#ghost x daenerys

[natasaivy]

when dany first meets jon.... and goes straight for the giant white direwolf instead <3 ;) a silly little sketch meant as a AHEM 2021 christmas card for an awesome awesome friend <3 JUST A BIT LATE

[evax3]

Space Au, soldier!Jon x alien!Dany

HAPPY NEW YEAR!! ♡

... too tired to stay awake.

tattoo ref.

[moondancer71]

The Spirit of Christmas | a Jonerys Christmas one-shot

Summary: With a promotion at stake, Dany must secure an appraisal for a historical inn before the New Year. The only problem is the ghost who occupies the inn during the twelve days before Christmas won’t let that happen.

“The door was open,” Dany explained, even though she lacked the need for an invitation as this was a business and not a residential property. 

“It wasn't,” the man countered, lips pressed in a thin line. “I’m actually in the middle of closing the inn down for the holidays.” 

Dany furrowed her brow. “Closing? Isn’t this the high season?” She looked around and saw that the inn lacked Christmas decorations. 

“Tradition.” He took the picture from her hands and returned it to its spot on the mantel. “I’m Davos Seaworth, the innkeeper.” He extended his hand to her. “You must be Ms. Targaryen from Manderly and Hornwood Law Firm.” 

Dany returned Davos’s handshake. “Please call me Dany. Yes, I’m here for the property appraisal.” 

Davos scrubbed a hand across his beard. “Yes, Mr. Tarly arrived early and…he left early.” 

“Yes, I saw him leave. Did something happen?” 

Davos shrugged. “It’s probably the ghost. Jon has never harmed anyone, but every once in a while he does like to assert himself.” 

“Jon.” Dany snorted. “You’re on a first name basis with the ghost?”

Read the complete fic on AO3. Thank you @arielchelby for beta reading and the encouragement! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! 🎁🎄

Ice and Fire Jonerys Discord

[killershrike]

Annnnnd this is straight up very much how I imagine Ghost fights, how confident he is, some of his inflections, some of his mannerisms, how he looks at So-yin, like, as anyone who's read Dark Suspension can tell Khal Drogo & Daenerys Targaryen's relationship HEAVILY inspired Han-e’sain's and So-yin's. Just without the whole toxic beginning LMAO and Ghost is very much a less toxic inspired version of Drogo (can you blame me ugh) and of course much more Emo and Formal lmao

tell me why I'm attracted to big violent dangerous men??

[fandomsbyladymelodrama]

I heart pack animals <3

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

A Song of heart and blood - part five | Daemon Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader

Summary: After an horrible prophetical dream, you find yourself traveling through time to try and save your sister, Daenerys, from her fatal ascension to the Iron Throne. During your mission, your heart derives you from your duty and you fall in love with your ancestor

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: After a long wait, the fifth part is finally there! I hope you didn't forget about this story... In case you did, please give it a re-read. The last two parts will follow soon (for real)

masterpost

—

Was there a day when Daemon Targaryen wasn’t plotting and scheming? When he wasn’t trying to secure his succession to the Iron Throne, he was coming up with war strategies or helping his great-great-great-great-great-great granddaughter change the future of an entire dynasty.  

He didn’t understand the magical side of your story, how exactly you had traversed through the stones, but he believed you.

As the sky gradually darkened, you shared with him the future you knew — the dance. The demise of King Viserys, the crowning of the usurper, the Velaryons’ betrayal to Rhaenyra, plunge culminating in Daemon's final breath, Rhaenyra’s barbarous death, and more. 

Daemon wished he had brought a strong alcohol of some sort. Your tales were very difficult to hear at times. 

‘’We have to stop this war from happening, Daemon.’’ 

The prince nodded, his gaze fixed on the flames dancing in the stone fireplace before you. ‘’How do you suggest we do so? You suppressed the wrongly-crowned king before he could be born, but no moon tea will stop Alicent from birthing another babe. My brother is determined to have a son, and he'll persist until one is born to his young bride.’’ 

Being wedded to a king so young and with such a considerable age difference must not be pleasant for her. She wears a crown and owns beautiful dresses, but she was forced into a role she never desired all because her father aimed to have his blood on the Iron Throne. You almost felt bad for Alicent, but you couldn’t erase the horrible things she did — the things she will do. 

A reflection struck you. ‘’The king declared Rhaenyra his heir, but if you were to marry and have a babe of pure Targaryen blood, would the king be willing to reconsider your succession to the throne? His and Alicent’s children will never be pure Targaryen blood, yours could.’’

Daemon turned his head toward you, raising an eyebrow. ‘’Are you suggesting we marry?’’

Air got caught in your throat, causing you to choke. ‘’No! No, I…I was thinking of the princess. She is young, but—’’ 

‘’Marrying my niece has been on my mind in the past, but I’ve grown out of that idea. But you, you are of pure blood. Born from another time, but you carry the blood of the dragon.’’

Shaking your head, you stood. ‘’I cannot marry you, Daemon.’’ 

‘’You said you were in great danger from the hands of Otto Hightower. Marriage would ensure your safety.’’

You shook your head again, laughing at the insane words that left the prince’s mouth. ‘’You’ve lost your mind.’’  

Dameon suddenly looked serious, any ounce of humor wholly erased from his earlier easygoing features. ‘’You are my blood, there is nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you safe.’’ He combed a hand through your hair, pulling your face away and forcing you to look at him. ‘’You’re safe with me. I swear it.’’

Every bone of your body believed him. If you hadn’t felt safe in his presence, you would never have revealed him your secret. You would never have come to him for help.

You closed your eyes, drinking in the feeling of his touch. ‘’But I can’t stay forever,’’ you said, reopening your eyes. ‘’I’ve played enough with the future; a marriage would have significant repercussions.’’ 

Daemon’s finger ghosted across your cheekbone, sliding downwards until it settled on the corner of your mouth, gently caressing your pout with the rough pad of his finger. His eyes were contemplative, thoughtful. Gradually, his touch gently lowered, your decollete now the point of his focus. His index finger ran a smooth ring around the chain at your neck, a ghost of a perplexed frown forming on his face.

‘’I don’t care.’’ 

‘’Birthing an heir myself will change the whole lineage, Daemon. By doing this, my sister and I may not exist in the future.’’

‘’You said yourself that you were from my lineage—’’

‘’Your and Rhaenyra’s lineage,’’ you corrected. Was he not listening to what you were saying? ‘’If you don’t marry her, your children won’t be born and therefore I cannot exist.’’ 

Your eyebrows furrowed as a question echoed in your head. If you disrupt too much of time, will you vanish? Unfortunately, there was no way of finding the answer to your question. Not many had dangled with time-traveling, let alone written about it.

‘’How long do we have?’’ Daemon asked, pulling you out of your thoughts. 

‘’I don’t know,’’ you said truthfully, lowering your eyes to the stone floor. 

Daemon lifted your chin, tipping your head up to look at him. ‘’Let’s not waste time, then.’’ He closed the space between you, his lips molding perfectly with yours. 

You angled your head to deepen the kiss, not realizing how much you missed the taste of him. Your arms wrapped around his neck, nimble fingers burying in his silver hair as he pulled you against him, his clothed body flush against yours. 

Then, you were suddenly reminded of Rhea Royce. ‘’Don't you already have a wife?’’

⁂

All Daemon had said before leaving on Caraxes was that he had a business to take care of. Assuming it had to do with his wife being in the way of your marriage, you didn’t ask questions. You wouldn’t like the answers. 

He could have it dissolved by the king. His marriage with Rhea Royce had never been consummated, which would leave her honor intact. But Daemon had mentioned Runestone. Hopefully he’ll spare the woman’s life, you didn’t want to indirectly have blood on your hands.

To put your thoughts to rest, you busied yourself exploring the castle. The corridors echoed with the history of your house, each step revealing a new layer of the past. 

Eventually, you stumbled upon one of the bedchambers, situated atop of the castle. Pushing open the heavy door, you stepped into the large chamber. Like the rest of the castle, the walls adorned large dragons crafted into stone. You ran your hand over the stone, smiling. 

Dany would love this.

Curtains were draped above the large windows, a bright red shade — Targaryen red. It made the room more elegant and matched with the couch cushions. How nice must it be to sit there and look at the sunset.

Lastly, your eyes found the bed. It was smaller than the bed you shared with Daemon and the velvet bedding was slightly dusty from not having been used in a while. You laid on it regardless, tired from all your travels.

⁂

The hour was late when Daemon returned to Dragonstone, the moon casting a silver glow over the island. He should have gone to bed — with you —, but the weight of his responsibilities pressed upon him. There was no rest for the prince tonight. 

In the dim light of the candlelit room, he sat at a desk and wrote a message to a Septon he trusted would keep his tongue, arranging for the discreet ceremony that would bind you and him in the morrow. It had to be done rapidly and in the most secrecy. 

When the devastating news of Rhea Royce’s passing would inevitably travel across the realm, he knew that as her husband, the first suspect would be him. Their marriage was purely political. His dislike for the Lady of Vale wasn’t a secret. But if whispers of Daemon’s wedding to you were to reach the people’s ears, it would strengthen their suspicion that Daemon had something to do with it.

⁂

You had never seen a traditional Valerian marriage before. You had only read about it in books. The entire ritual involved blood to keep with the Targaryen legacy of being wed by blood and fire. 

A breeze coming from the bay blew over the hill, causing your silver waves to dance in the foggy air. You had removed most of your braids for the ceremony, letting your hair cascade down your back. Atop your head sat a traditional piece of Valerian headgear, given to you by Daemon. You assumed it was old, so you treated it with the utmost care. 

The Septon stood between you and Daemon, your vibrant marital robes contrasting with his dark clothes. ‘’We stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife: one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever. In the sight of the Seven, I, hereby, seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words: Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger…I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.’’ 

Although this marriage won’t last forever, you wished Dany was present for the ceremony. When you were little, you and her would fantasize about getting married and the beautiful dress you’d be wearing on your big day — and the lucky man who you would wed to. 

‘’Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger…I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days,’’ Daemon repeated, his violet eyes looking into yours. He was so beautiful. 

The Septon turned to you, silently telling you it was your turn. 

‘’I am his and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days,’’ Daemon continued.

You repeated the words, then, using a dragonglass blade, Daemon cut the middle of your bottom lip. He took blood that was drawn from the blade and smeared it on your forehead. You mirrored his action, smearing his blood on his forehead. The ritual felt witchcraft-y, but whispers had it that your Valyrian ancestors used magic to build this very castle. 

