this was no place or time for a hard-on. "I understand why you and many others may not want him back on Pyke." He kept his eyes solely on you as if you were the only one he was talking to. "But Euron does know how to rouse the people into work."
"That can be a bad thing, my love. He can rouse people the wrong way. We do not want to go back to paying the iron price. That's not how this world works anymore. It's evolving. We're evolving." Your words may have come off as harsh, but honestly you were scared. Scared that Theon could see the fear in your eyes too. So much had been done for the islands. Your people were now prospering and not being looked down by the rest of the world. There were even some from Faircastle and Banefort coming and joining the faith of the Drowned Man which made your Uncle Aeron jump for joy (that is if he was capable of such an intense emotion).
"Like usual, your queen is right." Aeron quips. Theon nearly rolls his eyes but manages to keep them trained on you. Where was the lie though? Even Theon knew it was you who really ran things around here. You'd always been smarter than him. You were the baby of the family but acted like the eldest.
His smile softens. "I know she is. But we should at least hear him out. If only for a few moments."
"Just a few minutes." Huffing in your own throne, you flick your gaze to the lord who had informed you of Euron's arrival. "The very moment he steps out of line, I want him off our island. He would be grateful enough that we let him leave with his life."
Oh, he wanted to fuck you right in front of everyone that instant. Have you bent over his throne and wear the seadrift crown as he rails into you. All of that would have to wait though. There was no way you were as horny as he was right now.
With his consent, Euron was brought in.
He leisurely waltzes in, a familiar cocky grin plastered on his face that resembled the one your brother usually wore. You didn't like it on his face. Once his eyes land on you though, his smile dims. "Well, you grew up into quite the beauty."
You resist the urge to vomit. "Uncle, what brings you here to Pyke? Our father banished you. That banishment still remains."
Euron all but chuckles at the lofty air you carried about you. A gleam of reverence shimmers in his visible blue eye. The other that was covered with an eyepatch, you knew, was deep black much like his soul. It takes effort for him to retract his attention from you and to finally regard your brother, the king, seated next to you. "I wanted to see my beloved family. Excuse me, the King and Queen of the Iron Islands. Imagine my shock to learn that my niece and nephew took up the Targaryen custom of marrying one another. Balon must be rolling in his watery grave. I was even more shocked to see Pyke. The two of you have really cleaned up the place. The soil actually has greenery to it now."
Theon remained quiet, observing his uncle and the way the Crow's Eye would size you up every now and then as he was speaking. A long time ago, he would have immediately felt the sizzle of jealousy. He was a grown man now. His love for you had evolved above jealousy as you had reassured him through the years that you were his and he was your's. Even Robb Stark wasn't able to woo you away from him, though the match would have been beneficial to both the Starks and Greyjoys. And there was absolutely no way you would reciprocate Euron's lustful stares. Theon could see you physically recoil at his leering.
Subtly, his hand lands atop of your's, pulling you away from Euron. He smiles softly before replying "Yes, Pyke has come a long way since you've been here. The old ways were not beneficial to our people and unfortunately you still represent that. You can imagine the threat you pose to our achievements, uncle."
Victarion could be heard grumbling from off to the side where Aeron hushes him into silence. It doesn't go unnoticed by Euron who shoots his brother an goading wink that only furthered Victarion's flush of anger.
"Threat? I bring no threat." Euron chuckles and takes a step toward your throne. Asha who was silently standing next to you puts herself between you and Euron, sending a message that he was not to come any closer. Her hand moves to her sword, eyes hard with her warning. "I wish to be part of the greatness you have created here! Even in Essos I've heard of the prospering Iron Islands. Did you know your products have reached even that of Qarth?"
Of course you knew. No traders left without the crown's consent.
"What makes you think you have anything to offer the islands?" Asha sneers. His words were as trustworthy as a snake's.
His smile twitches in vexation. "I am a changed man, niece." He spits out the last word with mirth. "I have my dearly departed brother Balon to thank for that. His banishment was actually the best thing for me. My years spent wandering Essos has tempered me into a wiser and more resourceful man. I have newfound knowledge that would greatly contribute to the Iron Islands. I wish only to serve."
Putting on quite the display of fealty, Euron bends the knee to you and Theon; bowing his head deeply in reverence.
Murmurs spring up in the throne room. Many were those of doubts. Some were of intrigue. Your hand that was under Theon's curl letting Theon know of your disquiet thoughts. Theon flicks his attention on the other lords lingering around. "Leave us."
While the lords obeyed their king, your other two uncles were more hesitant to leave. This was a family matter afterall and they deserved a say in whatever decision you and Theon made.
"You two as well." He informs Victarion and Aeron.
Pursing his lips, Victarion is dragged away by Aeron Damphair. His scornful glare never leaves Euron who waves at them tauntingly.
When their footsteps fade away, Theon surprises you by standing up. You and Asha exchange wary glances before you too stand next to your husband. As a trio, you and your siblings walk down the raised dais to stand directly in front of Euron. Up close you do notice that he wasn't that bad looking. You would even call him handsome, much like Theon. They must have gained all the good looks in the Greyjoy family.
"Walk with us, uncle." Theon beseeches.
"Please stop glaring at me like that." Theon hated when you were upset with him. Euron had proved that he indeed possessed knowledge that would be beneficial to the islands which irritated both you and Asha even more.
"This is a bad idea, Theon." Pacing back and forth in your chambers, all you could think of was the calamity that Euron's presence could bring. Anxiously you chew on your cuticles, a nasty habit you'd had since childhood. It soothed you though and dampened the swirling thoughts that plagued you.
He watches helplessly as you just refuse to be still. "My love-"
You shake your head. "Don't 'my love' me. I can't believe you're letting him stay. Others will have issue with this too."
Catching you by the hand, Theon implores you to still your body. Grudgingly you do stop your pacing only to frown at him. You didn't yank your hand out of his grip but allowed him to slowly pull you onto his lap. Once settled in, his thumb smoothes against your cheek. "Our supporters are many. People trust us. If Euron dares to raise a hand against either of us, he will face repercussions from our citizens. And don't forget Asha would never let him get close to our wing of the castle. I don't think she'll be sleeping tonight."
"I. . . I just remember the stories father would tell us about him." Your eyes flutter closed, grimacing with the thought of Balon's gravely voice recalling his treacherous brother.
