cw: mdni ( 18 + ) young adult au, both are of age, fem!reader, suggestive, established relationship, pet names, teasing, strength kink, arm kink, biceps,manhandling, playful headlock, biting, dirty thoughts, reader is down horrendous
a/n: based on these two requests and i totally see the chuck bass similarities now..no wonder iโm so obsessed with him. i miss chuck.
max always wore long sleeves and coats before, keeping that mysterious vibe, but on that scorching summer day he ditched them for a simple t-shirt. the second you spotted those defined biceps and veiny forearms, your jaw dropped. be caught you staring and just smirked like he knew exactly what he was doing
you couldnโt resist pressing your cheek against his arm the first time you saw him like that. max chuckled low in his throat, flexing just a little so you could feel the muscle shift under your skin. โdidnโt know my arms were that interesting, sweetheart,โ he teased, voice dripping with playful arrogance
max has started flexing on purpose when he feels your face against his arm. the muscle swells under your skin and he reaches over with his free hand to gently squish your cheeks together, making your lips pout while he watches with that smug little grin. โlook at you, princessโ he teases
he started wearing short sleeves on purpose after that. every time you clung to him, squeezing and rubbing your face against his bicep like it was your favourite pillow, max would tilt his head and ask if you needed a minute or if you were planning to stay attached all day
max loves catching you off guard. heโll suddenly lift his arm and rest it on top of your head like an armrest, your cheek still glued to his bicep. โcomfy?โ he asks, all fake innocence while you blush and nod
max loves the attention. heโll casually stretch or roll his shoulders just to watch your eyes follow the movement. when you get all flustered and try to play it cool, he leans down and murmurs, โyouโre not subtle at all, you know that, princess ?โ
on lazy afternoons he lets you trace the veins on his forearms with your fingertip while he scrolls on his phone.he pretends to ignore it, but the tiny smirk on his lips gives him away every single time
max has this habit of ruffling your hair with one big hand after youโve been clinging to him the casual dominance of it always makes your stomach flip, and he knows it
your mind wanders constantly when youโre pressed against him. you imagine those strong hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave marks, or wrapping around your throat while he whispers filthy things in your ear about how obsessed you are with his strength
he loves manhandling you in private. one arm hooks around your waist and lifts you onto his lap like you weigh nothing. the other hand tilts your chin up so you have to look at him while he teases you for being so weak for him
sometimes he playfully puts you in a loose headlock, pulling you close against his chest while his lips brush your ear. โpay attention to me,โ he murmurs, voice low and rough, exactly the way your dirty thoughts predicted.
your mind drifts constantly when your cheek is against his forearm. you picture those same muscles flexing while he pins your wrists above your head, or while one big hand covers your mouth to keep you quiet. max notices the way your breathing changes and gives your face a little squeeze between his fingers, voice dropping. โwhat are you thinking about right now, hm?โ
youโve started playfully biting his forearm when youโre feeling bold, teeth sinking in just enough to make him hiss through his teeth. maxโs eyes darken instantly.he flexes hard under your bite and mutters, โcareful, sweetheart. keep that up and Iโll give you something bigger to sink your teeth into.โ
he gets off on how small your hands look when you try to wrap them around his forearm. heโll guide your fingers over his muscles and ask if youโre imagining them holding you down or spreading you open
max has a thing for making you admit how much you love his arms. heโll have you straddle his thigh, one hand gripping the back of your neck, and wonโt let you move until you tell him exactly what you want those hands to do to you
MASTERLIST
taglist: @userhotd @marlsvii @casey1-2007 @moonlightbookworm @sluttyall4youdada @gabbiskylar01 @long-summer-nights ( let me know if you wanna be added or removed ๐ค )
House of the Dragon: Gwayne Hightower x Targ!readerย
Rating: Explicit (Minors DNI)
WC: 2.6 kย
Prompt: First and Last Touch for @sweetspicybingo (Beginnings Bingo Masterlist)
Tags/Warnings: Modern AU, Team Neutral (everyone is one big happy family), outdoor sex, teasing, public nudity, overstimulation, budding romance, reader is Rhaenyraโs younger sister
Summary: Things heat up during the summer, leading you straight into Gwayneโs arms
The cachaรงa from the caipirinhas was slowly going to your head. It was sweet and crisp, with just a hint of tang from the lime, and it was refreshing as you lounged by the pool. You could have spent all afternoon sucking them down, but you had the foresight to cut yourself off at three and stick to water after. Even among the wealthy, no one enjoyed drunken messiness, not in public anyway. Your nephew Jace and half-brother Aegon were having a cannonball contest, and Aegon was currently winning. The latest splash cascaded all over you, drenching your bare skin and hot pink one piece.
โSorry!โ Aegon laughed after popping up out of the water.
โSorry, Auntie,โ little Jace chirped, and at least he looked chagrined enough that you could forgive him. Meanwhile, you sent your brother an annoyed look.
โItโs fine, the risk of lounging by the pool,โ you smiled, standing up to stretch and pondering wading into the shallow end. You were already wet, so you might as well enjoy the shimmering cerulean water. Before you did, you made sure the little ones were properly coated in sunscreen. No one would suffer sunburn under your watch.
Aemond alternated, tossing Helaena, Baela, Rhaena, Luke, and Daeron into the deep end as they competed to see who could swim to the top of the water the fastest. You swam over to them, resting your arms against the side of the pool.
โDo you want me to take over for a bit?โ you offered Aemond, wanting the young boy to enjoy some time to himself.
โNoooo, he throws better than you,โ Luke protested.
โOuch!โ you feigned, pressing your hand against your chest.
โIโm good,โ the twelve year old smiled.
You nodded before swimming across the deep end, doing a couple of laps and being careful to avoid the bodies.
โMum says Uncle Gwayne is competing in the Grand Prix tomorrow,โ you overheard Aegon telling Jace. You hadnโt seen Gwayne in a few years, back when you were still attending boarding school, and it had been the annual Targaryen Christmas Party and he looked ridiculous yet endearing in a floppy Santa hat.
โSo is my Dad! And Uncle Daemon is too!โ Jace said happily.
โShould be fun to watch them neck it out,โ Aegon grinned as you got out of the pool and dried off a bit.
โSorry, thank you for keeping an eye on everyone,โ your eldest sister, Rhaenyra, chattered as she came out of the summer house. Harwin followed behind her, jumping into the pool. Soon, the kids, including Aemond, were climbing all over him.
โNot a problem, no one got injured. I hear itโs going to be a family affair at the Grand Prix tomorrow?โ
โYeah, should be fun,โ Rhaenyra smiled.
~~
The next morning, it was off to the races at The Lionโs Gate track. The twins held your hand until they saw their father and took off towards him. Wearing a red jumpsuit with black stripes, Daemon knelt to scoop Baela and Rhaena into his arms. Laena rushed over with a dreamy look in her eyes, silver hair styled into an elegant bun, and got herself a kiss. Rhaenyra and her boys made their way over to Harwin, who looked dashing in his blue jumpsuit, but you found yourself following behind your half-siblings as they beeline toward Gwayne. Your father and stepmother were seated in the airconditioned suite, and you envied them as sweat beaded down your neck.
You stood back for a moment, watching your half-siblings fawn over their Uncle, and you found yourself captured by Gwayneโs dazzling smile, his shaggy, fiery red hair billowing in the cool breeze kicking up. One that you were thankful for as the heat pulsated through your body. Daeron sprinted over and tugged you toward Gwayne as your feet moved of their own accord. Gwayne let out an amused laugh as his eyes roamed over you. You suddenly felt self-conscious in your rose-printed sundress.