You handed back the dagger and, in turn, Daemon cut a line in his palm. You followed suit, hissing as you drew a matching cut on your own skin. Blood trickled from the fresh cut before clasping your hands together, letting your and Daemon’s blood mix together. 

‘’Blood of two, joined as one,’’ the Septon said, placing a ribbon with a traditional pattern and tying it over your joined hands as blood dripped from your injuries and to the ground. ‘’Ghostly flame and song of shadows. Two hearts as embers, forged in fourteen fires. A future promised in glass, the stars stand witness. The vow spoken through time, of darkness and light.”

A chalice brimming with wine was passed to you, and you sipped from it before passing it to your soon-to-be husband. Even standing there, you almost couldn’t believe you were marrying this beautiful man. 

Daemon leaned down, pressing his cold lips against your own. You could taste blood through the kiss, unpleasing and metallic, but you ignored it and kissed him harder. 

—

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[themotherofhorses]

about.

vic | she/her | 20s

southwestern native american and hispanic

gemini | bi-demi

ao3 | spotify

All Content 18+ | minors DNI

all my fanfics can be read below in my masterlist or found under my "vic writers 🧸" tag.

happy readings <333

Simon “Ghost” Riley (Call of Duty)

“There he is …. Simon Riley.”

multi-chapter series:

paloma (masterlist)

a multi-chapter series exploring the love story between a british sas lieutenant and his indigenous woman.

one-shots:

(to be added)

drabbles:

love at first sight w simon

holding simon while he cries

Aemond Targaryen (House of the Dragon)

"...Prince Aemond, despite the loss of his eye, had become a proficient and dangerous swordsman under the tutelage of Ser Criston Cole, but remained a willful child, hot-tempered and unforgiving..."

multi-chapter series:

last of her house no more (masterlist)

aemond targaryen with the daughter of daenerys stormborn and khal drogo.

just like animals (masterlist)

a dark & obsessive!aemond targaryen hunting down his sweet modern!wife (and also she’s preggos).

his handmaid's tales (masterlist)

the love story between prince aemond and his handmaid.

one-shots:

blood is thicker than water (but betrayal stains the most)

requests:

even the whales fall prey to men

what was mine is still mine, regardless of time

follow me now, and you will not regret (leaving the life you led before we met)

bodyguard!aemond x president’s daughter!reader

drabbles:

foolish men dream foolish lives

you are the moon, i am the sun (i will not allow you to forget)

obsessive!aemond targaryen with niece!reader

an eye for an eye (1) — a son for a son (2)

Alys Rivers (House of the Dragon)

"...Was she, in truth, a witch who lay with demons, bringing forth dead children as payment for the knowledge they gave her?"

one-shots:

mother's day special (part of "his handmaid's tales")

bewitched

drabbles:

you are the moon, i am the sun (i will not allow you to forget)

[dannyboy-writes]

Of thrones and dragons

Daenerys x male Dragonrider reader who's from ulthos? I will probably make a part to of this who knows

Ser Jorah had told Daenerys tales of Ulthos’ weather. The thick jungle.

Trees taller than she had ever seen and the murmur of wild creatures bristling her skin. 

Countless thoughts running through her mind. But one most present. She should’ve brought Drogon with her.

Click.

A broken branch? A booby trap? Or something else?

“Nobody move,” she whispered, raising an eyebrow at Greyworm.

A bright orange ray shone above them. Almost like sunlight.

Definitely warmer.

“Maybe he wasn’t a myth,” Missandei spoke softly.

Suddenly the beast dropped in front of them, with the Unsullied unpacking their spears, and Daenerys tensing all her muscles. Bracing herself.

Dark green scales covered the entirety of your dragon. His face stoic and with gritted sharp teeth. 

He was breathing slowly, Daenerys noticed. Calm, deep breaths.

But his eyes were focused on her. 

And not only his’, she realised. 

You dismounted softly from your beast, ignoring completely the army in front of you. Their spears were sharp and in your direction. 

Every soldier was looking at you more menacingly than the last.

Your eyes however, were focused on her.

Long, pale hair, with braids as long as her waist. Falling completely over her back.

Her eyes were inviting, but there was a tint of worry. Of uncertainty.

You shifted your eyes towards your beast, caressing his side slowly until he calmed with you.

“Are you y/n?” She asked.

Quickly your eyebrow raised in your forehead. “Who are you?”

“I’m Daenerys, of house Targaryen. Blood of Old Valyria.”

“And what brings you to the wilds, your majesty,” you mocked.

“I’ve been searching for you for some time. I was starting to believe you were a myth.” She stopped. “Or a ghost.”

“Ah,” you smiled. “And what’s to say I’m not.

“Terrible dangers lie in this land. Untamed beasts and whatmore.” You grinned.

“And tamed ones?” 

“Oh, yes, those tend to be the worst. But don’t worry, Wildfire here won’t do you any harm,” you smiled, patting your beast. “Nor will I.” 

She smiled and called down her army. “I am in search of a dragon rider, some people called him the best and mightiest of them all. I’ve heard tales of the riders of Uthos.”

“Oh, did you? What did you hear if you may?”

“I heard the forests of Uthos had beasts so swift that their scales blended in with the greenery. And their riders had unmatched skills. Like nothing ever seen in the entire world.”

“Yes, that is true. And why would you need a dragon rider with unmatched skills.” You asked, “Blood of old Valyria you said, you’re supposed to have dragons as well. Although your kind faded with time, I assume the dragons remained.” 

“Sadly, no.”

“Whoever told you that is a liar, and you a fool for believing them. Dragons will outlive us all. Just as we outlive birds, and them ants. It’s the way of the world.”

Her face went stoic. “Will you help me in my quest to conquer Westeros, y/n?” She inquired.

You laughed, “Why would I, I don’t give a damn about Westeros. I don’t even know you, for all that.”

“You could have a throne,” she offered.

“I have a throne, or do you see me taking you to speak with someone about this? Why would I want another one? And one so distasteful.” You grabbed a stone from the ground throwing it lazily, “Why do you?” 

[mysticalprincesskitten]

Aegon II Targaryen x OC // House of the Dragon fanfic

Yandere!Aegon, Dark!Aegon

Trigger warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, mdni, dark themes, bondage, kidnapping, yandere?? Targcest, OC is Viserys and Aemma's daughter, OC is named Daenerys, OC looks like Elizabeth Olsen

Part Three

The crown had changed Aegon.

No longer was he merely a youth craving his mother’s kindness, his father's attention, forever in the shadow of who he was supposed to be. Now he was King of the Seven Kingdoms, at war with his half-sister for the throne on which he sat.

Fate had forced this on him, but Aegon had embraced it. For the sake of his family, for Mother and Aemond and Helaena and their little twins, Rhaenyra could not ascend the Iron Throne. She would kill them all.

Besides. Aegon was the rightful king. Father had agreed as much finally on his deathbed; as the firstborn son, Viserys’ crown passed to Aegon. The Great Council had reinforced tradition by seating his father on the throne instead of Rhaenys, but Father, in his arrogance, opposed tradition by naming his favourite child heir. Mother said so.

If only his wife could see the truth.

Daenerys was a hellcat. A she-dragon. Since Aemond had ambushed her at Storm’s End, forcing her to dismount Grey Ghost and return to King’s Landing lest Vhagar rip her beloved dragon to shreds, Daenerys had refused to touch Aegon, to speak a kind word to him. It made him whine and whimper, a kicked dog. Daenerys loved him. She always had. She was the only one who knew him, who didn’t expect him to be something he wasn’t.

And now she wouldn’t be close to him unless he bound her to their bed.

His grandfather was a fool, but he was right about one thing — the king needed an heir. Daenerys and Aegon had been wed for a couple of years and they had yet to conceive. It had never bothered Aegon before — one less person to steal her attention from him, truth be told — but that was when he'd been Prince Aegon.

King Aegon needed a trueborn heir from his queen.

And Aegon had missed her so, so much.

“How dare you?” His she-dragon thrashed anew in her bonds. “I am not your broodmare, Usurper!”

Aegon flinched. Then the fire within his own blood met to meet hers.

“How dare I? How dare you, sweet sister. My beloved bride. We are married, whether you like it not. You are mine. Do you think I could bear for you to leave me again? I let you slip from me once and they forced a crown on my head.” His lip wobbled, even as he held her wrists tight enough to bruise. He wanted his marks on her. His his his.

She was all he had, his only good thing. Daenerys had been by his side all his life, a playmate and partner. Sometimes she insisted they include Helaena and Aemond in their play, and Jace and Luke, but most of the time, if he pouted just so, he could get her to play just the two of them, chasing each other through the Red Keep, bumping into servants and high lords alike, playing monsters and maidens and come-into-my-castle.

And when childhood faded to adulthood, his sister’s soft curves and smooth skin made him stiffen in his breeches at the worst possible moments. He found himself transfixed by the dimple of her cleavage, a faint line peeking from the silver and cream gown she wore.

His Nerys refused to wear green, but rarely donned their House colours — Rhaenyra’s colours — either. Her heraldry honoured her dragon instead, the wild Grey Ghost. She liked silver Myrish lace and ivory Lyseni silks the most, beaded with opals and moonstone. Aegon liked how her gowns looked scattered across the floor of their bedchamber.

“It’s not too late,” she breathed, violet eyes wide and watery. “We could leave, Aeg. We could leave King’s Landing. Leave the Seven Kingdoms. Fly to the Free Cities with me. We could explore new lands, taste new cuisine, where nobody from this dreary kingdom would ever find us. We could see the Dothraki Sea, the old lands of Valyria's empire. Please, Aeg. Please.”

He could see her vision clearly: clouds covering exotic lands, blades of emerald grass below. Both of them, together. How they had always been. Wasn’t that what he’d wanted before his mother marched him to his coronation?

But another path lay open to him now. What if they didn’t have to flee? The crown was heavy, but Aegon found his liked it’s weight.

He was King. Nerys was his queen. She would give him trueborn princes and princesses that would fill the Red Keep, enough to lay his claim so deep inside her she could never claw it out.

A frenzy overtook him. He crashed their lips together, and she kissed him back, Seven Hells she was finally kissing him back, finally, she loved him again, she did she did…

His tongue tasted the sweetness of her mouth, overwhelmed with the need to possess. “I love you,” he gasped, “I love you so much, Nerys…”

“Untie me.”

