#the hound smut

[castieltrash1]

hiii since you're taking got requests and i saw sandor is one of your faves: there's this post that's like "submissive like a guard dog is submissive" (i hope this makes sense even if you don't know what i'm talking about) and it always makes me think of him bc he's. you know. the hound. so what i'm saying is anything sandor-related with a dom reader would be very appreciated since i've never really seen anyone write him like this before :] if that's not your thing, that's totally fine though !

oh dw anon u came to the right place <3

sandor clegane x gn!reader; smut, dom/sub dynamics, dog motif, the hound is ur beaten and battered guard dog <3 mentions of violence, strong language, etc.

it doesn’t matter how you meet. maybe he serves your family. maybe he’s kidnapped you. maybe you’re just some lowborn whore whose face he pushes into the mattress to avoid looking at when he’s fucking out his anger. at some point, regardless of the roots of your relationship, the hound begins to heel. it’s not always obvious -- especially if you’re not some little lady/lord he’d be beheaded for lifting a finger to -- but it’s there. he’s already spent most of his life like this, and being with you is no different. you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.

once he (somewhat) lets you in, the dynamic shifts. you’re not just his liege, his captive, the prettiest face at littlefinger’s silk street brothel -- you’re his. and that makes him yours, he thinks. it means taking care of you, giving you as much comfort and safety that he can offer in this hellish life. it’s the least you deserve for picking him, since now he’ll never let you leave. you’ve resigned yourself to a cruel, cold, and crass beast; who cares if he has to behead a man or two to keep you fed or hold an entire inn hostage just so you can sleep on a featherbed for the night? he’ll never say please or thank you, but he’ll always stand in front of you. he’ll always lean against the door in case someone tries to break in.

he’s not gentle. he’ll growl when you tug his hair, a makeshift collar threaded between your fingers, urging him between your legs or bringing him back up to your mouth. he’ll bark about breaking you in, splitting you in half, vulgar words foaming at his mouth the longer it goes on. and when you lock eyes with him, he’ll always crumble under the weight of your gaze, lowering his head in some twisted form of obedience. he’ll eat out of your palm and you’ll know there are mutts in volantis better fed than him.

“sandor?”

you could hear the resulting sigh from a mile away, the sound of his armor clanking as he heeds your call. when your eyes lock on his figure, he rolls his shoulders back, masking the way he bows his head as if it were nothing more than loosening a crick in his neck. it’s hard to tell when he’s blushing, but you swear there’s a hint of flush blooming down his neck. you think if you asked him to kneel right now, he might even do it.

“i’m hungry,” you say instead, making your way toward him with a small, knowing smile. “let’s go eat.”

+ you’d be better off never mentioning it, but the similarities between sandor and your average dog aren’t too far off. he sleeps like one, always either curled into a ball or sprawled halfway out of bed; huffing and kicking with night terrors. he slurps out of bowls and licks his plates clean. he’s good at sniffing out enemies, even better at finding their scent on you, teeth bared as he asks where you’ve been and who with. he loves being pet and, if you catch him in a good mood, he'll sometimes nuzzle against your hand. and when he’s got you on all fours, clawing at the sheets or floor while you scream his name, it’s not hard to see he's always been more animal than man.

game of thrones weekend (reqs open!)

[axelsagewrites]

Sandor Clegane*Brat

Pairing: sandor x f!princess!reader

Kinktober Day twenty-three: brat taming with Sandor Clegane – after growing sick of a princess’s bratty attitude Sandor decides to teach her how to behave

Word count: 2147

Warnings: brat taming, secret relationship, teasing, reader being a brat, jamie slut shaming, fingering, p in v sex, rough sex, spanking, degrading, swearing, smut 18+

Masterlist Here

Kinktober List Here

Your footsteps were somehow both silent and quicker than his horses, something Sandor loathed as he chased about after you. being your personal guard was apparently an honour however the past two years of this honour made him consider if locking princesses in a tower was still socially acceptable.

While sure you had your moments of being tolerable, sometimes even pleasant, to the giant they called your guard dog, right now was not one of them. Usually, he appreciated your sarcastic remarks to your younger brother Joffrey, agreeing with most of your snippy quips, however today it had led to a fight between you both.

This then led to you storming around the castle, with Sandor falling behind, then to a fight with your mother which Sandor had to listen to through a door despite being absolutely starving, then when he could finally go and eat you decided to go on a walk through the forest unannounced and he had to track you down and bring you back.

“Try not to get lost again princess,” Sandor said through gritted teeth, trying not to let his stomach grumble.

You rolled your eyes as you sat on your love seat in front of the fire. “I was never lost. You just couldn’t find me,”

Sandor rolled his eyes as he went to leave however Jamie fucking Lannister decided to stop him. “The queens requested for you to stay in this room and guard the princess,”

“What about my fucking break?” Sandor spat back, not having the same gentle voice as your uncle.

“Well, it will have to wait. There are Dornish ambassadors riding into court and we cannot risk her getting…lost again,” Jamie said, and you couldn’t help stifling a laugh making Sandor want to fling you out of a window. Jamie leaned in closer, whispering to Sandor and getting his slimy breath all over him, “Prince Oberyn is coming, and we cannot risk her sullying her reputation,” he said however only Sandor was able to hear him.

“But me staying in her room all night is fine?”

Jamie looked the hound up and down before putting on his most cunty smile, “Don’t worry. I don’t think anyone will question your activities. Goodnight Clegane, best behaviour princess,” Jamie called to you before leaving, the door slamming behind him.

Sandor Groaned as he began to strip off his cloak. Like fuck was he gonna be kitted up all night in this. “What did he whisper?” you asked, reaching over to grab a grape. Sandor couldn’t tell if the way you popped it in his mouth made him more hungry, horny, or fucking angry.

“Prince Oberyn is coming to court,” Sandor said as he tossed his cloak on a chair, “So I’ve to guard you all night so you don’t go falling in his bed,”

Most women would gasp or swoon or deny the accusation, but you just barked out a laugh. It was another one of your few redeeming qualities in Sandors eyes. “How much of a whore does he think I am?” you joked, picking up your wine.  Sandor stomped over to the table, snatching the wine from your grip before plopping down in a chair. “Hey!”

“Hay is for horses,” he grumbled, gulping down the wine, “You’ve been a fucking brat all day, the least you owe me is a drink,”

“My, my, swearing in front of a lady, a princess no less,” you tsked at him as Sandor began to unbuckle his armour, “Not very honourable of you ser,”

“I’m no ser,” he said, discarding the battered metal as he reached for the next piece, “And besides I’ve done far less honourable things to you than curse in front of you,” this was of course his favourite quality in his princess. Even when you annoyed him to his core you were still the best fuck he’s ever had. “Fuck you’ve said worse things than I have,”

“Like what?”

“You know what,” he chuckled, beginning to undo his breast plate which would leave him in just a shirt and trousers. “You and that dirty mouth of yours,” he said, thinking back to all the thoughts and whimpers you’d moaned in his ear.

He did his best not to meet your eyes as they travelled down his frame, “Watcha gonna do about it?” however sent a spark down his spine. Prince Oberyn was not the one they should be worried about sullying your reputation.

Sandor dropped the metal breast plate, ignoring the clatter in made as it hit the floor as he moved to stand in front of you. his hand gripped your jaw, easily holding your whole face as he made you look him in the eye, “Don’t test me princess. You’re already on thin fucking ice,”

“Why would I want to be on ice when I could be on your…” you said, eyes trailing down his frame with a fiery spark.

He growled as his lips smashed into yours for a brief kiss that knocked the air out of your lungs. He broke the kiss, pushing your frame back into the love seat making you gasp. Within seconds his boots were off, and his arm was around your waist, hosting you over his shoulder making you squeal. Your back hit the soft bed as you desperately tried to sit up, but he was already on top of you.

“How expensive is this dress?” he asked, his fingers trailing the neckline.

“Your annual salary,” you replied and gasped when a tear ripped through the air, “Sandor!” you gasped as the cold air washed over your bare chest, your nipples perking at the feeling.

He’d ripped it just enough to be able to pull it off your body without having to hassle with any ties or laces, “Please as if you wont just pout and get a new one,” he scoffed.

“I don’t pout!” you objected, now feeling more exposed under his hungry eyes.

Sandor laughed, his eyes moving from your tits back to your face, “All you do is pout princess. All fucking day,” he said, his hand cupping your jaw as his thumb tracked over your pouted lip, “And all day I’ve been having to look at these fucking lips,” he said, his thumb prying open your mouth so he could stick his thumb inside, pressing down on your tongue, “and think about how much better they’d look around my cock,”

His words sent a shiver down your spine that didn’t go unnoticed by Sandor. “Is someone excited?” he asked, his hand gripping your thigh before slipping between them. His fingers trailed up your slit and you felt his chest rumble as he chuckled, “So wet for me already,” he said, his smile dropping for a moment, “Suck,” he commanded.

Instantly you complied, sucking on his thumb and trying not to whine as he rubbed slow circles on your clit, “Good girl,” his head dipped, moving to kiss along your collar bones as his thumb slipped from your mouth. He rubbed the spit over your bottom lip before his hand moved to tilt your jaw up, giving him space to kiss softly up your neck.

You bit your lip, slight whimper escaping as he worked on your bundle of nerves. When his fingers slipped away you whined but gasped when you felt him push two in, “Cmon don’t act like you cant take it,” he chastised, nipping at your skin enough to make you gasp but never to leave a mark, “I’ve seen you take far bigger,” he said, grinding his bulge against your leg to emphasis what was to come.

His fingers began to curl slowly inside as his thumb rested over your clit. When you whined again, this time louder and enough to make his cock twitch in his trousers, he moved his other mouth to clamp over your mouth, “Quiet,” he grumbled, curling his fingers deeper making you moan against his hand, “You know the rules princess,”

You nodded, meeting his eyes for a moment before they shut as his fingers began to brush against a familiar spot. You could feel your peak soon arriving but when you felt him pull his fingers out not even his hand could fully cover the loud whine you made. “Gods you really are a desperate thing,” he chastised, his hands moving to squeeze your hips tightly.

Before you could protest, he’d flipped you on your stomach, hand coming down on your ass leaving a stinging slap. “Hey!” you whined only to be met with another slap.

“Behave,” he chastised, keeping one hand on your ass, fondling it as the other moved to push down his breeches, “Maybe if you behave I’ll let you finish around my cock,” he said, gripping it with one hand and with the other forcing you onto your knees, ass presented perfectly for him, “Bet you’d like that wouldn’t you? me fucking you silly like some whore,” he said, running his tip up and down your wet cunt making you whine.

Instead of responding you grabbed a pillow, moving to lay your face in it when Sandor suddenly grabbed your hair, “I asked you a fucking question,” he growled, his tip pushing in slightly as your back arched.

“Yes,” you stuttered out.

“Yes what?” he asked, pulling your hair tighter, pushing slightly further in.

“Yes, I want your cock please I need it,” you whined, your hips trying to move further back onto to be stopped by Sandor, “Please I’ll be good,”

Sandor let go of your hair, your body lurching forward as you fell back into the pillow, “Wonder when I’ve heard that before,” he grunted, his hands moving to squeeze the soft flesh of your ass refusing to push his tip any further in.

“I promise,” you whined, gripping at the pillow, “I’ll behave I promise I-fuck,” you whined as you felt his cock sink further in.

Sandor hissed as he felt your cunt squeeze around him as he pushed his way in till he felt himself fully inside. He left one more slap to your ass, smirking at the way you bit the pillow instead of protesting at the stinging slap, before he started to set a steady pace.

His thrusts were slow and precise at first, making your whole-body lurch forward as he fucked you and your fingers tightened in the sheets. He could hear the stifled whines you let out and reached forward to grab your hair once more, this time gentler as he turned your head till the pillow muffled your mouth. Before you could question him, you moaned into the fabric as his pace began to quicken.

His slow thrusts had turned into heavy pounds that shook your body and made a knot grow in your stomach. His spare hand moved to squeeze your hip one more time before slipping forward to rub fast circles onto your clit. His grunts and groans were like music to your ears as your legs began to quake but falling was not an option.

Sandor cursed at the way your cunt squeezed around his cock, sucking in breath as he screwed his eyes shut. Despite how hard it was for him not to finish right there he had a job to do. He bit his lip, opening his eyes to appreciate the sight beneath him.

He could hear your muffled moans through the pillow and felt the way your body jerked and squeezed around him. “Aw is my little princess gonna cum?” he teased, his thrusts growing harder, “does she deserve to cum around my cock?” he asked but your response was muffled. Sandor pulled your hair, lifting your mouth up from the pillow, “I asked you a question,”

“Please sir,” you moaned like music to his ears, “Fuck please let me please,” you begged.

“Do it then,” he grunted, shoving your face back into the pillow, “Cum around my cock like a good whore,” his words were all it took to push you over the edge as your peak crashed around you.

However, this was not going to make him stop. Instead, his thrusts became harder and less precise as he fucked you mercilessly chasing his high while you rode yours out with eyes rolled back into your skull. It didn’t take long for him to feel the familiar twitch and suddenly pull out. With only two more jerks his seed spilled across your ass as his eyes screwed shut. “Fuck,” he gasped once he felt he could breathe again. Gently he moved his arms to lay you down on the bed.

