#Sandor Clegane x plus size reader

[plus-size-reader]

Gentle

Sandor Clegane x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2737 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Ned Stark’s eldest daughter finding herself interested by the King’s loyal protector, and even more disenchanted by how he’s treated

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The King’s arrival in Winterfell wasn’t of much interest to you, if you were being honest.

Of course you understood that it was a great honor and that his Grace was very important to your father, but outside of that, you had no real reason to pay the caravan much mind as it moved through the streets of Winterfell.

Had it not been for the pretense of duty and honor, and more severely, the pressure of your mother’s wrath, you truly believed you would have skipped the entire affair.

You weren’t the object of their visit, after all.

As the eldest daughter of Lord Eddard Stark, you were much too old to be of much interest to the young Prince compared to your sisters, and the King only came to Winterfell with your Aunt Lyanna on the mind.

Really, you weren’t sure why you needed to attend.

Until, you found yourself staring down the traveling party of the King’s guard, and the striking presence of the man they called “the Hound”

You had heard stories of the man over the years, and you knew where the title had come from, but never could you have imagined the man before you now and that man were one in the same. He hardly struck you as some ravenous monster, even then.

…and as the days went by, you found your opinion unchanged.

You existed in Winterfell simply, a privilege afforded you by your father’s title and the love the families of the North had for the Starks.

For the most part, you did what you wanted and didn’t call too much attention to yourself, content to read on the sidelines and follow after your siblings as they grew into their own. That meant that you escaped a lot of the formalities of nobility, as no one really needed too much of your attention.

If they were looking for a Stark to talk to, you were always fairly low on the list and you liked it that way, especially given all the excitement in Winterfall over the past few days.

With Sansa entertaining the Prince, your father entertaining the King and Queen, and the charms of the North keeping the guard away, you finally had a moment to yourself which only meant one thing. You could finally finish your book.

It was all set, just as you wanted it.

The weather had yet to get so bitter cold that you couldn’t stand to be out, so you grabbed a blanket and set it in the clearing near the market, under a big tree. The septa’s rarely bothered you these days, so you should be able to get some peace and quiet.

Not that you got too far before something else caught your eye.

You had only been reading your book for a short time when you heard the familiar sing-songy tone of your sister’s voice, followed unsurprisingly by the nasally pitch of Prince Joffrey.

They were to be married following this trip, and you knew she was excited. You could tell by the way she skipped lightly as she walked, and how she hung on his every word.

You had never been in love yourself, but you had to imagine that was what it looked like. Perhaps that was why you found yourself watching them as they walked, or maybe it had more to do with the Hound, loyal as always, who was trailing behind them steadily.

He was an interesting man, you’d decided.

Even as he walked, he studied the world around him as if he wasn’t a part of it, rather that he was peering in at it from the outside. You felt that you could relate, in some way, as you had always been that way.

They’d chastised you for being a dreamer as a girl. The Septa would take your books and keep them from you, your mother would beg you to engage in your duties as a lady and even Robb and Theon teased you.

Your head was always far away and even now, you had managed to keep it that way. While other women your age married and had heirs for unimpressive Lords, you remained in your father’s homeland.

A place where you could keep your books and your dreams, without having to endure the ugliness.

Not that ugliness was really the problem in the first place.

You were certain that some found the Hound ugly in all his violence and impropriety, but you couldn’t dare count yourself among them. Even now, as you stared at him over your bound paper novel, you saw nothing short of a dream like all the others.

It wasn’t even something you could truly understand, if you had any desire to try. There was just a softness to him, a quiet contemplation that made you feel as if no harm would ever come to you.

That wasn’t a feeling you’d known before now, as that was one of the things the North had never really had. Your father and brothers would rather die than let something or someone hurt you, you knew that, but it wasn’t so simple.

The comfort his presence held went beyond any physical threat or danger, it was almost warm.

Not that you would have ever ventured to admit it.

After all, you had never even spoken to the man and if you tried to explain the way you were feeling to anyone, they would surely have you committed. The hound was a lot of things, but none would have called him warm.

None outside of you that was.

You continued your staring for quite some time, only occasionally looking away from the sight before you to mindlessly turn the page in your book. You imagined you may have sat there all evening if you remained uninterrupted.

However, when your attention returned to the imposing form of the King’s dog across the way to find him already looking at you, the illusion fell away entirely.

Surely he thought you were demented.

In the entire time he and the King’s guard had been in Winterfell, you had yet to speak a word to a one of them but that didn’t mean he was unfamiliar with you. Every time he turned around, he found you sitting somewhere over his shoulder, that same book perched in your lap.

Anyone else may have just brushed you off, assuming you were a bit out there as your family always had, but Sandor couldn’t quite do that.

After all, he had grown used to the weary glances and fearful whispers between people as he passed, but no one had ever paid him so much mind as you seemed to be.

Naturally he was curious.

No one had voluntarily spent that much time looking at him in all his life, and he needed to know what it was about you that was different.

You tensed the moment you noticed his attention, not daring to look away from the weathered pages beneath your fingers, not when you heard him nearing where you sat and certainly not when he stopped at your side.

Neither of you spoke, and you weren’t even sure if you drew a single breath, but he certainly did as he waited. Waited for what he wasn’t sure, but it just seemed to be the thing to do.

As if you would somehow explain yourself if he stood in your presence long enough.

Though, after a long moment passed between you without so much as a glance from you, he decided to just end the torment for you both.

There would be no sense in just standing here all evening.

“Why do you stare so much?” he wondered aloud, his voice just as gruff as it always was, though you caught something else hidden there too. Just beneath the surface, hiding beneath the walls he’d built hugh within himself.

It almost sounded like a sort of nervousness, though you would have imagined him incapable of something so common.

You didn’t answer at first.

Whether it was due to the humiliation of being caught that held your tongue or the nerves of facing down such an imposing man on your own, he wasn’t sure. All Sandor knew for sure was that this was one of the strangest interactions he’d ever had.

If only he knew.

The real reason for your silence wasn’t some twisted interest or shame but because there was no real answer at all. At least not one you’d confidently admit while those brown eyes had you locked in a stare.

You hadn’t meant it to be disrespectful, of course, because the nature of your admiration couldn’t be farther from distaste. However, to a man like Sandor, that was exactly what it looked like.

…What it felt like.

Naturally, after a life of rejection, Sandor assumed that your staring was like that of every else when they looked at him. He assumed you were disgusted by him, and his grotesque face, or perhaps that you were afraid.

He hoped you weren’t afraid.

In any case, he never could have imagined that you would answer him in the way you did, even if it took you a moment to summon the courage to string any words together at all.

“I suppose I’m interested in you” you decided finally, twisting your face up slightly at the way that must have sounded.

It wasn’t quite right, of course, though it wasn’t entirely wrong either.

You were interested in him, but that seemed too simply a phrasing, like all the gravity and sentiment was missing even still.

Sandor only grunted in reply after a brief pause, his gaze drifting across the market, watching as the surrounding northerners studied your interaction, only to drop their eyes when they met his.

They all feared him, and they were right too, because they understood what he was and what he was capable of. Though, maybe that was another thing that you had done since he arrived that was unique to you.