He stilled. Stroked silver curls from her forehead, gazing at her with pain in his chest.

“No.”

Her face grew cold. “You won’t leave. Not now. You’ve supped from the king’s cup and now you mean to gorge yourself, like you always do.”

“Enough,” he snapped. “Stop spoiling everything.” His lips returned to her throat.

“Aegon, no! Stop!”

He didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.

Grandfather had spoke sense that morning during the Small Council meeting. Without an heir, Aegon’s grasp on the throne was tentative. Rhaenyra had six sons to succeed her. Should anything happen to Aegon before he sired a son, the throne would pass to Aemond.

Aegon often wondered whether his brother would be happy if he died. Aemond lusted for kingship, for Helaena and a dragon to call his own. He had two of those things already.

“Get off me!”

“Hush.” His right hand clenched her throat, the other trailing beneath her nightgown where her legs were bound together, seeking the wetness between her thighs.

“Aegon…” Nerys moaned.

“I know how to touch you, Nerys. Your body might as well be my own.”

She started to curse him but another moan strangled her words. “You disgust me.”

Don’t say that. “Do I? This tells a different story.” His fingers thrust into her.

She cried out.

“That’s it, darling. Let me take care of you."

[axelsagewrites]

Hi. Can I request Edmure x female Snow (Jon’s sister) where Edmure, reader, Jon etc learn her heritage and after dany’s mad queen thing is reader selected to be queen and Edmure her consort. Maybe smut too, either way more Edmure.

Edmure Tully*My Queen, My Love

Pairing: snow!f!reader x husband!edmure

A/N: I did change your request slightly since I just couldn’t think of how to write danny as the mad queen or how to get the plot going so now its edmures reaction to her heritage and danny naming her as her heir and them celebrating with some soft smut at the end so I hope you still like it!

Word count: 2705

Warnings: talks of death/red wedding, praise, ‘my queen’ honorific, f!receiving oral, fingering, slight teasing, thighs, soft smut 18+

Past

When Jon left for the wall, you thought you’d never see him again. When your sisters got taken as hostages in the red keep you thought they were as good as dead. When Winterfell was taken you thought your youngest brothers were gone for good. Everyone around you began to drop like flies and if not for Edmure you would have thrown yourself from Riverrun’s walls when you got the news of Robbs brutal murder and at a wedding no less.

Your stomach churned at the memory, and you wondered what your own fate would have been if Robb had not sent you and Edmure back to Riverrun to defend it from Lannister attacks. Sometimes you wondered if he knew, if somehow Robb felt the unease in the air of the twins. When you hugged Robb goodbye for the last time you clung on, but you did not know why you did or why your direwolf star was so reluctant to leave Greywind’s side. She, like ghost, was a pale white but unlike his red eyes hers were the palest of purples, so pale you wondered if they were clear in certain lights.

You were only halfway to Riverrun when you heard the news. You tried to back, hell bent of trying to avenge Robb with a sword, a wolf, and only three men but Edmure had to hold you back. He screamed at you in the forest ‘do you want to die? What of your sisters who will they have to save them when your dead at Walder Frey’s feet? Dying won’t bring him back.'

'My father is dead. My brothers are dead. The girls are as good as dead and only the gods know where Jon is, you screamed it back, face wet with tears and your voice tearing the air. I have no one.'

'You have me and you have star and the gods be good your sisters in time, but you won’t have anything if you run without thinking.'

His words swam about your heads for the weeks you spent traveling with Edmure and the two others Robb had sent with you. Your gold ran out quickly and there were no friends for you to find. That was until you came across the man with half his face scorched off. You’d found him in a heap at the bottom of a mountain and were shocked when you noticed his shallow breaths.

You didn’t know why you felt the need to stop your travels for a week to nurse him back to health, but you did and when he was not insulting you or trying to start fights his roughness started to slip. 'Did you see a girl dressed as a boy? Brown hair, face like a pinched arse, a tiny needle of a sword. Goes by Arry.' Arya. Your sister was alive. You had hope again.

Eventually the gods turned your fate. You may have lost the two guards Robb had sent with you in skirmishes, but you were left with Sandor and Edmure and eventually the brotherhood found you. With them came travels and with travels came Jon. Finally you had Jon back. Then Sansa too and with the hope Arya was out there you dared continue.

Meanwhile you had Edmure beside you the entire time. He backed all your decisions publicly and debated you in private but never to berate. He helped you heal the wounds you couldn’t reach and didn’t eat till he made sure you had your share. He was the rock securing your tie to reality.

You remember his reaction to meeting Daenerys Targaryen, first of her name. Its not her dragons we should fear. A woman who brings the Dothraki across the sea on the hope of a promise not given to her holds power. Her words hold power.

While Sansa was sceptical of her you felt yourself drawn to her. As time went on you began to view her as more of a friend than a foreign queen. You found yourself added to her small council. Despite Tyrion being her hand, it was you she turned to in her dilemma.

Then one day Jon barged into one of your chambers, insisting it could not wait a day longer. He forced Edmure to leave the chambers despite you insisting that the man who had become your husband could hear anything he had to say. 'Ned Stark was not our father sweet sister, but he was not a stranger either.' You felt the colour drain from your face as he spoke. 'Bran, he saw it, Lyanna Stark on her birthing bed. Twins in her arms. We had a mother sweet sister and a father too. Rhaegar Targaryen.'

Present

After he broke the news, you demanded he leave, not wanting him to speak another word till you could bare to tell Daenerys yourself. Then Edmure returned. As you told him everything Jon had revealed you felt your world spinning as Edmure sat silently taking it all in.

The feel of Edmures hands grabbing yours slowed your rant, your breathing steadying. “Breathe my love. It is going to be okay,”

“But what if its not?” You asked, a break in your voice.

You looked to the man that had kept you afloat during this war with wide eyes brimmed with tears. His hand gently moved to hold your face, “You are still you, my love. This does not need to change your world unless you choose it too. Your brother will back you; he always has. I am here for you love. We are safe, we will survive this,”

“What if she thinks us a threat?” You said, voice barely above a whisper, “Rober Baratheon would’ve murdered them in their cribs if he had got there in time to swing his hammer. What will she do to me?”

“She has shown you no signs of tyranny, no signs of madness. If you lie to her, scheme against her, she will know but even if ned Stark was not your father you still have his honour,” Edmure said, leaning to kiss your forward softly, “and you have me. I may not breath fire, but I would fight any dragon for you,”

You watched as Daenerys face turned as Jon told her the truth with you by his side. “If it were true, you would be the last living male Targaryen. Are you here to threaten my claim?” She asked, her face twisting into betrayal.

“No,” you said, finally speaking up in the silence, “Jon has no interest in the iron throne, do you brother?” You said, scared when he paused for a moment before agreeing with you.

Daenerys turned away, pacing to the fire in silence, “Leave us,” she said, her head raising to face Jon, “and do not speak a word of this to anyone. Swear it,”

“I swear it your grace,” Jon said, nodding his head solemnly before leaving.

As the door shut Daenerys finally turned to look at you, “I assume Edmure knows,” she said dryly, “Who else?”

“No one your grace,” you said, crossing the room to try come to her side but she backed away, “No one needs know if you don’t want them too. But you cannot deny you need a family,”

“I have my dragons,” she said, almost spitting the words before looking into the flames, “A woman told me once they would be my only children,” she said with a softer tone.

"When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east," you whispered back, having heard her tales of her first marriage many nights.

“When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves,” she said, her eyes not leaving the flickering flames, “I believe I will see my child when I die. The son a witch stole from me. The family I was told to dream about having as a child, gone. What is a queen with no heirs?” She said, finally looking from the flames. “If I was to name Jon my heir people would cross their fingers for the day I died. Your land has never cared much for their queens,”

You paused for a moment, thinking back to the talks you had with Edmure the night before. “There is another way your grace,” you said, moving over to sit in the armchair by the fire, Daenerys moving to the other, “The northerns have never liked to bend their knee to the south but what if you didn’t make them? Allow Jon to be king of the north, recognise Robbs kingship and his will naming Jon as his heir. No southern lord is going to fight for a bastard to sit the iron throne,”

Daenerys sat back in her chair, thinking over your words carefully, “And what of you? You would stay in the north to take the throne after him?”

You shook your head lightly, “No your grace. He may be my brother, but you are my queen. I will follow you south, fight your battles and die for you, if need be, serve however required,”

Daenerys paused, chuckling slightly under her breath, “Even as my heir?” She said, her eyes hard to read.

“Unless you have children,” you said but Daenerys just laughed and stood again.

“No. My dragons are my children. One of them is already dead. My womb has been cursed and the child bed is more dangerous than any battle ahead. Now I will not have children. But I will have an heir. An heir who will act as a delegate to the newly independent north. You,” she said, finally turning back to see you, “You shall be my heir and you shall rule when I am gone. Not your husband, not Jon. You,”

The feast announcing Daenerys decision was one of the last moments of joy for many before the long night. You sat at the head table, Daenerys on one side and Edmure on the other. He held your hand under the table, his thumb stroking over your hand. Jon sat on the other side of Daenerys; a shoddy silver crown placed on his head unlike the one Daenerys wore made of gold.

After the festivities you walked back to your chamber, slightly lightheaded from the wine but with Edmures arm wrapped around yours to steady yourself. “One day you will be a queen,” he hummed, smiling down at you, “The title suits me,”

“Hopefully not for a long time,” you said, kissing his cheek as you stumbled to your chambers, “Excited about your future promotion?” You joked with a drunken grin.

He shook his head with a chuckle, “the title is yours not mine. I will not rule for you love for you will be my queen. Though I hope you will at least allow me on your council when the time comes,” he said as you turned into the corridor your chamber lay in.

“Of course,” you said, hugging his arm tighter, “You have always been my hand. Without you I am nothing,”

“No, my love,” he said as he unlatched the chamber door, “You are everything and more,” he said, kissing your lips softly in the chamber doorway. “Give me a moment to light the fire,”

As Edmure stoked the flames you began to slip out of your northern clothes, leaving them in a pile at the side of the bed and leaving only your shift on for coverage. You sat on the foot of the bed, watching as Edmure finally had the fire burning bright before he took his own outdoor clothing off.