"Your fears are valid. I know. I know he can't be completely trusted. But we're strong enough to handle him if he does get the idea in trying to harm us."
True. If Euron really knew the other side of you. . . he would not have returned at all. He would stay far away, the only wise thing to do.
Still sullen about the turn of events, all you could do was nod and place a small kiss on Theon's forehead.
"Very well."
You leave, not feeling any better. The clicking of your boots against the stone floor seemed incredibly loud in your ears. You hate how uneasy you feel in your own home. Like Euron would pop out of nowhere-
"Sweet niece."
Fuck.
Feeling stupid for leaving your sword behind, you reluctantly swivel on your heel to address your uncle. "Euron. You're not allowed here. Where are the attendants that we gave you?"
"I told them they could have the day off." Was all he would give you. Something spoiled your gut watching him strut toward you, thinking himself hot shit. Practically purring, his voice was smooth as the sea on a calm day, "You are a vision of beauty, even amidst the stormy shores of Pyke. Time on the mainland was good to you evidently."
Nails bite into your palm, the one thing keeping your facade neutral and gaze unwavering. Euron's silver tongue and beguiling charm was well known and he used it to seduce both men and women for both sex and war. "Your words are kind, uncle. But I must tell you that you should refrain from saying anymore from here on out."
His laugh grates against your hearing. "But we're family!" A dark undertone lowers his voice. "And apparently you have no problem with having family say sweet nothings to you. Or is that only for your brother?"
"Watch what you say." Your own tone is icy sharp. "You're lucky he even allowed you to stay here. You do not hold any kind of power in our court."
In faux defense, he holds up is hands. "My apologies, your grace. I see I have touched a nerve. I'm just saying, if blood is of no issue to you, then I willingly offer myself as a paramore to the queen. Loyalty can be such a confining chain. Why tether yourself to just one man? Have you ever tasted another's lips besides your brother's?"
Your eyes flash with a steely resolve as you step forward. "My loyalty is not a chain and you have stepped out of line. I need no other lover except for my king and husband, you unworthy worm. Get out of our wing before I truly lose my temper. If I even smell you here again I will have you hanged. Kin or not."
Like the rest of Westeros, kinslaying was beyond abhorrent. You did not make the promise lightly and Euron was aware that you would keep true to it.
Euron's demeanor shifted slightly, his charming facade cracking to reveal a hint of frustration and resentment. His lips curl with a retort but you raise your voice loud enough for any nearby guard to here. "GET OUT OF HERE."
The abrupt loudness of your voice actually causes him to take a step back. He weighs his options before ultimately skulking away.
"Are you alright, your grace?" A guard quickly rounds the corner to check on you.
"Have the guards doubled around our wing of the castle. By no means is Euron allowed here. If he is, then I insist on corporeal punishment."
Thank the gods Euron kept relatively quiet for the following days. Not a peep or sighting of him. You'd told Theon of your encounter with him. The treasonous things he said. He took it all in good humor, annoyingly so.
"He's just jealous." Theon nuzzles his nose against the warmth of your throat. Both of you were taking a break from honing your swordsmanship. Your sweat didn't bother him. In fact it appeared to entice him to lick a long line at your throat. "Jealous that you're all mine."
You blow out an exasperated puff of air. "Of course I am. That should be of no debate." The two of you are seated on a lone, grassy cliff that overlooks the tops of Pyke Castle. You enjoyed watching the busy port, the many sea vessels that were drifting upon the waves.
You didn't expect for your brother to take Euron's advances seriously.
He'd have to do something though once rumors from the taverns started to reach the castle.
Asha brought you the upsetting gossip which stemmed from your uncle. It was well recorded from many people how Euron would fall into his cups and talk of nothing but killing not just you, but Theon himself. He spoke openly of the kinslaying/regicide as if he were the better candidate to sit the salt throne.
There was a reason Asha came to you hesitantly. She knew what would happen once she told you that Euron had outright threatened Theon.
You couldn't let him live. Not after that. He could have just said he'd kill you. The moment he said he'd kill Theon you'd already made up your mind that you would take the situation into your own hands.
"Gather everyone in the castle to the bailey. Make sure Theon and Euron are in attendance." The coldness in your eyes could make any weather worn warrior tremble in front of you.
Asha actually smiles at the prospect of seeing this side of her sister released to the open. "Of course. I'll get right on it."
You listen to her walk away, your focus still on the sword behind the case you kept it in. Your sword.
--
When you challenge you uncle in front all of the household, all Euron does is bark out a laugh that has him rocking on his feet.
"You're joking, of course you must be joking." One arm is pressed against his stomach as another laugh wheezes out of him. When he finds everyone else with a sober face, he straightens up. Unwilling to let his condescending smile fall. Others were serious about this, awaiting his answer.
Behind you, Theon hisses out a desperate whisper "What are you doing?"
You're still staring at Euron. "He's been boasting about killing you. I can't allow him to keep saying such things."
That was all Theon needed to hear. He recognized the tightening of your posture, a spine like iron. This wasn't his queen anymore. This was a mercenary. Someone entirely different from his sweet sister who loved honeycakes and playing with the kennelmaster's puppies when there was free time. You weren't you and yet this part had always been woven into your being.
The only ending for Euron now was a slow and painful death. No one threatened the life of your brother and got away with it.
Euron finally replies, his tone dripping with mockery. "I accept your challenge. But be warned, I am not one to be taken lightly. Even if you are queen and blood. Whatever happens to you, I will not be held accountable for."
As the duel begins, Euron lunges forward with swift, calculated strikes. His years of experience at sea granted him an uncanny balance and agility, making him a formidable opponent. That was well known knowledge. He was capable of holding up his own in a fight. He was fast, but there was no one in the known world who could match your almost dancer's grace, movements precise and deliberate. You didn't have to be physically intimidating and neither did your sword. Slender, sharp, and double-edged you deftly parry each of Euron's attacks, focus unwavering.
It didn't take long for Euron to realize the grave mistake he'd made by agreeing to fighting you. With a fluid grace that belied strength, you disarm Euron in a swift, unexpected maneuver, sending his sword clattering to the ground.
With his lone, blue eye, he stares at it. He doesn't even catch your voice telling your men to bind him and toss him into the dungeon to await the king and queen.
Their hands are not gentle.
Fists split his face open. Another thing Euron had underestimated was how much they loved their sovereigns.