Never once had you looked away from him.

You had never shrunk away or grimaced as they did, even at a time like this when anyone else would have run for the hills. It was certainly new, even he couldn’t be so stubborn as to ignore that.

“What’s so interesting about me?” he wondered, not daring to move closer or join you as you sat, but not moving further away either. Even though it felt wrong to speak freely with an unmarried noble woman like you, it really wasn’t.

You certainly didn’t think so, and you believed that anyone else would agree.

If anything, you were simply making conversation while he did his duty, watching over the Prince and his future bride.

Now, it was your turn to pause, regarding the words on the page only a moment more before you closed it, and discarded it in the snowy grass.

“We don’t have men like you here,” you allowed, considering his imposing frame as he stood above you.

Though you had only seen him from afar until now, at his impressive height and with your current low position, Sandor seemed even larger than he had before. Still, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be frightened by him, which had to have been because he wasn’t frightening in the first place.

The rest of the realm may have treated him like a monster but you hardly believed that made him one.

You could tell in the way he glanced down at you, surprise painting his features, that he wanted to argue with you but he faltered, because he didn’t understand. He wanted to tell you that there were violent men everywhere, and that most were just better at hiding it, but somehow, he knew that wasn’t what you meant.

No matter how diluted that may have made you seem in the moment.

“Gentle,” you clarified, watching as his mind tried to pin down exactly what you were trying to say, because the most obvious answer just wasn’t possible. “Men here are all the same. They’re either ruthless fighters or cowards and fools. On rare occasions, they may be both but neither are gentle as you are”

That was it.

There were the words you had been trying to find before, but it still didn’t feel as if he understood, or perhaps he just didn’t feel as if you had any right to be the one saying them.

After all, you had only ever been in the North and you hardly knew anything about him, or many other men for that matter. What real ground did you have to stand on when it came to this?

“Trust me little girl, there’s nothing gentle about a man like me” he scoffed, washing away any tenderness you’d been feeling in a moment.

Perhaps he was right, but you didn’t think so.

While it was true that there were no other men like him in the North, you had seen your fair share of guarded men hiding from the truth about themselves. Normally they were trying to convince themself that they were braver than they were, or stronger, but it looked the same.

It made them look small.

“It’s in your eyes. You think I can’t see it because you don’t, but it’s there. It’s the same reason you’re still having this conversation with me, even though the Prince snuck off with Sansa” you countered, gesturing to the missing space they’d previously occupied through the pass.

If he’d truly been keeping an eye on them, and nothing more, he wouldn’t have let them out of his sight.

“Maybe I just want to know what’s wrong with you? After all, I thought the future Lady of Winterfell would be a bit more sociable” he argued, almost poking fun at you in a way you hadn’t seen coming.

Which was a welcome break in that untouchable armor of his.

“I am hardly the future Lady of Winterfell. That title will belong to the wife of my brother Robb,” you informed, gathering your skirts to rise to your feet, only to find his hand outstretched to you, a further invitation behind the curtain.

You took it as gracefully as you could and rose to your full height, though you remained entirely dwarfed by the large man at your side.

“And I have never really taken to being sociable, that’s true. It’s my mother’s greatest upset” you teased, straightening out your gown and taking in the full sight of the Hound in all his glory.

He looked small, if that was even physically possible, as you admired him with those eyes of yours. If you thought his gaze was pointed, you had no idea how he felt beneath the heavy weight of your own.

“You’re a strange little thing, aren’t you?” he grumbled, his question hanging in the air untouched for a moment as you studied him, no longer caring how strange it may have looked to anyone else.

You had been right.

He was anything but ugly up close, and it was a tragedy that so few got to gaze upon him in this manner.

“I suppose. Perhaps that’s why I remain unmarried” you suggested, subconsciously hinting at what you knew to be your own greatest flaw, at least in the eyes of your people and your house.

At the very least, the Hound had been able to make something of himself outside of being a husband or son. He could be a warrior, and he was, one of the most fearsome warriors you’d ever seen.

As a woman, you had never been afforded that kind of privilege and you never would. As far as your mother was concerned, you would live and die a spinster, and there was little you could do to change that.

“Perhaps. Or maybe this place really is full of cowards and fools, as you said” he muttered, sparing you one more heady glance before turning his back to you, his attention fully on the clearing ahead.

That was it.

In all the days you’d been admiring him and making a desperate attempt to understand exactly what lay beneath that shell of his, that was all he had for you.

…and you couldn’t have been happier, because for the first time in a long time, you found yourself looking forward to what the days ahead would hold.

[catsteeth]

request of Sandor smut with a chubby!fem reader?? pls pls🥹

The Maiden

Sandor Clegane x reader

+:✿ Drabble✿:+ 

CW: MDNI, SMUT, P in V Sex, Plus Size Afab reader, mention of breast play, mention of insecurity, major body worshiping.   A/N: Girl yes the fuck you can-Yes the fuck you cannnn!!! I would like to make it known that in my personal head canon Y/N in both the Sandor and Podrick series is chubby. so sue me, 🫣SO LOCK ME UP!

Word Count: 420 (lol)

Sandor took his duty as your husband seriously. He needed you well fed. Three meals each day. He loved the thickness of your thighs, your belly, your hips, your ass, and of course your breasts. He ogled you since the first time he saw you working in a tavern in Winterfell. When you bent over to fill his cup, you caught him staring at your breasts. And before you knew it he had his cock between them.

And even now, he still ogled you just as he did before. He loved your softness, your plumpness, and your scars. 

He loved it best when you let him watch you bathe. His cock twitched in his trousers as his eyes ran over your naked body covered in oils, soaps, and bubbles. He loved how the fat of your belly slightly rolled in on itself as you sat up in the bath. It was as if you were a manifestation of the maiden herself right in front of him. Not a bit of you was masculine, you were a true symbol of femininity in his eyes. 

He couldn’t help it but pull his length out and stroke it as he watched you run your expensive perfumed oils over your body. The oil caught the light of the moon so perfectly, it only highlighted every curve of your body and the dip of your hips.

And if you ever dare complain about your body, he would teach you to love it. One brutal thrust of his hips at a time. The water spilling out the sides of the tub mixed well with the sounds you make as his cock pulsed inside of your aching cunt. 

But of course he’d punish you for thinking such terrible things about the love of his life. 

So naturally he’d make you ride him. He’d be unable to help himself from bucking his hips into you harder, making your breasts bounce, your belly shake, and your ass jiggle, all while you held onto his shoulders for support. The slight is enough to make him fill you quickly with his release. 

As the heat of it engulfs your body, you remember how beautiful you are. How much 

power you hold. 

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[first-edition]

LOL💕💕 this is my first time asking for a blurb and i know you’re currently writing for sandor but you’re so good at writing for sandor i had to ask. okay so here’s my idea for a blurb:

Reader is from a highborn house maybe like Arryn or something. She’s in kings landing for some kind of arranged marriage (which she’s not happy about). She and sandor have an established friendly(ish) relationship mainly built on mutual respect cause she’s a hard woman rather than a little girl. Obviously he doesn’t let his actual attraction show but maybe one night they find themselves alone and she manages to get soft on him♥️

Key things 🥺

-Plus Sized reader

-possessive or maybe obsessive sandor

-preferably nsfw🤭

Sorry this took so long lol here you go i hope you like it sorry for spelling errors I didn’t check.