“You look divine my love,” he said as he sat his neatly folded tunic on the armchair by the fire.  You held your hand out to him across the room, silently beckoning him over. Edmure did as you asked wordlessly, gently taking your hand and moving to stand between your legs. He bent down, pressing a slow soft kiss to your lips. Your hands rested on his shoulders, his cupping your jaw lightly before he stood up straight again, “It is time for rest my love,” he said, moving back to kick off his boots.

You shook your softly at him, a smile toying your lips, “We are celebrating tonight remember?” You said, standing so you could wrap your arms around his waist to pull him closer. His body, left with only his trousers, pressed flush against yours leaving no gaps between your skin. “Wont you celebrate with me, husband?” You asked, a teasing smile on your lips.

“I suppose some celebrating could be in order,” Edmure said with a light chuckle. He lifted your chin with his fingers, his head dipping to reconnect your lips. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders in an attempt to pull him closer somehow. You were breathless as Edmure walked you back till the backs of your thighs hit the bed frame. “Lay down my queen,” he said, panting as he pulled away from your lips.

“I am not queen yet,” you said, the wine making the idea more funny than terrifying. None the less you moved to lay on the bed, letting your shift bunch up to reveal more of your thighs.

Edmures eyes scanned your thighs, soaking in your frame. You couldn’t help but notice the outline in his trousers by this point but you did not protest as he began to crawl up the bed to you, kissing your calf then knee and up to your thighs, “Let me serve you my queen,” he said as he placed a kiss to your inner thigh, “You have always been my queen,”

Your breathing was ragged as you felt him kiss up your inner thighs, his breath fanning over your skin making it tingle. Your fingers ran over his hair, toying with it softly, “Serve me husband,” you said, aching for his mouth which was less than an inch from where you wanted it to be, “Serve your queen,” you inhaled sharply when you felt him place a soft kiss to your wet cunt, his lips moving up to place another wet kiss to your clit. Your fingers tugged his hair gently as he began to lick soft stripes up your cunt, his pressure increasing with each lick to tease the feeling. While you were usually the one doing the teasing Edmure wanted to make sure this was truly a celebration for you tonight as his tongue worked its wonders while his hands softly squeezed your thighs.

His mouth moved up, his focus turning to gently sucking your clit as curse words slipped from under your breath. His hand slipped from your thigh, slowly grazing over your skin till his fingers began to tease your hole. You moaned lightly when you felt his fingers slowly slipping in as he had practised many times with you over the years. You could feel your thighs tighten around his head and how he moaned sending vibrations through your wet cunt.

You could feel your body tightening, a knot forming in your stomach as Edmure began to hit your sweet spot, his fingers curling gently to hit closer with each move. “Yes,” you gasped, your fingers suddenly tightening in his hair, “Like that,” you said, your voice caught as your body tightened.

Edmure did exactly as he was told as he felt your thighs begin to twitch. Your body felt close to bursting till your orgasm spilled over you, your legs clamping around his head as your body tensed up, toes curling. Edmure did not attempt to remove his tongue or mouth as he let you ride out your wave, only moving when he felt your legs begin to release his head.

He came up for air, his face slick and an adoring smile on his face, “You truly are amazing,” he murmured, kissing your thigh before moving up to lay beside you.

You turned, trying to reach for his trousers to return the favour but Edmure caught your wrist, raising your hand up to his lips to kiss, “Not yet love. Catch your breath my queen,”

You laughed lightly at his words, “Are you always going to call me that?” You asked.

“Yes, for it will always be true,”

Taglist @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy @valeskafics

[ms-rampage]

Anything For Khaleesi

John "Soap" MacTavish x Fem Reader

Warnings: Smut. Language. Some fluff.

Word count: 4k

Author's note: I am a firm believer that Soap has a crush on Game of Thrones character Daenerys Targaryen (or Emilia Clarke in genral), and refers to her as his wife. So Y/n decides to exploit that crush. Also, lots of Game of Thrones talk, sorry to those who don’t watch the show. I had only recently started watching it myself. 😅😅😅

****

So you've been working with the 141 Task Force for not long, you're an operator. Ever since your arrival Soap had taken a liking to you, but of course he would never admit it.

He played it off as being friendly, since he's that way with everyone, but you were 100% sure he has a crush on you.

One time you were going to his room because he had borrowed some laundry detergent. Oh the irony, you hope he hadn't used all of it since you bought it in bulk and was expensive.

When you approached his quarters, you knocked on the door. "It's me!." you say before being allowed entry.

"It's open." you hear him respond.

You enter, and hear the sound of a dragon, and people screaming coming from his TV.

"Game of Thrones?." you ask, turning to look at what he's watching.

"Mhm." he hums, not looking away from the TV.

"Do you still have that laundry detergent I let you borrow last week?." you ask, turning to him, but his full attention is on the television.

"It's over there." he answers, motioning to the shelf behind you. Taking it from the shelf, needing to get some laundry done before you're stuck with piles of paperwork for the next few weeks.

"Catching up?." you ask him, on his status of the show.

"Rewatching." he replies, still not paying attention to you.

You could've walked into his room naked and he probably wouldn't even notice, or naked with a baby dragon on your shoulder.

"Your eyes are glued to that damn tv." you joked, trying to break his concentration.

To your surprise, he actually looks away from the TV to look at you.

"You watch the show?." he asks, sitting up slightly in his seat.

"I’ve only watched up until season 4. Mid season 4." you tell him, "Haven't caught up since."

He chuckles, "You're a few seasons behind lass." He has that cute little side smirk that made you fall for him, but you’d never tell him that. It would cause a lot of teasing from his end.

You sigh, "Yeah, I know, but I have laundry to do, I'll catch up at some point. I gotta get going, I’ll see you around.”

“See you later lass.” he says, before leaving his room.

Fast forward to several weeks later, a few weeks away from Halloween. You assumed no one dressed up for the day. The occasional decoration here and there, some candy, but nothing serious.

You chuckle, as you knock on his door, “You alright in there Soap?.” You don’t know, but he actually jumped as you knocked at his door.

Ghost scared you on a mere daily basis, especially when he would turn up unexpectedly as you walked down the hall. So that can count as a Halloween scare. Walking down the same hall as Soap’s quarters, which is in the same building as yours. You hear the sound of moaning coming from his room.

Getting up from his seat to open the door, “Y-yeah, I’m fine.” he says, trying to keep his cool, and himself collected.

“Alright, cause it sounds like you’re watching porn in there.” you joke which makes him turn red.

“I’m, uh, watching Game of Thrones.” he mutters, “It's at a-.”

“Sex scene?.” you finish his response, “I figured. Well I won’t interrupt, enjoy your sex scene.”

That response makes him laugh, “You’re welcome to come in, since you need to catch up on the show.”

You decided to take him up on his offer, “You know what? Sure, I’ll watch it with you.” That put a smile on his face.

You can’t tell, but he’s internally doing flips, and cartwheels because Soap does, in fact, have a crush on you. Gaz and Alex being the only ones who know this, Ghost doesn’t really interfere in that sort of thing, and Price suspects Soap has a thing for you, but not it being mutual.

“What season are you on?.” you ask him, taking a seat on his couch.

“Finishing up season 7.” he tells you, “Am I gonna rewatch it again? Yes.”

“I got to season 5.” you tell him, “So spoilers are ahead of me for this season.”

“I got you.” he grabs the remote, and changes the episode to season 5, “What episode?.”

“I believe episode 9.” you tell him, “I’m getting to that one.”

He changes it to season 5, episode 9. The Dance of Dragons. It gets to the part where they’re in the fighting pit, and the Sons of the Harpy are attacking, surrounding Daenerys, Missandei, Tyrion and Jorah, then Drogon comes to save them, taking Daenerys to safety.

“Daenerys and Missandei are totally in love with each other.” you say, “Either that, or they’re really really close friends.”

“Both, possibly?.” he says, “She’s had many lovers, Drogo, Daario, and spoiler, Jon Snow in the later seasons. If I had a woman like her, I’d never let her go.”

Now that makes you throw your head back in laughter, “You think you’d have a chance with the Mother of Dragons?.”

“Absolutely!.” he tells you in a matter of fact tone, “I would definitely have a chance with her.”

"You got a crush on her? Or Emilia Clarke?." you ask, shifting in your seat.

"Both." he responds, "She's my wife."

That really makes you holler out. He's ridiculous, and an idiot but he's your ridiculous idiot.

You two continued to watch the rest of season 5, then all of season 6, and you made your way into season 7. At some point you fell asleep with your head on his shoulder. He felt butterflies in his stomach seeing you asleep. You looked so cute, and he didn't want to move, not wanting to wake you. A whole episode later, you wake up. Forgetting where you were. “Shit.” you mutter, rubbing your eyes.

“Hey sleepy head.” he teases youu, “You missed a few episodes of season 6.”

"How long was I asleep for ?." you asked, sitting up.

"An hour, you missed half of episode 2, and the first half of episode 3." he tells you, "Or at least I think you did."

You checked the time on your phone, and it was starting to get late. "I should get going, it's after 11."

Soap checks the time on his phone, "Shit, we really did watch a whole season. Well I did at least you fell asleep".

You sleepily laugh at his comment, "Shut up." Followed by a yawn.

You both get up from the couch, he opens the door for you while you gather your things. "Goodnight." you tell him.

"G'night." he responds as he closes the door.

A few days later, you're in your room doing some paperwork, taking a minute or 2 away from it. You search online for any Daenerys Targaryen outfits and a silver wig. You wanted to test the waters and see how Soap would react to you dressed as his so-called 'wife'.

You found a few of them, you were wondering what outfit would he like the most.

You settled with the blue dress she had worn season 3.

The silvery blonde wig, you wanted it to be real hair so it'll be easier to braid, but synthetic hair is slightly cheaper, and nearly similar. So that is what you went with. You ordered the dress, shoes, the wig and other accessories. Making sure you got the right size and measurements, even if it was a little big, you can always hem it, but if it was too small then you'd have to DIY your own dress after spending so much money on the one you purchased for one day, or somehow lose a ton of weight for it to fit.

With Halloween being a few weeks away, you hope it came sooner rather than at the last minute.

A week passed, and your items had arrived. You went to check for your mail, and everything came in a box. You looked like a gremlin going from the mailroom to your quarters with a semi large box in your hands.

Making it back to your room, you open the box and the dress is beautiful, from looking at it. It looks like it'll fit you.