At some point, Euron fell unconscious. He's slow to rouse awake, head lolling from shoulder to shoulder as he stirs. Pain explodes on every known surface of his body. They must have continued to beat him even as he passed out.
Moving his mouth, he finds a gag placed over it. Vaguely he was able to make out muffled voices.
"Good, you're up."
A sharp slap to his face was what truly wakes him up. He finds his eyepatch was removed. One black eye and one blue eye wildly gape at you and Theon.
"Your death has been voted on by not just ourselves, but the lords of the Iron Islands as well." Theon announces, his expression passive. "We will grant you a private execution to lessen your humiliation. However, there has been a special request. You have the honor of being executed by the very woman that made you look like a fool."
Euron was half-listening though, distracted by what you were doing behind Theon. Your hands are busy unlacing your bodice, letting free your breasts. His throat clenches at the sight. You weren't paying either men any of your attention as you went on to remove the rest of your cumbersome clothing, leaving you naked.
"But not before my queen and I demonstrate our. . . united front." Theon's lips curl when he catches on that his words fall on deaf ears. Euron was entirely consumed with watching you perch yourself on a chair he hadn't noticed before. The dip of your hips was hypnotizing.
Only when you're fully seated do you look at your uncle. Legs crossed and tits pushed forward, you were downright sinful just sitting there. A cruel smile on her pretty lips. "I like you a lot better like this, Uncle Euron. My king, you've wasted enough time on him. Why don't you come over here?" Syrupy sweet when you turn to your brother.
Theon turns his back on Euron. Happy to obey his queen's demands. There was nothing left to say to him.
Undoing the clasp of his fur cape, he lays it out at your feet like a rug. Watching his nephew undress would not be as nice as watching you. Theon's bare back was that of a grown man's, broad and muscled and covered in scars. A testament to the turbulent symphony of his tumultuous life. Inked verses of his existence, painted by the relentless hand of adversity. The little boy was gone. Dead.
This was the King of the Iron Islands.
You shift in your seat, pussy already throbbing with the need for Theon's cock to fill it. What a pretty cock he had too. A blossom pink bulb of a head that was supported by a long, weighty shaft. Just thinking about it had your cheeks warming and your breathing become shallow.
Euron muffles, attempting to pull free of his confines.
His struggle music to your ears. You bite your bottom lip, chewing on it as your hand creeps between your legs. "Yes, louder if you will." You wanted to remember Euron like this. Helpless, being a captive audience for you and Theon. You would drive the point into his head, as one would a nail in wood, that Theon life and being were your's. And you were possessive over your things to a dangerous degree. When someone threatened the safety and happiness of Theon, you took it personally. Who thought they had the authority to kill him? Only you did, but you would never.
Your slick already covered the insides of your upper thighs, dripping down onto your seat. The only thing to pull your focus away from Euron was Theon pulling down his breeches to reveal his swollen, feverish cock. Practically springing out and begging for your lips around it. The softness of his cloak cushions your knees as you slide off and in front of Theon. His hand lovingly brushes against the top of your head.
"I understand you in some degree, uncle." Theon's voice is raspy, your mouth opening and leaning forward to wrap around the bulbous tip of his dick. He lets you suckle for a moment before continuing "If she were not mine, I too would be driven to jealousy and perhaps want to kill whatever lucky man had the honor of sleeping next to her." His eyes rove over your face, a twitch to his cock at the hollowing of your cheeks and the bobbing of your head. Fingers tighten around the tresses that adorned the crown of your head. He slams his length all the way to the back of your throat, making you gag. Tears accumulate on your bottom lashes but you will your throat to relax. Expertly breathing through your nose as you take him. You could feel your throat bulge, barely able to contain his girth let alone allow it down your throat. Saliva dribbles out of the corner of your mouth. He face fucks you, each snap of his hips pulling out a gagging noise from you.
Obscene squelching emits from the velvety drag of his dick down your throat and along your tongue. Usually he enjoyed cumming in your mouth. Theon would have to restrain himself this time.
Sharply Theon's sharp canine tooth pierces the plump flesh of his lower lip as he uses all of his strength to yank you off of him. "Hands and knees, my love."
Maneuvering around him so that Euron could watch you position yourself in front of your king. Your ass raises high, exposing your puffy, wet pussy for Theon's gaze to feast on. He takes a moment to appreciate the work of messy art in front of him with a smug grin.
"To never know how it feels to fuck such a perfect pussy. . . I feel sorry for you." Flashing up to his uncle, Theon grabs the shaft of his cock and lined it up perfectly against your lower lips. You feel the blunt prodding as he makes small, experimental thrusts against you. A territorial growl rips from him that has your nipples hardening even more. "But you're lucky enough to witness this. For this to be the last thing you see before my queen severs your head from your neck."
Pulling back a margin, he propels his hips forward to fill you to the hilt. All you could do was pathetically grip at the fur pelt beneath you for any kind of stability. You let yourself be as loud as you want. Shamelessly so. Euron could see the whites of your eyes as Theon drilled into you with his cock. Your tits bounce with each snap of his hips. Skin on skin smacks together in a loud symphony that was accompanied by your high pitch cries and Theon's own sinful praises that he lavished upon your pussy.
Your upper body threatens to give out. "TH-Theon-" You rasp out between the slapping of his balls against your clit.
Reading your mind, he reaches under you and with a feather light finger starts to languidly stroke the hood of your clit; his thumb already toying with your swollen bead that could make you squirt if stimulated enough. Somehow he manages to lift you up without jostling you much so that your back was pressed against his bare chest. His hand holds your neck, the other going to support a thigh as he continues to fuck you. At least now you could see his cock impale you, breaking past your pussy lips and disappearing deep inside of you.
He feels your walls constrict at the new angle he was taking you from. Squeezing contractions that massaged his cock in the way that made him feel like he was but a wild beast, reduced to his baser instincts of simply rutting into you. Theon's vision grows blurry, his head hot.
When he feels you spasm around him, seizing up and squeezing the life out of his cock in your own euphoria, that's when Theon allowed himself to break. He shudders and grips you tightly against him. Teeth bite into your shoulder to help him ride out his orgasm.
You yourself feel light headed, delirious and almost forgetting where the two of you were. Everything around you melts into nothingness. There's just you and Theon, stuck together. His panting matching your own.