When you arrived at kings landing your didn’t like it you would always try and run away and the guard would come and fetch you bringing you right back into the castle walls.

Queen Cersei was very fond of you treating you like a daughter however most of the highborn men would make fun of you. That would talk behind your back, if even that, about how “rugged” you were. You were a daddy’s girl your mother passed when you were little leaving your father to take care of you. Since he couldn’t bear the thought of become one with another woman other than your mother you were his only son and daughter in one.

He thought you how to swim, read. Hunt, fish, ride, and battle skills involving swordplay. Your father sent you to kingslanding hoping to find you a husband.

As times passed and your escape attempts became more elaborate Cersei assigned hound to your side glued you at the hip and wouldn’t let you leave his sight basically. When you woke up he was there when you went to sleep he was there. Even though hes rough around the edges to say the least you grew quite fond of him. You would talk and he would listen. You wanted to go on a ride he would join you.

Even though he wont admit it he grew fond of you as well. At first being impressed with Almost evading him through the gate leaving him to easily pick you up and throw you over his shoulder in the end regardless of your kicking and screaming.

The night of jeoffrys coronation you left the ball early running to the court yard outside to cry as your fellow highborns we making fun of you for your figure.

You weren’t obese nor are you skinny but a perfect mix between your plump frame being eventuated in all your dresses. Sandor finds you mudded on the ground as you had tripped over the godforsaken dress Cersei had laid out for you. He’d picked you up and carried you back to your room.

Before you let him leave you took his hand and thanked him for everything hes done for you. Keeping you safe in the previous riot, giving you much needed company and even for evading your escape plans. All your soft talk of your underwhelming in confession for him left him with no choice but reciprocate as scary as that may have been for him.

He helped you out of your dress as you helped him out of his armor sets before feverishly feeling one another. Using the nick name “little dove” simply from your house banner symbol of a bird.

Clothes were discarded as your shared your passion on in your bed chambers. At first he was worried about taking your virginity but you wanted nothing more or less than him. You wanted sandor more than you could’ve even dreamed and he wanted you.

His hand s gripped your thighs as he entered you his large cock splitting your folds open sitting inside you the delicious pain of him joining you in ecstasy. He kissed your body and lips devouring every sensation he could. Once you gave him the ‘okay’ he began moving.

Adjusting to his size was made easy by him showering you in love before hand. Eating out like a starved man entering his finger in you asking you to guide him in what you like and him even subconsciously teaching you parts of your self you never knew.

You figured things out about him as well. How much he loved your body your tummy and thighs bust especially your breasts. How they hang, how they bounce, large to fit your body but also perfect in his eyes. Sucking and licking your nipples gripping them in his large palm. He could plunge his face into them feeling the plushness of them.

He wouldn’t let himself go until you were begging him writhing under him as he forced orgasm after orgasm from you. His grunting and moaning in your ear melodic turning you on more fearing youll never be able to stop.

You had chosen your husband your father so desperately wanted for you. Sandor clegane. After that night sandor became more protective over you more ‘obsessed’. He would over work the new recruiting knights so they would have more to do just to slip away and take you in the library or in the gardens maze.

He craved you not just your body but your soul, your smile, your laugh, your presence. He was still assigned to you regardless of you no longer trying to escape the walls.

When Stannis invaded he took you with him and you both heading back to the vale. Even though Sandor wasn’t the ideal choice your father had thought of for you he allowed the marriage seeing how happy you made each other. Even after already being his it didn’t stop Sandors need for you. And you would need him all the more.

I hope you liked this once again sorry for the late response lol…im in LOVE with sandor clegane and will virtually never turn down a sandor head cannon or blurb!!

[the-coldest-goodbye]

Sandor Clegane x plus size reader headcanons

Sandor Clegane x plus size fem!reader

A/N: This is my first time writing Sandor, so sorry if it feels a little OOC. I’m not the happiest with how this one turned out. Also sorry that it comes off more as being a bulleted story and less like an actual list of headcanons, but oh well. Some smut under the cut.

► In a world like King’s Landing where conformity is key and everyone is playing a game for power and survival, you and Sandor find kindred spirits within each other as outsiders.

► Being a man who has faced a lifetime full of nothing but giving and receiving cruelty and pain, Sandor is drawn to you, someone who sees past his brutish exterior and finds him worthy of receiving compassion and kindness.

► Coming from a relatively small noble family, you were sent to King’s Landing to work in the Keep as a handmaiden. Your family hoped that this would allow you to make connections and maybe gave you a chance of finding a nobleman from a higher up family, giving you the opportunity to marry up and strengthen your family’s alliances. However, because of your weight, you looked much different from the other handmaidens. Because you stood out, you became an automatic target for Joffrey’s abuse. This also alienated you from most of the other handmaidens. They didn’t want to be associated with you, hoping they could slide more easily under Joffrey’s radar.

► You had always been a bit of an outsider, but being in King’s Landing really intensified everything. Suddenly you found yourself completely alone in a city far from home, none of your friends or family to keep you company or boost your spirits when you were feeling down. Everyone in King’s Landing seemed to be playing a game for power, money, influence, and their lives. You didn’t know who you could trust or where you could go. Every day in this city felt more and more soul-crushing than the last.

► However, you found yourself very intrigued by the giant of a man who was The Hound -- Sandor Clegane. From what you heard, he was a vicious and bloodthirsty fighter, and yet he seemed to reject whatever game was being played in King’s Landing. You heard that he had rejected a knighthood, finding no honor in what he did. Despite him being the bodyguard for King Joffrey, Sandor didn’t make much of an effort to hide his scorn for the royal family, and yet he faced no consequences for it. He seemed to be somehow operating within whatever system was in place while still managing to be entirely outside of it. He was a man who was met with fear by others, but you didn’t particularly fear him. In a sense, you almost felt as if he were a bit of a kindred spirit by being an outsider.

► You started off by being respectful and kind towards him, greeting him pleasantly and smiling whenever you passed him in the halls of the Keep. He wasn’t particularly friendly back to you, though he wasn’t outright hostile like many of the other handmaidens feared. If anything, he seemed more surprised that you were acknowledging him than anything, so you decided to keep it up.

► Sandor himself had very low self-esteem, both in terms of his appearance and his overall character. He didn’t think anyone would ever want to be anywhere near a big, vicious, disfigured brute like himself, so he was a little freaked out when you would actually greet him without fear. Most other handmaidens avoided all eye contact with him or ran in the other direction when they saw him coming, but not you. Your greetings were always warm and seemingly genuine.

► One time, you referred to him as “Ser Clegane,” using the title out of habit. He growled, “I’m no knight, girl,” at you. You just smirked and said, “Sorry. May I call you Sandor, then?” He made a noncommittal grunting sound before your smirked and walked away. After that, you would always just call him Sandor, not Hound or Dog like most others referred to him. Those nicknames seemed so derogatory and cruel, so you just settled on calling him by his actual name, something most wouldn’t dare to do.