โItโs good to see you. Itโs been so long,โ he smiled, leaning in to brush his lips over your cheek in a feathery welcomed gesture. His body was long and lean in the green jumpsuit that complimented his auburn hair and dark eyes.
โYeah, it has,โ you whispered, becoming lost in his golden eyes.
โNow, between us, Iโm hoping youโll be routing for me today,โ he teased, his hand skimming lightly over your hip. The simple touch was enough to make your body feel engulfed in flames and thrusting for more.
โIf you keep it a secret, wouldnโt want the others to feel hurt over it,โ you grinned, fluttering your lashes.
โItโs a deal,โ he whispered in your ear.
Gwanyeโs touch lingered on your skin as everyone returned to the luxury suite to enjoy the race. You sat closest to the glass window, watching the cars arrange into their positions on the starting line. It was a luxurious collection of pristine sports cars, and your heart pounded in your chest when you spotted the painting green flames swirling over the sides of the matte black LaFerrari. Your eyes were glued to it the entire 200 laps. Adrenaline pounded in your chest as Hawin, Daemon, and Gwayne were neck and neck along with a fourth rider from the Marches, a new up and comer called Criston Cole. The boys and the twins were having a great time, hooting and hollering for their family members, while Helaena remained in her spot next to you, gripping your hand with widened lilac eyes.
โWho do you think is going to win?โ you leaned down to whisper in her ear, a conversation only heard between both of you.
She tilted her head, contemplating your answer. โThe one least expected,โ she whispered, a pensive look on her face, and you squeezed her hand in response.
You werenโt surprised when Criston Cole won, the kids groaning their disappointment before accepting the result.
โHis car was really cool,โ Jace said.
โHe picked up great speed in the final fifty,โ Aegon nodded.
โMaybe we can meet him?โ Aemond suggested.
โWe can congratulate him,โ the twins chorused.ย Daeron was asleep in Alicentโs lap.
โIโm sure that can be arranged,โ Rhaenyra smiled, and Laena nodded.
While the others were distracted by fawning over Criston Cole, with Harwin graciously shaking his hand, you made your way over to Gwayne. You glanced over at Rhaenyra on your way and the look in your eyes let you know you might be expecting another nephew in the near future.
โSorry that my vibes werenโt enough for you to win,โ you teased.
He shrugged his shoulders, a playful smile on his face. โItโs alright. At least I placed ahead of Daemon, so Iโll take the small wins.โ
โThatโs my uncle,โ you huffed, but the look on your face was pure teasing.
โWould you like to have dinner with me tonight?โ
Heat flooded your face. โIโd love that.โ
โGreat, pick you up at seven,โ he grinned, his lips searing against your cheek.
~~
โHelp, I donโt have anything to wear,โ you bristled as you entered your sisterโs room in your underwear. At least those were black, satin, and matching.
Alicent blinked her eyes, and Rhaenyra covered her mouth to keep from spilling into laughter.
โSorry, I didnโt know you were in here,โ you sighed.
โItโs alright, nothing I havenโt seen before,โ Alicent quipped before giggling with Rhaenyra.
โWhere are you going?โ Rhaenyra asked.
โDinner with Gwayne,โ you replied, biting your lower lip as your stepmother and sister exchanged looks.
โLittle black dress,โ they said in unison, and Rhaenyra got up to procure it from her closet.
โHow do you not have a little black dress?โ Rhaenyra asked you, the ensemble dangling from the hanger in her hand.
โI didnโt think to bring it on a summer family vacation,โ you replied honestly.
โFair enough,โ she said, and you grasped the hanger. Rhaenyra was slightly taller than you; otherwise, it should fit pretty well. The two of you had been swapping clothes for a while. She dug out a pair of sleek black heels to wear with it and shoved them into your hands.
โBe sure to report to me if heโs anything other than a gentleman tonight,โ Alicent smiled, giving you a small hug.
โI will, thank you,โ you smiled before rushing off to get ready.
You slipped into the dress and shoes, fixing your makeup and hair afterward, careful that none of your setting powder dusted over the dress. You chose a bold red lip, arranged your hair in soft, alluring beach waves, and gave yourself a nod of approval before heading downstairs to wait for Gwayne. You were surprised to find him in the foyer chatting with your father. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in the sight of him in a sleek black suit that fitted his slender frame to a tee.
He looked so devastatingly handsome that your knees went weak, and Gwayneโs voice pulled you from your train of thought. โYou look stunning!โ
โThank you,โ you smiled, slipping your hand into his outstretched one.
โHave a wonderful time tonight, my dear,โ Viserys said, giving your free hand a soft squeeze before disappearing into his wing of the house.
Gwayne walked you to his car, his hand slipping to your lower back, the remnants of his touch from earlier that day flooding your senses, and helped you into the passenger seat. Woody notes of cedar, with just a hint of creamy vanilla and the earthy scent of leather, wafted under your nose, making you feel lightheaded during the drive to the restaurant in town. His hand lingered on your lower back once more as the impeccably dressed hostess guided you to a candlelit table at the back. Privacy was a luxury both could afford.
Warmth enveloped your neck and cheeks as smoked oysters were served, and your eyes were glued to Gwayne as he swallowed them gracefully. The wry smirk on his face indicated he knew exactly what he was doing. You squirmed in your chair, your dress suddenly feeling quite short as you reached for an oyster to savor. Four more delectable courses and a glass of white wine each followed as you found yourself in an easy conversation with him. You loved the way he made you laugh and the delightful way his mouth contorted when he smiled.
โMay I?โ he asked, lifting the spoon of chantilly cream toward your mouth.
โPlease,โ you whispered, leaning in closer as he slipped the spoon into your mouth. Your tongue lapped around the airy, lightly sweetened cream, closing your eyes as your lips wrapped around the spoon, fully aware of the picture you were creating. A few soft flutters of your lashes left a lingering effect as Gwayne looked flustered and flushed when you finished.
He paid the bill then whisked you off, waiting for the valet to pull his car around. You couldnโt resist throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him down into a fervid kiss. His hands slipped over your hips, then over the swell of your ass, squeezing your flesh and sucking the air right out of your lungs.ย You were jelly as he guided you back into the car. The wind whipped your cheeks and through your hair as he sped back to the summer house, and you were thankful for the brief respite that cooled you down.
You were drunk on lust, and Gwanye was matching your energy as the two of you stumbled through the back entrance of the house straight into the pool area. The dim lightening created a romantic, hazy atmosphere as his fingers undid the zipper of your dress, the fabric billowing around your feet as you popped open the buttons of his dress shirt, revealing a sliver of pale flesh. A warm, gentle breeze enveloped your bare skin, a soft caress counteracted by the heated strength of Gwayneโs mouth all over your neck and shoulders. Your underwear joined your dress, and the swell of Gwayneโs hardness pressed against your thigh.
You didnโt care about anything else at the moment except for having his cock inside of you, though you werenโt picky about where. You dropped to your knees, the concrete unforgiving beneath your delicate flesh as you wrapped your mouth around the tip of your cock. Gwayneโs moan bled into the ink-splotched night sky as his fingers tangled in your hair. Your warm mouth continued to pleasure him until he tugged sharply on your hair.
โIโm close, donโt wanna finish in your mouth,โ he murmured, his dark eyes blown wide with lust.
You pulled away, your mouth rosy and swollen, letting him guide you over to the outdoor bar. He lifted you onto the counter, fingers digging into your bare ass before it came into contact with the cool marble. It made you shiver, and you pulled his body flush against yours to warm up. A sloppy make-out session followed as the tip of his cock teased your damp folds before he finally slipped inside you. It was a delicious stretch, one that made your eyes and head loll back as your nails dug into his shoulder.