Theon's tender voice is barely audible in your ringing ears. There was something he was reminding you to do. Your faculties were shut down as you were slowly coming down.
Patiently chuckling, Theon kisses your cheek. "My love, we can continue this in our room. But there's something you need to do first."
That's right.
Euron's cheeks were flushed and there was a tent formed in his pants. You smirk thinking that he would die with a hard-on.
On wobbly legs, Theon helps you stabilize before handing you your sword.
More muffling comes from your uncle with each step you took toward him. Still naked and glowing with a light sheen of sweat.
He's offered no last words.
Your blade strikes fast and true, slicing past bone and cartilage; tearing arteries and veins so that his warm blood sprays onto your skin.
Thus was the fate of any man or woman who dared to think they could take your Theon away from you.
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Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Game of Thrones (TV), A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Theon Greyjoy/Robb Stark
Characters: Theon Greyjoy, Robb Stark
Additional Tags: Theon is a secret angel, Underage Drinking, Kissing, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Just bros being bros, Pining, Drunken Confessions, Falling in love with your best friend, theon has a lot of feelings
Summary:
Theon helps his drunken best friend home from a party, accidentally stumbling ass backwards into something he never expected.
#woah i havent posting in fucking forever#this one might suck i didn't do much editing#throbb#fanfiction#fanfic#asoiaf#theon greyjoy#robb stark#theon x robb#robb x theon#fluff#i might write a second part at some point but i also might not#ao3#lets hope this shows up in the tag#you never know with links#if it doesn't i'll just post it again
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Here to Help
A/N; Haven't written in ages!!! My first GoT piece... Kinda proud. This will be a two parter!
Summary; Y/N tries to rescue Sansa from a life she never wanted.
Characters; You, Sansa Stark, Myranda, Theon Greyjoy.
Words; 2.1K
Requested; Nah.
It was only common sense that the door would be locked. What with the many failed escape attempts and the sheer bliss of being able to keep someone against their will; It was slightly obvious that Ramsay would have the door locked. However, he had forgotten something very crucial. The door was left unattended with no one around to watch as his younger sister picked the lock with an embroidery needle.
Y/N Snow knelt in front of the door, her head against it as she listened to the sounds from within the lock. This wasn't the first lock she had picked and Y/N was almost certain it wouldn't be her last. The only difference between picking the lock on this door and all the others was that she wasn't trying to steal anything... Unless you call helping Sansa Stark escape from her brother's clutches stealing.
Being a bastard left Y/N with very little roles in her life. It wasn't as bad when she was little as she had Ramsay who was in the same boat. However, once their father had legitimized her brother, he had all but cast her into the shadows. One thing Ramsay and Roose forgot was Y/N's nature to do the right thing.
Which was why she was going to risk her life in order the help Sansa escape. She wasn't one to wait around and do nothing. However, she knew her brother better than anyone in Westeros. If she was to flee, he would track her down and drag her back kicking and screaming. Luckily for her, her plans were brought forward when Ramsay had left Winterfell.
The lock clicked causing a grin to spread on Y/N face as she stood fully and pushed the door open. Her grin was quickly washed off her face when she noticed Sansa stood before her, a cork screw in her hand looking just as shocked as she felt.
"It alright." Y/N muttered, holding her hands in front of her as she looked around to insure no one was watching. "I am here to help."
"Help?" Sansa questioned, trying her best to pretend she was confused. "What could I possibly need help with?"
Y/N sighed deeply, into the room and out of the doorway in order to remain unseen. "I know you do not wish to be here. I know you have been trying to leave for a while. This is the only chance you are going to get and I urge you to take it." She whispered harshly, holding her hand out. Sansa stared at Y/N with a slight raised brow. Y/N could clearly see the apprehension on her face and if she was being honest, she didn’t blame her. "Trust me... Please?”
Sansa slipped her hand into Y/N's and she nodded firmly. "I trust you."
Y/N was quick to send her a smile, grasping her hand tightly and pulling her from the room. She walked at a fast pace, preferring not to draw any attention to the pair by running. As she lead the way down the stairs, she pulled her hood up around her head in order to be more discrete, Sansa followed suit.
It struck Y/N harshly as she entered the courtyard with Sansa on how she was meant to get out of Winterfell without anyone paying them any mind. A quick glance towards the entrance gates told her that it wasn't an option.
She tugged on Sansa's hand in order to pull her closer. "Ramsay would not let me wonder the grounds. I need to know if there is another way out and I need to know now."
"Yes." Sansa muttered, frantically looking around as though she could feel every eye on her. "But I know them to be guarded."
Y/N swore under her breath as she took a look around as she noticed most of the men shouting and running around. As a soft snow flake landed on her cheek, a sudden idea popped into her head. She did a half turn and looked up at one of the highest towers Winterfell had to offer.
"This way." Y/N whispered, pulling Sansa along once more as the two entered the tower through a side door.
The spiral staircase looked as though it went on for ages and though she tried not to think about just how high up she was, she found it difficult to as she moved upwards step by step. Sansa's grip on Y/N's hand had tightened considerably. Y/N didn't know if it was from how cold it was or if she was genially scared.
"We need more men out front!"
Y/N stopped suddenly as she heard the frantic yells coming from above. Sansa forced herself to a stop in order to not knock her over as the two-looked upwards towards the stone steps. The frantic noise of shoes hitting the stone above them could be heard growing louder and louder.
As the men grew closer, Y/N's heart began to pick up speed. She had a sudden urge to hit herself for thinking her plan could ever work. However, she quickly reminded herself that she had all but forced Sansa to trust her. This wasn't just her at stake here.
"Quick! Quick!" Y/N whispered frantically, all but running but the steps towards the men as she noticed a door a few steps upwards.
She pushed it open, thankful to find it unlocked as she pulled Sansa harshly through it before closing it and leaned against the door. In a matter of seconds, she could hear the men pass the door and continue on down the stairs.
"This was a mistake." Y/N muttered to herself, breathing deeply through her nose as she looked towards Sansa. "This is not going to work."
"It has to work." Sansa said, stepping towards Y/N. "You have gotten me this far, we can do this together but only together."
Y/N stared at Sansa with a slight raise of her brow. She took in the words deeply as she looked beyond Sansa to see that the pair had come out onto a walkway beside one of the walls of Winterfell. If she had her bearing right, the pair were towards the back wall, far from the gate.