► As he tended to be in general, Sandor was still a bit prickly towards you, but he really didn’t hate you. He actually became a little fond of you, which started to show in small ways. Instead of scowling at you or ignoring you altogether when you would greet him, his jaw would clench but he would nod at you in acknowledgement. Instead of paying no attention to you like he did with the other handmaidens in the Keep, his eyes would follow you whenever you passed. Eventually, he began to take some initiative in talking to you. In particular, he would quietly warn you to go away if you were somewhere that he knew Joffrey would be passing through shortly, wanting to help you avoid having to interact with him. He had seen the way Joffrey would abuse you regularly, and he didn’t want to subject you to that if you could avoid it.

► Sandor began to observe you, trying to figure you out. You were kind to him, but he could tell that you were not naive like many of the other handmaidens who wanted to live out their fairytale fantasies in the castle. Despite this, he still feared that King’s Landing would harden you and drain you of any kindness you had. You were sarcastic and clever, and you weren’t put off at all by his prickly exterior. When he began to reply to you in your short conversations, you weren’t deterred by his grouchy comments -- in fact, you’d often reply with more snark, which would cause him to break his stoney exterior by making him smirk in amusement. He couldn’t tolerate many people in King’s Landing, but he thought he just might be able to tolerate you.

► He noticed how expressive your eyes were and all of the different looks that would fill them -- how mischievous they were when you made sarcastic, teasing comments; the way they twinkled and filled with tears of laughter when you heard something particularly humorous; or how genuinely soft they were when you greeted him. However, he also noticed the fear that filled them when Joffrey was near, the pain when the other handmaidens excluded you or mocked you, the loneliness when you sat by yourself in the gardens in the evenings. He wished he could protect you and get you away from all of this shit, but he didn’t know how.

► Sandor also began to think that you were the most remarkable woman he had ever encountered. He hated feeling weak or admitting to having any tenderness for anyone, but you did something to him. In the pile of shit that was King’s Landing, you were a diamond to him. You were too good to be there. He wanted nothing more than to get you out of King’s Landing before you either wound up dead from being a pawn in another person’s political game or before you felt pressured to change to fit in with everyone else for your own survival. You didn’t belong there.

► Rage stormed within Sandor every time Joffrey was cruel towards you, but he had to try his hardest to protect you in ways that would be undetected by Joffrey. He knew the cruelty of the boy well. If Sandor outright stood up against Joffrey to protect you, the boy would come up with a cruel scheme, like forcing Sandor to hurt you himself for Joffrey’s own twisted entertainment. Instead, Sandor would always escort you back to your chambers once the king was done with his tirade against you. Sandor would always scowl and talk shit about the royal family (and about Joffrey in particular) until you were grinning through your tears. If Joffrey’s abuse every got physical with you, Sandor would wipe away any blood from your wounds. You were very appreciative and you found yourself super drawn to this man. For someone who was supposed to be cruel and vicious, you couldn’t help but notice how concerned he seemed to be for your wellbeing.

► Sandor could tell that you seemed uncomfortable in your own skin (something he was all too familiar with) and he deep down wanted to comfort and reassure you like he had so often longed to be reassured when he was younger and less jaded. But he didn’t know how. Tender words felt so foreign on his tongue. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to get the words out. He spent so much of his life facing brutality from others and dishing it out, thinking that was the only way he could survive, convincing himself that any tenderness was a weakness. Yet with you, a tiny voice in his head cried out sweet words, wanting nothing more than to reassure you that everything was okay and that you were beautiful.

► Sandor thought you were physically beautiful too. You stood out from the other handmaidens. You were one of a kind. The thought of the contrast between your bodies drove him wild. He was giant, rock-hard, and rough. You were round and soft and significantly shorter than him. He always wondered how it would feel to have you pressed against him. Your body looked so soft and warm, and his mind often drifted to dirty places thinking about it. He wondered how you would feel under his rough, callused hands, how your ass would jiggle if he spanked you, how your tits would bounce if he pounded his hard cock into you. At the same time, he also felt some tenderness for you. He wondered how you would feel in his arms if he held you, how it would feel to have your fingers laced through his, how your hair would feel as he stroked your head.

► Sandor soon found himself fantasizing about you all the time. When he was alone in his chambers after a long day, he would furiously jerk off while thinking about you touching him.

► The only sexual experiences he had ever had throughout his life had been with prostitutes. Given his intimidating size and his reputation for being vicious and cruel, the women he slept with were always repulsed and scared by him. In his fantasies, you were eager and willing and tender with him, something he fantasized about whenever you were kind to him in your day-to-day interactions. It would just leave him feeling bitter, though, because why would a lady like you ever want anything to do with a beast like him?

► He briefly considered going to a brothel in an attempt to find a prostitute who looked similar to you, but none had a body quite like yours, and he knew it would only hurt him to try to live out his fantasies of you with a woman who was obviously repulsed by him, so he didn’t go through with it.

► When Joffrey was being particularly cruel towards you one day, humiliating you by having one of his guards hit you and start to rip your clothes off of you to expose your bare body to everyone in the throne room, Sandor couldn’t handle standing around anymore. He stopped the guard from hurting you anymore, wrapped his cloak around you, and escorted you out. Sandor knew that Joffrey would try to make there be consequences, but Sandor didn’t fear them. Sandor was the best fighter he had. No one could hurt him, and everyone knew that it would be foolish for the royal family to get rid of him. Instead, he was more afraid for you. He wouldn’t let anything happen to you.

► Back in your chambers, Sandor helped clean you up, wiping away the blood from your face where you were hit. You were surprised at how gentle his touch was, but you could tell that he was uncertain, as if he were unsure how to be tender and afraid of touching you. He was surprisingly chivalrous and respectful too, turning away to allow you to change into a different dress.

► Feeling comforted by his presence, you asked Sandor to stay the night. You were afraid of being left alone and whether or not there would be any consequences you would face from Sandor cutting Joffrey’s abuse short. Sandor agreed and spent that night in your chambers with you. This was the longest you two had ever been around each other up until this point, and you were surprised at just how comfortable you felt around him. The two of you talked late into the night -- well, mainly you talked and he occasionally commented, though he seemed to get more comfortable with participating in the conversation as the evening went on. He was kind of impressed by your insistence to make conversation with him. You weren’t afraid of him, and even his snippier comments didn’t scare you off. You were patient with him and also teased him back, letting his unrefined comments roll off your back. You eventually dozed off, and he sat protectively over you in a nearby chair all night. In that moment, he knew that he would kill anyone who tried to hurt you.

► After that night, you became much more attached to him. You would interact with him more outside of just greetings as you passed by. You would stop to chat with him, or ask him to occasionally accompany you as a “chaperone” on your trips through the city marketplace or through the gardens. However, instead of having him just trail behind you from a safe distance, you insisted on having him walk right beside you so that the two of you could chat. You weren’t afraid or embarrassed of being seen with him, and deep down that meant a lot to him.