โFuck me, you are gorgeous when you come undone like this,โ he purred in your ear, his voice throaty and velvety.ย
โI like coming undone on your cock, been thinking about since the race,โ you admitted, angling your hips so he hit just the right spot inside of you.
His breath hitched before he snuggled his face against the curve of your neck, his teeth grazing over your skin as one hand found your bare breast. He massaged the flesh tenderly between his palm before pinching your nipple. You yelped softly, mostly from surprise, as you clenched around his cock.
โI canโt wake to take you fully apart, darling.โ
You mewled pathetically, then reached down to squeeze his plush ass, driving him deeper inside you.
โThereโll be time for that. Just make me come right now,โ you growled.
Gwayne obliged by picking up speed, slamming into you, and making your body shake and jerk. Each powerful thrust sent you closer and closer to the edge until the band finally snapped, and you soaked his cock.
โAbsolutely gorgeous,โ Gwayne panted, stroking your cheek with his curved knuckles before gently slipping out.
Your eyes flew open when his hand pressed between your slick thighs, two fingers circling over your overstimulated clit, but you didnโt want him to stop. Your lower lip wobbled as he brought you to a second release, his fingers coated in the messy aftermath. He lewdly suckled each finger clean, those dark eyes sparkling with mischief. You had found your match, and well, it seemed the Targaryens were destined to be attracted to Hightowers. He grabbed a couple of fresh towels placed in the hamper by the cabana and gently cleaned each of you up.
โYouโre welcome to crash with me tonight,โ you smiled as the two of you redressed.
โI would love that. I tend to be snuggly after sex,โ he grinned, a lock of auburn hair falling in front of his face.
โSounds perfect,โ you grinned, taking his hand and leading him inside, where the two of you stripped down again and curled together while sleeping. His hand found its way to your lower back again, the spot officially claimed by him. It was the last touch you needed to send you toppling over into a peaceful sleep.
No one said anything in the morning when Gwayne joined everyone for breakfast; it felt like he had always been there. However, Rhaenyra couldnโt help giving you a cheeky wink while Alicent looked pleased. Gwayneโs hand rested on your knee as you sipped a vanilla iced coffee. You could get used to this.
~~
The next race, Gwayne won and celebrated by bending you over the hood of his car and fucking you until you howled.
"That day, she was amazed to discover that when he was saying "As you wish," what he meant was, "I love you." And even more amazing was the day she realized she truly loved him back."
help i saw people on twt interpreting the scene where sansa gives theon her pin as โmaking him an honorary starkโ and being super mad at it and like,,,,, am i the only one who interpreted it as a gesture of love from sansa because she was developing feelings for him but he died so they never had the chance to explore those feelings so sheโs leaving a piece of her with him to mourn what could have been ??
am i just too theonsa pilled to have thought about / considered the โhonorary starkโ thing??
About: Theon and Sansa spend time together before the impending battle and their imminent deaths. After the battle, Sansa ponders on what couldโve been.
Tags: NSFW, MDNI, Theon Greyjoy/Sansa Stark, Angst, Smut, Major Character Death, Mentions of Rape, Mentions of Torture, Mentions of Ramsay Bolton, Fingering, Oral, Cunnilingus, Feelings, Longing, Yearning, Grief, The Night King, The Long Night, Season 8 Episode 2, Post-Castration, Not proof read so i apologize for any mistakes!
Word Count: 8.0k
Notes: Please like, comment, and reblog to support your fanfic writers! If you have any requests, feel free to send them in my inbox!
Winterfell was home. It had always been home the moment Theon stepped foot in the castle at the age of eight years old. Direwolf banners decorating the castle walls, the Stark's running around all wild and free, even Ned Stark's bastard son had many freedoms despite his status. Theon had spent many years wanting to feel as though he belonged, to feel as though Winterfell was just as much his home as it was the Stark's.
He had been taken as a ward at such a young age, made to serve Lord Eddard Stark. He wasn't treated unwell. He had his own chambers, was taught alongside Jon and Robb on how to fight, became quite a good archer, but Theon never truly felt as though he belonged. His status was always thrown at him, especially by Robb when he was feeling particularly bratty.
But even though Theon didn't feel completely like a Stark, he hardly felt like a true Greyjoy either. Being taken at such a young age to be a ward, to stop his father's rebellion, he didn't remember much of the Iron Islands. Of course he had his childhood memories, ones that involved the ocean and the salt in the air. But a time came when he could hardly remember his older brother's faces or his sister's voice. He'd spent so much time in the north that he was hardly a boy from Pyke any longer.
Growing up alongside Robb, Theon had learned quite a lot. From archery to sword fighting, to the ins and outs of politics that all lords should learn, Theon learned all of it, as did Jon. Though he was never sure as to why Jon had to learn all of that as well. The boy was a bastard, he shouldn't know the ins and outs of politics. But as a ward, it wasn't Theon's position to question such things.
Theon knew he wasn't the greatest person when he came into himself. He was cocky, arrogant, always thought of himself as a hostage rather than as a member of the family. In many ways, he held resentment towards the Starks for that reason. However, none of that mattered now. Not after everything that had happened over the course of time.
Betraying Robb had always been his biggest regret. At the time, Theon had truly thought he could win his father's favor to help Robb obtain the ships he needed to move onward. But alas, the moment he got a second of his father's attention and potential for approval, he betrayed the man he considered his closest friend and a brother.
He knew he could never be forgiven, especially after he had taken Winterfell and pretended as though he killed Bran and Rickon. Theon never wished to be forgiven. To be forgiven by someone else would mean needing to forgive himself and Theon could never, would never, forgive himself for such a thing.
Being taken by Ramsay Bolton had been more than a horrific experience. Theon didn't think it possible for someone to be so cruel. To be so cruel that Ramsay would cut a few pieces of Theon off, take away his manhood, strip him of his own name, and paint him with cuts that would never go away properly. The amount of scars that donned Theon's body was more than he could possibly count. The experiences haunted him and likely always will. Reek will always be with him, even when his death is upon him. Theon or Reek, perhaps they're the same person; a cowardly man who does terrible things in the favor of another.
Theon had been so deep into the mindset of Reek that to be considered anything else was sinful. He hadn't been Theon is so long. Who was Theon Greyjoy? Theon Greyjoy died long ago. The master killed Theon the day he took him. All that was left was sorrowful and pathetic Reek.
Until the day Sansa Stark came riding into Winterfell.
He hadn't thought it would be possible to see another Stark while he lived. After his betrayal of Robb, after he pretended to kill Bran and Rickon, Theon knew it would be wise to not ever see another Stark. He had wronged them for more than imaginable. He couldn't fathom the idea of seeing the people he had grown up with, how they had taken him in even if it was against his will, how they treated him so kindly despite his position, and all Theon could think about was how he betrayed them all.
Yet, there Sansa sat on her horse, her hair a different color than that gorgeous Tully red that Theon had always admired, looking around at her home that she had left all those years ago which had been usurped by the Bolton's. Reek had stayed hidden, not wishing to be seen by the Lady Sansa. He couldn't face her, wouldn't face her. Not when the Master likely wouldn't allow it.
Theon had been so deep in his role as Reek that he had truly believed he was never anyone other than Reek. Who was Reek before Ramsay? Absolutely no one. Theon Greyjoy didn't exist, only Reek. And Reek lived to serve his master.
That was until the night Ramsay had married Sansa Stark and forced Theon to watch as Ramsay forcefully took her. That night, hearing the cries of a woman whom he'd known all his life, the screams of pain that Ramsay inflicted onto her, awoke something within Reek that he had thought had died a long time ago. As he cried watching the scene in front of him, he cried out of anger. That night had awoken Theon, awoken the man that had long since been buried.