“Together... We can do this." Y/N said, a fierce nod leaving her as she grabbed Sansa's hand once more and pulled her off to the left.
"Where are we going, the gates are this way." Sansa frantically whispered as Y/N continued to pull her along.
”The gates are of no use to us if my brother and his army are coming back that way." Y/N muttered, turning a corner as she looked back at Sansa. "We cannot get out that way, we would be foolish to tr-"
"How right you are." Y/N could see the horror on Sansa's face as she looked over her shoulder. Y/N spun to face forward as her jaw began to lock. "Bastard... My Lady." Myranda greeted, an arrow loaded as she pointed it from Sansa to Y/N.
"Myranda." Y/N said, her voice dripping with hatred. "I'll advise you one to stand aside."
"I've come to escort the Lady of Winterfell back to her chambers." Myranda said with a huge smile on her face. "Her chambers that you have broken into."
"Do as she says, please." Theon muttered from behind Myranda.
Y/N looked from Theon to Myranda to Sansa and back to Theon. It took her barely any time to realize that Sansa had put her faith in to wrong person as Theon had clearly been the one to rat her out to Myranda.
"If my knowledge is correct, Myranda," Y/N began, placing herself in front of Sansa as she narrowed her eyes at the girl. "A Lady is higher than a common whore. The Lady of Winterfell wants to leave with me and my brothers whore will not stop us."
"True you are, Y/N. However, a common whore, as you so kindly put it is still higher than a bastard." Myranda said, pointing her arrow at Y/N chest as she took a step forward. "You can leave, I'd like to see how long it takes for Ramsay to hunt you down. The Lady is staying."
"Sansa is not stupid." Y/N said, raising a brow as she pointed off towards the gate. "She knows what Ramsay is, what he'll do to her."
Myranda's smile didn't falter. She merely pointed her arrow over her shoulder at Sansa before pointing it back at Y/N chest. The air was silent as the four of them stood mere feet apart. Theon continued to stare at the ground.
"If I'm going to die," Sansa spoke up, her voice drifting through the air. "Let it happen while there's still some of me left."
Myranda's eyes widened slightly, a small grin over taking her face as she forced it back. "Die?" She lowered her bow, fixing her gaze at Sansa. "Who said anything about dying? You can't die. Your father was Warden of the North. Ramsay needs you."
Y/N heard the slight gasp in her ear as Sansa gripped her hand tightly, the fear seeping from her. Though she knew of Ramsay's goals, it was scary to hear it being spoken of out loud.
"Though I suppose he doesn't need all of you." Myranda continued, raising her bow once again as Y/N tried to keep her body in front of Sansa. It proved difficult, however, because Sansa was slightly taller than her. "Just the parts he'll use to make his heir, until you've given him a boy or two and he's finished using them."
"Do you honestly think Ramsay will keep you around for much longer?" Y/N asked, watching cautiously as Myranda's gaze never once left Sansa's form. "Because no matter what you think, I may be a bastard, but he still values me much more than you. Blood's still blood."
Whether it be from anger or sheer annoyance, Myranda moved her hand more firmly over the bow as she went to release the arrow. Y/N squeezed her eyes tightly as she heard the arrow being released. Her eyes snapped open, however, when she heard Myranda's yell of shock. "Reek- Stop!"
Y/N took a glance behind her and Sansa who was also looking behind her at the arrow which now lay on the floor mere inches from the pair. Another yell brought Y/N out of her trance as she snapped her eyes towards Theon who was looking over the wooden planks.
She followed his gaze and winced as she heard Myranda's body hit the cold stone floor a good few feet down. Y/N noticed the blood beginning to gather around Myranda as she took a glance around, insuring no one had seen.
Y/N was stood between Theon and Sansa as the three of them stared at Myranda's body in both shock and slight disgust. A few moments passed before the three were brought out of there trances as a horn was blown loudly from one of the watch towers. "Open the gate!"
"He's coming back." Y/N whispered, grabbing Sansa's hand once again and pulling her from the ledge. "Are you coming?" She shot as Theon who stared blankly at her before looking towards the gate and nodding frantically.
"How are we going to get out?" Sansa asked, loudly.
"We go over!" Y/N yelled back, releasing her hand as she climbed up onto the wall and stood on the very top.
"We won't survive!" Sansa said, climbing up beside her as she looked over the wall. "The drop is too high!"
"The snow is thick!" Y/N said, grabbing her hand once more as she held her other out to Theon who followed the two's steps and climbed up beside her. "It's our only choice... Try to jump further out, we won't hit the wall that way!"
Y/N squeezed the pairs hands tightly as she took a last glance behind her before pushing herself from the wall, feeling Theon and Sansa follow her lead.
PART TWO
#game of thrones#game of thrones preferences#game of thrones imagine#sansa stark imagine#theon greyjoy imagine#theon greyjoy#sansa stark#winterfell#you#imagine#preference#got#thrones#game#of#sansa stark preference#theon greyjoy preference#sansa stark x reader#theon greyjoy x reader#game of thrones fanfic#imagines#two parts#ramsay x sisterreader#ramsay x sister#bastard sister#bastard bolton#Bolton bastard#bolton#ramsay bolton#ramsay bolton imagine
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Today I decided to translate a slightly longer scene from my fanfic, in which Theon breaks down for the first time about sexuality, after what happened to him at Ramsay's. I'm very sorry if there are any translation errors here, but unfortunately English is not my mother tongue. Knowledge of the rest of the fiction is not necessary, but the relevant fact here is that Theon has a problem with compulsive washing, for which he happens to use a wire brush because he feels dirty all the time just like Reek. In this scene Theon and Lysandra have just arrived at Pyke and are bathing in the tub after their journey ^^
Words: 3569
Ship: Theon Greyjoy x oc
Type: sensual, lovely, erotic, sweet, more feelings, more love, break down sexual trauma
•YOU DESERVE FOR THE BEST OF EVERYTHING•
She looked at him from under her long, dark lashes, capturing his face in one of her hands.
- I wish you could look at yourself through my eyes. - she said, at which he smiled gently.
- I wonder who I would see in my place with them. With such beautiful eyes, do you see people more perfect than they really are?
Lys shook her head negatively. Instead of answering, she hugged him again, in sudden need of affection.
- I don't need to perfect you Theon. - She said after a long moment, snuggled tightly into his body.