You were too busy catching your breath to notice him searching for something till you felt him running a damp cloth over your ass to clean you up. “Still think I’m a brat?” you asked, still trying to catch your breath.

“Fuck yes. But you’re my brat,”

Taglist: @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy  @valeskafics

[honeyxbunny99]

Sandor Clegane~ The Bitch and The Hound pt.4

Sandor wasted little time in moving from your mouth to your neck, his hands ran through your hair and kneaded your breasts as if he was starving for you. Your brain could hardly comprehend the switch in his desires for you but you tried not to jinx it with overthinking. You decided to only live fully in the moment, as it felt like the most exciting thing that had ever happened to you. At last you could do whatever you wanted to him, he was yours in that moment and you were his.

He nipped under your earlobe and you exhaled a "Yes!" born of pleasure. He bit down harder where your neck and shoulder joined and you let out your first loud moan. Sandor growled, only fueling your fire and you wrapped your legs around his hips, desperately trying to get some friction where you needed it most. One large hand grabbed your thigh and squeezed before he pushed his hips into yours.

"Fuck--" He muttered under his breath, pulling away from your neck only to pull your dress down to reveal your breasts and latch his mouth onto one of your piqued nipples. You arched your chest up into his mouth and directed both hands to pull his hair. He sucked and bit one and pinched the other and it sent your heart beat between your legs and your skin erupted in goosebumps in spite of the heat between you. It was at this point you realized how many sounds you were making and, fearing someone would hear, you brought one hand to cover your mouth. You tried hard to steady your breathing through your nose but the way that Sandor was pressing against you made it a nearly impossible task.

Suddenly he pulled away and looked cross with you. "If you cover your mouth again, I'll stop."

You furrowed your brows. "But--"

"I want to hear you scream tonight," he dragged his hand up to your throat and applied only a bit of pressure, just enough to dizzy you. "Are you going to deny me that, princess?" You shook your head and he nodded, a sort of crazed smile pulling on his mouth. "Good girl."

The hand that was at your throat drifted down your breasts, your stomach still covered by the dress, until it finally creeped its way between your thighs. His smile grew cocky as he rubbed his fingers against the wetness you'd created. You blushed as he repeated the phrase, "Good girl... All this for me?" His finger brushed against your sensitive bundle and you trembled and moaned.

"Please, Sandor... Please don't tease me..."

Your face scrunched up in a near pout as he sank down off of the bed. Quickly he grabbed your thighs and pulled you so that your legs were hanging off of the edge. You gasped at his actions, at how easily he could control you, and grew insecure and confused when he sank down to his knees and threw your legs atop his shoulders. His eyes were locked in now on your flower; he looked upon you as if you were a feast and he hadn’t eaten in days.

"Why shouldn't I tease?.. You dont think," he kissed your left inner thigh. "I've earned the right," Then he kissed your right. "to a little payback?"

You sat up on your elbows and watched in disbelief as he sank his head under your dress and began to devour your flower with his mouth.

"What are you--Oh!" You clenched your eyes shut and tried to close your thighs in reaction to him, but he made sure your legs stayed put. The pleasure was indescribable; you had never even heard of such a thing. You moaned again as he relentlessly lapped up all of your nectar. Your arms felt weak and so you threw yourself back against the bed, surrendering to this new delicious torture. Suddenly his tongue grazed a spot more sensitive than the rest and you let out another loud moan and thrust your hips instinctively, chasing that high. Sandor expertly obliged swirling his tongue over and over again in a spot you didn’t even know you had, and you felt a pressure build in your stomach. Your moans grew higher in pitch, more desperate, and again, you covered your mouth with both hands now. He stopped.

"I hate repeating myself, girl. What happens if you cover that pretty little mouth of yours?"

You whimpered in response, begging him with your eyes to continue.

"Use your words." He chided.

"You stop..." You sounded like a bratty child and he smirked down at you. One of his fingers quickly found your sensitive nub again and he swirled circles around it, watching you approach your high to ensure you didn't cover your mouth again. When you became a writhing, moaning mess he decided to gently slip a finger into your entrance, making you gasp and try to sit up.

"Take it." He commanded, voice low and heavy with lust as he pushed you back down with his other hand. "Take it like the good girl I know you are..."

At last one whole finger pumped in and out of you, curling against your insides until you felt something snap inside you. You shuttered against his hand, moans and curses falling in a tangled spell from your lips. The knot in your stomach tightened again and you began to cry out, "Yes, yes, yes!" Sandor at last returned his mouth to its rightful place between your thighs and with a few laps from his tongue, you were finsihed. The knot in your stomach unwound and your eyes welled with tears of pleasure; your moans practically echoed off the walls as you pressed your husband's face even closer against you, riding out your waves of pleasure. His hands dug into both of your hips and he nuzzled his face in even closer, cleaning you completely. Finally, he pulled away panting.

"Oh fuck, fuck, what was that?" You felt dizzy, silly, sweaty and you weren't even sure if you were making sense, but you tried to sit up again. Sandor rose up from the ground and leaned down to kiss you. You could taste yourself on his tongue and moaned again.

"Something I've wanted to do since our wedding night."

You leaned up and kissed him again, hands around the back of his neck to steady yourself. You wanted more of him, all of him. Your hands trailed down his chest, his stomach, to the waistline of his pants. He growled and pulled away.

"You sure you want this?" His eyes searched yours for a lie.

"Sandor Clegane, if you don't fuck me right now I'll die." You joked and he laughed breathlessly.

Your fingers slipped under his breeches and slid them off. He hovered over you as you finally saw what they had been hiding. Massive, as anticipated, but not as terrifying as you thought a cock would be. You considered the difference in your size for a moment and looked up at Sandor.

"Will it.. fit?"

"I'll make it fit." He assured.

You nodded, trusting him. He brought a hand up and caressed your cheek, and you leaned into it, turning slightly to kiss his palm and his skilled fingers.

"Have you really never done this?"

It was unbelievable to him that he could be so blessed with a mate like you, and by Joffrey no less. You shook your head softly and he sighed. The look in your eyes read both innocence and desire, and it was all for him. He almost didn't want to corrupt you, but the throb in his dick was becoming painful.

"This is gonna hurt then." He resolved before picking you up bridal style and carrying you over to your side of the bed.

He laid you down gently and thought for a moment about how best to do this. You were now completely naked and sprawled out before him like a goddess, (h/c) hair clinging to the sweat on your temples. The way Sandor looked at you only made you desire him more than ever and you opened your arms to him, practically begging for him to come back to you. He obliged, climbing on top of you. It now seemed he was the nervous one. His manhood rested against your thigh; it would be a lie to say you weren��t nervous but your desire for him was strong enough to conquer your fear.

"Kiss me." You ordered and he smiled, brushing hair out of your face, and leaning downs to grant your wish. The kiss this time was more gentle, as if it meant something more than just lust. "I want you, Sandor.” You kissed him again. “I don't care if it hurts..” you opened your mouth for his tongue to enter again and you felt him throb against your leg and he let out a small moan into your mouth. You pulled back, biting his lip as you did so, causing him to suck air through his teeth and look down at you in shock. “I trust you with my life." You admit. You leaned your head up to lick and nip at his throat this time, and earned another sharp breath from him.

"Careful, girl." He warned again.

"Or what?" You quipped, feeling bold enough to reach out and graze your fingers along his manhood, still stood at attention. The sound he released was too interesting to cease your actions and so you continued, wrapping your hand around it and stroking up and down, smearing him in his own precum. He lurched forward into your hand and you both moaned. He pushed you to lay down again and took himself in his hand, stroking a few times before aligning with your entrance. He leaned down, the pressure on your cunt filling your stomach with butterflies. He nipped your ear and said, "I'll try to be gentle, but I make no promises..."

You nodded and kissed him again. It was your new favorite activity, after all, and you would be sure to do it whenever you could. His cock ran up and down, in circles around your entrance and you moaned into his mouth. Inch by inch he slowly slid himself in, his teeth clenched and breath in a hiss. He pressed his forehead against yours and you shared breath. It did hurt, like Anna had warned you. You felt as though you were being split in half, but remembered that she assured you it was normal. You looked down between your bodies, face tight in pain. ~Just a little bit more~, you thought. Sandor claimed your mouth in a kiss again as he finally filled you completely. You whimpered and he panted. Tears left your eyes against your will and you hoped he did not see. But he did, and he stilled in you and kissed away the saltiness on your cheeks. He pulled out slowly, not completely, and thrust back in.

“Hold onto me, love.” ~Love?~ In that moment, you truly felt it. Your hands went to his back and you dug your nails in, resulting in a groan from him. His pace quickened and the pain dissipated. The sensation of being full was something you never wanted to lose, but God did it feel good when he pulled out and pushed back in.

“Oh, Gods!” You murmured against his shoulder, nails scratching down his toned back now.

“Seven Hells, woman!” He exclaimed, leaning up to watch your breasts bounce with every hard thrust.

Soon the familiar knot was bound in your stomach again and you moaned louder than ever. “Please please don’t stop, Oh God, fuck me, Sandor!” “Fuck!” He swore and his thrusts grew sloppy as he brought his hand down to rub delicious circles on your bundle of nerves again. It took only a few seconds before the combination had your eyes rolling back in your head and your orgasm ripping through you again. You clenched around him, biting his shoulder to hold back a scream and he pulled out quickly, leaving you feeling empty. You whimpered at the loss before warm liquid shot out across your stomach and boobs. Your husband groaned and growled as he stroked himself to completion. Then he collapsed beside you, the pair of you breathless, drenched fools.

“Fuck.” You both said simultaneously and he started to laugh.

You smiled at him but couldn’t bring yourself to laugh. You turned your sore yet buzzing body to face him. “Something funny?”

He covered his face with both hands for a moment and shook his head. Then he turned to you, looked you up and down, and said “C’mere, woman.”

You squinted your eyes in suspicion but began to lift yourself to close the distance between you. He grabbed you by your waist without warning and picked you up as if you were a doll, and you were placed straddling his stomach. “I just can’t believe it, s’all…” His eyes roamed over your messy hair, your love-drunk face, your perfect tits and torso decorated with his seed, and that delicious little cunt you’d given only to him.

“Can’t believe what?” You said, feeling a little shy under his gaze in spite of all that just occurred.

“I can’t believe you’re mine.”

You smiled softly at the revelation and took his hands in yours, guiding them to stroke up and down your body. “And you’re mine.” You agreed, finally leaning forward to run your hands through his hair. Finally your fingers focused gently on the burn scars. They felt just like yours.

“Does it still hurt?” He didn’t answer. “You can touch mine.” You offered, adjusting his hand so that he could feel your secret trauma. He stroked his thumb across your thigh but maintained eye contact.

“It doesn’t hurt when you touch me.” He admit.

You wondered for a moment, if it remained acceptable to kiss him outside of sex, as you desperately wanted to do so.

“May I kiss you?”

He laughed again, you relished in his smile and matched it with your own. “We’ve just done a lot more than that!” He spoke as though you were ridiculous, but leaned up to meet your kiss anyways. After you pulled away you sighed contentedly and settled down against the crook of his neck, his arm enveloping you to stay close to his hot body.

“It’s usually not that quick.. It’s NEVER been that quick, not even my first time.” He admit, eyes watching the ceiling in memory. “I’ve never had anyone like you before.” He said.

“I’m sorry…” you were embarrassed and he scoffed.

“(Y/n) it’s a good thing… You’re… I don’t know how I can explain it to you.” He huffed and grabbed your hand. “Make a point.” He instructed and you stuck your index finger out. “Now slip it into my hand.” He had clenched his fist into a loose grip and you stuck your finger in and out, blushing and not understanding. “Right, that’s everyone else.” He said nonchalantly. “Now this one’s gonna be you, go on, stick it in.” His fist closed a little more and you smirked at his attempt to explain. The moment you slipped your finger in, he captured it and wouldn’t let go.

“Ow!” You yelped laughing as you struggled to free your finger. Soon it turned into a full on wrestle with feet and opposite hands shoving each other, trying to get a grip on yourself. He smiled and you laughed, finally beating on his chest. “And you like that, huh?” You were still confused.

At last he released your finger, now sore from the struggle. He sighed. “It was good. It’ll be better next time, when I don’t have to worry about going slow.” He brushed your hair smooth with his sweaty palms and you winced. “Perhaps. Perhaps I’ll take charge of the next time, if and when it happens.” You laid down, feeling utterly tuckered out.

“It will happen.” He stated and you smirked. “And I’ll still be in control.”

You bit your lip in excitement. As your eye lids grew heavy, you yawned, and Sandor watched you from his seated position beside you. “Thank you.. for wanting me.” You mumbled, allowing sleep to overcome you.

“Damn near impossible not to…” Sandor spoke to himself. He walked to the bathroom to splash his face with cool water but stopped when he saw his reflection in the mirror. His expression had been light, glowing with sweat, and for a second he thought he might be able to see the handsome man you claimed to see in him. But he turned his face to reveal his marred skin and frowned again. He felt shame wash over him. Guilt. Vulnerability. How could he have touched you, consumed you, defiled you like that? How could you have let him? He was a monster. He remembered every story he’d heard about himself all too well, and the way the whores scurried away or closed their eyes when he fucked them. Yet the way you responded to his touch was what he’d always wanted. You gave him a gift, and thanked him for taking it. He turned away from the mirror again, before he could grow too angry.