► Some nights, you would ask Sandor to come to your room at night, usually with you claiming you were afraid of Joffrey. Honestly, a lot of the times you were just saying that as an excuse and not because you were truly afraid, but you could tell that Sandor was already wrapped around your finger and he would protect you at any cost. He never really overthought your excuses why you wanted him to be with you at nights. He just wanted to be near you, so he would go for it.

► Any step forward in your physical intimacy would have to be initiated by you. A part of him always doubted that anyone would ever want him, so he didn’t want to chance taking things forward in case you didn’t want to.

► One night, you got the courage to kiss him. He was being unusually open that evening and admitted to you that he would do anything for you. “You’re the only good person in this shithole of a city,” he grumbled. “I would do anything for you.”

Adrenaline started bubbling in you. “Anything?” you asked.

“Anything.”

You softly approached him as he sat, straddled his lap, and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. He didn’t return the kiss, and pulled away fast. “What do you think you’re doing?” he growled. His words were harsh, but a much softer look of panicked confusion was in his eyes.

“You said anything,” you whispered.

He paused for a second before pulling you back into him, hungrily claiming your lips with his. When he pulled back, he growled, “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that, little one.”

► The first few times the two of you had sex, you wouldn’t just undressed. You would just push up your skirts so he could get to you from behind, either doggy style or taking you while he bent you over something like a table or your bed. He would also be entirely clothed, just with his cock hanging out of his trousers.

► You were afraid of showing off your body. In your mind, this was confirmed by Sandor not trying to convince you to get naked and by only taking you from behind. You got worried that he wouldn’t have you in any other position because he was disgusted by you and your body. In Sandor’s mind, this confirmed his own negative thoughts too. He was happy to finally be fucking you after having fantasized about it for so long, but it wasn’t how he had imagined. He lusted after you and wanted to fuck you silly, sure, but he also adored you as a person and wanted to savor the experience of really making love and pleasuring you. Instead, it all felt fast and impersonal. With you not trying to change positions and keeping your clothes on, it reaffirmed his belief that you were repulsed by him and just wanted sex, but not necessarily with him.

► You found yourself growing sadder and more ashamed as this became the routine each time the two of you had sex. One evening, he could tell you seemed particularly sad after you had sex with him. Panic flared in Sandor, thinking that you were finally too repulsed to enjoy being with him. He quietly asked you what was wrong, bracing himself for you to reject him. When you admitted your insecurities to him in tears, his whole face fell. You had never seen him look as sad as he did right then. He admitted that the reason why he didn’t try to have you in any other position was because he was ashamed of his scarred face. He didn’t want you looking at it in case it turned you off. You assured him that you weren’t turned off by his scars, and he reassured you that he was turned on by your body and that he thought you were the most beautiful woman in the world.

► Feeling much more confident after clearing the air and reassuring each other of your attraction, it felt like you two actually made love together for the first time instead of just rutting against each other. Sandor went very slow and took his time exploring your body. His face was the softest you had ever seen it, genuine awe in his eyes. You were surprised at how gentle and tender his giant callused hands could be. He was a vicious killer, and yet here he was worshipping your body. He was shy whenever you touched him, not used to such gentleness.

► Once he got over his insecurities about you seeing his scars, he loved fucking you face-to-face so he could kiss you the entire time. He had spent his life being so starved for actual affection and intimacy that just kissing you felt like heaven on earth. He was also so strong, he could lift you up into his arms as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He loved to fuck you like that. You were surprised about that given your weight, but he could still pick you up like it was nothing. He also acted like it was nothing when you rode him, sat on his face, laid on top of him, or sat on his lap. For once in your life, you felt confident. Around him, you weren’t worried about your weight. He was turned on by you and your body, and he wanted nothing more than to take care of you and treat you right.

► No matter what, he part of him would still be afraid of hurting you because he was used to viewing himself as a violent monster, but he loved you being plus sized because he felt like he was a little less worried about breaking you with his touch. Whenever he would be a little too soft or gentle when you wanted him to be rougher, you would encourage him and remind him that you could take it. “Come on, I can handle it,” you would purr devilishly into his ear. “You won’t break me.” That always got him going.

► He adored your body. It was unbelievably soft. He feared that someone as bad and harsh as him didn’t deserve someone as sweet as you. Your body was so warm and inviting. He lived a life of harshness and brutality. You felt like an escape for him.

► He would flinch away from you at first whenever you tried to touch his scarred face, but would let you after you coaxed him into it. Your touch was gentle and caring, as if you too were afraid of scaring him off. Your eyes didn’t contain repulsion or pity like he had expected. Instead, there was compassion and tenderness. “I’m sorry you’ve been treated so cruelly,” you’d whisper to him. Your fingers stroked his scarred flesh before cupping his cheek in your hand. “But I want you to know that I will never hurt you.” Sandor was overwhelmed by your warmth. He was at a loss for words, so instead he pulled you into him and claimed your lips fiercely, his heart melting when you returned his kiss with equal fervor. After that moment, he minded less and less whenever you looked at or touched his scar. It was something that had marked such a traumatic event in his life and that continued to bring him negative reactions from other people, so having it be something that brought him tenderness and love from you meant a lot to him.

► Sandor felt a bit like a kindred spirit with you, both of you physically standing out from the crowd and feeling alienated from others. What blew his mind was how that had caused him to become jaded and cruel while you still remained soft and sweet. Even though you were often sarcastic and snarky, there was still so much sweetness within you, particularly a compassion for others who were also considered outsiders. He wanted to protect that in you. You gave him hope of a future away from all of the silly little games that were played in King’s Landing, a future where you could just exist without having to play roles or to scheme just to survive.

► He was so protective of you. No one dared mess with you while Sandor was around because people knew that he would quite literally kill for you.

► If he ever saw you dieting or refusing food or drink, he’d scoff and put more food on your plate, encouraging you to eat until you were actually satisfied.

► He was a giant of a man, so despite your weight, he still considered you little. All of his pet names for you (“little bird,” “little dove,” “little one”) had “little” in them. You would laugh and point out that you weren’t that little, only for him to point out, “From up here, you’re little to me.”

► If you ever expressed your insecurities, he’d scoff and tell you not to be so stupid before seeing the hurt on your face. Then his voice would lower and he’d explain about how you were beautiful on the inside and the outside, and how he loved every inch of your body, about how good your body felt pressed against his, about how he couldn’t imagine being with anyone besides you. He wasn’t a man of many words, and they were often unrefined, but his attempts to speak gently and lovingly to you meant the world.

► He loved you and fantasized about a future with you as his wife, one where you lived far away from King’s Landing. One day you mentioned it as well without any prompting from him, fantasizing about the two of you living in a small house on the edge of a quiet, peaceful village. This made Sandor’s heart beat faster, discovering that you shared the same dreams as him; but he didn’t want his heart to get too ahead of his brain, so he’d scoff and say, “No, you’re a lady of house Y/L/N. You deserve a rich pretty-boy husband with titles and a castle, not a mean, old dog like me.”

“Don’t I deserve to be happy?” you’d ask gently. “Because I’ll only be happy with you,” you continued.