- I don't know what I did to deserve you.
He kissed her forehead, his hand gently trailing along her waist. He realized how much he had missed Lys' sweet closeness all day. The warmth of her body, the shining gaze she used to grace only him with. The way she used to cuddle with him. So greedily, as if it would be the last pleasure she would have before she died. Not wanting to let her out of his embrace even for a moment.
- Will you bathe with me? - He heard the words from his own lips before he could censor his thoughts.
He saw the surprise on her face, which instantly turned into a kind, innocent smile. He had no way of knowing what she thought of the subject, and it bothered him a tad. He did not know if it was a good idea, but the need of closeness turned out to be stronger than common sense.
- Yhm," she murmured quietly, slipping the vest off his shoulders and then her fingers went to the buttons of the vamp right below his neck.
Lys occasionally undressed him, but usually only outerwear, but he never let her do it completely. He too, though he had undressed many ladies in the past, felt as if he was doing it for the first time in his life. His hands, though mutilated, deftly unfastened the hooks of her gown, gliding over the soft, cool skin beneath. Touching her was fascinating. He did it carefully and uncertainly, trying to remain neutral in all of this. In the twilight of the lamps, he couldn't see much detail that didn't escape him amidst the daylight. When he looked at Lys, it was a little annoying, but relating that fact to himself, he felt a little more confident because of it.
He was the first to strip her of her underwear. He analyzed every bit of the outline of her figure, subtly lit by the lamps. She was still very petite, though tall. And in Theon's eyes she suddenly seemed particularly delicate. So much so that she should be touched carefully like porcelain. That was how he handled her, too. He sank one hand into her hair, combing through it in slow motions, and drew the other toward him. He didn't like the way his body reacted to her closeness. He was beginning to feel more and more insecure, which was turning into a desire to withdraw. He trembled as she slid the last piece of clothing off him. Her fingers slid around his loins, and he felt extremely insecure at that moment. He didn't understand how he could have allowed himself to be naked in front of a woman when he was mutilated like this. He lowered his gaze, glad that Lys was shielding him with her own body. The contact with her skin was incredible. How pleasurable it was to feel her all over him. She clung to him with almost every millimeter, trembling softly, covered in goosebumps. He had no idea if it was caused by the cold or his touch, but Theon dared to guess that it might have been the latter, which on the one hand seemed to be arousing, but on the other it was unsettling.
- Let's get in that tub already. - He said calmly, breaking the tension. - I feel dirty. - He added, looking at the stool on which the servants had placed various oils, soap and clean towels.
- I will wash you. - she said into his ear, then giggled softly.
The water was still hot to the point of scalding, but it was pleasant in its own way. Especially in contrast to the coldness of the chamber. Lys sat down in front of him, her arms around his knees that were sticking out of the water.
-I must tell you something, Theon. - she announced with a look of innocence and sparkling eyes.
He smiled, though without knowing why the words troubled him. He wrinkled his eyebrows a bit in a questioning expression.
- What's that?
- Don't be mad at me, but... I blew your brush.
There was a silence, during which only the sea and the splash of the bath water could be heard.
- The wire one? - he made sure.
Lys nodded slowly and a suppressed smile appeared on her lips.
- Where did you dump it? - He asked in a suspiciously calm tone.
- 'Into the sea... But, Theon... No normal person washes themselves with a wire brush. I couldn't look at it. You were hurting yourself! - she was fighting back.
- How am I supposed to wash myself clean now? - he asked with barely audible reproach in his voice.
Under the water she found his hand, squeezing it gently.
- I said I would wash you. - She smiled apologetically. - Clean.
- You would have done better with a brush...
- 'Theon, please stop with the bloody brush... Are you tired of flaying?
She rolled her eyes in exasperation, and Theon giggled defensively at the mention of skinning.
- All right... - he agreed uncertainly. - But I'll wash you first. Also clean.
- Can you wash without a wire brush? - she asked with a sneer, causing him to splash water in her eyes.
He grabbed her so that she was forced to turn her back to him and then gently pulled her towards him.
- Come here to me you mouthy girl. - his voice trembled as his body reacted as before, moved by her proximity.
It was a strange and unsettling feeling to say the least. It was incomparable to anything else. Something similar often accompanied him when he held her in his arms in the evening before going to sleep. He would look at her and a desire would arise in his body, which would fade when he remembered that he was not a complete man, ready to please her as he should. Theoretically he could please her in many different ways, but she had shown no interest in that direction for a very long time. Subconsciously Theon was very afraid that someone, especially the bastard Bolton, could take advantage of her. The very thought of it caused him pain. They talked about many things, but never returned to what had taken place at the Dreadfort. It was easier for both of them.
At first Theon washed her hair and when he rubbed the fragrant oil into it he let Lys lean against him. He could feel her again, which made him a little dizzy. The blood was pulsing more and more intensely where his manhood should be and this time he couldn't stop it in any way.
- I think I can do without that brush. - He said into her ear, then kissed her a little lower.
His hands trembled as he spread the soap over her delicate skin. It was so soft and nice to the touch, which Lys responded to in a particularly lovely but also unmistakable way. He could feel her tense up, under his hands. She tilted her head back, resting it on his collarbone. He washed her carefully and thoroughly. He knew that in the meantime he was tenderly kissing her neck, not helping his control one bit. He couldn't do otherwise, though. He didn't want to stop kissing her, seeing how pleasurable it was for her. When one of his hands slid between her legs and she squealed softly, he was sure the avalanche had started. He realized there was no point in fighting it.
- I... would like to bathe you too. - Lys announced in a trembling voice, turning towards him.
She melted a large amount of soap on her hands, which she then began to rub into his already damp hair with careful movements of her trembling hands. She touched him conservatively, but still, when he felt her hands on him, it paralyzed him for a moment. He felt more confident when he was the one touching her.
- Am I doing something wrong? - she asked carefully, taking his face in her hands. - Please tell me if you are.
- N... no, honey. I'm the one with the problem.
- How can I help you overcome it?
- I don't know... - he replied. - Kiss me.
Lys pressed her lips to his lips placing a kiss on them as gentle as possible. He returned it a little more greedily. She didn't stop at one. She kissed him so relentlessly and everywhere she could, feeling his body give in to it demanding more.