And when the time came to protect Sansa from Ramsay's whore Myranda, he didn't hesitate as he threw the woman off the railing and ran away with Sansa. He didn't care for himself, he never did. He didn't care if he died or got himself hurt. All that mattered to Theon was getting Sansa safe. Get Sansa to safety, get Sansa to safety. Those were the words that Theon repeated in his head as they jumped off the wall of Winterfell's castle and made their way into the woods. As she held his hand as the trekked through the creek to throw off the hounds. And all he thought about as they sat underneath the fallen tree as he held her close him.
Sansa. Sansa. Sansa.
They hadn't seen one another since they'd escaped Winterfell, when Sansa and Theon parted ways because Sansa was finally safe with Brienne and Podrick to make it to Castle Black. Until yesterday, when Theon arrived back at Winterfell, ready to fight for the home he grew up in.
And now, here they sat, in the encampment, sipping their soup together. Sansa looked much better than she had before. She no longer looked exhausted to the point of bags underneath her eyes. And from the way she held herself, she no longer held the wounds Ramsay inflicted onto herself. She looked healthier, happier considering their current circumstances, and absolutely regal. She was the embodiment of beauty and grace and Theon felt blessed to even be in her presence.
The sudden reality of their situation hit Theon as he remembered it would likely be the last time he saw her. This battle, the battle against the White Walkers, was more likely to go south than to end in victory. It was likely a battle to end with everyone dead, including himself and Sansa. And the mere thought of Sansa losing her life put a pit in Theon's stomach.
"You look as though you're pondering," Sansa said, breaking the beautifully curated silence between the two of them. There were sounds all around them, laughter, chatter, soldiers speaking about the upcoming battle. But Sansa and Theon had found solace in their sitting together, a quiet that had not been awkward or bad.
"I suppose I am," Theon replied, looking at Sansa with a tight smile. His eyes met hers in a gaze that spoke more than a thousand words truly could.
Sansa held Theon's gaze, as if understanding the internal grief he felt within himself. The grief of losing one another in a battle that was doomed from the start. After a few moments, Sansa averted her gaze, as though she too thought about their impending doom.
Though Theon did not think Sansa would care if he died, unlike how he cared about her. He didn't deserve to be cared for in such a way, not after everything that had been done. Once upon a time, perhaps when they were younger and were still in Winterfell, he had dreamed of a time when he and Sansa would marry, where he would do anything to give her the world. Had circumstances been different, Theon supposed he still would have. He'd at least would have done anything to make sure Sansa never endured what she did. But alas, the world was not kind. And he had done far too much to deserve even an ounce of her affection.
"Do you think we could possibly go somewhere private?" Sansa asked, breaking herself out of her thoughts.
Theon simply nodded his head. His soup bowl wasn't completely finished but he couldn't find himself to care. His stomach was tight from nerves, the idea his life could end at any moment when the battle starts served to be quite the mood and appetite killer. He stood up from his spot, as did Sansa. She began walking towards the inside of the castle with Theon following closely behind.
Winterfell had changed a bit since he'd last seen it. Dirt and rubble no longer sat around the castle, the repercussions from the castle being set on fire. Ramsay had never really bothered to clean them, a way for him to let everyone know that he conquered Winterfell. But since then, Stark banners donned the castle walls along with that familiar warmth from his childhood. It was finally home again, no longer that cold and horrific place it once was.
Despite there being many people on the property, Winterfell wasn't as busy as Theon had expected it to be. Likely everyone was in the encampment or already setting up. The staff of the castle moving what they can to the crypt to stay safe. Sansa turned her head slightly as she walked, glancing to make sure Theon was still behind her.
Soon they arrived to a part of the castle that had been untouched by Ramsay and his men; the part of the castle where everyone grew up. Sansa came to her childhood door, opening it and stepping aside to allow Theon to walk into the room. She closed the door gently behind him as Theon looked around the room. "You changed rooms," Theon said, his eyes finally landing on Sansa, who had already been looking at him.
"For a ward, I always thought it was strange you had a big chamber," Sansa teased ever-so-slightly, an amused smirk gracing her lips.
Theon gave a faint smile, the memories of his life in Winterfell hitting him all at once. "It had always been quite strange to be given a room so large as just a mere ward," Theon replied.
"Father adored you in his own way," Sansa mused.
That mere sentence brought forth an ache in Theon's heart. Lord Eddard Stark had always been more of a father to him than his own. And Theon betrayed him. "I suppose he did," came Theon's response, his voice heavy with emotion.
Silence encompassed the two of them a bit more awkwardly than it had been before. Sansa stood in front of Theon, fiddling with her fingers. It was clear she was nervous. About what? Theon did not know. Or perhaps he did. They could die in just a few hours.
"I never got to thank you," Sansa eventually said, meeting Theon's gaze.
Theon shook his head, "You shouldn't thank me."
"Why not?" Sansa asked as she furrowed her eyebrows slightly. "You killed Myranda and led us to escape."
"Something I should've done the moment you stepped foot back in Winterfell," Theon replied, his voice hoarse. "I do not deserve your thanks."
Sansa's gaze softened. She took a step closer to Theon. "I thank you because without your help, we wouldn't be here to fight tonight against the dead," She said, her tone gentle. "I forgave you a while ago, Theon."
"I don't deserve your forgiveness," He said, averting his gaze. He looked down at his feet, overcome with emotion. "I don't deserve your kindness. I don't deserve any of it."
"Theon," Sansa moved closer until nothing more than a few inches stood between them. She brought her fingers to Theon's chin, her touch just as gentle as her tone. "Look at me."
Theon obeyed, his eyes moving to look at Sansa. They were so close that Theon could smell the oil that Sansa had used when she had bathed. Something that smelled similarly to lavender. Her eyes stared right back at him, all lovely and blue that it reminded him of the oceans in the Iron Islands.
"You have long since dealt with the repercussions of your crimes," Sansa spoke softly. "You've endured more than anyone can truly comprehend, lost parts of you that you will never get back. Yes, you betrayed Robb. Yes, you took Winterfell for yourself. Yes, you killed two farm boys." Sansa continued, her voice and gaze never faltering. "But you've long since made up for it. And the fact that you are here now, taking it upon yourself to protect Bran in the Godswood once the battle commencesโฆ" Sansa trailed off, as though her emotions were getting the best of her. She cleared her throat. "Don't tell me what you don't deserve."
"Sansaโฆ" Theon whispered, looking into her eyes.
"If it were up to me, Theon," Sansa swallowed. "I would do whatever in my power to ensure you were safe and away from the dangers that await for us."
"But it's not up to you," He replied.
"No, it isn't," Sansa let out a breath, as though already defeated. She pulled away from Theon, her fingers dropping from his chin. She stepped back, creating space between the two of them once more.
It was hard for Theon to know exactly what was going on in Sansa's head. She had grown to hide her emotions, to shield herself away from those who wish to harm her. He couldn't blame her. He didn't quite know what she endured in King's Landing but he knew of everything that had happened to her in what was supposed to be her own home.
"He's a looming presence," Sansa said eventually, her gaze returning to Theon. "One that never quite goes away." She didn't name who she was speaking about but it didn't take much to know who it was. Theon didn't respond as his attention was completely on Sansa. "Despite the fact I saw him die, it's as though he still haunts my very being."
Theon could sympathize as he felt the same way after all. He lost parts of himself he'd never be able to get back. He'd been manipulated to become Reek and sometimes Reek still pops out in the most random of moments. "I don't think he will ever truly leave us," Theon responded, his voice deep with emotion.
"I wish he would," Sansa said suddenly. "I wish he would leave us." Sansa chewed on her bottom lip, giving way to the storm that brewed inside of her.
Theon didn't say anything. He didn't know if he should. He felt the same way, a wish that Ramsay's presence would stop haunting either of them.