What could he give you in return? He had no money; only lived a pampered lifestyle so long as he stayed loyal to those cunt Lannisters. His name was born of violence, not nobility as you deserved. No land, no family, no plan for a future. He planned to die serving the king, taking revenge on his bastard brother, or drinking himself to death. He wanted none of that now that he had you. He exited the bathroom and looked down upon you on the bed again, smooth skin barely visible now in the darkness.

He kneeled beside the bed and gently traced random symbols on your waist, causing you to shutter and groan, though you did not waken. He smiled softly at your reaction and went over in his mind all the things that made you perfect for him.

Your dirty mouth, the way you always stood up for yourself, your stories and how you could always find something to talk about, your kindness and understanding, your patience, your sex appeal, the way you fit perfectly in his hands…

He had been struck when your father presented you to the king, as he was certain many others were as well. You were beautiful, but that fake smile could use some work, he had thought. When Joffrey assaulted you, he made no move to help. He didn’t care. He didn’t think of you, only of what a little prick the boy was. When you cursed at the king, you struck him again. He didn’t expect you to be that brave, or that dumb. He expected they’d kill you then and there, and at the time he would have made no move to stop them. He knew only to look out for himself and spare the so called innocent when he could, but you he couldn’t do anything for. Then he was told to take you. As you struggled against him, he thought you a burden. A pretty burden, but one that would only take up space in his room until you killed yourself or died trying to escape. He never planned to fight you, comfort you,trust you, fuck you, love you. Mere days ago, the thought of someone like you desiring someone like him would have made him burst into a fit of laughter on a good day… bloody any man who suggested it on a bad day. Yet here he was, practically worshipping you, after he’d claimed you, after you’d begged for him. If anyone tried to hurt you now or take you away from him, he’d kill them. Even Joffrey. He didn’t plan for any of this, and now he felt compelled to plan for everything. A future, with you in it.

“Aye, I was born to be YOUR protector… Maybe your book was right, silly little princess.”

[bloodstained-porcelain-doll]

Heel to her Master, ch. 1 - Sandor Clegane x reader

Read on AO3

Summary: The handmaiden finds him terrifying yet intriguing. The Hound finds her wildly attractive. He stakes his claim. Warnings: Eventual smut, dub con, public humiliation, bdsm, Master/pet dynamic

“A bear there was a bear, a bear… all black and brown and covered in hair!” The patrons at the tavern sang and laughed, clinking their cups of ale. The handmaiden laughed and danced along with the other ladies in the tavern, hooking their arms together and swinging their feet in unison to the song.

“She kicked and wailed the maid so fair but he licked the honey from her hair…” the men continued singing. The handmaid frequented this tavern, enjoying the song and dance with her friends after long days in lady Sansa’s service. 

   The singing suddenly came to an abrupt halt. She raised her head to see why the men had stopped. A large form came through the door, casting a dim aura over the tavern. Chatter died down, cups of ale were set down on the tables and all eyes shifted to the big man. The dark eyes of the Hound landed on the handmaiden. She held his gaze for only a second before his scowl had her averting her eyes. Sandor Clegane terrified her.

   Given that she was in the service of lady Sansa, and Sansa was betrothed to Joffrey, she oft found herself close to the Hound. It seemed he always glared holes into her when he looked at her. She could never hold his gaze for more than a few seconds, resorting instead to looking at the floor if she found herself in need of speaking with him. Yet she stole glances when he didn’t notice. When he was occupied with his duties, when he spoke to Joffrey or other members of the Court, or when he fought. That’s when the handmaiden watched him with great fascination.

   She particularly enjoyed when he sneered at other people, and the way he barked to scare others away from him. And she took great pleasure in watching him cut other men down with ease during tourneys. A secret she would take her grave was that the Hound often visited her in her dreams when she was alone in her bed at night. His voice growled commands in her ear, it was she who was on the receiving end of his sneers and his insults. Sometimes he even used his knife to cut her dress off when he wouldn’t bother with the laces. The fantasies always left her wet and panting.

   The Hound’s eyes left her after what felt like an eternity, and he took a seat at one of the tables. A tavern keep quickly arrived with ale for him and his companions. His eyes met the handmaid’s again when he took big gulp of his drink.

   “Girl,” he called. She couldn’t help but shiver at his gruff voice. She looked up, anxiously. “Come here,” he said, leaving no room for question. He was the person in this establishment with the highest rank. Disobeying wouldn’t do. She patted down her dress nervously and set one foot in front of the other until she was standing next to the Hound’s table. She curtsied. The act made him laugh. In her fantasies, sometimes he would laugh at her. When she whimpered as he beat her bottom red with his large hands, he would laugh at her and hit her even harder. She felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

   “How may I be of service?” she asked quietly. The Hound’s companions laughed.

“Look at me, pup,” he ordered. Pup, he called her sometimes. She didn’t know why or how it started. She was too scared to ask him, yet the pet name had the butterflies in her belly doing cartwheels. She inhaled and lifted her head, looking into the Hound’s dark eyes. He looked her up and down, taking note of how her yellow dress clung to her hips, and her chest heaved still from all the dancing. Had he not been the Hound, she would have thought he liked what he saw.

   “Terrified of me, this one,” he said, turning his eyes away and looking back at his companions. “In lady Sansa’s service. Follows her around like a lost puppy looking for her Master.” So that’s where the pet name originated. She averted her eyes again when the Hound talked to his companions, but she yelped as she was suddenly yanked forwards by her wrist. The Hound had it in a tight grip, forcing her to lean forward with her torso over the table.

   “I said look at me,” he growled. With tears in her eyes, she obeyed. Once again his companions laughed at her.

   “Perhaps you should be her Master, Clegane,” one said.

   “She’s a pretty little thing, he would wreck her,” another chimed in. A foul grin spread across the Hound’s lips, and the handmaiden’s lip quivered. In fear, in pain or arousal she wasn’t sure.   “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he asked, quietly this time. She wasn’t sure what to say, wasn’t sure she could say anything, so she just gulped and forced herself to keep looking at him. He released her wrist. “Scram, pup.” She scrambled to her feet and left quickly, deciding that she’d had enough fun at the tavern for tonight.

[first-edition]

Fox and the Hound

Sandor Clegane x reader

Chapter 5

Read previous chapter here

Sum-Joffrey wants to send a message to your family after your brother embarrasses him, so he marries you off to his most unwanted man in his court, the hound. But will this marriage truly be a statement for an eyesore, or will it grow into something more. 

Cw for the chapter- SMUT! 18+, pinv, unprotected sex, female genitals, fem reader, bruises, size kink (if you squint), 18+ themes and lanaguage, nakedness.

Entering your chambers for the night you let your handmaidens undress you and get you into night wear before you send them away for the night. You sit on the bed brushing your hair out as a book is propped up open to the pages you've been reading. 

The serenity of the reading is broken with the door opening and Sandor walks in having been cleaned off and changed armor sets for the rest of the day. Shocked at first why he’d be in here but then remembering it is supposed to be your shared chambers. 

You watch as Sandor places down his sword and walks to the large chair by the fireplace. He drags the chair a far distance from the fire but still enough to barely feel its warmth. You've arrived at your room late. You now wonder what time it is now you had time to undress, bathe and read for around an hour. You close your book and get up. As you see him, he sits in the chair. 

“I thought I told the servants not to place this fucking chair here!” He bellows angrily at the events of the day. 

“Sandor.” You speak. 

“And I thought I told you NOT TO CALL ME THAT!” He yells slumping down into the chair. You walk over to him. 

“Take off your armor or I can call in the servants to come help you” you say. 

“I don't want servants here.” He grumbles. 

“May I help you?” You ask boldly he gives you a glare before his gaze softens once his eyes focus on your features, soft and comforting. 

He reluctantly nods as you move closer to him. You step into the space between his legs and reach to the side of him the smell of the lavender and pine scented bath you took earlier fills his noise with the comforting smell of you. 

“I want to apologize to you…I didn’t mean it…what I said. I don’t hate you. You’re actually very hard to hate.” You say Your fingers fiddle with the clasps getting them undone taking off the chest pieces and untying the rest picking it up off him and setting it to the side of the chair. 

He doesn't answer your comment As you stand back up to remove the chain metal he wears underneath, you stop for a second as his hands place themselves on your waist feeling up and down the sides of your body. His large hands basically engulf you as he pulls you closer to him. 

“I-i need to get this off you.” You say. He doesn't answer, mesmerized by the way you fit in his hands. 

“Sandor?” You ask him. He looks up at you briefly before pulling his hands away for you to remove the last garment, setting it down along with the other armor. He sits left in the white cotton tunic and black slacks. His hands return to their original position against you firmly placed in this chosen spot. 

You take the opportunity to place your hands against his cheeks, your thumb brushing against his cheek, the texture of his scar under your fingertips, the scruff of his stubble against your palm. He flinches at first but lets you feel the left side of his face. 

He frowns as he looks up at you seemingly confused by something about you. 

“What is it? What's wro-“ he stands suddenly but doesn't let you go. He pulls you into him and smashes his lips against yours in a deep kiss. You let out a small noise as he grips your skin and the fabric of your night dress, the thin fabric allowing him to barely feel your skin. 

He pulls back from you feeling your hands move down to his rest on his chest. Looking down at you, your height difference becomes apparent. You’ve stood on your toes and strained your neck to kiss him. his eyes wander your expression he's about to pull back from you when you grip his shirt. 

“Dont.” You speak. 

“Don't leave. Not tonight. Please.” You continue waiting for his reaction. He leans back into you carefully. But you eventually become annoyed and pull him to you kissing him. He easily rips the fabric of your gown off you letting it fall to the ground before picking you up and walking you to the bed, lips still attached.

His hand travels down your side, hiking up your leg by the thigh. He pulls away from the kiss when you pull his shirt off his large toned chest and arms perfect under your touch. You’d never truly realized it before, how handsome Sandor was, how careful.  All the fearful things the women of the court were saying about sex had disappeared as his hands roamed your body and lips kissed your most tender parts. Your hands wandered his strong back and arms. 

Your breast disappears in his grasp as he squeezes it lightly. His kisses moving down your jaw line to your neck. Surly making marks. His hand moves down your front his fingers finding your cunt. Swiping over the fold spreads you to perfectly find your clit making you gasp out a noise you've never made before as you grip onto sador. He continues swirling your fingers around your clit.

“S-sandor.” you call out his name as pleasure surges through your body in waves. His finger passes through your folds as he inserts a digit into you. Thick and rough the perfect texture to bring a moan from your lips. 

“So beautiful sandoe speaks quietly as he watches his finger disappear into your pussy. Your soft wet walls are perfectly lubricating to move another finger into you. The stretch is slightly uncomfortable but it's soon replaced with the pleasure you felt from before. Hooking his fingers upwards pressing them against the spongy spot in you your back arches as a stronger wave of pleasure fills you. 

His gestures against your clit and movement in your pussy cause you to cum, your nails digging into his back clutching onto him which he allows. Your whimpers muffled in the crook of his neck as you shut your eyes, the pleasure becoming overwhelming. 

“It's alright little fox..” he says before pulling his hand away for your parts. You pant as he removes your arms from his body. You feel him pull away from you. You open your eyes to see why immediately feeling self conscious about your fully nude state despite him removing the rest of his garments. Your breath hitches to a halt when your eyes come to contact with the rest of his body. 

You sit up to your knees scooting closer to him standing on your knees at the edge of the bed. Your hands touch his chest feeling the scars that littler his body. He takes your wrist in his hand when you reach for a specific scar. Your eyes look up to his face, his expression back to his usual stern one. 

“I-i'm sorry i-” 

“Dont.” he says before leaning you back down. His hands moving under your knees pulling your thighs up spreading your legs. You turn your head away when he takes his place between you. 

“Look at me.” he says you take a breath and turn to look at him. 

“Are you scared?” he says. 

“Yes…of many things.” you say 

“Are you scared of me?” he asks 

“No…it's not you, I'm scared of sandor. Im scared of the pain.” you say. He leans down to releasing your legs but the sheer size of his body is enough to keep them apart. 

“I won't hurt you little fox.” he says, his thumb caressing your cheek. 

“I want you…sandor..please.” you whine out he grunts your words have gone straight to hardened cock. He looks down your body moving himself to line up with your entrance pushing in. having got  a glimpse at his extremities he is large no doubt what the other women have said. Perhaps he will split you into one. 

“Ngh.” you grip his bicep as the once pleasure you felt form him filling you with his fingers is long forgotten with the pressure from his connecting with you. He continues pushing into you although it's painful you do hope that it won't always be this way. The first man to be in your bed, taking your maidenhead, Sandor “the hound” Clegane.

your nails claw at his shoulders as he thrusts down into you filling you, seating his cock in your cunt balls deep. 

“Ah!” you let out a yelp of tears slipping from your eyes. Trying your hardest not to let out another cry but one slips out regardless. 

“Dont cry.” you hear him as he kisses your face in attempts to distract you from the discomfort between your legs as he moves softly thrusting his hips back and forth against you. He grunts at the feeling of you around him. The three women who he’s ever bedded with never felt the way you do right now, perhaps it was because they weren't virgins, perhaps because they were experienced in letting men do what they want to them. 

The softness of your skin and the tightness of your cunt threaten to make him cum before he's done with you. He looks down upon your face softening as you've adjusted to him and the pleasure his fingers brought you now prominent in your body. 

you whined at the sensation of his cock dragging against your walls as they molded around him. 