Every touch, even the smallest, still remained innocent and safe. Kisses so subtle, yet fierce at the same time. In the past, Theon had already made love to girls who kissed like this. They were usually young and inexperienced. And in their innocent awkwardness so greedy and thirsty for pleasure.
- You see, Theon...- she spoke to him in a whisper, her hand spreading the soap over his body with incredible gentleness. - Am I not nicer to the touch than a wire brush? - her voice trembled as he responded with a quiet hiss, feeling Lys' hand on the inside of his thigh.
For the first time, Theon did not object. Like a blind man who, having lost his sight, sharpens his other senses, Theon's body became unmercifully sensitive to any kind of touch in that area. He could no longer defend himself. Not at a time like this. He needed her touch so desperately that if she had wanted to leave that tub at that moment, he would have begged her to stay. He couldn't suppress that desire, which was consuming Lys as much as it was consuming him.
- You are...," he answered her through clenched teeth.
Her breathing quickened. He felt its pleasant warmth on his skin. He kissed her lips, biting them gently. He moved his hand along the indentation of her waist, at the same time signaling for her to move even closer, so that there was hardly any space separating them anymore. Lys trembled under his touch, which suddenly seemed bolder and more forceful, while still remaining just as gentle. Her hands remained dangerously close, but this time he couldn't think of anything other than the pleasure coming from it. The reactions of her body were not helping his sanity. Every time his hands traveled over her skin, spreading the soap, she bit her lip, stifling a moan that could have been a plea for more. She submitted to his kisses, sweetly tilting her head back. Caution was as obvious an element in all of this as it was the one that most stimulated her senses.
Her hands slid over grotesque scars, over burned and peeled skin, but to Theon it was not uncomfortable. Most importantly, it no longer hurt. Not that it had ever hurt him with her, for Lys' touch had always been safe and pleasant. Theon remembered as if through a haze the moment when he was like one healing wound, and every action he performed caused him pain. Then she would come and simply hold his hand. Carefully and avoiding the wounds, she would run her fingers over it, and it was the only nice feeling his bruised body allowed him at the time.
Each of the scars broke Lys' heart, but not a single one made her feel like looking away. They were part of him. Her Theon, whom she loved regardless of everything else. And though he usually hid them so tightly under his clothes, he couldn't make them disappear, but to Lysandra it never mattered. There was no thing in the world that could make her stop looking at him through the lens of love.
She could feel them all under her fingers. The rough surface of the letters and the dark places where skin was slowly growing back welcomed her kisses as much as the smooth skin somewhere next to them. And he responded to them all in a way that she didn't want to interrupt for anything in the world. He closed his eyes, muffled every moan and sigh, sometimes even at her lips, which he parted with his own tongue.
- I love you Lys. - He spoke quietly to her, capturing her face with his hands. -I love you as I have never loved anyone before.
Her eyes sparkled, and in the faint light of a few candles, the pupils almost completely took over the blue color of the irises. She kissed him right on the lips and then somewhere below his jawline.
- It's just like me to you, Theon. -she answered directly into his ear. - I love the most in the whole world.
- I love you and you love me. - He said, and a smile appeared on his lips.
- And I want you, Theon. - she said softly into his mouth. - Very, very much. The most in the world.
As she spoke her voice trembled. Theon knew that feeling his hand slide down her hipbones, she couldn't have reacted any other way.
And he wanted her, and that overshadowed any inhibitions. They had reached a breaking point from which there was no turning back. It was no longer possible to hold back the overwhelming need they had at that moment for intimacy and the fulfillment that came from it.
It wasn't long before they were out of the tub and onto the bed. This part of the chamber was darkened, the lamps were out and the only source of light came through the window from the moon.
After coming out of the hot bath, they felt unpleasantly cold, but they protected themselves from it by entwining their bodies tightly to each other in the bedclothes.
As if by accident, her thigh rubbed against the mutilated spot where his manhood had once been.
He could already feel the blood rushing in there, but now he couldn't hold back a loud sigh of pleasure.
He didn't think much of it when his hand imperceptibly found its way between her legs, gently parting her thighs. Her body reacted instantly. Her back arched, her lips parted slightly.
- Theon...
She moaned softly and he kissed her on the lips. As he watched her yield to his touch, he couldn't forgive himself for denying her this for so many months.
At the same time, he could feel her cool fingers still oscillating around the spot between his legs, contrasting with his inflamed skin. He could feel it all over him. The tension that was taking away his senses. While he touched her more and more boldly, Lys still remained cautious. He knew she wanted to give him fulfillment, but she didn't want to hurt him in the process. He didn't want that himself either. He didn't want her to touch him. She could do it anywhere but there. But when she finally asked, he couldn't refuse her in any way.
After all, she loved him, and he loved her and placed boundless trust in her. Her touch was always safe, and she craved it as no one had ever craved it. She kissed him and he kissed her, but when he felt her hand there he froze, biting his lip.
He hadn't known a similar feeling before, where pleasure was so easily combined with humiliation, but it was... remarkably pleasant. So pleasurable, in fact, that his body almost absorbed every, even the slightest touch of her fingers.
- Hey, easy, my love... - she whispered to him. - I just want you to feel good...
The expression on her face was dreamy, her voice still trembling, which was probably caused by what he was doing to her with his fingers.
- It feels good to me... - he said in a whisper that turned into a quiet moan.
Theon wouldn't be able to fool her. His body spoke for itself. Soon it relaxed, allowing him to respond as he desired. He intertwined his free hand with Lys's palm, occasionally squeezing it a little too tightly.
- I love you, Theon. - She whispered into his ear, biting it gently, which sent a nice, even more exciting shiver through him.
- I love you too. - He replied in one breath, between the kisses he lavished on her neck. - I love so much...
Everything about her was so damn sweet. Every moan, every tense of her body, as well as the warmth beating from it, the moist lips on his skin... And most of all, what she was doing to him with her hands. At times it seemed to him that he couldn't stand the feeling any longer. He couldn't get used to it, but at the same time, he didn't want anything more. His body could no longer fight the pleasure he was giving in to, melting under her touch.
He could see that Lys was close. She closed her eyes, parted her lips, which his own tongue greedily traced around. She arched her back with a quiet moan, while he felt the spasms on his fingers digging into her testifying that she was just reaching fulfillment. He did not stop the caress and continued to move them gently and steadily, allowing his lover to enjoy the pleasure of his touch for as long as possible. It was an experience so wonderful that a smile came to his face as he looked at her. With the sweetest voice in the world, Lys kept repeating his name and many other phrases that disappeared somewhere in between their rapid, greedy breaths.