"I still feel him," Sansa continued but her voice was more hesitant than before. "Inside of me, hurting me, touching me. He's the only one who's touched me like that."
Theon's heart ached as he remembered all too well about what Ramsay had done to Sansa. Theon had been forced to watch, each and every time. "I'm sorry I didn't do anything-"
"It isn't your fault," Sansa interrupted Theon's apology. "There was nothing you could do. He tortured you far worse than he did myself."
"That doesn't change what he did to you," Theon replied back. "You shouldn't have been subjected to such treatment."
"And you shouldn't have either."
Sansa's tone was firm and honest, as though she truly believed he didn't deserve to endure any of it. But Theon didn't believe her. He truly thought that he deserved it. He had done so many horrific things. Ramsay's abuse was Theon's atonement for the crimes he had committed.
"If we are to die tonight," Sansa took a deep breath. "I don't want Ramsay to be the last person who had me in such a way," Sansa admitted, looking at Theon with an unknown expression.
Theon paused for a moment, taking in Sansa's words. "Are youโฆAre you asking something of me?" He asked, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.
"If tonight is to be our last night, I-I would like to know what it's like to be touched by another who doesn't wish to harm me," Sansa confirmed, looking at Theon. "And I wish that person to be you."
"Sansa, I don't really have the parts-" Theon tried to say.
"You have your mouth and your fingers," Sansa interrupted once again, her cheeks reddening as she realized how crude her statement sounded. "The choice is yours, however. I'd never force you into anything."
This time, Theon was the one to let out a breath. "Why me though?" He asked, looking at the woman in front of him. "There are so many other people outside. Podrick is a fine looking man, I'm sure if you asked, he would," He said, pointing out someone who likely had the proper parts to perform properly.
Sansa shook her head. "I don't want anyone else," She said. "You're the only one who properly understands, who knows what I've gone through. Y-you're the only one I can trust." The last part was spoken with a vulnerability that Sansa usually denied herself.
Theon felt as though he were frozen. He didn't quite know what to say or what to do. Was he honored that Sansa wanted him to be the one to touch her? Yes, yes he was. And had he still had his cock, he likely wouldn't hesitate. It was true that there were other ways he could make her feel good, to show her that she could seek pleasure. He had done it numerous of times to whores he'd been with in the past.
Theon's long silence was an answer within itself to Sansa as she spoke once more. "You know what?" She cleared her throat. "Never mine. You're right, it's stupid. I shouldn't have-"
"I'll do it," This time it had been Theon's turn to interrupt. He knew he should've declined it. To tell Sansa that it wouldn't be right because he wasn't worthy to worship someone as beautiful and amazing as she. But he couldn't help but say yes. She deserved to be worshipped, to be pleasured rather than used. She deserved a night of ecstasy, even if he could not actually penetrate her.
Sansa paused, looking at Theon as she processed his response. "You will?" She asked quietly, as though unsure if she had heard him properly.
Theon's tongue ran over his chapped lips as he nodded his head in confirmation. "As long as you understand I cannot give you all of myself, I can do other things to make you feel good," Theon said before swallowing.
"I understand," Sansa whispered.
Theon gave her a tiny smile, stepping forward. "How would you like to do this?" He asked, clearing his throat.
Sansa bit her bottom lip, as though contemplating how to do this. She has never known the soft touch of someone lips on hers before the act of intimacy. She has never known any of the things she's heard from other women when it comes to sex. She only knew of hurt and pain. "I don't really know," She murmured, looking at Theon. Her confident and cool demeanor was now replaced with one that could be taken as insecure and unsure.
"Can I kiss you?" Theon asked, his eyes drifting to Sansa's lips and then back to her eyes.
"Yes," Sansa nodded her head.
Theon gave Sansa a small smile before gently cupping her face. "And you're sure you want this?" He asked, double-checking with her.
Sansa nodded her head once more. "Yes," She confirmed, looking at Theon with wide eyes. "Only with you."
That was all he needed before he slowly leaned in, his face inching towards hers. He could feel her breath against his skin as his lips brushed against hers. There was a slight hitch in Sansa's breath before he fully captured Sansa's lips in a slow and gentle kiss. It took little to no time for her to return the gesture.
Sansa's hands eventually came up to rest on Theon's shoulders, her touch hesitant and unsure. She'd been kissed before but it never lasted longer than a few moments. With Theon, however, it was different. His lips moved against hers gently and with ease, a contrast from how she'd been kissed by Joffrey, Ramsay, or even Littlefinger.
The only sounds in the room were the sounds of the fire crackling as Sansa and Theon stood there, kissing one another. It was the first time that kissing someone felt right. Sansa couldn't help the small noise that escape her throat as Theon deepened the kiss. His hands moved from her face down to her waist, grasping her hips.
The two moved their lips in sync, kissing one another as though they had been made for it. Sansa's hand moved to the nap on Theon's neck as she entangled her fingers into his locks. The action elicited a gasp from Theon, his grip tightening on Sansa's hip just a fraction.
Theon pulled away just enough to look at Sansa and take in her appearance. She was slightly breathless and her cheeks were red. Theon couldn't help but quirk his lip up in a small smirk before leaning back in. He placed another kiss on Sansa's lips and then kissed her cheek and alongside her jawline. He moved his hand up toward Sansa's cloak, gently undoing the material. The fur cloak dropped to the floor, leaving Sansa in her black gown.
"You're beautiful," Theon whispered against Sansa's jawline. "You didn't deserve anything that has happened to you."
"Theon," Sansa whispered back, as though many emotions were coursing through her.
But rather than respond, Theon dipped his head to the crook of Sansa's neck, trailing small kisses along her skin. Sansa inhaled sharply, her breath shaky as Theon kissed her skin. His lips trailed over her pulse point before he dragged his tongue along it. Sansa let out another small noise as Theon began sucking on that sweet spot.
Sansa tilted her head, giving Theon more access to her neck as her hand remained rested on Theon's neck, holding his head to her. She hadn't ever felt like this. She was warm, almost overly so, and for that reason she was grateful that Theon removed her cloak. There was a pulse inside of her, one she had felt a few times but not enough to truly understand what it meant. But as Theon sucked on her pulse point and lavished her with soft touches, Sansa couldn't help but clench her thighs to relieve that ache she felt.
Theon kissed upward, his lips trailing along Sansa's neck until he reached the shell of her ear. "May I undress you, my lady?" He asked, his breath hot against Sansa's skin.
There was something in the tone of Theon's voice that made Sansa want to whimper but she held back, trying to remain composed. She cleared her throat before nodding her head. "Yes," she whispered.
Gods, did she want it. She'd never felt so hot and bothered before. Her skin felt as though it were on fire, like the color of her hair. And the ache between her thighs, she desperately wished for relief.
Theon took off the black leather armor piece that Sansa had been wearing, gently allowing the piece to fall to the floor. His fingers moved to the back of her dress, carefully undoing the laces as he looked into her eyes.
"If you're uncomfortable at any point, please tell me," He said with concern.
"I will," Sansa replied with a small smile, grateful for Theon's kindness. He was much different than the boy she had known growing up. Theon used to be cocky and arrogant, not afraid to speak his mind as he sought out Robb's approval. Now, Theon was quiet and caring. He was more reserved and patient, humbled from his experiences with Ramsay.
The material of Sansa's dress came undone as it loosened around her. She pulled her arms from the sleeves, allowing the dress to fall to the ground. She stood there in her small clothes, her skin exposed to the slight chill of her chambers.
Theon took the opportunity to look at Sansa's body. Remnants of Ramsay's torture donned her skin in scars much similar to the ones Theon had himself. His heart sunk as he thought about the horrors Sansa had gone through, the fact he had witnessed the brunt of it. He swallowed harshly, trying to get his emotions in order. And rather than say anything, Theon simply placed a kiss on Sansa's collarbone where a particularly nasty scar laid.
