(Giving this prompt a slight tweak, if that’s ok with you.:))
Gendry looked himself over one last time before deciding his bow tie was about as straight as it was ever going to be.
If Robb didn’t like it — well. Robb knew what he’d gotten himself into when he’d asked Gendry to be an usher at this thing. Or at least he should have known. A perfectly straight bow tie just wasn’t part of the deal.
Arya x Gendry. Gendry is the brother of Arya's best friend please :D
She wasn’t supposed to look. Gendry was older than her by three years, and his adoptive younger sister, Meera, was her best friend. Looking at her older brother, even if non blood related was a big no no. IF Bran was off limits for Meera, Gendry was certainly off limits for Arya. But at this point, she couldn’t care about any of that. The way she was watching, they both knew it. He was cleaning, the pool, as Meera was dosed off next to her, tired from working the late shift at the grocery store, Arya took the liberty to openly gawk at her friends brother.
His muscles constricting underneath the sun light. His chiselled stomach was etched with a sculpture touch as she thought about tracing her fingers down his muscled spin. Sending shivers through her system.
This was not Arya. She was not the boy crazy sister. Sansa was the one who went goe-goe-ga-ga over boys. Ayra was their best friends. A tomboy, but she threw that out the moment she bought this bikini. Instead of the boy shorts and sport bar like two piece, she had recently purchased a string low cut show stopper from Victoria Secret. Curiosity of said sister. When Arya asked her sister to help get his attention, not knowing who it was, she offered to buy her the swim suit. It was the middle of July, and tanning was the new thing, that Meera and Arya were planning on doing this summer for the first time in ever. So she jumped at the chance.
But now sneaking looks at Gendry, she realized how much it was revealing. For the first time since beginning to look at him, she noticed his stares at her. The way his eyes cascaded down her long legs, and her fully developed breasts. She was 17 going on 18 this year. He was 20 going on 21 in only a couple of weeks. She felt like a stupid schoolgirl, trying to get her dream crush to notice her.
And the moment she made eye contact with him, she realized that she was one of the lucky ones. Not only was she getting his attention, she made him grow slightly more pink at the realization he was caught. Yes she thought, this was going to be a good summer.
Arya anxiously scans the crowd of people milling about baggage claim, hoping to catch sight of the shock of black hair and the bright blue eyes she hasn’t seen in what feels like several lifetimes.
She sees businessmen in three-piece suits hugging their wives and children. Parents, picking up long-haired college students who’ve come home for the summer. Elderly couples holding hands as their middle-aged sons carry their suitcases.
Right before Arya is about to scream — to stomp her feet, to throw something, in frustrated impatience — she finally sees the men of Gendry’s troop, walking single file down the corridor and right towards her.
DO YOU KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS??? ROBCELLA AU PROMPT TIME!!!!!!! Girl Imagine Robb as a firefighter, and Cella and a medic. And they're together and work out of the same station (just imagine it would happen even though it totally never would). And the rest is up to you. Just, Robb as a firefighter.
(OMFG YES YES YES YES A THOUSAND TIMES YES TO THIS MY DEAR!!!!)
His hands shook, even as they rested against the mattress beneath him. He could still see her face, the little girl with the brown pigtails, her little dead ashen face starring up at him. He closed his eyes to try and block out her mothers cries but nothing worked. It wasn’t until hours later when a familiar pair of arms wrapped around him that he could breathe again.
"The guys told me. I’m so sorry, Robb." Myrcella whispered soothingly. She rubbed his back gently and he felt, almost immediately, the wave of tension roll off of him.
"Today is your day off. You should be at home sleeping. They keep putting you on the graveyard shifts, you must be exhausted."
"She was six, Cella. A six year old girl who I didn’t save."
Myrcella kissed his shoulder gently and ran her fingers through his hair. He still had his uniform on and half his equipment. Soot lingered in his hair and clung to her fingers. He had black streaks on his face and his eyes were red rimmed from crying, “Robb,” she started. “We both knew getting into this line of work….that we couldn’t save everyone. You are a good man. And I know that you did everything you possibly could to save that little girl.”
Robb sniffed and wiped at his eyes, “Its just really hard sometimes. This job.”
Myrcella nodded, “I know it is.” she told him. She placed her hand on his cheek and turned his head to face her, “But you’ll be, okay.” she leaned forward and kissed his lips gently. “Come on, lets get you cleaned up. You’re a mess.”
Despite his mood, he laughed. “Am I?”
Myrcella nodded, “You sorta look like Bucky Barnes’ eyeliner got into a fight with a raccoon.”
Robb laughed, his deep hearty laugh, the laugh that always made Myrcella’s stomach turn into butterflies. “Well, I suppose I should go shower then.”
"Please don’t argue. You have to leave right now, you aren’t safe here." --Gendrya <3
A bit different from my usual but I really wanted it to be set in Braavos…
She’d seen the Westerosi ship come into Braavos three weeks ago. The group of men that made their way around the harbor were brutes mostly, except for one. There was something about the quiet, sullen man with black hair and blue eyes that struck her. Like a forgotten dream he hovered at the edge of her consciousness.
Her intrigue turned to bitter dislike as he crept into her mind at the most inopportune times. Her training suffered. Her mind would wander to him and she couldn’t see through the Waif’s lies so well.