-My... The most wonderful...
Under the influence of the pleasure, her touch became different as well... Or maybe it was the whole situation that influenced him so that he completely lost control. Not a fraction of a second passed and he felt that he could not stand it any longer. He felt as if a fire was circulating inside him, which accumulated somewhere in the area of his lower abdomen, and he could not hold it any longer. It was as pleasant as it was embarrassing. Theon hid his head in Lys's arms, most simply seeking the support of her closeness the moment he was finally about to cross that line... Once he knew he was about to, his hand reacted involuntarily, trying to knock Lys's hand away, but they both knew it was only passive resistance.
- Theon please...just a little more. - she spoke to him quietly and with emotion. - Please, my love please let me please you, let me please you...
He couldn't refuse her. He couldn't resist the way she was asking him. If not for himself then at least for her. Theon let go, and it wasn't long before he felt a wave of delightful warmth and fulfillment spread through his body. Something jerked him so that he was forced to bend in a short spasm, and a loud hiss escaped his lips. He came, coating her hand with semen, which she played with for a second in fascination, spreading it between her fingers, before carelessly wiping it off with her handkerchief. When she wiped it off it was also pleasurable, though he himself at that moment didn't know whether he should rejoice or cry. He bestowed a smile on Lys, in response to the one she too sent his way. He laughed, with joy and relief, but at the same time somewhat hysterically.
-Smile... - Lys giggled.
She touched his face tenderly and then kissed him on the lips extremely gently. He returned the kiss, feeling that everything in him was already beginning to tremble.
Before Lys could tear her lips away from his, the first tears flowed. This was too much for Theon. All these feelings overwhelmed him so much that he felt helpless against them. It felt so good, so pleasurable... And above all, his woman proved to him that it was still possible to satisfy him, and most importantly, that he was capable of satisfying her as well. Theoretically everything should be fine. Theoretically there was not the slightest reason for tears, nevertheless they still flowed along his cheeks. He held them up, but to no avail, and saw the look of concern on Lys' face.
- I'm sorry... I'm sorry... It was nice... But, but...
She just hugged him. Strongly but at the same time tenderly and gently, sinking her hand into his hair, which she stroked with slow movements.
- I know, I know, my love... - she whispered to him with love even breaking through her tone of voice. - If you feel you need to cry, cry... I just want you to know that you don't need to apologize... And... and that I am proud of you. You deserve the best of everything. I love you, Theon. I love you the most in the world.
She wiped away his tears with kisses. Every word she said was so soothing, as if by saying them all she was wrapping him in warmth that would protect him from his doomed feelings. Still, in saying it, she cried too.
#theon greyjoy#theonmonth2022#asoiaf#game of thrones#asoiaf fandom events#fanfic#house greyjoy#my fic#asoiaf fanfiction#theonxoc#lovely#lovecore#softcore
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⚖️🌟Libra’s Masterlists🌟⚖️
🐺Game of Thrones🦁
(OUTDATED as of 2023, still working on it! Search character tags for more recent stuff!)
🎀Imagines & Preferences🎀
How They Dance With You
How They Comfort You During a Panic Attack
How They Get Jealous
How They Kiss You
How They Confess To You
How They Cuddle With You
How They React To Your Kidnapping
How They React To Your Scars
How They React To Your Pregnancy
How They React To You Saving Their Lives
How They Comfort You Before Your Arranged Marriage
How They React To You Walking In On Them
How They React To Your Massages
How You’d Spend Your First Night With Them
How They React To An Overly Affectionate S/O
How They React To You Being an Artist
How They Propose To You
How They React To You Flirting With Them
When You’re Engaged to Someone Else
Dating Them in Modern Times
Love Letters & Handwriting
You Being a Widow and Having a Child
Their S/O Being an Unassuming yet Ruthless Lady
Imagine Being the Childhood Friend of Robb, Jon and Theon
Imagine Being Sister to the Baratheon Brothers
Imagine Being a Lannister in a Sandor + Bronn Love Triangle
Imagine Adopting a Direwolf Pup with Sandor
Fighting Alongside the GoT Characters & They Realize You’re a Woman’
When They Realize They’re In Love With You
Their Partner Having Heterochromia
Being Robert’s Oldest Daughter
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🎀Fanfics🎀
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Salt & Snow - Slow-burn + Childhood Friends - Ned Stark x Reader - Chapter 1✨Chapter 2 ✨ Chapter 3 ✨ Chapter 4 ✨ Chapter 5 ✨Chapter 6 ✨Chapter 7✨Chapter 8 ✨Chapter 9
Sand & Storms - Slow-burn + Childhood Friends - Stannis Baratheon x Martell!Reader - Chapter 1 ✨Chapter 2
🎀Interactive Fiction🎀 - Stannis Baratheon, Ned Stark, Ashara Dayne. Customize your main character - looks, house, personality! - and fall in love while trying not to die horribly in King’s Landing.
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#masterlist#rdr2 x reader#peaky blinders x reader#game of thrones x reader#got x reader#rdr2 imagines#peaky blinders imagines#got imagines#band of brothers x reader#band of brothers imagines#the boys x reader#the boys imagines
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fic: bad blood and burned castles
title: Bad Blood and Burned Castles
recipient: @cafeleningrad
characters/pairings: Theon/Domeric Bolton, Ramsay Bolton, Kyra, Roose Bolton, Barbrey Dustin, Original Character, Alannys Greyjoy, Asha Greyjoy, Robb Stark
rating: R
warnings: past abuse, angst, character death (but that guy won’t be missed)
original prompt: Theon Greyjoy finds a place he can call home (you did say any place)
summary: Domeric Bolton returns to his childhood home to find nothing as he expected. Theon can relate.
a/n: I'm sorry this wretched thing is so long I got kind of carried away and there's tons of characters that weren't in the prompt and one i had to make up which i know is bad and wrong but there wasn't a canon one who fit my needs i hope you enjoy it anyway
ao3/external link: here!
#theon greyjoy#domeric bolton#theonexchange#themeric#(??? sorry the mod has no idea of the shipname for these two pls notify if you know)#type: fanfic#ship: theon x domeric#tw: past abuse
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