"You're so beautiful," He said softly.
"I'm marked by another," Sansa replied with a saddened expression. For someone who used to love how she looked, she now hated looking at herself.
Theon shook his head, his hands on her hips. "Being marked doesn't make you any less beautiful," He murmured, his lips grazing Sansa's neck. "You are always going to be the most beautiful woman I'd ever laid eyes on."
"You really think so?" Sansa asked, her hands moving to Theon's chest plate.
Theon lifted his head as he looked at Sansa. He lifted a hand to caress her cheek, his thumb running across her skin. "Sansa," he began, their eyes meeting each other. "No one could ever compare to you in my eyes." He whispered sincerely. And it was entirely true. He had once upon a time wished to have married Sansa, mainly to be considered a Stark but also because he had always found her to be quite beautiful. No one he had been with ever compared to the woman that stood before him now.
Sansa let out a breath as affection and adoration overcame her. Once upon a time, she had never thought Theon would ever be someone she could love or adore. And now, after years of trauma, he was the only person she felt comfortable with to be vulnerable. The two had suffered together and no one else would ever quite understand what had happened to either of them.
Sansa didn't say anything else as she undid the small clothes that covered her chest, allowing the material to fall to the floor. She shivered slightly at the feeling of the air, her nipples hardening from the chill. Theon exhaled through his nose as he looked down at her breasts before looking back at Sansa's face.
"May I?" He asked, his voice rough.
"You can touch me," She whispered, biting her bottom lip.
Theon licked his lips before his hands moved to Sansa's chest. His gaze was fixated on her breasts. He massaged the mounds of flesh, his hands moving slowly. He leaned in, kissing Sansa's lips as his hands remained on her chest. His thumbs brushed over her nipples, eliciting a small moan from Sansa's lips.
Despite no longer having a cock, Theon still felt arousal. And he hadn't realized it until tonight. Perhaps it's because of how long it had been. Or maybe it's just because it's Sansa and she was reacting so beautifully to him. Regardless, Theon wanted nothing more than to indulge in her pleasures, to give her a night she'd never forget.
His thumbs continued to move on Sansa's nipples, massaging the buds in a way that had Sansa breathing more raggedly. He pulled away from the kiss, his lips making their way down to her neck and collarbone. He bent down slightly, just enough to take one of her breasts into his mouth.
Sansa gasped as Theon tongued her nipple, her hand flying to his hair. "Theon," She whispered in pleasure as her fingers entwined with his curls. He began sucking on the bud, his other hand still massaging the other. Sansa let out a gorgeous moan.
Theon's other hand moved to Sansa's hip, his fingers toying with the fabric of the last piece of small clothes that she wore. Theon pulled away from Sansa's breast just enough to look at her. "May I take this off of you?" He breathed out, his fingers messing with the hem of the small clothes.
Sansa nodded her head eagerly, wanting nothing more than for Theon to touch her where she needed him most.
Theon stood up straight as he began pulling Sansa's smallclothes off of her. Sansa stood there, biting her bottom lip as Theon revealed all of her for him to see. But rather than being afraid like she had initially thought, she felt comfortable and seen. "Sit on the edge of the bed for me," Theon gently commanded as her smallclothes fell to the floor. Sansa obeyed as she stepped out of the material, backing up until the backs of her legs felt the mattress. She sat down on the bed as she looked at Theon, unsure of what to do next.
Theon said nothing as he undid the rest of his armor. He began undressing himself. He pulled off his tunic, throwing the material somewhere in the room before he paused. He glanced at Sansa and took a deep breath. And after what felt like a few minutes, he undid the laces of his breeches, pulling them down. He was wearing smallclothes underneath his breeches, had to because of he armor he had been wearing.
Sansa looked at Theon, taking in his form. His body was aligned with more scars than hers was. And she knew the reason Theon was keeping his smallclothes on. Her heart clenched in her chest as she thought about everything Theon had gone through. "I'm so sorry," She whispered, her eyes tearing up.
She knew that Ramsay had done horrible things to Theon. She knew he kept Theon in a dog kennel, made him believe his name was Reek, cut parts of him that Theon could never get back. But to see the remnants of such torture made her hurt more than she could truly fathom. Sansa felt as though she should've helped him, done something to limit the pain he had gone through. But alas, she did nothing.
Theon walked over to her, a concerned look on his face as he knelt down in front of her. His hands cupped Sansa's cheeks, his thumbs wiping away the tears from her face. He hated seeing her cry. "Shh," He hushed, looking up at her with soft blue eyes. "There's no need to cry, sweetheart," he murmured.
"It saddens me what he did to you," She whispered, looking down at Theon with watery eyes.
"Just as it does for me about you," Theon replied, leaning up to rest his forehead against hers.
Sansa leaned into Theon's touch, a shaky breath leaving her. Theon took the opportunity to kiss her lips once again. The kiss was soft and gentle, holding so many emotions that the two possessed. This wasn't just two people comforting one another, it was a kiss that held the numerous possibilities of what life could've been had they not left Winterfell all those years ago.
"My beautiful Sansa," He whispered against her lips, a longing in those words that Sansa hadn't heard from him before.
Theon's hands moved from her face down her body before resting on her thighs. His lips moved down her body, leaving a trail of kisses from her lips to her chest. Sansa looked down at Theon, her skin still reddened from the heat and array of emotions coursing through her.
"I want to make you feel good," Theon rasped as he glanced up at Sansa. "May I make you feel good, Lady Sansa?"
Sansa blushed as she nodded her head. Theon being on his knees in front of her turned her on much more than she could care to admit. The way he looked up at her with glossy blue eyes and how his voice sounded as though every word from his lips was a plea. It were as though he wanted her just as much as she wanted him. And that made Sansa feel good. She wanted to feel wanted, not as though she belongs to someone.
Theon gave Sansa a small quirk of his lips, almost a smile but not quite as he kissed her stomach. He gently opened Sansa's legs, his eyes remaining on her as he did so.
Sansa tensed, a pang of anxiety hitting her at once as the situation became more real. She looked down at Theon. Though she was scared, rightfully so, she knew the man before her would never harm her. Theon had been the one to save her, to guide her to safety away from Ramsay. He had been the one to try and use whatever warmth he had to shield her from the harsh cold after being forced to travel through a stream. He had been her light when things were too dark. With a shaky breath, Sansa relaxed as she remained focused on Theon, not allowing herself to wallow in her fears and trauma from Ramsay.
"If you need to stop at any moment, please tell me to stop," He spoke, his eyes still fixated on Sansa's.
"I will," She replied, giving him a small smile. "I just-" She paused for a moment. "Can you hold my hand?" Her voice held a vulnerability to it much like it had earlier in the night.
Theon returned Sansa's smile as he lifted his non-dominant hand, the one with the most missing appendages. Their hands clasped together as Sansa held on tightly. It was a way to ground herself, to let her know that this was real and she wasn't back in her other rooms being raped by a man who gave her no care. She was in Theon's old chambers with Theon, under the gaze of Theon, holding Theon's hand. Nothing else mattered except Theon.
Theon. Theon. Theon.
Theon leaned down as he placed gentle kisses along Sansa's the outside of Sansa's thighs. He gently opened her legs a bit more, exposing her glistening cunt to him. It was clear she had been turned on from his minstrations earlier and that fact gave him a swell of pride. He kissed the inside of her thighs, easing up towards that part of her.
Theon glanced back at Sansa's face, silently asking permission to touch her where he wanted to touch her. Sansa nodded her head as she squeezed Theon's hand. Then, without further hesitation, Theon leaned in. His breath was warm against Sansa's skin. He licked a strip from her entrance to her clit.
