Game of Thrones - One Shots/Imagines: Part Three

Theon Greyjoy X Reader - Fake Tales of San Francisco (Modern AU)

A/N - This chapter is based on the song 'Fake Tales of San Francisco' by the Arctic Monkeys. I have loved this song for absolutely ages and really wanted to try to fit it into one of my imagines. I hope you all enjoy it.

You hadn't been expecting anything good when Sansa had invited you to see her new boyfriend's band at some vaguely unknown bar downtown. You hadn't seen her in weeks and she had been so desperate for you to come, so you'd reluctantly given in and gotten all dolled up. She had always had a way of getting you to give in and do what she wanted, and this time was no different.

As soon as you entered the bar, you were certain the night was going to be shit. The place was made up of one large room, dingy and dark, and stinking of stale beer and sweat. It would take weeks to get the smell out of the new dress you'd forced yourself into for the night. Of course, you'd been to shitty bars in the past, but usually you'd already had a couple of drinks by the time you'd arrived, and in your slightly inebriated state you could ignore the grossness. 

As Sansa came to greet you, pulling you into a tight hug that almost knocked you off of your feet, you forced a smile onto your lips. "I thought you'd never make it," she exclaimed, moving to hold you at arms length. "I was just about to call and make sure you hadn't bailed on me."

She looked happy. The dreamy smile that graced her so effortlessly made her look younger than she was, but brought about one of your own. "When do they go on?"

"Ten minutes," she told you, taking your hand and dragging you further into the room. It wasn't exactly busy. A few dozen people lining the stage, chattering amongst themselves, and a couple of stragglers leaning against the surface of the bar. "Get a drink now, or you'll end up missing some of the show."

With the warning lingering in your mind, you ordered yourself two drinks with Sansa hovering at your elbow, staring towards the stage. You glanced over in her direction before leaning towards the bartender and ordering yourself two shots. "Here," you called out as the man placed the drinks in front of you. "Drink this," you continued, moving the little glass of clear liquid towards her. 

"What is it?"

"Taste it and see," you murmured, lifting your own glass to cheers against hers. "Down the hatch," you added, shooting the drink as quickly as you could manage and wincing against the burn in your throat. 

When you glanced over at her, Sansa had her tongue sticking out. "I fucking hate tequila," she cried out, placing the now empty glass back on the bar. 

"Everyone hates tequila, but it's good for getting you drunk," you told her, gathering up the other two drinks and allowing her to lead you over to the front of the crowd. 

You should have known that you wouldn't be the only person dragged along for the night. As soon as Robb and Theon came into view, you wanted to curl up and die. You had this incredible ability to make yourself look like a complete idiot every time you were in a room with them, which as someone who had grown up with Sansa for a best friend, had been pretty often. 

"Y/N," Robb started, reaching out to pull you into a tight hug. "I didn't think this would be your scene," he added as he released you.

You released a snort of laughter. "What are you talking about? I love up and coming bands," you groaned, just loudly enough that Sansa wouldn't be able to hear you. You shook your head as he released you, turning to smile at Theon. "Hey." God, that wasn't smooth at all. 

"Hey." 

You opened your mouth as if you were going to say something else, but before you could think of anything the music started up. Somehow, they were even worse than you had expected. It was all yelling nonsensical lyrics and overly loud drums. A toddler could have done it just as well. You lifted your plastic cup to your mouth, taking a deep drink. Tonight was going to be torture.