The silvery blonde wig, now it won't suit you, but hey, it's only a costume, not a permanent look.

You had it prepared, and ready for Halloween, the wig you kept on a lamp that you never used. You hoped no one saw it, so you kept it at the far corner of your room covered by a stack of boxes.

You and Gaz were hanging out in the base's lounge area.

"Does anyone ever dress up for Halloween?."you ask him.

"Not really, with Ghost wearing his mask all the time, it feels like Halloween all the time." he tells you.

You let out a soft laugh, "Yeah, I can imagine."

"Price and Laswell usually have bowls of candy here and there, but nothing too major." he continues. "Why? Are you planning on dressing up?."

You shrug, as if you didn't spend money on a silvery blonde wig and a dress, "Probably not, wouldn't know what to dress up as anyway."

Some time later you walk down the hallway towards your room, and surprise, it's Soap man coming from the opposite direction.

"Y/n!." he calls out.

"Hey." you greet back to him.

"Haven't seen you for a while." he tells you, "Laswell keeping you busy?."

You let out a soft chuckle, "Yeah, she's been keeping me busy. Paperwork that I still need to get done."

"I'll let you get back to it." he tells you, hand on your shoulder. "See you around."

And that day has come, Halloween. 7am. You took a shower before getting dressed, you put on a little bit of makeup before you got dressed. You carefully put the blue dress on, so it wouldn't get stained by your makeup. The cloak that came with the dress, the dark pants and boots.

This could be an everyday outfit for you, without the cloak though.

Finally, the wig, you had styled it the night before. Taking 2 small pieces of the hair making it into one braid, then taking 2 more pieces and making them into one braid. It sounds complicated, but the image helps out when doing it.

Luckily the wig came with a bald cap, keeping your actual hair away, and in place.

Having the whole outfit intact, you almost didn't want to look in the mirror out of embarrassment, but when you did, your whole face turned red.

"Oh my god." you hold back your laughter, one hand over your mouth. This color of hair did not suit you.

"Oh fuck, Y/n. What are you doing?." you tell yourself. Oh that's right, you wanna know if Soap actually has feelings for you, and so you dress up as The Mother of Dragons, Daenerys Targaryen for this holiday to get a reaction out of him.

Just go about your day, don't even acknowledge the fact you're wearing a very silvery blonde wig. It suits Emilia Clarke, but not you.

You gather your stuff and go on with your regular route on base. Soap probably isn't in his room, he's probably in his office, or chatting with the other members of the 141.

Your regular route involves going by Captain Price's office, and so you made a quick stop at his office. He's usually there, plus you had to give him some files that Laswell had you working on the past week.

Once you get to his office door you knock on it even though it's open slightly.

"Come in." he responds, looking down as he fills out some paperwork.

"Captain, I have the paperwork Laswell wanted me to give to you once I finished." you tell him as you enter.

"Set them down Y/n." he tells you. Setting them down on his desk.

"Was there anything else Laswell wanted me to do for you?." you ask him, still waiting for him to look up at you in this ridiculous wig and blue dress.

He sighs, "No, not that I-." He cuts himself off when he sees you in this costume. "Know of." He lets out a breathy chuckle that makes you burn red.

"Did you attend to the dragons, Khaleesi?." he asks in a joking matter, but playing along with whatever is it that you're doing.

You can't help but burst into laughter, "I did, and they're growing everyday. Soon they'll be able to feed themselves."

You both share a laugh for a few seconds.

"I think you're the only one who dressed up." he tells you. "That's if the others dress up."

"I would say Ghost too, but then he looks like that all the time." you tell him. "I think it'll be a tied costume contest if there's one."

You two chat for a bit, getting a few compliments from a few other soldiers walking by.

"Soap is gonna lose his mind when he sees you." Price tells you, "I know you and him are fans of the show."

"I'll know it when he sees me." you tell him, "I'll see you around Captain."

You continued down the hall, your usual route that you do everyday. You hear Gaz and Soap's voices coming from the lounge area. You stop in your tracks, fix your dress, and wig before proceeding.

Soap sat with his back to you while Gaz turned his head as you walked in.

"Hey guys." you greet them as you walk in. Keeping your cool, and trying to act like you're not wearing a costume.

"Uhh hey, Y/n." Gaz greets back. Soap hasn't looked at you until you sat in the chair in front of him.

"Hey Soap." you say, taking a seat in the chair across from home, looking through a book that is on the table in front of you.

"Hey Y/-." he stops as he is completely hypnotized by your appearance. Hand placed over his mouth. You can't tell if he's laughing, or crying, or both.

But his change of mood, makes you do the same.

"What?." you ask, putting on an innocent tone "What's wrong??."

"What are you doing?." he asks, if you didn't know any better you can tell his eyes were heart shaped right now.

"I'm doing anything." you say innocently. "Just reading." You flip through a page in the book you're 'reading'.

He knows what game you're playing, and it's a dangerous one. "You're a tease. You know that lass." he tells you before getting up from his seat and leaves.

"Am I a tease?." you ask Gaz.

"You planned this? Didn't you." he answers your question with a question.

"In a way." you respond. "Didn't mean to give him an awkward boner.". Making you two laugh.

Towards the end of the day, you've gotten many compliments on your costume. Hell, even Ghost complimented you, it's not unusual, but somewhat rare.

You're heading back to your room, right when you pass Soap's room his door immediately swings open, and he pulls you in. You didn't even have time to process what just happened, it was very quick.

Locking the door the second you're in. Pinning you against the door, both his hands on either side of your head. Your hands are down to your sides, flat against the door.

"You cheeky little minx, you thought I wouldn't notice lass." He tells you, his eyes dark and feral.

"I don't know what you're talking about Johnny." you tell him still playing the innocent card. His face inches away from yours.

"I think you do." he whispers in your ear, his whole body pinned against yours. You can tell your cheeks are red by the burning sensation you feel. Feeling a slight poke at your inner thigh.

"You wanted to get a raise out of me, did ya?." he growls, moving a strain of hair from the wig out your face.

A smirk now on your lips, "I know how to get you. It's quite easy."

One of his hands snakes to the back of your neck, the other on your waist. A growl comes from the back of his throat, "You know how to get me going, especially dressed like this."

His lips clash with yours, a moan escapes your mouth. One of your legs snakes around one of his. Both your hands on his shoulders.

His kisses are rough, and aggressive. His hand squeezes the back of your neck. Making your legs weak. Seeing this, he grabs you by your thighs and lifts you up. Carrying you towards his bed, dropping you onto the bed, breaking the kiss, letting you catch your breath.

"Fuck." you pant, biting your lip, looking up at him. He chuckles looking down at you, pressing his forehead against yours.

"Gotcha where I want you Khaleesi." he says with an exhale, before kissing you again. His lips hungry, and wanting more of you.

You hand trails up his shirt, he grabs your hand, stopping you from going further.

"Not so fast." he chuckles, breaking the kiss, "Since you decided to tease me. You're gonna take it like a whore."

His words made you wet down there. You can feel it. You love this feral side of Soap.

"Strip." he commands you, taking a few steps back to give you some space.

You start with the shoes, once those were off you got to the pants, lifting up the dress slightly to remove them.

Once those are off. You unclipped the cloak, tossing it aside, same with the necklace. You stop for a moment.

His eyes still dark, even more dark than from a few minutes ago. "I didn't tell you to stop, did I?."

"No." you mutter in a soft, naive tone. Grabbing the dress but it's hem, you pull it up and over your head. Your bra and panties, matching the same color as the dress. You notice the bulge in Soap's pants.

You're about to remove your wig when his words stop you.

"Leave the wig on." he orders you. There you are standing in your sargeant's room in your matching bra and panties on Halloween. He can't help, but take in your beauty. He's had a crush on from the day he met you. The only thing in common you two have is this damn show, probably other things too.

"You're.. so beautiful." he tells you, feeling butterflies in his stomach. Cupping both your cheeks, and placing another kiss on your lips. Your hands gently touch his neck, one of them, tracing down to his pants.

His movements are fast, he quickly spins you around, forcing you to bend over on his bed. Knocking the wind out of you. "Shit." you mutter under your breath.

You hear the sound of his belt being undone, followed by a zipper. His rough, calloused hand giving you smack on your left ass cheek causing you to yelp.

He yanks down your panties, the only thing that was covering how wet you are. Running two of his fingers down your wet folds.

"Khaleesi, wet for me already, huh?." he teases, followed by a chuckle and him sucking on his fingers. You feel the tip of cock, teasing your entrance. Causing you to whimper and squirm.

One of his hands gripping your shoulder to keep you place, while the other is on your hip. Enjoying how you try to get away from him.

"Just like how the Dothraki fuck their women, huh?." he whispers in your ear, forcing his cock into your wet core.

"Fuck!." you exclaim, grabbing the bed sheet as he rocks his hips against yours. "Oh. Fuck."

Letting you adjust to his cock before pulling down, and shoving it inside you at a more aggressive pace. Your tight walls squeezing his cock as you push yourself back against him. Back arched.

Abusing your poor hole, stretching you out completely. You feel him put his hand on your stomach.

He chuckles, "Looks like I'm inside you, lass." Going back to his fast, rough pace.

You're holding onto his blanket for dear life, balling it up to muffle your screams into. He was ready to get you to cum over and over for the rest of the night.

Once he's done abusing your back hole, he turns you over onto your back. Both of you are sweaty, and out of breath, but he was determined to get you to cum.

Somehow your wig stayed on during all that. He kicks his shoes off, shirt already gone as well as his pants, and boxers. He stood naked before you, while the knky article of clothing you had on was your bra.

Trying to catch your breath, he attacks your neck with bites, and soothes them with kisses. Leaving his mark on you.

"Johnny, please." you beg, feeling your makeup run from the sweating you're doing.

A shit eating grin on his face with one hand on your waist, "Please what doll?."

You let out a pathetic moan, "Please fuck me."

Letting out a devious little chuckle, "Anything for Khaleesi."

He lines himself up with your soaked velvety entrance, and shoves himself in you. Pinning you down, grabbing both your wrists with one hand while the other remained on your waist, giving him a better advantage to rearrange your insides.

"Fuck." you cry, arching your back.

"You take me so well baby." he groans, snapping his hips back and forth against yours. "You know how to get me going."