Sansa made a sound that was close to a whimper. She had heard stories of men going down on women. During her brief stay with the Night's Watch, she had learned much more about Jon's first encounter with sex than she ever wanted to learn about her brother or cousin or whatever he was. That didn't matter though, not at the moment. Sansa hadn't known that it could feel so good.
Theon's tongue flicked Sansa's clit, moving in little eights. She moaned softly, her free hand going to Theon's hair. He then wrapped his lips around her bud and sucked. "Theon," Sansa gasped and moaned, her fingers entangling with his curls.
Theon began eating Sansa out like a deprived man. He wanted to take it slow and sensual, to show her what it was like to simply feel. But it was too tempting to just bury his nose in her scent and devour her. Theon's tongue lapped all over her cunt while he practically made out with it. She tasted heavenly, blessed by the Drowned God himself.
Sansa's moans grew louder, much louder than she intended. Her fingers continued tugging on Theon's hair, her other hand squeezing his. She threw her head back in pleasure, thoroughly enjoying the feelings Theon was giving her.
"Fuck," She whimpered out, opening her eyes to look down at Theon. Any doubts about Theon simply doing this to appease her were gone as she watched the way he moved his face against her cunt. She didn't think it possible for a man to enjoy it so much.
His middle finger prodded at her entrance, teasing the hole. Sansa gasped at the sudden feeling but welcomed it, nonetheless. She was too far gone in pleasure, desperate for some sort of release, whatever that may be.
Theon slowly eased his finger inside of her before withdrawing it and repeating the motion a few times. As she adjusted to the intrusion, Theon curled the finger slightly, hitting that spot inside of her. "Theon," Sansa moaned, her eyes falling closed once more.
His lips wrapped around her clit, his tongue moving in sync with his finger now as he fingered her slowly. Eventually he added a second finger, curling it like the other one before moving a bit faster.
Sansa felt amazing. She hadn't known pleasure like this before. Her body was hot, her blood was pumping, she felt something building inside of her that she hadn't quite felt before. All she knew was that she didn't want Theon to stop whatsoever.
"Theon," Sansa moaned out his name again, still tugging at his hair. Theon hummed against Sansa clit, sending vibrations through her, which ellicited another loud moan from the woman.
His rhythm grew faster as Sansa's breathing grew more ragged. It wasn't long before she was gasping and whining in pleasure, that feeling inside of her coiling rapidly. And with a loud cry, Sansa came hard around Theon's fingers. Her body tensed up, her hold on Theon's hair tightened, and her thighs clenched around Theon's face. Theon fingered her through her orgasm, not stopping until Sansa finally came down from her high.
As she relaxed, Sansa breathed heavily. Her eyes opened back up to look at Theon. Theon's face was glistening with her juices as he held that familiar arrogant smirk that Sansa remembered from the old Theon. He withdrew his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth as he sucked on the digits.
The sight was absolutely sinful. Sansa couldn't help but watch as Theon sucked on his fingers, soaking up all of her juices into his mouth. His pupils were blown out and his hair was wild. Theon was truly a sight to behold. And in that moment, all Sansa could imagine was sitting on Theon's face. But she quickly pushed that image away, hoping she could live out that fantasy if they survive the Long Night.
Theon withdrew his fingers and licked his lips. He looked up at Sansa, that smirk on his face once more. "Did I please my lady?" He asked.
"Shut up," Sansa replied with a blush on her cheeks because it didn't really need saying on whether Theon pleased her or not.
Theon simply let out a chuckle before moving to stand up. His knees cracked, causing him to groan slightly, before he moved to lie on the bed near the pillows. His arms were open, as if silently inviting Sansa to lie with him.
Sansa gave him a shy smile before she scooted back on the mattress. She lied down, her head resting on Theon's chest as he held her from behind. "Thank you," Sansa murmured as Theon wrapped his arms around her.
"It was my pleasure," He murmured back, pressing a kiss onto the crown of Sansa's head.
Sansa hummed in response, a lazy smile on her lips.
Silence encompassed the two of them as they lied there in bliss. It was a welcomed silence, one that gave peace and comfort, something calming before the battle that would happen in just mere hours. Sansa felt herself dozing, her eyes closed but not quite asleep. She rested against Theon, listening to his breathing.
"I wish life had gone differently for us," Theon murmured as he traced soft patterns on Sansa's stomach with his fingers. "That I could've married you instead of you becoming betrothed to Joffrey."
Theon's voice awoke Sansa from her dozing, his words processing in her brain. Her heart clenched but she didn't reply quite yet.
"I would've given you the world," Theon continued. "I would've treated you so well, even if I was an idiot most of the time."
"Yeah?" Sansa finally spoke up.
Theon hummed in confirmation. "I never would've yelled at you. Never would've laid so much as a hand on you without your permission. I would've respected you," He sighed, still tracing patterns on her stomach. "I would've loved you," He whispered.
Sansa's breath hitched at those last few years, her heart pounding in her chest. After a few moments, she finally spoke. "Do you?" She asked.
Theon tensed just a fraction, as though he hadn't expected her to ask such a question. "I do," He said softly in confirmation.
Sansa let out a breath. "Me too," she whispered, tilting her head to look at Theon.
They didn't need to say the exact words outwardly to understand how the other felt. It was shown in how they cared for one another. Theon leaned down, pressing a kiss onto Sansa's lips, a kiss that sealed their love.
And the last kiss they'd share ever.
The following hours after their time alone were heartbreaking and hectic to say the least. Sansa had been left in the Crypts, alongside her first husband and the other women and children, wondering what was happening above them. And by morning, when the battle had been won and lives had been lost, Sansa found herself searching for Theon amongst everyone.
The surviving men who were not suffering from severe injuries were taking their time and gathering the dead. Pyres were being built so they could burn the dead, though if the Night King were dead, it's really just a formality. She had seen Jon, Arya, and Bran, but no Theon. She had a feeling in her gut, one that told her he hadn't made it.
Here she was, stood in the courtyard, hopeful that Theon survived. But that hope was quickly shattered as she saw men carrying the familiar body of the man she loved. Tears prickled in her eyes before sobs eruppted out of her, the realization that Theon was dead coming to her hard.
She didn't know how much time had passed or how she moved from the courtyard to outside the castle walls. The pyres were filled with the dead. Many important people had died during the Long Night. Lyanna Mormont, Jorah Mormont, Edd from the Night's Watch, and Theon.
Sansa stood in front of Theon's body, sobbing as she gave him the Stark pin. She stood there much longer than she should've, thinking about what could've been.
Had Ned Stark betrothed Sansa to Theon instead of to Joffrey, her life would've been much different. She always disliked Theon when growing up. He always preferred to stay by Robb, to seek approval from her father, or play rough with her brothers and Arya.
A marriage with Theon likely would've resulted in many arguments throughout their life together. He was stupid, cocky, and arrogant before everything with Ramsay. It likely would've been maddening. She liked things a certain way while Theon didn't care how things were. He preferred ale over wine while Sansa preferred lemon cakes over candied fruits.
And yet, she knew that if Theon had been given the opportunity to take her as a wife, she would've been treated well. He would've been kind to her, despite their arguing. If she were downcast, he would do anything to cheer her up, even if he were to make a fool of himself in the process.
Sansa would've been happy. There wouldn't have been Ramsay. There wouldn't have been Joffrey. There wouldn't have been Lord Baelish. There would've only been Theon and her siblings in Winterfell, living their lives in the cold, happy and alive.
Robb and Rickon would've still been alive.