When on assignment from the Kindly Man, traversing the streets as Cat of the Canals, her eyes would linger on dark-haired men with sturdy builds. None of them were him though. No, she didn’t see those bright blue eyes again for weeks and when she did he nearly got himself killed.
She had spent all day working with Brusco and his daughters. She, Brea and Talea made their way back to the fishmonger’s home when a belligerent, drunken Westerosi man stumbled out of a whore house and into the streets.
"I ain’t got enough coin for a proper whore," he slurred, "but maybe I got for enough for you." He grabbed Brea roughly, his hands getting lost in her hair and the skirts of her worn dress.
She quickly seized a dagger from the man’s boot, she was about to strike when a dark figure came from shadows and plowed into the drunken letch. Brea was freed in the melee and she called for her and sister to run to safety.
The drunk was sloppy but vicious, taking any and all cheap and dirty shots he could. The man who had come to her “rescue” was himself in need of saving.
She heard a painful crack and cry of pain and saw her would-be savior fall to the ground. The drunk stumbled and caught his breath for a moment before moving in to strike. It was in that moment that she made her move and shoved the filched dagger into the man’s side. She felt the knife slide in through his muscle and fat and flesh. Her aim was true and she felt it slip right between his ribs.
The drunk fell to the ground bleeding profusely. The life drained from his eyes and she turned to the man who would be her savior. Only she didn’t need saving.
The moonlight spilled over them as the man rose to his feet. “Arya?” He whispered.
A shiver of recognition ran through her.
He walked over to her, cradling a broken hand, but he raised the other to her cheek. She flinched at his touch.
His voice turned soft, pleading. “Arya, it’s me. Gendry.”
The names rattled around in her mind, bending the walls, begging her to remember her life before the House of Black and White, before the Faceless Men.
His name was on the tip of her tongue but it would go unsaid for in that same moment a group of men emerged from the brothel, looking for their lost companion.
They saw the river of blood flowing down the cobblestone streets. She saw them eyeing the blood on her hands, saw them circle the bright blue-eyed man dangerously.
She turned to him, “Please don’t argue. You have to leave right now, you aren’t safe!”
He didn’t budge, he didn’t move a muscle. In fact, he walked the few steps to stand by her side, prepared to fight.
"Run you bull-headed bastard!" She admonished under breath.
If anything, her words made the strange man stand taller, stronger. As if her outburst had somehow renewed him.
"No. I’ve finally found you. You’re not getting rid of me easily, my lady."
Robb grabbed the last of the groceries from the foyer when he realized that Grey Wind was nowhere to be found. He called out to his friend but there was no response. He knew for sure that his furry friend wasn’t within shouting distance when Robb called out that he might or might have ripped an entire bag of treats and it’s all over the floor. After placing his supplies into the refrigerator, he decided to take a quick look around the neighborhood.
He was making his way down the first block of condos when he heard barking coming from across the street. He looked to see his dog had picked up a new friend.
Gendry looks up, surprised, as the door to the forge is thrown open and Arya storms in, Nymeria at her heels. He sets down his hammer and eyes her with equal amounts wariness and amusement as she slams the door shut and leans against it, glaring at him like he is the cause of all her problems.
Let me know if I missed anything, or if you notice any mistakes on this page in general. Last Updated: 8/6/2014 # 3 AM. By: starknakedgendry. WC: 351. Rated: T. 30 Prompt Table: 9 - Dress. By:…
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At this point it was just getting ridiculous. She had a Transfiguration exam and a Potions essay due, both of which were not to be taken lightly, but it would appear that neither would be getting completed due to the fact that Arya could not catch a moment’s respite from being Hogwart’s most favorite source of gossip. She might as well dye both eyebrows bright magenta for all the good it did her. People wouldn’t stop staring anyway.
Prompt: Arya lighting a cigarette and Gendry bitching at her that she will get lung cancer and die.
"When did you start smoking?"
"Who wants to know?"
"I do, clearly. Arya—you know that’s bad for you. You know it’ll kill you, right?”
"Will it? And here I thought the giant ‘SMOKING KILLS’ warning was just for artistry."
"You’ll get lung cancer. Or emphysema. Or throat cancer. Or tongue cancer. Also you’ll taste like gross ash and I won’t want that near me, but that’s hardly as important as the dying thing. I just thought I’d register it. Since sometimes, you don’t really pay attention to the self-preservation arguments."
"Hey, I pay plenty of attention to the self-preservation arguments."
"Yes. I just don’t take them to heart. But don’t worry. I listen to them plenty."
"I can’t believe you’re actually going to put that thing in your mouth."
"It’s not the most dirty thing that’s been in th—"
"You’re really upset, aren’t you?"
“Yes! I am! You’re going to die.”
"I hardly think one cigarette is going to kill me, Gendry."
"Yes, but it’s the gateway. Into more. Which will kill you. According to science."
"Can I tell you something?"
"You’re going to tell me to fuck off and it’s your decision, aren’t you?"
"Well, as a rule, but this time, I was just going to share that this is in fact a chocolate cigarette.”
"Chocolate. Fair trade too. Dark chocolate."
"Oh I’m going to kill you."
"I thought you wanted me to stay away from things that would kill me?"