There was a moment of silence as Sandor looked into the distance, deep in thought, before quietly muttering, “Then I’ll get you out of here, little dove. I promise you, I’ll get us out of here. We’ll leave this wretched place and never look back.” A beat. “I may not have much to offer, but everything I do, little dove, will be for you.”

You grabbed his hand and smiled sweetly. “You’ve already given me yourself, Sandor, and that’s more than enough.”

[missyslittlepet]

Can I get a plus size reader x Sandor where he is just head over heels for her. Maybe one of the Lannisters hurts reader to keep him in check/to taunt him (kind of like what is done to Sansa in front of the court).

Help a chonk out will ya? I'm in love with the man 🥺

[merakiaes]

WHAT I CURRENTLY WRITE AND DON’T WRITE

PAYMENT - COMMENTS EQUALS NEW CONTENT (PLEASE READ)

(Characters and fandoms for which requests are open are below the cut so if you don’t want to read the guidelines, you can just scroll down there. However, I do recommend you to at least skim through the “I don’t write”-section to make it easier for both of us!)

(IF YOU WANT TO REQUEST ME TO GIVE YOU A SHIP, SEE THIS SEPARATE POST)

MY ONLY RULE:

If you make a request, anonymous or not, you have to leave a comment on your fic. (Read more about why here.) Even better would be if you reblogged it to help get my work out to more readers!, but I will settle with a comment if you, for some reason, don’t want to reblog. 

This means there should always be a minimum of one comment under every requested fic I post - if I see that this isn’t being followed, I’m going to stop writing requests. Simple as that.

With that said, don’t bother requesting if you’re not ready to make this exchange because that’s just unpaid work. 

I DON’T WRITE:

Smut.

Songfics.

Headcanons.

Specified and inappropriate/illegal age gaps. Example, an underage student and an adult teacher.

Specified body types.

Body image issues & ED’s.

Male reader.

POC reader.

Specified physical features. (Hair colors, eye colors, etc.)

I try to stay as neutral to physical appearance as I possibly can so that everyone gets an equal chance at emerging themselves into the role, no matter the reader’s ethnicity, height, build, and so on.

Writing plus size!reader and writing about eating disorders and body immage issues is too triggering for me as I, myself, struggle with body dysmorphia on a daily basis.

TO THINK ABOUT WHEN REQUESTING:

Don’t be too vague with your request. For example, a request asking for a fic where “the reader is a character x’s sister”, or "the reader is shy” or”sassy”, is not enough for me to go on. I need a scenario, a plot, an action, an endgame, or a dialogue prompt.

Contrary to the previous point; don’t make requests with too much detail or too long of a timeline, either. I don’t have the energy nor time to write requests that are spread out over eternity and that would end up being as long as a novel.

When requesting prompts from my prompt-lists, ALWAYS include the number and name of the list, not just the quote. The lists you can request for are the following:

Fluff Angst Smut Kiss Hug Common tropes

Don’t get pissy if you request something and I kindly tell you that I don’t write that kind of thing, whatever it may be. I’ve had to deal with this a lot lately and it’s really annoying. All writers have their own, individual preferences, and that’s their right.

Keep in mind all that is written above, and feel free to send several requests if you want to guarantee that you get at least one of them done - some things are easier to write than others and I always appreciate having requests to pick from depending on my mood and current motivation.

Requests are currently open for the following fandoms and characters. Please send in requests!

CRIMINAL MINDS

Spencer Reid

Aaron Hotchner

Derek Morgan

Luke Alvez

Emily Prentiss

Penelope Garcia

Matt Simmons

Will LaMontagne

Clyde Easter

MARVEL

Tony Stark

Steve Rogers

Peter Parker (Tom Holland & Andrew Garfield)

Loki Laufeyson

Scott Lang

Bucky Barnes

Stephen Strange

Jack Thompson

Bruce Banner

Eddie Brock

Helmut Zemo

Darcy Lewis

Daniel Sousa

Logan Howlett

Natasha Romanoff

Sam Wilson

Nathan Summers

Pietro Maximoff (Aaron Taylor-Johnson)

TWILIGHT

Paul Lahote

Leah Clearwater

Edward Cullen

Charlie Swan

Mike Newton

TEEN WOLF

Derek Hale

Jordan Parrish

Peter Hale

STAR WARS

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Kylo Ren

Ben Solo

Armitage Hux

Anakin Skywalker

Poe Dameron

Padmé Amidala

Young Han Solo

STRANGER THINGS

Steve Harrington

Billy Hargrove

Jim Hopper

REIGN

Sebastian “Bash” de Poitiers

Leith Bayard

Louis Condé

James Stewart

Darnley

Prince Henri

Claude

Mary Stuart

THE WITCHER

Geralt of Rivia

Jaskier

PRISON BREAK

Lincoln Burrows

Alexander Mahone

KONG: SKULL ISLAND

James Conrad

Reg Slivko

Earl Cole

TRANSFORMERS

William Lennox

Sam Witwicky

Robert Epps

DIVERGENT

Eric Coulter

Peter Hayes

Tobias Eaton

HARRY POTTER

Fred Weasley

Draco Malfoy

George Weasley

Cedric Diggory

Remus Lupin (young & adult)

Hermione Granger

Bill Weasley

Ron Weasley

Neville Longbottom

Severus Snape

GAME OF THRONES

Sandor Clegane

Jorah Mormont

Edd Tollett

Jon Snow

Gendry Baratheon

Jaime Lannister

Sansa Stark

TRIPLE FRONTIER

Ben Miller

William “Ironhead” Miller

Francisco “Catfish” Morales

Santiago “Pope” Garcia

Tom “Redfly” Davis

PEAKY BLINDERS

Tommy Shelby

Arthur Shelby

John Shelby

Finn Shelby

Alfie Solomons

Ada Shelby

PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN

James Norrington

Will Turner

Jack Sparrow

THE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE

Luke Crain

Steve Crain

Theo Crain

MISCELLANEOUS

Dan Torrence (Doctor Sleep)

Detective David Loki (Prisoners)

Floyd Lawton (Arrow)

Smitty Ryker (Hacksaw Ridge)

Captain James Nicholls (War Horse)

Sam Drake (Uncharted)

Daryl Dixon (The Walking Dead)

Rick Flag (Suicide Squad)

Nathan Prescott (Life Is Strange)

Sweet Pea (Riverdale - first season only)

Jace Wayland (The Mortal Instruments, 2013)

Murtagh Morzansson (Eragon)

Jason Lee Scott (Power Rangers, 2017)

Jesse Zeklos (Vampire Academy)

Matt Campbell (The Haunting in Connecticut)

Nick Jones (House of Wax)

Ludovica Storti (Baby)

Reid Garwin (The Covenant)

Tyler Simms (The Covenant)

Fezco (Euphoria)

Feel free to reblog this to spread the word!

[meganlpie]

Here We Go!

Hi there, lovelies!! Here’s what’s coming up! Thank you for your patience!