And she would've loved Theon with all her heart. She would've stayed by his side, been a good wife and friend to him. She would've held him when he was down and smiled when he was up. Because despite his faults, and despite hers, their feelings for one another would've been real, not transactional like it was with Joffrey or nonexistent with Ramsay. It would have been real with Theon.
Her heart ached with grief as she thought about a life she could never possess. Her love for Theon was forged through years of hardship and trauma. He had been her light in a time so dark just as she had been to him.
Sansa was no longer the ignorant and naive little girl she had once was who wished to leave Winterfell and live elsewhere. She was now Sansa Stark, Lady of Winterfell, who suffered through much more than anyone could truly comprehend. And the one person who could ever truly understand what she had gone through, who had gone through it beside her, was dead and gone from the world.
The only man she ever truly loved and had truly loved her back.
And now, Sansa had to walk alone in the world, with no one by her side to hold her when things got too hard.
After what felt like an eternity, Sansa walked away from the pyre. She was exhausted and her eyes hurt from crying and her heart felt heavy from the pain. Sansa loved Theon more than she'd ever be able to tell him, more than he'd been able to tell her.
Last night, before the battle, will always be close to her heart and a memory that never fades from her mind. It hadn't been just about forgetting Ramsay. It had been about finally getting a chance to be with Theon, to have the perfect night with him. Sansa never got to cherish him in her youth. But now, she will always hold him close to her heart as she goes through life.
Maybe one day she'll marry another. She'll likely have to in order to produce heirs and continue the Stark line. But no one could ever compare to the love she held for Theon. He was hers and she was his and with their final kiss, she pledged her love. It was written in stars and even by the Gods themselves, Sansa belonged only to Theon.
I was rewatching some Theonsa scenes, as I do from time to time, and in 8x2 when Theon comes home and reunites with Sansa, dany asks why heโs here and he looks at Sansa. All of this we know and love and talk about, but I feel like no one talks about the visible sigh of relief Sansa lets out. Sheโs SO happy not just that heโs here but that heโs here FOR HER!!!!
We were robbed. Theon should have lived and theonsa should have been endgame. I could talk about them all day everyday. I think about them all the time. I miss them so much.
Hi! Can you pls do Theonsa for the ship bingo plssss?
Notes: more specifically show theonsa, and I got into the trenches on details
Canon. You cannot tell me otherwise
They make me feel insane, I mean, how could they not. The asoiaf/got ships are all or nothing in this house
Codependency - I meanโฆ okay, I feel like this isnโt toxic codependency (unless you like that then go for it). But I feel like they could both get very attached if heโฆ *cough cough* survived
Free space is for excess thoughtsโฆ I also like throbb. And, I obviously fw show theonsa much more. But the line in the books about that theon used to wish ned would betroth him and sansa lives forever in my mind. To me thatโs show canon too, and that he thinks later on about irony being actually in love with her instead of being a kid wanting ned to call him son (ned wouldโve approved of theon figuring himself out and going back to the starks) (ned I also have many many thoughts on) (I have a whole tag for him) (nedposting because I do it so often)
There is a desolate lack of theon fics and I cry out in rage because heโs my boy until the bitter end
Oh thereโs no way this will end well. Yeah. Fated for doom. Everything is so close at hand and theyโre so close to being happy and safe and domestic and the wars ending and getting to heal together. But they donโt get that at all.
There was a time before they got together and it was very awkward because they thought they were together and so did everybody else but at the same time there was no conversation and a lot of confused pining
theyโre sweet - yes I think they would be very sweet and domestic have you seen that reunion hug?
Oh thereโs devotion NEED I SAY ANYTHING MORE? HEโS SO DEVOTED IT MAKES ME SICK. HE WILL NOT FAIL HER AGAIN.
tasty yes yes
I also feel like in other scenarios some more boxes could be checked. I donโt usually get on the au train that super deviates from canon, but sometimes. sometimes I could be enticed. Either itโs a slight deviation or itโs a WAYY different show/book
๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ & ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐
โฅ๐ค๐ต๐ค๐ญ ๐จ๐ฅ ๐ฒ๐ง๐ค ๐ญ๐ค๐ต๐ค๐ฑ ๐ซ๐ฎ๐ฎ๐ช๐ฒ ๐ก๐ ๐ข๐ช
โ โโ ๏ฝฅ โช a study in devotional attachment, the torment of longing, and perceived unrequited love โซ ๏ฝฅ โโ โ
- all gifs & image/text/typography edits are made by me
- screenplay-style 'poetry' written by me
- quote & painting attributions under the cut
A Dance With Dragons by George R.R Martin โ Edmund Blair Leighton, Tristan and Isolde. (1902). โ "Maybe In Another Universe, I Deserve You" by Gaby Dunn โ John Henry Frederick Bacon, Romeo and Juliet. โ Lighthousekeeping by Jeanette Winterson โ The Dead Man by Georges Bataille โ Sir Edward John Poynter, Orpheus and Eurydice. (1862). โ Game of Thrones ep. 6x01 โ "Theon & Sansa screenplay poetry" by chippedcupwrites โ The Blood Pact by Beau Taplin โ Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot, Orpheus Leading Eurydice. (1861). & Game of Thrones ep. 6x01 โ "Theon & Sansa screenplay poetry" by chippedcupwrites โ Game of Thrones ep. 5x10 & When Nietzsche Wept by Irvin D. Yalom โ "The Wolves" by Isra Al Thibeh โ "Guilty as Sin" by Taylor Swift โ "Epithalamium" by Louise Glรผck โ Game of Thrones ep. 5x10 โ Arthur Hughes, The Long Engagement. (1859). โ Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare โ "Work Song" by Hozier โ Game of Thrones ep. 8x02 โ โLittle Matchstick Girlโ by Trista Mateer โ Possession by A.S. Byatt โ "Climbing" by Lucille Clifton โ The Princess Bride, (1987). โ "Sonnet 57" by William Shakespeare โ Game of Thrones ep. 8x02 โ Mirages: The Unexpurgated Diary of Anais Nin by Anaรฏs Nin โ Eugรจne Decisy & Paul Albert Laurens, La Morte amoureuse. (1904). โ Game of Thrones ep. 5x07 โ "august" by Taylor Swift โ Edvard Munch, Jealousy. (1895) โ "Nature Poem" by Chen Chen โ Game of Thrones ep. 8x02 โ Soft in the Middle by Shelby Eileen โ "Guilty as Sin" by Taylor Swift โ Delta of Venus by Anaรฏs Nin โ Dante Gabriel Rossetti, Carlisle Wall (The Lovers). (1853). โ prettyboykatsuki โ Game of Thrones ep. 8x02 & Edvard Munch, The Kiss. (1897). โ "Theon & Sansa screenplay poetry" by chippedcupwrites โ Love letter from John Keats to Fanny Brawne, (October 13th, 1819) โ Game of Thrones ep. 6x02 โ War of the Foxes by Richard Siken โ Little Weirds by Jenny Slate โ Gaetano Previati, Paolo e Francesca (1887). โ Game of Thrones ep. 8x04 โ Girls Against God by Jenny Hval โ Ruin and Rising by Leigh Bardugo โ Game of Thrones ep. 5x07 & photo source unknown โ The Angel Experiment by James Patterson โ Hilma AF Klint, The Swan, No 3, Group IX. (1915). โ "Anecdote of the Pig" by Tory Adkisson โ Her Garden Yearns More For Visitors Than Water by Fatima Aamer Bilal โ Game of Thrones ep. 8x04 โ Game of Thrones ep. 8x04 โ
I was so sad to hear about Anthony Heads passing, he played roles that meant so much to us queer, softhearted little nerds. Hearing about his support of the trans community has been so warming to read about. We will always remember your pink DS on the set of Merlin, Rest in peace sir ๐