His arms propping him up as your small body rests under him gripping onto him like a koala as he thrust into you. Moan and grunts filling the room. The lewd sound of skin against skin and wet noises from where you connect. Your juices mixed with the small amount of blood gain from breaking your hymen. 

“F-fuck y/n.'' Sandor grunts as he pulls your thigh up to him sitting on the bone of his hip. He doesn't struggle to hold himself up with only one arm which you find arousing and impressive. 

Your moans and his name filling your mouth continues to drive straight to his aching cock as he shifts in position gripping your hips as he sits back your ass off the bed your arms have fell to the side as he continues to fuck you loosing himself in you not realsing how rough hes being. You moan become yelps of pleasure as his left hand stays grasping your hip in place and his right gripping your bouncing breast. His large thumb palming at your budded nipple. 

“S-sandor A-ah ah.” You moan out as he leans into you again, someone thrusting deeper and harder into you surly hitting the entrance of your womb. You've never thought the act of sex could be so pleasurable but that of course comes with the correct partner. The way your bodies fit with each other could never have been foreseen. Your pussy being filled by his dick. 

“Fuck.” he grunts out as he grips the head board of bed pulling your leg over his shoulder the new position stretching you out as you clench around him that same wave over pleasure from his finger rushing through you as you experience your second orgasam. 

His grip on your thigh tightens as his cock throbs in you.with a few more rough thrusts he cums filling you. The sensation of him throbbing against you makes your eyes roll back and shut as you claw at his back. Surely making him. Slowing down you pull him into you sharing a kiss. 

Your hands resting upon his cheeks keeping him in place of you. Pulling away only for a quick breath does he look down at your body muttering another curse word. You kiss his face. He places another kiss on your lips reluctantly pulling away from you his forehead resting on your a pained expression on his face as if it could be one of regret.

—----

Morning wakes you were woken by your ladies in waiting. Drawing a bath, cleaning the room and opening the curtains. You looked to your side to also see yourself alone.

Recalling the after event, Sandor stayed with you until you can remember sleeping. You reasted your head on his chest as you both lay under the sheets of clothing and garments scattered across the chamber. You could hear his heart beat slow, heavy and calm. You wondered if would race the whole day and then he came to you for relaxation. His large hands ran up and down your body as your leg was draped over his waist. His fingers caress your bruising skin where he held onto you.

 You sit up in bed, holding the covers close to your body, feeling every part of you to be deliciously sore, never having a feeling is way. You see one of the women picking up the chair to move it back by the fireplace. 

“No Dont. Dont move it back please.” you say she places it back in the spot. You look around the room not seeing any of sandors armor he shed. You reached out for your robe as a maiden ran to your side to help you put it over your naked body. 

A gasp leaves her mouth as she looks at you prompting the other ladies to turn your way. 

“What? What is it?” you ask looking back at the messy bed before looking back at her. 

“Y-your body my lady.” she says you frown looking over to the full length mirror by the dresser as you pull off the robe letting it drop to the floor you see your body bruised everywhere.

“Did lord clegane do this?” another asks. 

You ignore her ask and look at the love bites that mark up your neck and breasts, a bruise along your ribs where the hound held you as well as a large handprint-like mark on your thigh. The marks on your wrist and arms. A smile forms across your face as the memories flood into your mind. 

The door of your room suddenly opens and closes as sandor walks in stopping in his tracks he sees you standing in front of the mirror the marks scattering your body. You turn to look at him, your smile fading when you see his rough expression as he looks around the room at your hand maids. 

When you fell asleep he stayed awake just watching your then way you even slept beautifully however once he saw the day begin to brighten at dawn he got up and dressed leaving to go to do his duty as a kings guard but he was fully intending on coming back to see you wake. And he would have if your maidens hadn't come in earlier than usual. 

“Sandor-” you speak but he turns and walks out with a snarl. 

“S-sandor!” you call as you put your robe back on running after him your bare feet hitting the cold stone of the castle flooring. You open the doors running after him, his long strides already taking him halfway down the hall. 

“Sandor!” you call out reaching him grabbing his hand he huffs and turns to you.

“Good Morning.” you say with a smile. He doesn't answer, just looks down at you. His other hand rested on the handle of his sword. Your smile fades as you 're not happy about something. 

“What's wrong?” you ask. He looks behind you seeing your handmaid's watching you. 

“They are watching to see if i'll hurt you again.” he says deeply before looking back at you. 

“Again?” you ask his eyes to drop down to the rest of you. You open your mouth to speak, to tell him you are far from hurt, but he pulls his hand away from you pulling off his cape and drapes it around you as your robe is slightly see through. 

He nods to you before walking away. 

“My lady the maester is here for you.” your maid says to you. You turn around seeing the grand maester standing with the rest of the girls having been called when they were frightened by your bruises. Angrily you march back to the door of your room. 

“I'M FINE, NOW LEAVE ME ALONE!” You shout before opening the doors to your room closing and locking the latch.

—---

Closed off in your room the rest of the day worries your hand maidens. You lay on the bed covers pulled over yourself. The knock on your door doesn't prompt you to move until you hear the voice behind it. 

“y/n it's me.” Sansa speaks. You look over twords the door. 

“Will you let me in? I haven't seen you all day, are you alright?” she asks. You move the covers off you and get out of bed and walk to the door reaching up to the latch. 

“Please.” she says. You sigh and unlatch the door opening it. You move to the side as you let her walk in. She wears a light pink dress with stones beaded into it. Closing the door behind her as she steps in. 

“Why have you not been out?” she asked. 

“I'm tired, Sansa. I'm tired of the new staff and the changes since I married Sandor last night. I mean...w-we..” you trail off walking back to your bed sitting on it pulling a pillow to your lap. 

“You what?” she asks. 

“You know..he came in angry and i offered him solace.” you say 

“You consummated?!” she exclaims sitting in front of you. 

You nod. 

“Are you alright? Did he hurt you? Did he force you!” she says take your hands in hers. 

“I'm fine and no! Not far from it. If anything I asked him. He was gentle, very gentle, and called me beautiful. We spent the rest of the night in each other's arms but when I woke this morning he was gone and my handmaidens had awoken me and commented on what he’d left behind. He came back to the room not long after and he got upset and stormed back off again.” you answer.

“What did he leave behind?” she asks, shaking her head in confusion. You take a breath about to explain but rather you show her. You move the sleeve of your robe exposing your shoulders and neck showing her the marks he left as well as the one on your wrist. 

“There's more on my thighs and torso.” you say wish a bashful smile. 

“y/n..!? How can you say he was gentle when this is the outcome? You are bruised from head to toe, littered in love bites.” she says 

“No no that's what i- ugh. He didn't hurt me, that's what they don't understand. Sandor did not hurt me. I don't feel the marks. I do believe I left him with more than a few marks myself.” you say biting your bottom lip looking down at your hands in your lap. 

“What do you mean?” she asks. 

“He had gotten up to cover us and I had scratched his back up..quite heavily.” you say. Sansa snorts a laugh leading you into a laugh as well.

“Did you tell him that you're not hurt?” she asked. 

“I tried but like I said he stormed off. I've been avoiding my maids all day.” you say

“Get dressed, I'll help you. You can come with me to oversee the annual kingdom festival.” she says 

“I don't really want t-”

“Jeoffry will be there.” you say you give her a disgusted look. 

“Now i really don't want to join y-” 

“If Joffrey is there, Sandor will be there.” she says give you a look. You roll your eyes and nod. 

“Fine..” you say. she smiles and hops off the bed as you do going to your dresser to pick out a dress for you.

Chapter 6 here

[just-some-random-blogger]

HEHEHEHHEHEHEH AHHHHHH SO HAPPY YOU LIKED IT BABY! we love hounds here ((((((((:

^ my fav gif of sandor ☺

Safe Keeping | 2

Part 1

"What say you, lady? Don't you think the Hound would make a fine husband? He would protect you, yes, and you would bare him many babes."

I curtsy again but this time, my voice falters when I speak, "I- I think he would," I turn to my left, "Lord Sandor would make a fine husband... a fine father."

Sandor Clegane x Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, forced marriage, enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, smut (dub con, primal play, PIV, rough sex), emotional unavailability, The Hound being abrasive, canon typical casual misogyny, baby fever, typos, etc.

A/N: you guys, i dont want to edit the summary from p1 so i wont. also for future me here are the asks i got for this fic [x] [x] [x] which is like 🤯 cos i thought id get 5 notes on this tbh HAHAH originally posted on ao3 but felt like posting it on here

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @otteropera @poisonsage808 @glitterandgoldfinds

I refused to leave my chambers when I woke.

Not only had I cried myself to sleep, but I had woken with puffy eyes and ended up crying all over again. I was glad that my doting handmaiden was so fiercely loyal to me. Lucy didn't think my weeping childish. She was understanding and eternally on my side. I am immensely grateful for it; I don't know what I would have done without her.

She helped me bathe and dress and eat, then entertained me with gossip from the servants,. For a while that was enough.

As the day passed though, my thoughts muddled and left me restless. I could not do anything but obsess over the fact my husband left me after wifing me up.

"Do you think he will come back tonight?" I mutter as I stare blankly at my reflection on the mirror.

Lucy ceases combing my hair and takes my chin in her fingers. Paired with a hand on my shoulder, she silently urges me to straighten my back from my seat. I do just that. She smiles at me through the mirror, "my lady, if you wish it, I will look for him and make him come to you."

I release a breath, "don't be ridiculous."

"I am not being ridiculous," she sets the brush down, "I am being serious."

I feel my throat tighten. My lips quiver but I refuse to break down in tears again. I shake my head rapidly, unwilling to speak, for I knew I would crack if I did.

Lucy frowns in concern then kneels down on my side, grabbing my hand, "my lady, I would die for you."

I screw my eyes shut and break into a whine, "please-"

"I owe you my life," she clasps my hand with hers and brings it to her cheek, "you freed me from my chains. You clothed me, fed me, and showed me kindness none of my masters have ever shown me before," she looks up at me with a solemn expression then repeats, "I would die for you."

I shake my head and lean into her, "live for me, Lucy. I've forgotten what's it was like before you and I don't want to remember."

She kisses my hand and presses her forehead on mine before standing, "I shall do as you command."

"I pray the gods will swiftly bless me with a child so that I will have other things to do than await my husband so helplessly and forlorn."

She stands behind me and gathers my hair back. She strokes my locks and offers me a smile through the mirror once more. I smile back at her this time around.

The comfort she offers me finally seeps through me as she massages my shoulders.

"Well, you said that he pleasured you," Lucy tilts her head, "women who have not been pleasured still bea-

"What's wrong with you?" he demands. The metal of his armor clanks. I eye the one Lucy tidied to the side, the one I undid the night before, and turn back to him. His brown eyes look at me with such intense accusation.

Lucy is cut off by the crashing open of the door. She and I both whip back, hearts in our mouths as we stare at our Lord Clegane, who was staring right back at us.

"No one has seen you all day," he says, "have you not left this room once?'

I feel my hands tremble. I cannot for the life of me find the words to speak. 

What did he even mean? How could he ask me this?

"She 'asn't," Lucy snaps, "milady has been feeling-"

"I wasn't talking to you, wench," the Hound does not turn to her when he says this. His eyes are very much still fixed on me, "I'm talking to my wife."

My wife. I look away. That's right, all that I am now is forfeit to him.

I gasp and turn back when I hear him marching over. Lucy places a protective hand on my shoulder and I find myself cowering into her touch. I clench my jaw and gulp when he stops in front of me.

He gazes upon me for the longest second of my life. He furrows his brows, "what's wrong with your fa-"

I flinch when he reaches out to my cheek.

Instantaneously, Lucy tightens her grip on me and blocks him, and Sandor cuts himself off and recoils before he can even touch my skin. He steps a few paces back then clenches his hand as if he'd gotten burnt.

Lucy's blood boils. She hisses, "yes," then harshly pronounces, "milord."

We both evade each other's gaze. Sandor's eyes finally land on Lucy, "has she been crying?"

Sandor turns away and twitches. He rolls his shoulders back and stretches his hands. He knocks on his chest plate. He looks to no one when he asks, "are you hurt?"

Lucy takes no care in masking her scoff or sigh. I take her arm and she watches me shake my head disapprovingly.

I do not look at anyone when I reply either, "I cannot say I'm not... lord husband."

When I dare too look at the Hound, he is already looking at me and suddenly speaks, "leave us, wench."

A thick silence builds in the room within a moment.

I turn to Lucy. She does not move an inch.

I give her an urging shake, but she is steadfast in her spot. Our Lord Clegane turns to her and grinds his teeth, "you will find I do not make habit of repeating myself."

I shoot up from my seat when Lucy presses forward and quips, "and you will find that I will not allow you to treat milady like this."

"Lucy!" I admonish, yanking her back.

Lucy glares daggers at him as I attempt to pacify and persuade her to leave us. Her eyes do not leave him as I sweep her out the room. I instruct her to walk around the gardens for a while then close the door after.

I press my back against the wooden surface as I look back to the man I was now alone with.

He finally breaks the silence, "you walk well enough."

Sandor watches me expectantly. I do not say a word, for I did not know what he wanted to hear.

I am dumbfounded by his choice of words. I dare not respond when I feel my lips quiver; instead, I nod quickly.