Hoping no one hears the pathetic noises you're making, but at the same time you wouldn't really care, especially if he was making you feel this good.

You begin to feel yourself come undone.

"Fuck.. J-Johnny." you whimper, "I need to-." Followed by the most pathetic whimper you've ever produced.

"C'mon lass, use your words." he teases you yet again.

"I need to… cum." you cry, tears running down your face, "Please.". Your toes curling, feeling like you're losing control of your limbs.

"I want to cum with you." he tells you, one hand on the back of your neck again, "Together, can you do that for me?."

You let out an incoherent moan.

"Use your words, love." he places a kiss on your forehead that turns you into putty.

"Y-yes, Johnny.. I can." you try your best to mutter out. He continues to fuck you at an aggressive and rough pace, like he's trying to catch up with your euphoric climax. By the time he knows it, he's ready to release himself.

"Where?." he asks, holding back until you give him permission where to release himself.

"Inside.. please." you plead.

He raises his eyebrows, "You sure?."

Nodding, "Yes, please."

His movements become sloppy, and start to slow down. "Please, I need to-." you beg yet again.

"With me, my love." he tells you, foreheads touching. You both cum at the same time. The feeling of release, makes the both of you nearly pass out of pleasure. Soap drops himself on top of you. Breathing heavily, sweaty and needing to take a shower.

"You okay love?." he checks on you, moving the strain of wig hair out of your face.

"Yeah, I'm fine." you respond, "You were amazing." Bringing a smile to his face, "You were better.". He places another kiss on your lips. He takes in the image in front of him.

You naked in bed with him, and dressed as the Mother of Dragons, or what is remaining of your clothes.

"I'm not sure how this wig stayed on during all that." you joked, taking it off for a second to fix it. Soap laughs at the fact you're wearing a bald cap to keep your actual hair intact.

"Nice bald cap lass." more teasing from the Soap man.

You let out a soft chuckle, before putting it back on "Shut up."

You two proceeded to stay in bed a little longer before showering, but you two ended up staying in bed for the rest of the night.

[evax3]

AND NOW MY WATCH BEGINS

– CHAPTER 5, TEASER

No one comes forth to bar their way. Castle Black seems as much a ruin as Greyguard, where they'd come down after climbing the Wall. Looking up, he tries to make out if sentries are walking the seven hundred feet above, but he sees no one on the huge switchback stair, scrambling up the south face of the ice.

Where is everybody?

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Dead Girl Walking

Pairing(s): Jon Snow x Stark!Reader, Ned Stark x Catelyn Tully, refereneced!Rhaegar Targaryen x Lyanna Stark

Warnings: none

Words: 2086

Summary: If this could possibly be your last night alive, you wanted to make it worthwhile.

They were coming.

Arya and Sansa flagged either side of you, knowing that battle would be upon you soon. Maybe that night or tomorrow, the Night King’s army was drawing closer.

Winterfell had fallen onto your shoulders after your eldest brother was beheaded. When you took back your home during the Battle of the Bastards, the northern men that remained named you their queen.

No longer were the Starks scattered throughout Westeros. They were where they truly belonged: in the north. Fewer in numbers, but finally together.

Below the parapet you stood on, men and women alike were preparing themselves to fight for their lives. Surprisingly, their hustle and bustle soothed your nerves. Unsullied, Wildlings, Dothraki and noble blood laike were united. And despite the thumping of boots against stone, the night was otherwise calm and quiet. The fire at your back warmed you.

In a nervous tick, you hold the pommel of your sword. You hoped this wouldn’t be your last battle.

“Practice your dance moves while you still can.” You address Arya who nods and leaves to do just that. She had trained with the Faceless Men in Braavos; you hoped that would be enough to keep her alive. Leaving just you and Sansa alone. You didn’t want to scare her, but you needed to tell her the truth of things. “I may not make it out alive.”

Immediately she opens her mouth to protest but you silence her.

“It’s something that can very well happen. I want you to know now that if I am to die in battle, I want you to take my place as Queen of the North.” You took off the metal circlet that had been comfortably lying atop of your head. It had caused quite the argument between you and the Dragon Queen Daenerys. Even though she had accepted the north as its own separate dominion, she still didn’t like the crown on your head.It made her feel insecure. In a land where the people adored you and obviously didn’t trust her, Daenerys knew that the people were your’s. “This would look far better on you anyway.”

Sansa swallowed back whatever protest that had been sitting on her tongue. “You’ve been through worse battles than this.”

Unable to catch your laugh, you shake your head. “Never against the dead. The living are an easier foe.”

Clinking of metal behind you makes you turn. Sansa smiles fondly at the semi-armored direwolf. “Even Storm is ready for battle.” Sansa muses. Your dark gray direwolf was missing an eye from the bloody battle against Ramsay. It made her appear even more deadly than she already was. She towered over her albino brother Ghost and even some of the soldiers. The days when they were both playful puppies were long gone. Nostalgia grips you when you remembered how you and your siblings sat in a circle and picked your direwolf pups. Of course the odd looking one went to your bastard brother Jon. The albino pup had garnered your attention until Storm had stumble up to you in the most adorable fashion. She had chosen you. Out of all of your siblings, Storm wanted you as her partner in crime. From that moment you knew the two of you would be together until the very end.

And the end was probably creeping up.

As a child you had always been fearful, the kind of child that got scared over the smallest creature. Theon teased you relentlessly. Jon took the job upon himself to become your protector during such times. He would go after Theon with his sword and tend to you in an attempt to make you feel better. Thanks to Jon, he helped you learn how to be brave and not be so scared of the world around you.

You needed a little bit more help in remembering what it felt like to be brave. This was something your father had always warned you about. Winter had arrived and with it the Night King’s crusade. All of Old Nan’s tales were coming true.

Excusing yourself from Sansa’s side, you delve into the castle that was now completely your’s to control and protect. Old and ancient halls where you, Robb, and Jon would run through in the early years before Sansa and your younger siblings were born. Bruising knees on the hard stone when one of you fell down, the other two were always there to help their fallen sibling back up.

You passed the Great Hall where many were gathered, talking quietly amongst one another. Wine was being handed out to anyone who looked nervous. Liquid courage and perhaps the last sweet thing they may taste.

Some of the wildlings and Dothraki men were talking loudly, boisterous laughs echoing even though there was a language barrier. Drinking certified them as comrades in arms. The sight was enough to make you smile at least for a little bit.

Daenerys may have been gracious enough to loan you her army fro the time being, but it was you that made the Dragon Queen’s men and your own get along. The merging of Westeros and Essos. That was you. Something Robb was never able to do was keep his army together.

You inhale sharply and shake your head free of those thoughts that were best left in the grave. Yet your ears continued to grow numb to sound reducing you to stumbling about like a drunk until you finally made it to the family crypt. Your ever loyal Storm followed you down the tight stairs, making sure you didn’t fall. The musky smell of the crypts took the edge off of you as you entered the final resting place of your family. It was quiet and glowed warmly from the torches, revealing that there was one other living person already there in front of your father’s statue.

A man who turned out wasn’t Jon’s father. It must have been bittersweet for Jon to discover his true parentage.

“How fortuitous that you’re down here right when I need you most.” You smile shyly at Jon.

His lips turn up gently. “Something told me that I should come down here.” Ghost pokes his head from around the corner, red eyes two beacons of light. “Or rather someone. Besides, you used to come down here when you were younger. Something about it being quiet soothed you. For a child that was scared of everything, the crypts have never been a problem for you.”

“I felt like our ancestors were protecting me. Like they each gave me a piece of their courage.” The stoney face of Ned Stark looked down on you and Jon. Looking at the carved details of his face made you fill with sorrow. “I just wish Robb and mother could have been buried here too. . .”

“They may not be physically here, but their spirit is.” With the small amount of light offered to you, you catch sight of the scars on Jon’s face. Faint silver lines that told the story of his life at Castle black. They oddly suited him and his often serious expression. Catelyn may have never loved Jon, but Robb loved him just as much as Bran or Rickon. As hard as you searched his face, you just couldn’t see any Targaryen traits. Even if his father had been Rhaegar, Jon was of the north. The Stark in his veins was enough to overwhelm the Targaryen.

Gingerly, Jon wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you against his side. You focused on his warmth, the desires of your heart starting to become louder. There had always been an unspoken bond between you and Jon. Neither of you spoke of it out loud, afraid that even speaking of it would bring ruin to the both of you.

But he wasn’t by blood your brother. The truth was out.

Cheeks feeling warm, you take a step away from him. You laugh a little bit at yourself. “What kind of queen am I to show my fear? Mother would never have let her cards slip so easily. Sansa reminds me so much of her now. . .”

“You’re only human. You fear losing your home and people you love. You’re a good queen (y/n). Lord Ned would be proud of you and all that you have done. Winterfell once again belongs to the Starks because of you.” Dark eyes delve deep into you, eyes that wanted to let you know that everything would be okay and if not, well, Jon would stay by your side just like Storm. Until the very end. In the face of Daenerys Targaryen, Jon had to refer to her as queen; it was clear to all though that his real queen was you. He would not forsake you. Now now, not ever. Besides Robb, no man had ever loved you quite as much as Jon did.

Reaching your arms up, you cup his face with your palms. Easily Jon lets his face fall into your hands, nuzzling his nose into your touch. How easily Jon trusted you and put down his walls.

You wanted to hold him, place your head against his strong chest. Like you did when you went to the Wall to ask for his help. Years apart had changed you both greatly yet Jon’s arms still felt the same from when you had last embraced him.

Perhaps it was too bold of you, but being with Jon made you feel bolder; You sprung up on your toes and kiss. To finally kiss him after years of longing and confusion. If you were to die, you wanted to do so without any regrets. You wanted to let Jon know just how much you loved him and how you had never stopped. Relief had washed over you the moment Jon revealed what he had learned from Sam. That he wasn’t your half-brother which would still be looked down upon in the north if you were to have any sort of romantic relationship with him. Cousins were commonly married to one another.

Surprise took him as he slipped backward a little bit, but Lord Eddard Stark’s statue was enough to keep him up. It didn’t take long for him to melt against you. If you were to die, you wanted Jon to be the last thing you tasted.

Targaryen and Stark, perhaps the pair were always inevitable. The dragons had conquered the north centuries before, but had still been able to respect Torrhen Stark by giving him the title of Warden.