*A SPN fic titled “Pretty Please?” Dean Winchester x fem!reader

*A GoT fic titled “Perfectly Suited”: Tyrion Lannister x fem!reader

*An Avengers fic titled “If You Insist”: Tony Stark x fem!plus-sized reader

*Another GoT fic titled “We Can’t Do This”: Jon Snow x fem!reader

*Another SPN fic titled “Arm Candy”: Crowley x fem!reader

*Another GoT fic titled “The Kennel Master’s Daughter”: Sandor Clegane x fem!reader

*Another GoT fic titled “The Bear, The Hound, and The Lady Fair”: Jorah Mormont x fem!reader x Sandor Clegane

*A Flash fic titled “The Stars in Your Eyes” Cisco Ramon x fem!reader

All fem!readers this time…Any way, thank you so much for all the support and requests!! Lots of love!

-Meg

[lollen96]

Game of Thrones - Part Two (New) - Sandor Clegane X Plus-Sized!Reader - Whole Lotta Woman (on Wattpad) https://my.w.tt/RrFUIsxuuR Hey guys, thanks for choosing to read my book. I hope you enjoy it. If you haven't already, please go to my page to find the first part of this book. I do not own any characters from the HBO show or the novels by George R.R. Martin. These imagines are not canon and all new characters are my own. If you want to support this book or any other I may write in future please do so using Ko-Fi. This money gives me the ability to continue writing in my spare time without having to worry about extra funds and will eventually help me to begin publishing my own works outside of my fanfiction. Follow the link: Ko-fi.com/S6S075KP to pledge just £3. The link is also available on my profile page. If you have any questions about Ko-Fi please feel free to private message me. Thank you. L x

[plus-size-reader]

Saving Grace

Sandor Clegane x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1416 words

Warnings: language probably and Abuse by Joffrey to the reader

Summary: Joffrey likes beating up on the reader, but the Hound always has her back 

———————————————————————————————————

As far as anyone else was concerned Sandor Clegane was nothing more than the King's dog but in your eyes, he was your saving grace . 

You were the handmaiden to the boy king, who had taken it upon himself to use you as more of a punching bag then anything else.

It wasn't really you that he had a problem with, it was just people in general, you just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. "You dumb cunt, I ordered you to fetch my wine hours ago" he barked, standing from his throne to back hand you heartily across the face, your cheek burning at the violent contact.

Tears pricked in your eyes but you quickly wiped them away, the last thing in the world you wanted to do was show the king how much his abuse pained you. 

You were too busy dealing with his tantrum to notice but across the great hall, stood the Hound-his eyes forced closed as the sound of Joffrey's hand making contact with your flesh. 

He couldn't bear to deal with the constant pain you were in at the hand of the boy, he wished he could make it go away but he wasn't inclined to make that happen.

What he did do however, was come and find you each time you were forced to your knees by the child. 

The Hound did his best to calm you and patch up any cuts dealt out to you, and while it was true he wasn't the most gentle man to have ever lived, he tried his best. 

You rushed from the room and closed the door behind you, keeping it closed as you scrubbed at the red skin of your cheek, you didn't want anyone to see that hadn't already.

"Don't!" the words rang out like a bell in your ears, instantly forcing you to stop your movements, you didn't have to look to know who it was, Sandor was the only one who came to your aid at times like this. 

"It doesn't matter, he hardly touched me this time" you lied, keeping your broad back to him, you couldn't nearly stomach the thought of him seeing you this way, though he had many times before. 

"Piss off with all that and come here" he orders, his voice gruff but almost teasing as he tried his hardest to lighten the mood.

You frowned but took his words regardless, turning toward him with not so much as a blink. You were frightened of what he would think or what he would do, but it didn't truly matter, you were only a maiden to the crown in the first place. 

The Hound was filled with anger instantly at the sight that befell him, the entire right side of your face was swollen and pink. 

Your face was round by nature but not like this, he had no doubt that if he were to touch the hot skin, it would force you away from him with a wince.

"That bastard boy-he should die for this" he growled, gingerly running the back of his hand over your left cheek. He wanted to remind you that his intentions were pure toward you without risking the idea of harming your now tender flesh.

"Don't talk that way, you mustn't let them hear you" you shushed, taking hold of his leather collar as if trying to reign him in. 

You had to have been the only person alive who could get actual cooperation from the Hound, though it was obvious he was unhappy about it.

He scoffed at you words, mustn't let them hear him? please, as if Sandor Clegane was afraid of the boy king. 

Deep down, he wondered what it would be like if you two didn't live these lives, If he whisked you away and took you someplace safe, someplace where you could never be harmed, someplace where you could finally be his bride. 

While he had been lost in thought, you had moved over to the mirror, studying your reflection in the small, dirty surface. 

You were focusing on the spotty, red flesh which was pricking with blood in a few spots-clearly imprinted from the king's ring.

"Come now, let me" he commands, closing the space between you with a few heavy steps, his chest flesh against your back. 

You sucked in a nervous breath at his close proximity but there wasn't any room for self-consciousness, Sandor had a task in mind that he was much too focused on to think about anything else. 

His touch was so gentle on your shoulders that you wondered if you even felt it in the first place, it was strange to see such a large, intimidating man taking his sweet time in babying you.

He turned you around slowly, his hand bracing your lower back as he did so, careful not to move you around too quickly.

"Why are you so kind to me?" you wondered, instantly regretting your words, why would you have asked such a thing of the Hound, that couldn't have been the best idea. Instead of answering you, Sandor instead heaved you into his arms and didn't set you down until you were laid down across the cot. 

He grabbed his cloth and went to gently patting your swollen cheek with the soft fabric "I am kind to you because you are kind to me" he replies, it was simple and deep in his throat but still sent a chill down your spine.

"Kind to you? When have I been kind to you?" you wondered, you had never been cruel to the Hound by any means but you couldn't think of anything you had ever done to deserve this level of kindness. 

"You look at me without that look of fear I know so well" he shrugged, it was so matter of fact that you nearly got lost in his words. 

"When I look at you, I see nothing wrong with you-You're a kind man though you may not believe it" you grinned, reaching your hand up ever so slightly to touch his cheek, just in time for him to wince away from you-therefore making his touch on your cheek tighten just a bit, increasing the wince you gave in return.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-" you started, though he shushed you with a light tut of his tongue. 

You were careful enough to know you shouldn't have touched him in such a way. In all the time you had known the Hound, you had never seen anyone touch him in that way, you didn't know why in the world you had thought to have done it.

 "Never apologize, that's why you're such an easy target for that cunt" he scowls, tossing his rag down to the floor but not removing his hand from your hip, where it had fallen when you tensed away from him.

His hand felt as if it belonged there on the swell of your hip, and while it wasn't as proper as you would have hoped, you weren't bothered. His flesh was warm against yours, even considering the layers of cloth between you both.

"I want to touch you" you whispered, you didn't mean for him to hear you though he had obviously. "No you don't" he assured, dropping his hands from your body completely as if a way to sway you though you didn't care for him.

"I do, and I shall if you promise to let me keep my hand" you teased, only half kidding as you brazenly reached out to barely let your fingers graze the raise flesh of his scar. 

It looked much worse than it felt and you wondered now why anyone thought of it as ghastly as they did. 