Sandor deeply furrows his brows. He shifts on his spot and chances a step in my direction, "why didn't you come out your room then?"

I lick my lips and shake my head. I turn away from him and mutter, "do I appear like I am in the state to be walking around when I look like this?"

"Like what?" he draws nearer.

I whip my head, "THIS!"

Sandor stops in his tracks. He looks at me, expressionless, "this what?"

I scoff in disbelief, feeling tears immediately soak my face. I whisper, "look at me."

"I am, with both eyes."

"And you see nothing?" I mutter shakily, "feel nothing?'

"Should I feel something?"

My chest sinks; it feels like it's caving in. He might as well gut me and spit on my bones. I turn to my feet and wipe my cheeks, "no. I suppose not."

Sandor curses under his breath. He rips at his collar, suddenly feeling his armour weigh down on him. He feels unbelievably hot. He clears his throat, "it hurts."

I look up at him.

"It hurts the first time, usually," he clarifies, "or in times you're not wet enough." He nods, "you were wet enough."

My entire being burns at his words, at his nonchalance. My face is searing in embarrassment and shame.

I want to scream at him, want to hurtle into him and demand to know why he left me, why he was so removed, but then I find the answers in my head. It dawns on me that he acted carelessly because he didn't care. He didn't want this. He didn't want me. All of it was forced. And so I hold my tongue.

Instead, I calmly explain, "my hurt is not bodily, Sandor."

Sandor's stomach rolls at the sound of his name.

"I was," I turn to space between us, "hurt that you left me. And-" I shake my head as tears rush from my eyes, "I've realized now that it's wrong of me to be."

I put a brave face on in spite of my weeping and hold his stare. The man is as stoic and hard as ever. I scoff at myself for feeling this way.

"Worry no longer, Hound," I open the door, "I will not cause you trouble again."

I step back and make way for him to exit.

He looks at me for what feels like an eternity then marches out the door.

"And have you-"

Lucy and I gasp and turn at once.

"-named it yet, Lady Clegane?"

I chuckle guilty, "Lord Varys."

The man nods to me in regard, "good morrow to you."

I curtsy to him, as does my handmaiden. Lucy lifts her skirt as inconspicuously as possible in hopes to block what was behind her.

Varys catches this and waves his hands, "there be no need for that, my dear. The stray is an obedient one, isn't it?"

I share a look with Lucy before we step back and reveal the dog behind us. Daisy was panting and wagging her tail. She had her front paw bent, for it had been broken and healed that way. I had a maester examine it. In the end, he said it was pointless to put a split because it would not fix her leg and Daisy just kept chewing it anyway.

Daisy closes her mouth and sniffs the man.

"Ah," Varys smiles at the creature, "may I pet it?"

Lucy nods and eagerly explains, "she's Daisy; she is incredibly sweet, milord."

Varys looks at me exaggeratedly, as though he was offended.

Varys cheerfully scratches the crown of the dog's head.

Though he laughs, my own face contorts into an opposite expression, "please make no note of it to my husband."

I continue, "she makes me happy."

"One does not need to be told that to know," he presses his lips together. He links his hands, "I imagine you must be rather heavyhearted since the arrival of your womanly bleeding."

I drop my gaze upon hearing this. The master of whispers truly knew all. Lucy turns to me, then back to him, "milord, it's not proper to mention these things."

Varys measures my reaction before turning to Lucy, "yes. I suppose one such as myself has no business speaking of such things." He raises a finger, "still, if you should ever need assistance with that or your stray, know that my services are available to you, my lady."

I smile at him and nod, "I thank you for it, Lord Varys."

"Do you think he will tell him?" Lucy asks as she grabs my arm.

With that, he walks away.

It was fate, I figured. I had not read in the gardens since the Hound berated me for it, and she came out of nowhere. When I imagine what would have happened to her if anyone else found her, I dread to think of the fact she could have been struck dead. The gods must have sent her to me, to remedy my sorrow and fill in for the absence of my Hound.

I sigh and turn Daisy.

I've only had her for few days but she's given me purpose. I named her Daisy because she turned up from a bush of daisies while I read in the gardens. I was shocked, puzzled with how she got there, and a little scared she would bite me. When I noticed her injury, I figured she must be very weak and offered her food. She had my heart the moment she licked my fingers.

I was meant to save Daisy, and she was meant to save me.

I shake my head, "I'll have someone keep her tonight."

The guard goes back to his post and spots the approaching giant. At first, he is unfazed by the Hound but fear quickly finds him when he realizes he was heading straight for him.

The Hound stops in his tracks when he witnesses what he does from afar. A blazing fury engulfs him as he watches two women walk away. The guard, who was spoken to, ogle their figures as they did.

Sandor laughs under his breath, but of course, nothing about this situation was funny to him.

He immediately charges when the guard is left alone, stupidly attending to an open crate-- he'll fucking bash it into his skull.

He does not speak. The Hound simply grabs him by the chest plate, lifts him up and slams him on to the stone wall. He was angry-- worse, he was irrational.

"Why was she speaking to you?!" he snaps, "what business do you have with her?!"

The guard does not waste a second in spilling his guts, "Lady Clegane paid me to watch her dog!" He sounded like he was about to piss his pants.

"What?!" he seethes.

"The crate! The crate! There's a dog in the crate!" 

Sandor shoves him away and walks toward the crate. Lo and behold, the Hound sees the mutt, fur a light shade of brown, tongue out as it pant, right arm curled up.

Lucy and I head back to my chambers after eating supper. Our chattering is abruptly cut when he step in and see the Hound's hulking figure.

He draws his sword.

To say I am shocked is an understatement. I am terrified. He has not come to my chambers since the day after our wedding night, and now, here he was after Lord Varys confronted me. I struggle to swallow the lump in my throat, "my lord, I-"

"Don't you have one too many dogs now?" he growls.

Lucy is unable to hide the sound that leaves her mouth. My eyes begin to water as trepidation rips up my neck. I whisper, "Sandor."

Sandor flinches. He huffs, "what were you doing with it? You playing dolls with it, girl?"

"I saved her!" I explain with a shaky voice. "I fed her, gave her water-"

"It's leg is broken. You keep it in a crate. It's mercy for me to kill it."

Lucy gasps. My stomach drops and I run up to him, "no. Please. Please, tell me you didn't-"

I start when I see something move on the bed. I let out a shaky breath when a bark echoes in the room. I had never been more relieved to see Daisy than now.

Sandor growls, "OFF!" He marches to the bed and charges at the her. I shriek and grab his arm, holding him back. Of course, I nearly shoot forward for what was my strength against his? Still, he turns back to me and huffs. Daisy jumps down the bed and comes to my side.

Lucy grabs her and leads her to the corner of the room.

I continue to beg, "please, don't kill her. Please, I beg of you."

"You pay the guards to watch the mutt," Sandor yanks his arm away; the action hurts my hand. He seethes, "you're better off selling the bitch to a butcher as pig food."

I wail, "it was only this time! I have kept her with me since before." I drop to my knees, "please, I will ask nothing more of you," hot tears burn down all the way down to my chest. "I beg that you just let her live."

Sandor steps back and looks down at me. I can see how pathetic he thinks I am at this moment, and yet I find myself unable to care.

"You will ask me nothing more, aye?" he scoffs. His lips curl, "don't you want a child?"

My expression drops.

"You would rather save the bitch than have a babe?"

I am unable to speak. 

Why is he doing this to me?

"Well?!" he demands.

I screw my eyes shut when some of his spit sputters to my face. I turn to the floor, "she's been keeping me company in your absence. She's-"

"Ah, so that's why she feels so comfortable on the bed. You sleep with her."

I look up at him, about to explain that she sleeps on the floor and has never done that before. I do not have the chance.

"Well then keep your stray," he scoffs, "and have it fuck a babe into you."

The Hound storms off right after.

His insides feel like they were boiling.

He grips his hand and his hilt as he marches away.

He should have killed it, he shouldn't have hesitated. The only reason he did was because it didn't flinch at his sword. The mutt was so dumb it had no fear. It even propped on the crate and tried sniffing the steel. Brainless.

Now it was too late.

He knew the little girl would weep if he killed it, yet he didn't and there were tears anyway. He curses loudly. It reverberates in the hall.

He should have killed it.

"I see you make friends even with stray cats now, my lady."

I look over my shoulder after the cat I was petting runs off because of the voice. Lord Baelish comes up to me, sparing a quick glance to the orange feline that jumped down the wall. He turns back to me with a smile, "pardon me, Lady Clegane, I did not mean to frighten the kitty."

I shake my head, returning a soft smile. I wrap my arms around myself, still not entirely used to the light fabric and freeness of the dresses I've been wearing lately, "it's alright, my lord. The cats do not like people."

Baelish walks in front of me and smiles wider, "they must see you their goddess then."

I shake my head and give a soft chuckle.

I release a breath and look out to the view, "I had my handmaiden bathe her."

"Where is your hound?" he asks.

I stiffen.

He clarifies, "I mean the one with the broken leg."

"Mmm," Baelish looks out to the view with me, "thus why you sought the cats."

I do not turn to him, but I know he turns to me. He speaks, "one such as you should not be left alone or unaccompanied."

A breeze brushes past us.

"Why? Would you hurt me, Lord Baelish?"

He chuckles, "and risk getting mauled by the Hound? I would not."

I watch as a flock of birds fly overhead.

"Other things perhaps," he says.

I do not respond to him.

Baelish speaks my first name and it's enough to finally make me to turn to him. In truth, my name sounds foreign to me. Who I was has been long overshadowed by Lady Clegane... or, more accurately, the Hound himself.

A moment passes with nothing but looking and silence.

I feel his hot breath when he sighs deeply, "I remember clearly the day I first met you."

"You were a vibrant flower. Your fragrance wafted through the room the moment you stepped in," he says, taking one step closer. "Being around you was a privilege; conversing with you, a prize."

I blink at his words, taking in the lines of his face, "and now," I clasp my hands together, "I've withered away, have I?"

His Baelish-blue eyes appear to be solemn. My lips part when he takes my hands in his. He speaks under his breath, "you are more radiant than ever."

I do not move an inch.

"Take heart," he speaks my name again, "hounds are crushed under heels of goddesses."

I pull away from him and shake my head, "do not speak blasphemy with me."

He laughs, bringing his hands behind him, "ever devout and god-fearing." He raises an arm, "shall we part ways by the stables? I will be heading out of the keep."

We walk with no sense of urgency. I never knew Petyr to be one for small talk, and so I am surprised that he asks me about my dresses. In truth, I really shouldn't have been.

I debate for a moment. Ultimately, I offer polite smile and decide to agree.

"Your dresses are Dornish, are they not?" he raises a brow.

"Dornish-like," I clarify, "it was my usual tailor that made my new dresses. I feared if I asked a Dornish tailor for a modest silhouette, I'd be colder than I am now."

We share a soft laugh.

He shrugs, "the style suits you still," he smiles. "Undoubtedly, the Dornes would love to dress you in their more traditional clothing."

I purse my lips and raise my brows, "wouldn't you like that, Petyr?"

When we reach the stables, I stop in my tracks, not because we're about to depart, but because his words freeze me in my spot.

He chuckles, slightly in disbelief by the casual referral. He raises his hands, "I said the Dornes. I am not Dornish, my dear."

"Surely, our Lord Clegane finds it hard to keep his hands off you."

I do my best to stay neutral, to not give myself away. Baelish holds back a smirk.

"Wouldn't you like to know what me and Lord Clegane get up to?"

Baelish laughs, "if I'm being honest, I do."

I roll my eyes at him and nod dismissively, "farewell, my lord."

I promptly head to my chambers after this. As I walk on, however, I remember that another day has passed with me not seeing Lord Clegane. I am unsure if it was deliberate or coincidental, but it was the fact either way.

He nods back with a chuckles, "and you, my lady."

This lead to my decision to be more... seductive.

It had been a handful of days since my monthly bleeding passed. I was never a regular bleeder, and when it came this time around, it stayed longer than usual. I was glad with his absence then, in not needing to explain myself to my him. The moment it had finished, however, I expected I would at least see him once.

I did not.

And, well yes, or course, he yelled at me and told me to have my bitch fuck me instead-- truly, there was a large pit of dread in my stomach because of this, but people say a lot of things in anger, things they don't mean. He could not have meant that.

I rub my belly, willing the dread away.

I refuse to believe he meant that.

I suck in a breath and decide to head to the king's chambers.

My breath hitches when I catch sight of the Hound, guarding the door. I see him do a double take when he spots me, and yet he gazes into space in the end.

Besides, I've been assured over and under that men really like making babies.

"Good evening, my lord," I curtsy at him.

He grunts with exasperation, "what are you doing here?"

"I wanted," I measure my words carefully, "to request you not stay out late tonight."

The man turns his head fully to me, "what?"

I feel my throat itch. I clear my throat, "I was hoping that you come to my chambers before too late."

Sandor shifts in his spot. He eyes me up and down. I feel like I am being burned alive under his gaze.

He looks away and shifts back in place.

"Dog. Dog! Come inside, I-" King Joffrey calls but then ceases when he steps out of the room and sees me. 

I open my mouth but I don't get to speak at all.

I immediately curtsy, "my king. Good evening."

Joffrey raises a brow and demands to know why I'm here, referring to me by the house I was born into.