In his eyes you saw no dragon or wolf. You just saw Jon. Your Jon that you had known since you were a babe. Your best friend, your confidant, the one you had loved since you were a girl.

As he pulled away, stars filled his gaze as he breathed heavily.

“I love you Jon. More than a brother. More than a cousin. More than any man I have ever known.” You lower your gaze, feeling the sun in your cheeks. “If. . . If we are all to die tonight-”

Jon abruptly grabs your face and once again you’re kissing him. “We will live to see the sun rise. Not much good has prospered for me being half Targaryen, except for one thing.” To your utter shock, Jon bent down on one knee while still holding your hand. “My Queen, if you would have me it would be my honor to stand beside you for the rest of my life and after.”

You wanted to slap him initially for taking so long to propose, but you went with your second reaction: you threw yourself against him in an embrace. Both of your winter pelts smooshing against the other. “And how long have you been sitting on those words?”

Chuckling, Jon holds onto you as Storm and Ghost watch. “For years. It was never feasible until now.” You knew he could hear your heart beating fiercely. “We have no choice but to defeat the White Walkers now.”

Yes, you wouldn’t let the Night King take this one great joy away from you. For your future with Jon, you had to be brave. You would be brave. Jon had always been a source of courage for you.

The next kiss you gave him was of a different nature. Seductive and enticing, sweeter than any honey. You still wanted a taste. “Are you opposed to escorting me to my chambers?”

A boyish smile makes your chest flutter. “Of course, Your Grace.”

[ashleyfanfic]

Thank you for the NSFW recs! When you have the time, I would love to hear your favourite Jonerys slowburn fics 🔥

Oh slow burn. Alright, so full confession, I usually don't have the time for slow burn. It's infuriating sometimes because I'm like FUCKING KISS EACH OTHER and then they don't and it makes my anxiety fucking sky rocket!

BUUUUUT that isn't to say that there aren't fics out there that nail it to me. This is a small list of fics off the top of my head. Granted, most of these are modern AU because I guess, as a whole, this fandom just decided we're just gonna make them fuck right off the bat cause they both deserve it. I mean, there are a few that canon divergent - but show/book Jon/Dany deserved to fuck each other until they collapse. So, with that in mind, here they are in no particular order: (M for modern AU - C for canon divergent) Westeros' Most Eligible Bachelor by @muttpeeta - M After one too many public scandals, Prince Jon Targaryen agrees to be the new star of "Westeros' Most Eligible Bachelor." He just wants to clean up his act and change the public's perception of him as the black sheep of the family, but he might just get more than he bargained for. Enter contestant: Daenerys Targaryen. His aunt.

You Can Never Be Mine by @muttpeeta - C Jon Snow knows it's wrong to covet what his brother has. He's never begrudged Robb Stark his title or his claim as the heir to Winterfell. But when Daenerys is taken in as Lord Stark's ward and betrothed to Robb, Jon's honor is tested in a way he never expected.

Desirable Business by @dracoignisworld and @dragonanddirewolf - M - In 1960's New York, creative director Jon Snow is faced with a challenge. His new secretary Daenerys is everything he is not; kind, friendly and innocent. With her around the office, he finds it hard to distinguish between reality and his fantasies. There can be consequences to desiring someone you should not have.

Written in the Scars on This Heart by @jalenmara and @notpmahlem - M - Daenerys Targaryen, supermodel and face of House Targaryen, a rising star in the world of Fashion, is commonly known as the most beautiful woman in the world. And someone wants her dead. Jon Snow, running from the ghosts of his own past, lands the job any man would kill for— protecting her. But can he protect his own heart from her?

Where the Wild Things Are by @stilesssolo - M - Daenerys Targaryen has fought tooth and nail to get to the high-ranking position she has at Tyrell Outdoor Recreational Equipment, Inc, doing everything within her power to help the planet along the way. Jon Snow has a dog with over two million instagram followers, despite the fact that he can't figure out how to work the app to save his life. When sales drop enough to threaten Tyrell's environment-saving programs, Daenerys is determined to find influencers that can turn the tides for her company. And she has her eye on Jon. Or, well— technically, Ghost.

Her Life, Her Death by magicmoon11 - C - Swayed by the powerful words of a dying queen, Stannis Baratheon takes in baby Daenerys Targaryen as his ward. In the North, Eddard Stark is ordered to raise Jon Snow to wed and dishonor the Targaryen princess, by bringing bastard blood into her line, and ending the Dragons forever. Across the continent, and across the Narrow Sea, the wheel continues to turn, and the Great Game commences. Thus begins a series of events that would change the fate of Westeros forever. Familial relationship between gruff Stannis and his ward. Eventual Jon x Dany.

The Oasis - @fierypen37 - M - With uptight and stressed CEO Daenerys Targaryen's regular masseur on leave, she has to make do with the replacement Jon Snow. Relaxation is not something she can find with his hands on her. Too bad he doesn't feel the same. Except unbeknownst to her, he definitely does. When a threat on her life pushes them together, they must both learn to deal with their growing feelings.

[duckyhowls]

Game of Thrones Masterlist

A collection of one-shots dedicated to George R.R. Martin’s world of ‘A Game of Thrones’. The tales of legend have entertained the world for years. This collection contains the romance retold from the Eddas, the secret tales of ‘A Game of Thrones’ and its ancient world. Following the deeds of powerful men and women such as Aegon the Conqueror, The Kingslayer, and even the Green Queen, and filled with a host of fantastic creatures - dragons, basilisks, etc. - and objects containing myth - Dark Sister, Widows Wail, etc. - that will conjure up a world of heroism and romance that will enthrall you. 

𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 ��𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍

Obsession - maegor the cruel x stark!OC (COMING SOON)

Just His Servant - maegor the cruel x servant!OC (COMING SOON)

The Rogue - aegon the conqueror x dragon rider!OC (COMING SOON)

Traveller - aegon the conqueror x nomad!OC (COMING SOON)

Warlord - visenya t. x dragon rider! queen!OC (COMING SOON)

𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍

Boneless - daemon t. x crippled!niece!OC (COMING SOON)

Childhood - daemon t. x servant!OC (COMING SOON)

I’m A Poet - aegon ii t. x niece!strong!OC (COMING SOON)

The Flower - aegon ii t. x OC ModernAU (COMING SOON)

Pretty Questions - aemond t. x lannister!OC (COMING SOON)

Like A Cat - aemond t. x stark!OC (COMING SOON)

Secret - aemond t. x neice!OC x aegon ii t. (COMING SOON)

Bones - alicent h. x ghost!fem!celtigar!OC (COMING SOON)

Prince - alicent h. x prince!targaryen!OC (COMING SOON)

Diamonds - rhaenyra t. x lannister!fem!OC (COMING SOON)

𝐀 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄

Queen - daenerys t. x baratheon (lannister)!OC

The young queen, Mercia Baratheon, is the last living heir to King Robert after all three of her siblings die horrible deaths. As the Seven Kingdoms are on the brink of collapse, Mercia does all she can to hold it all together - though struggles arrive when the Long Night draws near, and The Dragon Queen comes for her throne. But perhaps there is a compromise they can arrange?

A Caged Bird - viserys t. x slave!OC (COMING SOON)

Unsteady - jaime l. x targaryen!OC (COMING SOON)

Sorcery - cersei l. x witch!OC (COMING SOON)

[mags-writes]

Part 2: Frozen Pines - Gendrya

Summary: Gendry isn't dead?

Warnings: Canon-level violence, canon-level angst, canon-level swearing

Pairing: Gendry Waters/Baratheon x Arya Stark

Length: 2.9k words

Masterlist || The Night We Met || Frozen Pines || Meet Me In The Woods || Love Like Ghosts

I wake up in the morning, oh and I don't know where I've been all alone on a mountainside and huddled in the wind

Daenerys Targaryen was a striking beauty. Bold purple eyes shimmering like the sharpest cut gemstones and silvery hair that seemed to glow like fresh snow. She had seen the hair in Bravos on the heads of what was left of old Valyria in Essos and the eyes were just as common but both in Daenerys before her in the dark walled castle of Winterfell was almost hard to look at. She blazed like a fire in the darkness of the room but there was no warmth. A Queen was standing before them, the blood of old Valyria at its full strength with some of the smartest and most loyal minds advising her. Anyone in the world would be lying to themselves if they said they weren't intimidated by her presence so Arya didn't bother. That Northern pride in her -the Stark in her, the wolf in her- wouldn't give itself up so easily but Arya forced herself to at least smile at the Queen while Sansa got on with business.

"Arya has been fortifying the castle, training the guards herself even, and making sure we have the utmost security throughout the entire castle and its grounds." Sansa reported proudly to the council before her. "Thanks to her there will be no chance of any assassination attempts on any of us no matter how talented they think they are."

"Cersei swore to our cause. We shouldn't assume she would go back on her word." Came from Jon.

"The day I trust that golden-haired bitch again is the day my corpse has entered the final stages of decay in the crypts." Sansa didn't even bother looking at Jon when she spoke the words and Arya tried and failed to suppress a smile at the slight shock from the Queen's side of the council.

"Lady Arya's efforts are appreciated in these uncertain times." Daenerys lets out in an attempt to break the tension and gives Arya a politician's smile.

"If it pleases you, your grace, just Arya will do." Arya bows her head in respect with her own slight smile. "I've never been able to be a lady. My father said I'm much too alike to my aunt."

The comment at the end to anyone else would seem harmless coming from Arya but it made Daenerys flinch slightly. Arya's pride was satisfied.

The meeting proceeded with a few disagreements here and there. But then came the dragonglass. They had more than enough to equip their whole army but whether or not they could make it fast enough was a topic that was causing them all to worry. Arya knew of one smithy that could do it all with no problem and could make it beautiful while he was at it, but that wasn't the case.

"Can you guarantee that every soldier will have the weapons they need by the time the army of the dead get here?" The spider, Varys, asks in his usual slow and accusatory tone.

"Gendry has assured me that he can get it done with the help that he has." Jon answered. It made Arya frown and tilt her head at him, her heart skipping in her chest at the name. "Especially with the added talents of the Dothraki and Unsullied." There was a knock at the door and Jon moved from his position. "That should be him now with an update."

Arya's eyes widened and she caught Sansa's curious gaze. She didn't have any time to give her an explanation because the door was open and Jon was greeting the man. Arya's heart didn't skip this time, it damn near stopped dead.