There was something almost beautiful about the scar, it was a symbol of his survival and if he couldn't be proud of that, then no one should be. Sandor sucked in a nervous breath as your cold flesh met his own, with his eyes still locked on your own. 

"I suppose I can keep this then?" you comment, waving your hand around lightly earning a throaty chuckle from him. "Ay, only if you keep it here" he allows, taking it in his own and pressing it over his heart, kept only apart by the metal of his armor.

The Hound may have been nothing more than the King's dog but after all, he was your saving grace.

[meganlpie]

More Fics for you!

Hiya, lovelies! I have your new list of fics!! Thank you for all the requests!! 

*An Avengers one-shot called “Graduation”: Steve Rogers/Avengers x fem!reader

*A GoT fic called “Surprise Agreement”: Sandor Clegane x fem!Stark reader

*Another Avengers fic titled “Prison Cell”: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

*Another GoT one-shot titled “Toy”: Sandor Clegane x fem!reader

*A SPN fic called “Love Yourself”: Death x plus sized!reader

*Another Tolkien one-shot titled “Skin-Changer”: Legolas x skin changer!reader

*A GoT fic called “Twinkle in His Eyes”: Jaime Lannister x fem!reader

There we go! Thank you all for your patience!! 

[plus-size-reader]

Stuck

Sandor Clegane x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1353 words

Warnings: none 

Summary: Being in love with Sandor but betrothed to the king and the two of you are heart broken because you cannot be together. All he can do is stand by while you marry another man. 

——————————————————————————————————

You had always cared greatly for the King’s hound, but that mattered not when your father forged the deal that would bond you to the boy king forever. 

It was true that you were a few years older than Joffrey, and you had no real business being married to a brute like the Hound but you didn’t care. 

Sandor had saved your life years ago, and you had never forgotten the kindness that he showed you. The others described him as some kind of horrible monster but he was nothing of the sort. 

In fact, you believed that the younger Clegane had more humanity in his little finger than most of the terribly cruel men in all of King's landing. He had simply never been allowed to show that part of himself.

Though, that didn’t change the fact that you’d seen it. 

You had seen that kindness in him when he rescued you, and you had no doubt that he would have to do it again if you really did have to marry that terrible little beast who called himself king. 

He was cruel. 

He had never been anything more than cruel but there was nothing you could do or say to convince anyone of that.

In fact, you almost wondered if your hatred of the Baratheon only sparked the union forward that much more. 

No one ever asked you what you wanted, but even if they did, they would never accept the truth. They would never accept the fact that a princess like you, sensible and kind, could ever have any semblance of feelings for a man like the hound. 

...Like Sandor. 

It just didn’t happen and you would never be allowed to be together, no matter how desperate you were. 

Tonight, for example, was your engagement party and you couldn’t have been more willing to skip it. You had no desire to be paraded around like a piece of meat while Joffrey spent all evening talking about himself. 

You would have rather done anything else, but you couldn’t exactly not be there. 

Perhaps the best thing about Joffrey’s ego though, was how simple he made it to slip away in the midst of his talking. All you had to do was excuse yourself and no one even moved to stop you. 

In truth, you were nothing more than a name for them and they didn’t care where you ran off to.Not to say that no one was paying attention. 

As you rushed off out of the throne room, there was one person on your heels. One person who actually cared about you, but you didn’t want to see him. You didn’t want to see anyone right now. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Sandor called, that usual gruffness in his tone. He would have tried to soften it if he was really thinking about it, but right now, there was no real point. 

You were both stuck and no amount of conversation would change that. 

“Away from there” you managed, tugging aggressively at the fabric of your dress that was threaded so tight that you could hardly breathe. The seamstress had been trying to hide the parts of you that the court deemed undesirable but right now, you couldn't have cared less. 

You had no interest in being desirable to that boy king anyway. 

“What are you doing? You’ll tear it” he tutted, swatting away your hand from the fabric, not that either of you really cared for the garment anyhow. If anything, Sandor was just trying to save you from the berating you’d receive if you looked imperfect upon returning. 

They were already cruel to you for your body, and he didn’t need them having any more to shame you for. 

However, you didn’t care about that right now. All you cared about was getting out of this stupid dress, and for that matter, getting out of this kingdom. 

You didn’t want to be here anymore. 

You didn’t want to marry him, and you didn’t want to be queen.

“I need to leave. I can’t be here one more second” You huffed, finally giving up with a heavy sigh. You couldn’t even believe that you’d managed to get yourself stuck in this position. 

How could you be so foolish? 

“You can’t leave, you know that” 

It was just a casual observation of the situation you found yourself in but that didn’t matter. At the very mention of it, you burst into hot tears of anger, knowing that everything was wrong. 

This whole thing was wrong. 

You should have been happy on the eve of your wedding. You should have been celebrating, drinking too much ale and eating your weight in breads and cheeses but you could hardly even think straight. 

...You should have been marrying the man you loved. 

“I hate them all! I won’t stay here” you yelled, only stopping when the much larger man cupped his hand over your lips. You both knew what would happen if anyone heard you going on like that.

Having to watch you marry another man was bad enough, Sandor wasn’t about to have you executed in the public square. 

“Hold your tongue. Don’t you know what they’ll do to you if they hear you talking like that?” he whispered, keeping his voice down, close to your ear as he held you. 

Neither of you was thrilled about this arrangement, but he wasn’t going to lose you over it. 

“You can do this, I know that you can” he hummed, his breath fanning the side of your face as he held you tight, and you weren’t sure, in that moment, if he was trying to convince you or himself. 

He didn’t seem all that sure. 

Not that you could blame him. 

In fact, you weren’t even sure if you understood the whole thing yourself. You weren’t sure if you could do it, or if it mattered at all. Whether you could or not, you didn’t have much of a choice. 

All you could do was sigh, allowing the much larger man to wrap you up in his arms for a few moments. 

If you had it your way, you would stay there forever, in the safety of his grasp. However, the outside world had other plans, plans that neither of you could stop. 

The world would keep spinning, whether or not you married the man you cared about. 

In fact, it seemed like the only two people who cared about who you loved were you and Sandor. No one else seemed to pay any mind to the very simple fact that you were in love. 

...it was inconsequential 

The fact that you cared so much for the King’s hound didn’t matter to anyone, and you were to be married whether or not you cared about him. 

No one seemed to mind that you would never have any sort of feeling toward him more than disgust and loathing. 

All that mattered to them was what they could gain from the union politically. 

“What if I didn’t do it? What would happen?” you whispered, your voice muffled in the armor Sandor was wearing, not that you really cared. 

There were a million different things on your mind, but more than anything, you couldn’t stop thinking about running away from here and never coming back.

It would never work, you knew that, but that didn’t make the idea of it any less alluring. 

“You know what would happen” the words were no less than a hum from the large man’s throat, but they vibrated through his chest all the same. 

...He had a point. 

If you tried to run away from this, you would certainly be killed. As best either of you knew, your head would probably be mounted on one of those spikes outside. 

As much as it killed Sandor to be without you, and to have to see you marry another man, seeing you there would be a fate worse than death. 

At least this way, he could make sure that you were protected...even if it had to be from a distance.