His face contorts in deep bewilderment. He opens his mouth and raises a finger, "why would you come h-" he turns to the Hound and stops himself. He breaks into a laugh. He laughs so hard that he clutches his stomach, "oh!" He wheezes, "oh, I've forgotten about that!"

I offer him a smile, "I wanted to speak to my lord husband, your grace."

King Joffrey calms down with a sigh. He from to his Kingsguard then to me, eyeing my attire. He chuckles under his breath as his eyes rake me down, "I see your wife has dressed to seduce you, dog." His looks up to my face, "or wouldn't that make you bitch?"

I do not respond for a moment, put on the spot by his malice, but then my wits finally meet me. I curtsy to the king, "I am what my king makes me to be."

Joffrey laughs airily. He shakes his head, "my, dog," he turns to his guard, "I've truly matched you well," he pats his shoulder plate, "too well, in fact."

He then retreats into his chambers, calling out as he did, "you're dismissed, dog. Breed your bitch as you like."

I release a breath once the king leaves, clutching my belly as I did so.

The door slams shut.

Sandor does not move an inch from his spot. He does not look at me.

I begin to get nervous all over again. I try, "husband?"

"You think I'll answer to your whistle just because you're dressed like a whore?"

My face hardens. I look away from him. I mean I expected as much.

I swallow the lump in my throat, "I only wanted to please you-"

He scoffs.

I look back at him, "I will dress more modestly if it is what you'd like."

"I'd like not to see you whoring around."

I am unable to withhold my scoff, "I am what my lord makes me out to be."

The Hound finally spares me a glance. I glare at him as I curtsy, "apologies for the impertinence." I turn on my heels and walk away. My anger and vexation gets the best of me. I cannot help but jeer, "if my dress angers you so, take it off me then."

Sandor shifts on his spot.

I continue down the hall.

His lips curl as he growls lowly, "run."

I do not hear anything but my own grumbling.

"Run, little girl!" he barks, making me jolt and turn back to him with a scowl. The irritation is apparent in my face as I stop at the end of the hall, "what?"

The Hound begins to march over. My heart races as I hear him warn, "run, if you know what's good for you"

I begin to shuffle back.

"I'll tear that shit off your body when I catch you."

I don't look back. I heave heavily as I rush down the halls. I don't hear him chasing after me, though once I'm far, I see him treading fast as the times he's dragged me by the arm. My stomach flurries with anxiousness and regret.

I break into a sprint at the sound of his threat.

When I reach my chambers, I mentally debate whether or not I should lock the door. I gulp at the idea of him breaking it down. I decide I do not want a memory such as that to be branded into my brain.

I gasp when he bursts into the room. I grip my skirts from the edge of the bed where where I sat.

The Hound locks the door before walking over to me. He grabs my shoulders and shoves me down on my belly.

I hear him grab something by my vanity. I do not dare to look at him. I proceed to hear him undo his armor and his clothes.

I squeak when he grabs my skirts and rips it all the way up my ribs. He scoffs, "fucking parchment."

I hear a pop. I yelp when he grabs my smallclothes and yanks them down. I groan into the cushions when I feel his fingers toy with my folds.

"Don' fink you nee' vis," he speaks like something was in his mouth. He pulls his hand away and suddenly the smell of my lavender oil assaults my senses. I hear a squelch. Something is thrown to my side; it's my vial.

I squeak when he grabs my hips. He sighs, "you're ready on your own." We both make noises when he begins to thrust into me. The Hound growls, "little girl likes to be chased."

I am shoved into the cushions. My entire body tenses.

His tempo is brutal and harsh. He does not relent or give me leeway. It's strange and shameful that my body even feels tingles of pleasure.

"You want to dress like a whore," he taunts, "I'll fuck you like a whore."

I cannot help the screams that rip out of my throat. Had I not been faced down on the cushion, I fear that I would have woken the dead.

I call out his name when he hoists my hips up. My toes could no longer touch the floor. He begins moving faster. My hands dig into the sheets. I feel my eyes water.

The Hound howls. He shoves me down and suddenly my feet are on the ground. He plunges deep, it makes my eyes roll back. His thrusts become increasingly irregular and after with a few more slaps, he stops.

I catch my breath, thanking the gods he's shown mercy.

Was... was it done?

I whine when I feel him pull away. I gulp and shift on my spot. I anticipate his next movements. I hear a rustle. I lift my head up and look back at him, confused by the sight of him tying himself up.

"Don't think to have that dress mended, girl," he pants as he grabs something from the floor. I roll on my back, feeling uneasy because of the wetness between my thighs. I watch him unlock the door and slam the door on his way out.

All hells were breaking loose. King's Landing was under attack, the castle was on fire, and Stannis Baratheon was winning.

All the women and children holed up in the queen's retreat chamber spilled out to gods know where.

My mind was racing, yet all I could think was: run, flee, Lucy, Daisy, Hound.

I was already running. I was already fleeing. I was doing both with Lucy in my grip. I had Lucy, but I did not have Daisy.

We were running up to my chambers. I left Daisy there, my poor Daisy. We were fleeing up the stairs in haste, sparing no time to catch a breath.

I quickly open the door and lock it once Lucy and I are inside.

I had no idea what we were to do. We could bar the door, block it with our bed. Lucy and I could manage it, I think. Was it a good idea? Would it guarantee our safety? There was only one way we'd know.

We take a moment to finally catch our breath. Lucy grabs my arms and I grab hers. I can feel her shaking. I rub her skin, "it will be alright. No harm will reach us here."

Lucy shakes her head, "milday, you and me both know that's not true."

My heart shatters when I catch the way her eyes water. "Shhh," I pull her into a hug, "have I ever failed you, Lucy?"

She seals her arms around me and whispers, "no."

"Nothing will happen to us," I rub her back, "I will protect you."

"And I, you," she pulls away, "as will Daisy," she wipes her tears before they fall, "and the 'ound."

We scream when we hear a voice in the room. We press our back against the wall and turn to the bed. A figure is sat on the floor by its side. What was said was, "your mutt is stupid."

Lucy and I clutch each other for dear life. I recognized that voice. I muster the courage to tiptoe towards the figure and breathe out shakily when I confirm the presence, "Sandor?"

The man turns to me as we walk up to him. Sandor had Daisy on his lap. She looked up and blinked at me before closing her eyes. She was being pet a bloody hand and did not mind at all.

"She was jumped on me when I walked in. She looked excited," he turns to Daisy, "stupid bitch. Anyone else would have chopped her up."

I find myself releasing a breath of relief. Here now was Daisy, and Hound. I had nothing left to think about.

I walk up to him, kneeling on his side. He turns to me. I examine his face, dirtied and bloodied, "are you hurt?"

He looks at me for a moment. I watch him slowly raise his hand. He cautiously touches my cheek. I clutch his wrist in my hands. He swipes his thumb on my skin, "save your tears." I didn't even know I shed them. "None of the fuckers got close enough to try."

He draws his hand back. He grunts as he gets to his feet. Daisy moves back, wobbling on her three legs; I move back too.

"Take your valuables," the Hound grunts, "we're fucking leaving."

I shake my head in confusion as Sandor grabs a satchel and stuffs my jewelry in it, "I don't understand. Aren't you going to fight?"

I pull my head back. I watch the man survey the room.

Lucy runs up to my side and she wipes my cheek with her skirt. She watches the red collect on the fabric and wonders who it belonged to. She wagers it's not from her lord.

"Fuck the fight," he quips as he shoves objects down and raids through the drawers and closets.

Lucy finishes wiping my face. I walk off and grab all my hidden pouches of gold. I hand it to Sandor, "what about the king?"

"Fuck the king," he takes the pouches and stuffs it into the bag, "fuck him especially."

Sandor then chucks the satchel to Lucy, who grunts when she catches it.

"The stupid fuck's done nothing but fuck around," he picks up Daisy, propping her front legs on his shoulder, "no good thing's ckme from that fuck." He takes me by the hand and mumbles, " 'cept for one."

The whole lot was in disarray; dead bodies, debris, and fire littered the scene. He hands me Daisy, and I struggle slightly to carry her, considering she was not a small breed. He walks not too far off and brings a wandering horse over.

He releases me only to unlock the door and hold me again. He does not let me go until we reach the outside of the keep.

It's a wonder we do not encounter anyone on this side of the castle, more so that we find a horse.

Sandor takes Daisy and puts her down before helping me mount the steed. My stomach rolls with how his touch lingered on my thigh once I was on.

Next, he took the satchel from Lucy and handed it to me. He then eyed her when she stepped forward, as if debating whether or not he wanted to bring her along. Before she or I could speak up about it, Sandor is already helping her climb up behind me. Lucy takes the satchel from me and eyes him after. He rolls his eyes.

He picked up Daisy and tried handing her to me. However, she struggled too much and could not fit in my arms, so he cursed and threw her back onto his shoulders. He grabbed the horse's reins and started walking.

"Fucking bitch, fucking wench, fucking horse, fucking war, fucking-"

[auxmodi]

sexual tension

drabble ;)

my masterlist

summary: around the campfire, the men start teasing sandor about his size, and as the crude jokes fly, you can't help but sneak a glance at him. when you catch the outline of him beneath his clothes, your heart races, and you can't look away. sandor notices, and the tension between you two is almost too much to handle. you're left wondering what will happen when the camp settles down for the night.

warnings: nsfw, sexual tension, sexual attraction , reader's smutty thoughts, alcohol, objectification, p in v sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, swearing , public sex kind of.

word count: 3.2k

the campfire crackled and spit, casting flickering shadows over the circle of men gathered around it. the air was thick with the smell of sweat and woodsmoke, the chatter growing louder as the ale flowed. you sat just outside the circle, not part of their bawdy camaraderie, but close enough to catch every word, and gods, how you wished you weren’t.

“clegane,” one of the younger men drawled, a drunken smirk plastered across his face. “bet you’re hiding something fierce under all that armor, eh?”

the others laughed, quick and eager to latch onto the joke. sandor, seated across the fire, didn’t so much as glance up.

“reckon it drags behind him in the snow,” another chimed in, slapping his knee.

more laughter, rough and raucous. your stomach twisted as you pulled your cloak tighter around you, hoping to disappear into the night.

sandor’s lip twisted into a mocking half-smile, his gaze sharp as it swept over the group. “keep talking about my cock,” he growled, the words a low, gravelly threat, “and I’ll make sure it’s the last thing you ever get to look at.”

that earned a chorus of hoots and hollers, none of them taking the threat seriously.

“you hear that?” the first one cackled, slapping his thigh. “big man’s got a temper to match!” he leaned forward, squinting at you. “what d’you think, girl? you’re always hovering around him, eh? got an eye for—”

you choked on your sip of water, quickly lowering the cup and staring at the ground as your cheeks burned hotter than the fire.

the thud of steel slicing into wood made you flinch. when you dared to look up, sandor’s knife was embedded in the log beside the man’s head, the blade gleaming menacingly in the firelight. the man froze mid-laugh, his face blanching as though all the blood had drained from it.

the men fell silent for half a beat before breaking into another round of laughter, though it was more nervous this time, the kind of laughter that comes when you’re not sure if someone’s joking.

“aye, no need for that,” the first one said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “just a bit of fun, clegane.”

sandor leaned back against the log, his long legs stretched out and his lips curling into something close to a smirk. He didn’t say another word, just shook his head as if they weren’t worth the effort.

you tried to focus on the cup in your hands, but the conversation around the camp was impossible to ignore.

the men roared, and you dared a glance toward sandor. he was still as a stone, sitting against a log, legs stretched out in front of him. His bowl of stew rested in one hand, the other dangling lazily by his side.

but it wasn’t just his size that drew your eye. It was the way he carried himself, like he was more than aware of the effect he had on everyone around him.

the long lines of his legs, the thick muscles visible even under layers of leather and wool. your gaze drifted lower before you could stop yourself, there, was the unmistakable outline of him, large and thick, pressing against the fabric of his trousers. your heart pounded in your ears as you realized just how much of a hold he had over you.

you tried to tear your eyes away, but the way he filled out his clothes, the way he made you feel. you wanted to touch him, to feel that strength, feel the weight of him, his size, pressing down on you. the image of him, thick and demanding, burned into your mind, refusing to leave.

when you glanced up, you found sandor watching you. his eyes were steady, sharp, like he knew exactly what had been going through your mind. there was no judgment in his gaze, only that intense, unblinking stare, like he was daring you to admit it. To admit just how much you wanted him, how much you needed him.

slowly, almost lazily, he tilted his head.

“enjoying the view?” his voice was a low rasp, just loud enough for you to hear over the chatter of the men.

your heart raced, and you looked down, fumbling with the crust of bread in your hands like it held the answers to your embarrassment.

he huffed a quiet laugh, deep and rough. “thought so.”

the sound of his laughter, knowing, made your pulse jump. you risked a glance up, only to find he was still watching you, his lips curling into something between amusement and triumph.

you tried to gather yourself, but your body felt light, almost dizzy from the weight of the moment. but then, as the world around you came back into focus, you realized you weren’t the only one who had noticed.

the men around the fire had been watching too. they’d seen, heard everything. you could feel their eyes flicking between you and sandor, their glances filled with anticipation, like they were waiting for something to happen.

one of them, who’d been watching intently, couldn’t help but chuckle. “well, looks like you’ve caught the big man’s attention, girl.”

you could feel every set of eyes on you now, watching, waiting for something, anything to happen. and you knew that whatever had just passed between you and sandor wasn’t going to be forgotten.