"Gendry, you have good news?" Jon asked.

"Aye, your grace, I-" Gendry froze when Jon moved to his side to walk him further into the room.

Arya had stopped breathing. "Gendry?" She choked out.

"Arry?" He gets out before Arya launches herself at him at full speed.

He grunts when she makes contact but picks her up and holds her tight. Arya feels like she's seeing stars, like she's in the clouds, like she was immortal, deathless, and flying all at once. He smelled like a Northern wind, like steel, and sweat and soot, like he had been working. There was even a hint of horse in there making her smile even more.

"You-you were dead," She spoke into his shoulder before pulling back and beaming as bright as the sun up at him. "You were gone, you... You cut your hair?"

They giggled, their eyes crinkling at the edges their smiles were so wide.

"You thought I was dead? Arry, no one has heard from you in years." They were holding each other's hands, grasping tightly as if they were going to disappear again.

"No one has heard from me since before we left Kingslanding. What makes you think that was going to change?"

The sound of Jon clearing his throat made them look away from each other, Gendry loosened his grip on her hands slightly so Arya reluctantly let him go but stayed close in his space.

"Do you need some water, my lord?" She asked with a purposely snarky tone.

"How do you two know each other?" Jon asks, an accusatory glare directed at Gendry.

"When father was executed, Yorren found me, cut my hair to look like a boy, and put me in the group of what was supposed to be recruits for the Night's Watch." She looked back to Gendry, who was dutifully not making eye contact with Jon or anyone else in the room but her. "Gendry stood up for me. He protected me before I told him I was a girl and every moment after."

"I was only doing the right thing, your grace." Gendry deflected making Arya violently roll her eyes.

"Yes, yes, and the right thing to do just happened to be the noble thing to do." She lightly hits his chest with the back of her hand. "Seven hells, Bull, take the compliment."

"Bull?" Asked Sansa, she had a small smile, like she found this whole interaction amusing.

"He's a stubborn ass that charges headfirst into a fight." Arya answers easily.

Gendry sighed, giving Arya an unimpressed look.

"I had a helmet in the shape of a bull's head that I made myself." He gave her a pointed look that had her lightly shrugging. "That's why she calls me that."

"And because you're stubborn." She insisted lightly, bantering like they used to. "You can't fight me on that."

He went to argue before stopping himself and facing the others. "No, m'lady, I can't."

Arya's face dropped completely, making Sansa let out the slightest of chuckles.

"Don't call me that." Arya felt the blood rush to her face like she was a child again, facing the others as well.

"As you wish, m'lady." Stubborn ass. Gendry takes a peak at her and they both have to stop the wide smiles spreading on their face.

"Don't you have smithy things to talk about?" She shook her head, now pretending to try and ignore him by going back to the table they were all standing around with maps.

The conversation flowed from there, Gendry assuring that with all the new help, despite the language barrier with some of them, he'd get everything done on time for the estimated date of the war. Obviously, they didn't have an exact date for when they would be attacked. Bran was keeping a watchful eye on the movements but he couldn't keep it up all the time. Jon explained that Bran was a Warg, a person with the ability to enter the minds of animals, see through their eyes, and control their movements. Bran told him that he's also this Three Eyed Raven but it took a toll. Not only can Bran take control of animals at a great distance to keep an eye on the white walker's movements but he also has the ability to sift through all the events throughout time.

Arya spent time with men who carved faces from people and magically altered their very being to fit that face. They altered their entire psyche around being an empty vessel to be filled and trained their bodies to be the ultimate weapon. Bran being a Warg was not unbelievable.

Arya was carrying and balancing two plates of food on one arm and holding a cup of mead in the other. She walked into the main forge where Jon had told her Gendry was working and was greeted with the warmth of the fire. There stood the very man, sleeves rolled up, covered in soot, and sweating up a storm. Arya swallowed hard at the sight, a sight she hadn't seen for years and she wasn't complaining about it.

Gendry looked up from a dragonglass axe he was inspecting, surprise filling him at her standing there before him. He still couldn't believe she was so near him, just a few floors up behind stone, safe and sound in the castle she was born and raised in.

"What are you doing here?" He calls out.

Arya blinks and walks further in, putting everything down.

"You missed dinner." She turned to grab a chair and sat down. "C'mon. You can't work on an empty stomach. No matter how much practice you have."

Gendry chuckles, pulling over a chair as well and taking a seat next to her.

"So," He takes a bite from the food, settling her with a look. "Where did you run off to?"

"When?" She smiles.

"After I was getting carted off by the Red Witch."

Arya hums, chewing her food before swallowing a gulp of mead and handing it to him to do the same.

"Ran off into the woods, got picked up by The Hound, he tried bargaining me off to my family -which did not work." She tried to joke lightly, hoping he wouldn't ask but of course, he couldn't help himself. He gave her a confused look and she sighed. "We got to the twins the night of the Red Wedding and then the day we got to the Eyrie my aunt had died that morning."

Gendry couldn't help the laugh that tumbled from his mouth, catching himself quickly and his eyes widening. Arya couldn't help but also laugh, easing him into more laughter at the luck she had back then.

"After that, Brienne and her little fellow found us on a mountain. She fought and won against The Hound and I left him there to die. After that, I went to the coast, got on a boat, and went to Bravos."

"Hound's not dead." He said in between a burp.

"What?" There was no way he survived what Brienne did to him.

"Hound's not dead." He repeated. "He's here. He went north with us. Beyond The Wall and all that."

Arya had stopped moving, looking at him with wide eyes for a long few seconds and Gendry would've laughed if there wasn't just a hint of worry in her eyes.

"Well," She finally broke, looking down to pick up some more food. "That's going to be interesting."

Gendry hummed in agreement, watching her closely. "What'd you end up doing in Bravos?"

Arya shook her head, getting rid of the thoughts in her mind before looking at him again. In a way, she still couldn't believe that he was alive, here in front of her, and in fucking Winterfell of all places. She wondered for a moment if this meant the nightmares would stop or if they'd get worse.

"I went to the House of Black and White and demanded Jaqen H'ghar come out and let me in." They both laughed because of course that's something she would do.

"Oh, yeah?" Gendry laughed again, shaking his head and taking another sip of the mead. "And how did good old Jaqen take that?"

"He eventually let me in. Taught me his ways." Arya's smile deflated just a little, wondering how different her life would be right now if she hadn't fallen into that cult.

"He taught you to change faces?" Gendry wasn't mocking her this time like he did when they were younger. She supposed seeing firsthand the army of the dead would do that to someone's beliefs.

"It's this whole religion for the Many Faced God. They beat your old life out of you to be this empty vessel so you're not just changing faces, you're becoming the face you put on." Arya explained, feeling like a weight was slowly being lifted off of her shoulders with every word she spoke. "They make you go through all these trials and they test your will with people from your past. I once snuck out with a face to kill Meryn Trant and they punished me by taking my vision and chucking me out to the streets to be a beggar."

"Seven hells," Gendry mumbled, he was shocked and concerned, and he put a hand over hers. "How in the blazes did you get out of that?"

Arya smiled sadly at him, putting her other hand over his in comfort. "Like I said, they beat the old life out of you to be no one. But I got my vision back and it took me a while to get the hell out of there but I did, I got out." Gendry squeezed her hand, looking into her eyes for a long pause before looking away. Arya cleared her throat. "What about you? What happened when the Red Witch took you away?"

Gendry made an expression like he didn't think she was going to believe him like he hardly believed what happened to him as well.

"Yeah, she uh... She took me to Stannis Baratheon on Dragonstone and..." He pauses and takes a deep breath. "She used my blood for a spell."

Arya frowned, not because she didn't believe him but because it was him.

"Why your blood?" She asked, and Gendry looked like he was gearing up to drop some news on her.

"I'm... I'm Robert Baratheon's bastard."

Arya goes completely still. "What?"

"Yeah." He breathes out, shaking his head like he still can't believe it.

"That... that makes so much sense." She sits back heavily in her seat, connecting all the dots in her mind. "That's why the gold cloaks were after you."

"It's why your father came and saw me in the forge that day, and why The Lord Hand before him did as well." Gendry took a much-needed gulp from the mead this time. "Your brother knows."

"Jon?" Arya frowns harshly. "How the hell does Jon know?"

"I told him."

"You fucking idiot."

"Oi, our fathers trusted each other -we trust each other. All I've heard about Jon is how honourable he is." Gendry defended. "You can't tell anyone else."

"Gods forbid this gets back to Daenerys, you know, the one who was chased off of Dragonstone the day she was born and raised in exile because your father tried killing her every chance he got." Arya took hold of his hand again, biting her lip in worry making Gendry lean forward and bump his forehead with hers lightly.

"I know how dangerous this is."

For a moment Arya let herself believe he was talking about something else entirely, like he wasn't talking about his life hanging in the balance and by extension, hers. Because there wasn't a world where Arya let Gendry slip through her fingers again, no world where his life was going to be threatened by anything living. Arya felt like she could take on one of those dragons if need be.

No, Arya fantasised for a moment that he felt the same way about her, that they were never separated all those years ago. Maybe they would've become outlaws, riding through the Riverlands, avenging the Red Wedding one day at a time. They would ride together, and grow closer, their bond unbreakable.

A clinging sound from one of the other forges broke them apart with a jump, both of them rosey in the cheeks and avoiding eye contact.

"So... You were with Stannis for a bit then? On Dragonstone?" Arya continued, as if nothing had happened, because nothing had happened.

"Aye," Gendry replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ser Davos got me out before they could execute me. At a great personal cost to himself, I'll add. He put me in a row boat and I went off to Kingslanding. Been there ever since, of course until Ser Davos came and got me again."

"You've been in Kingslanding this whole time?" Arya gawked at him, taken completely by surprise. "Are you a fucking moron?"

"I was hiding right under their nose!" He argued back. "I didn't get caught."

Arya put her head in her hands, sighing to herself.

"I can't believe you." She mumbled to herself before looking back up at him with a frown. "Did you say you were in a row boat?"

"Yeah?" Gendry shrugged.

"Gendry." Arya stared at him, an unbelievable expression on her face. "You can't swim."

"You're telling me!" Gendry shook his head in agreeance with her. "I was shitting myself."

They looked at each other for a long moment before bursting out laughing again.

and it feels like I've been away for an era but nothing has changed at all and it feels like I've been with you but, oh, what did you do and where have you gone?