-

some time passed, and you were finally alone. you had been chosen to set up the camp, and for once, you weren't mad about it. the embarrassment still lingered, heavy on your body, but with this task, there was no one around to remind you of it.

the dirty thoughts still lingered in your mind, persistent and unsettling. it was the way he looked at you, like it didn’t bother him at all. there was something strange between the two of you, an unspoken connection that you couldn’t shake, no matter how hard you tried.

lost in the depths of your thoughts, the sudden crunch of boots on the ground behind you pulled you from your trance. you didn’t dare glance over your shoulder, but the shadow cast by the moonlight told you everything you needed to know. his presence loomed large, unmistakable. it was sandor.

he stood there for a moment. then, in his usual gruff manner, he spoke. “you’re alone out here.” his voice was steady, not a question, but a statement. the air between you felt thick, but his presence, though imposing, didn't seem to demand anything more.

you glanced at him, trying to hide the slight amusement creeping onto your face. his expression was unreadable, his eyes dark as always. he was standing too close, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his presence, but still, he didn’t move, didn’t push.

“well?” he asked after a long pause, his voice rough, yet tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. “you gonna stand there all night? ain't you got a camp to set up?” his voice reeked of alcohol.

you blinked, suddenly realizing you were still rooted to the spot, caught in the strange tension he’d created. his tone had been flat, but there was something in the way he looked at you, like he was waiting for you to say something.

“right,” you muttered, shaking your head as if to clear it. you turned away from him, reaching for the bedrolls and stakes you had set aside, trying to ignore the way your heartbeat had quickened. “I’ll get to it.”

you could feel his presence still lingering behind you as you bent down to fasten the stakes into the ground, the weight of his stare making the silence awkward and thick. every movement felt too deliberate, like he was watching your every action, even though he hadn’t said a word since his last remark.

suddenly, you felt a hand press against your lower back. startled, you flinched and glanced up at him. without warning, he yanked you to your feet by your pants, pulling you tightly against his chest, your back to him. "don't make me do all the work" he murmured low, his voice thick with intent. you held your breath, feeling the undeniable pressure of his body against yours. his hips subtly thrust forward, the hardness of his bulge pressing into your lower back.

your pulse quickened, a mixture of nerves and something else you couldn’t quite place. you shifted uncomfortably, trying to create some distance between you, but his grip was firm. "sandor," you whispered, unsure of what you wanted him to do. "this isn't right."

without answering, he lowered his mouth to your neck, his lips brushing the sensitive skin just below your ear. the warmth of his breath sent a shiver through you, and before you could react, his hand moved down your body. with a sudden, forceful motion, his fingers grasped the fabric of your shirt, pulling it taut before ripping it open. the sound of fabric tearing filled the air, and your breath caught in your throat.

you gasp, instinctively crossing your arms to shield your chest, but he seizes your wrists and firmly pulls them behind your back. sandor smirks, his voice low and rough as he says, “hiding won’t save you now.”

he pulls you back into him, your ass pressing against his bulge. sandor chuckled, a sound that reverberated through you. "is that what you want?" he growled low, his voice thick with desire. you could feel the tension in his body, the way he stiffened behind you as you pushed back into him. his groan followed, deep and unmistakable, as his hips involuntarily thrust forward.

"keep pushing, and you're only going to make it worse," he whispered against your ear, his voice a mix of amusement and promise.

but you couldn’t stop. you pressed back into him again, your body moving against his in a way that left no room for hesitation. his breathing hitched, and before you could react, sandor spun you around with brutal force. you fell to the ground, the air knocked from your lungs, and you gasped in surprise.

you now sat on the floor, hands pushing up your body to regain some balance. your breath was shallow, heart racing, and as you looked up, you saw sandor towering over you, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

he took his time, slowly unbuckling his belt as his gaze never left you. you couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and fear, the way his eyes held you in place, his every movement calculated.

he noticed the excitement in your eyes, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. a low chuckle escaped him, the sound rich with amusement. "you’re eager," he murmured, his gaze darkening as he took in your reaction.

you were frozen, not knowing what to say, your words lost in the heaviness of the moment. all you could do was sit there, heart pounding, waiting for him to move, unsure of what would come next.

without warning, he unzipped his pants and slowly takes out his cock. you stared in disbelief, you couldn't help but notice how much larger he was than you'd expected. his gaze remained locked on yours, and with a slow, almost indifferent smirk, he muttered, 'didn't think you'd be this quiet. thought you’d have more to say.'"

his words stung, challenging you, and without thinking, you pushed yourself to your feet. you met his eyes, you didn’t know if you were trying to prove something to him or to yourself, but you took a step closer, your breath steadying as you faced him head-on.

you stared at him, the silence heavy between you. neither of you needed to speak to know what you both wanted, but the words failed to form. uncertainty gripped you, but something inside urged you to move, to take the first step. without thinking further, you leaned in and kissed him.

your lips met his, the kiss harsh and impatient, filled with undeniable desire and lust. you felt his tongue push past your lips, exploring your mouth, his hand tightened his grip on your thigh, finger digging into your skin. "answer me", he said, his voice low, "you think you can take all of me, huh?" his other hand quickly yanked your pants down to your knees, the urgency in his movements making your pulse quicken.

you looked up at sandor, meeting his intense gaze, your voice barely above a whisper. "do your worst." the words were edged with hesitation, but there was something else there too, a quiet challenge. he smirked, clearly appreciating the boldness beneath your uncertainty, before he spun you around and shoved you face-first into the tree.

his grip on your wrists was rough, pulling them behind your back and holding them there with unrelenting force. his breath was hot against the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. as reality set in, so did a rush of nervousness, your breath quickened, your heartbeat pounding in your chest.

he chuckled, feeling the tension in your body. "you're not getting cold feet now are ya?" his voice gravelly, "it's too late to back out now."

you feel the cold breeze on your legs and chest, and you try to arch your back slightly, as if to invite him in. you feel his hard presence against you, waiting impatiently.

when all of a sudden you felt sandor's thick fingers attach themselves to your pussy. his other hand stil holding on tight to your wrists. "let me see" he mutters, his fingers brushing against your folds, stroking up and down.

you desperately tried to clamp your legs shut, the humiliation heavy in your chest, too much to bear. but his hand, strong as usual, forced them apart. the weight of it settled heavy on you, the sense of being exposed, vulnerable, naked in a way you never thought you'd be, especially with sandor, your usual companion in the mud and blood of battle, seeing you like this.

sandor, clearly tired of you already, grabbed you by the neck with a cold, firm hand, his grip locking you in place. you were shoved hard against the tree, your body pinned to the bark. there was no hesitation in him now, he didn’t want to wait any longer.

"quit fightin’," he growled. "you’ll give in, like it or not."

you were so overwhelmed by his actions that your mind went blank, unable to focus or think clearly. he noticed, of course he did. "please, sandor," you murmured, desperately trying to create some friction by swaying your hips, but he held you down firmly, laughing at your attempt.

sandor is so smug about it too, groaning just quietly enough while his hands grab your ass, pulling you further apart so he can finally enter you. "been waiting for this," he murmured, his voice low and filled with satisfaction.

you turn your head towards him, glancing over your shoulder just to see how big he looked as he loomed over you, pulling you closer while gripping the base of his cock as he slips his tip into you. the sharp, overwhelming pain makes your body ache. you cried out in desperation, you close your eyes and try to relax every muscle in your body as he slowly fills you up, little by little.

sandor furrowed his brows as he holds still for just a moment, his rough hands were all over you. "fucking hell, don’t tell me you’re a virgin" he growls through his teeth.

"not that,” you finally managed to whisper, releasing the breath you were holding. “i just- it’s been a while.”

"you're so fucking tight". he grunted, finally feeling your cunt stop clenching, he immediately pulled back and thrust into you forcefully, causing you to cry out, your arm instinctively reaching back to hold his hips back from the overwhelming sensation. he ignores your protests and starts thrusting into you quickly, your body responding to his every move. you whimper with each thrust, moving in rhythm with him, your hand still holding his hip in protest as he drives into you relentlessly.

he grabs the arm that's gripping his hip and pushes it behind your back, gaining a better angle as he thrusts into you. "c'mere," he growled, his grip tightening on your arm. "let me feel you, all of you".

the eye contact, his words, it’s almost enough to make you tap out. sandor’s eyes never leave yours as he pushes into you roughly.

as the rustling of footsteps grows closer, you freeze, heart racing. sandor's grip tightens on you, his eyes scanning the surrounding woods. the sound of your men moving through the trees grows louder, and you can feel the tension in the air.

"stay quiet," sandor murmurs, his voice low and commanding, as he pulls you closer, putting his hand over your mouth. almost covering your whole face with just one hand. neither of you can be fucked to care, the pleasure building low in your stomach as he keeps on pounding into you.

the men approach, oblivious to your presence, and you hold your breath, hoping they don't notice anything out of the ordinary.

you can hear their voices now, but they pass by without a second glance, the danger passing as quickly as it arrived. sandor lets out a low grunt, picking up his speed, fueled by frustration. his hands find your hair, pulling it harshly, causing you to yelp.

you choked on your moans, your aching pussy taking him whole, sandor leans in close as he pushes you back and forth on his cock. loving how you whine everytime he slides inside of your pussy.

he can't hold back anymore, his control snaps, and all that’s left is brute force and raw lust. he grips your hips tightly, his hands holding your ass as you let him take control. his touch grows bolder, sliding up your sides, skimming your stomach, and grazing your chest until they rest just above your throat. he pulls your towards him, looking for you eyes.

you look at him and find him staring at you, his lips parted, his eyes moving from your face to your ass, watching as he splits you open, again and again.

"oh gods" he mumbles under his breath, still staring at where you bodies keep on meeting together with his brute force. his breath quickens, short, guttural growls of pleasure escaping his mouth, you nod, sandor immediately knowing what you mean, his fingers dig into your hips even harder, his breathing becoming faster and more labored, as he picks up the pace. the sound of slapping flesh becoming even louder in the forest.

before you know it, you're cunt is filled up with his seed, you cum and his name keeps on falling of your lips. "that's it girl." he thrusts his seed deeper. it's quick, the way he eases himself out of you, how you feel it flowing down your inner thighs.

you try to stand secure on your wobbly legs and it was you who finally said something. "y- yeah, you've made your point."

sandor just watches you with a grin on his face, cocky bastard.

[cvnt4him]

Stop stop stop end it all now pack it up bc pro hero deku fucking his fans???? Oh y'all I think he's weak as fuck. He'd literally js fuck his fans bc he needs a break like he's so tired of hero work n shows up to these meet n greets n hero-cone n shit n he js sees someone [you, he sees you n chooses you bc you're sexy, dont let anyone tell you otherwise.] and pulls them off to the side and goes to the hotel part of the building and erm..fucks their brains out. Like he has self respect but sometimes fucking his fans in cheap motels is just what he needs I promise like he would be so rough with you oh my god. Pounding you into the mattress telling you to shut the fuck up and take it like he knows you want to. BUT HES JS SO DAMN BIG YALL. HES LIT CRUSHING YOU WHILE HE DRILLS HIS THICK COCK INSIDE OF YER GUTS...... n ugh... don't kink shame me now but....imagine him fucking you and stepping on your head w his boot and uttering such filthy insults about how you're just a greedy cock whore who doesn't deserve to be in his presence let alone breath the same air as him?!

[cyberdollface]

╔══ ❀•° Daisy Chains °•❀ ══╗

Summary: You seduce your dad's best friend, the hound of the underground.

fem!reader x Vander.

Warnings: smut with a little tiny bit of plot; size kink; sexual frustration; sexual tension; masturbation; fantasizing; teasing; slightly bratty reader that torments Vander.

word count: 4.457.

Sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

Your dad asked you to take the order for the newest deal inside the store, as it was too heavy for Ekko, his new adopted kid, to gather from the spot you were on to the middle of the alleys 3 feet below.

Your dad’s best friend was there too. The big, mighty Vander was busy saving a small salesman from a beating and making the dealer pay the money. It was cute how caring he could be to the nation of Zaun—his people. It made you want him more. 

You were a teenager, barely 16 years old, when everyone followed him, marching to the other side of the bridge, and taking the first seat when it all came down. Now, you were standing in the same place as they did, but 10 years later.

You admired the old man, the best guy around Benzo. You even missed him while doing business away from home in the Noxus Empire, but you couldn't deny it. He looked even better now with his softer belly and pepper and salt hair.

You felt his gaze before you could see it. He had been looking at you since you got back to town. You pretended that you didn't see his longing eyes on you every time you went to the Last Drop with your friends in your short, pretty dresses, or whenever you hung out with Vi and the kids, teaching them to climb their way up to Piltover.

He always got himself together, though. One who wasn't chasing his behaviors wouldn't have noticed, but you did. You loved his attention; how couldn't you? Being desired wasn't new to you, but it being him made it different. All that authority and aura made you feel a little bit cogent. You couldn't help it; it was going to your head.

His eyes following you when you walked away for the day or even fixed your voluminous hair couldn't go unnoticed for you. Even around your poor, unaware father…  Benzo could not even suspect it. His own friend gawking at his older daughter, full family gatherings passing around more rapidly with your new game of catching his attention.

Vander approached you, cutting off your thoughts:

“Where are you going with all that heavy stuff?” 

It wasn't late, the sky had just got dark.

“I'm going to drop this off at the shop” You smiled at him. “I wouldn't mind some help, you know.”

He raised his eyebrows, contorting his face into a slight grin.

“Can’t deny helping a lady, right?” His posture straightened when he heard your giggles as if he was more sure of himself now.

You kept walking steady, even though one step of his equaled two of your own, he was ensuring that you were walking at the same pace. You guys even managed to make small talk now and then, cutting through the crowd.

“You’re going to the market tomorrow? Heard there's gonna be some good stuff there.” 

He said to you while minding his steps.

“Of course, I'm going, Van. Wanna buy some more skirts and dresses, you know? Quite like this one I'm wearing” You smiled again.

“It looks cute on me, doesn't it?” You posed for him the best way you could with the small box in your arms. Of course, he grabbed the bigger one to carry.

His eyes went momentarily darker as he stared at you. It lasted only for a few seconds before Vander averted his eyes. A trash can now looked really interesting at that moment.

“Yeah, it looks… good on you.”

You were having too much fun.

As you two neared the back of the shop, you thanked him, soon enough you would be putting the boxes away in the stock and closing its locks. 

“You know what else I want to buy at the store?” He leaned in closer to you to hear you better. 

“A new nail polish. It's green, kinda yellowish” You hold your hand in front of you, passing one finger atop a nail as to illustrate the act of painting them.

“Hmm, quite close to this color” you approached him, lightly touching the buttons of his shirt.

He stopped breathing, swallowing thickly while looking at your hand on him. He cleared his throat.

“I better get going, you know… open up the bar.” You couldn't help but laugh a little, looking up at him through your browns.

You had his full attention, Vander was radiating heat, and you could almost taste his want for you, for something.

“You wanna fuck me, right?”  You ask him while playing with the buttons on his shirt. You couldn't help but notice how big he was, standing at least 40 centimeters taller, his frame twice your size even though you weren't exactly a small girl.

His left hand goes to your waist, playing with the bow tied to your red dress. You lift your eyes to hold his gaze, raising an eyebrow.

"You know I would do anything, for it – for you. But we can't, you know it right? We shouldn't – I shouldn't"

It was working—hell, yeah, it was working. It made you feel powerful, how much of a reaction you could get from a man like Vander, especially when you knew he wasn't so easily charmed.

"Well, that's a real bummer, huh? I need someone like you...—" You made a show of tightening your arms together, showing more of your cleavage to his hungry eyes. "... Ya know, I've been thinking 'bout it, daydreaming, but it's never enough. Can't ever fill me deep enough with my fingers, it doesn't matter how hard I imagine it's your hand instead of my own." 

You pout at him, grabbing his fingers from his right hand just feeling how wide and long they are, not stopping your mind from wondering how they would feel inside. Could you even accommodate more than one? Hell, you would die to know. You let out a hot breath and realized that the hand you were holding was trembling. Did you just make the hound of the underground shake?

You grab him, making him press you more against the wall, one of his legs between your tights. The slit in your long dress gets higher and higher the more you flex your thigh.

Vander let his head lay low on the wall, his nose right in the curls of your hair. It smells good, he thinks, it's always good. He took a deep breath, no more fighting the hard-on he was growing.

"Think about you too, princess... Too fucking often" He pinches your waist then drags his hand lower and lower, reaching the skin of your thigh revealed by the slip in your dress.

You reach between your bodies and put your hand on top of his to ground him, making him grab the fat of your thigh harder. It made you gasp a little, eyes closed but you didn't need then to know he lifted his head to peek at your reaction. Fuck your face was pretty... Dark skin shone with the low lamplight of the street you were in.

The frenzy you two were in reached its end as you heard a loud crack on the streets, followed by voices.

It was like his mind returned to earth, his hands were more sure of themselves, Vander cleared his throat, getting off your hold and adjusting your dress.

As he distanced himself, you couldn't help but finally look at the obvious bulge in his pants. It was promising and Vander could feel the wet spot he made in his trousers with his precum.

You knew that he was close to breaking. You would eventually get what you wanted; you always did.

You watched as he fixed himself, trying to hide the taint but failing, his cheeks pink.

He tried looking at you over the wall, the disappointing expression on your features, damn you were pouting again. The sight made him throb in his pants so he looked away.

"I should go, fuck, should've never come with you in the first place–" he passed a hand through his hair, which was falling in his face and sighted "– Good night, I guess."

You will eventually get what you want, you told yourself. You always did. 

Vander avoided you for some days, never letting his eyes lay on you for too long, making conversation short. He could see that he was getting on your dark side by denying you attention.

He couldn't help it, he already had a good imagination by just flirting, your little escapade with him only served to feed into his fantasy.

In the late nights, he found himself palming his trousers, mind drifting to you. Vander wished he would have kissed you that night, smudging that pretty shiny lip gloss off your lips. He grunted slowly, he hated that he had to do that again, beating one off to his friend’s daughter. Fuck he was disgusting, but the kids were sleeping, he had time for this at the very least. Vander never thought he was being so obvious, but honestly, how could he help it? When you went to his bar on Friday nights you always wore the thinnest mini skirts ever, fuck that black one was his favorite, hanging low on your hips, your soft tummy lightly poking out… The memory made him throb. 

Suddenly his pants were too tight, he needed some relief, needed you. Sitting upright in his bed, he pulled his sweatpants down below his balls, just enough to free his cock. He let his imagination hang free, thinking about how easy it would've been to just bend you on one of the tables, making you feel him, how you made him feel. 

He spat on his hand, leading it to his dick, smearing it up and down. You would have offered your body to him, he knew that now. Fuck, what type of panties would you wear? One time he got a peek, white and frilly with some lace, really cute. Vander loved your thighs, he knew it would feel amazing between his hands, around his cock. His hands were working faster on his length, he was panting a little, biting his cheek to remind himself not to make too much noise, that the last thing he needed was some of his kids waking up.

You always smelled so good too, sweet, it was sweet. In his fantasy you giggled at him that way he found endearing, looking back at him and arching your soft body so the skirt would flip over your butt.

He was getting close, fuck his balls were aching so much, he needed that release.

You nodded at him, as to say ‘Go ahead, Van’ wiggling your bottom to encourage him, he didn't need to be rushed twice, he touched your ass, countering the fabric of the frills, when he got to the bottom he found the spot wet, it was so easy to imagine himself pulling the cloth aside and filling you up. You looked tiny under him. God, he tried his fingers around his fat tip in the upstroke to mimic the tightness of your hole, letting out a grunt. It was all he needed to cum in his hands, cursing your name under his breath. Fuck, he was disgusting. 

God, he prayed Benzo would forgive him. Vander can never let this fantasy of his come to life if he gets all worked up with just a few stolen glances and some dirty talk… Imagine what actually fucking you would do to him? 

“We are closed.”

You said when you heard the door from Benzo’s open thinking it was just a regular customer. To your surprise, it was Vander, and by his stunned face, you could see that he wasn't expecting to see you behind the counter.

He stood there awkwardly, sucking his teeth and gazing at his feet with a pack of papers in his hands.

“I thought Benzo was working today, I’ll… I’ll come back another time.”

You rolled your eyes at him and said: 

“My dad will come back at night. You should look for him around 8 pm, Van.”

You said while returning to paint your nails on the counter. He recognized the color, it was that green nail polish you had talked about that night.  You had indeed bought new dresses in the market, he had memorized your everyday clothes by now. That dress you were wearing right now was pretty, the pinkish color looked good on you.

He was already turning his back to leave when you dared to speak again:

“You have nothing to say, Vander?”

He sighed. You have always been stubborn since you were a teenager. He turned around irritated, his brows furrowed ready to scold you.

“I’m sorry about that, okay? Shouldn't have never gone that far.” His eyes were sharp as he was exasperated for just having to talk about that.

It made you even angrier. That day you played with yourself all night because that stupid man didn't want— no he didn't dare to finish the job. He left you hot and wanting in that damn alleyway.

“Now you say you didn't mean it? Hells Vander, now I am offended!”

You finished painting your nails and got off the bench, pouting as you made your way to the center of the store.

“We both know damn well what you did when you got home that night… You've been rubbing one off thinking about me for quite some time now.”  Now you were standing in front of him, trying to look mean, pointing at his chest with your manicured nails.

“Too bad you're too much of a pussy to do something with the real thing.” 

You waited for his reaction with a smug look on your features. Did you want attention? You would get attention.

He took a sharp breath and looked down at you. Vander was getting tired of this game of cat and mouse, if there was a proper time to solve the issue, it was now.

He sighed loudly before saying:

“Stop this shit, you know damn well we can't do this.” His voice was low, holding a bite to the words.

 It was a warning, he freed his hands from the paper and held your arm down. It made you smile, he was so much stronger than you, and you wondered what he could use that strength for.

He saw the grin on your lips and he tightened his grasp on you, face twitching into something dangerous. You pressed against him, closing the distance even more, not running from him.

You flexed your fingers in the air, your hand in an odd position with the way he was gripping you. It was like the world disappeared around you two, you wanted to kiss him, make him lose it, so you got on your tiptoes, your face closer to Vanders now, being able to feel his breath on your face.

“Not asking you to marry me, ya know? Just asking to be fucked…” You sneaked your other hand up to his side, grabbing the fabric of his shirt near his hips tight with your fingers. Oh, you hoped you didn't ruin your nails with all this playing.

He leaned down on impulse, only realizing his movement when you two kissed. Vander pressed you more against him, if it was even possible to get closer, now one hand was still gripping your arm as the other went to your waist. The hound tasted addicting, like mint and cigars. You moaned slightly in his mouth.

“Thought you could do this for me… Been wanting this for so long ” You said, making a trail of kisses from the corner of his mouth down his bearded jaw as his right hand kneaded your skin, feeling up your body.

“Know you want it too, old man. So why not just do it?”

You said with your lips grazing his. Vander couldn't escape your affection, you had him wrapped around your daisy chains. 

He brought you forcefully around the counter, getting you easily on top of it. 

He kissed you with purpose, as to compensate for how long he took to do it, even though he was still apprehensive to touch you.

You let your hands wander from around his neck to his big shoulders, down his muscled arms, finally reaching his hands and leading them around your bum.

Vander groaned, breaking your kiss away, and gathered your skirt past your hips, revealing your lower body. He broke the kiss away to take in the sight, his body between your legs with you on the counter. 

He could see your soaked panties from this angle. Damn, he was losing it. He gazed at your covered pussy intently, tracing his fingers to the outline carefully making you gasp.

He had grown a chub in his pants and it throbbed badly. He wanted to see it bare — needed to. You noticed him staring, dropping the weight of your body on your elbows behind you and chuckling at his reaction.

“You can take it off, Van.”

He eyed you, hating the expression on your pretty face, so full of yourself for what you accomplished. He wasn't himself now, he wanted to see it, your cunt felt chubby against his fingers, your wetness sticking to his skin.

He tried to still his hands while taking your underwear off, but failed. He noticed that you had seen it and yanked your bottom forward into him, kissing you to cancel his annoyance. You pushed him closer to you, making him bench a little as you left his tongue to dominate yours. 

Vander was so affected by the act that he started to grind his bulge against your folds, hands groping all your body with his big calloused hands.

You got out the kiss, letting lose a little moan against his ears, which turned him on even more, hells, you had him cursing under his breath. 

“Fuck me, please!” You whimpered under your breath. Vander opened his eyes he didn't notice were closed to look at you, your pouting face and doe eyes. It was wrong. The whole situation was fucking  wrong, he can’t fuck you in the damn shop, in your dad’s counter, what the hell was he doing.

“You don't need to put it in, Van!” 

You wiggled your hips to try to get more friction from the rough material of his jeans that confined his borderline painful erection. Your bare pussy leaving dots of slickness on the fabric, he realized he said that out loud when you answered.

“Just rubbing is fine!” You whined closing your eyes when it grazed your clit just good. 

“Take it off, please? Please!” You begged.

He grabbed your hips firmly, Vander couldn't help but gaze at your pussy again. "Stop the fuss, princess– fuck" He panted into the air.

You opened your legs wider, "Van, if you just use it to jerk off it's fine, right?" You used your hand to open the inner lips wider to his hungry eyes.

"I-if you just don't put it inside it's going to be fine, just rub your cock right here" 

You gathered slick in your fingers and ran them up and down your folds, which made you hiss, grabbing your bottom lip with your teeth.

You were giving him a headache, but when he returned to himself he was already taking his hard cock out of his trousers with trembling hands. You pushed him closer with your legs and put your hands on his member for the first time, your fist not quite closing from the thickness. It was feverish hot and so heavy it wouldn't even stand, instead, hang low right next to your center.

You stroked him to the top lightly, pushing it into your pussy, so he could feel your entrance. Vander let out a trembling sigh when you started to guide his cock up and down your folds, coating him in your essence.

His eyes closed when you started to moan for him, he was bumping your clit continuously with that big head of his cock. It was a shade darker than his skin and so fucking big... You know you were the one to propose to him to just use your cunt to jerk off, but you wanted to feel it inside, stretching you.

"Fuck, fuck, you're so..." he opened his eyes to see you shyly smiling at him.

"Is it good for you too, Van?" You meowed when you felt him take hold of his member, lightly shoving your hand off. He applied more pressure on it, so it was rubbing harder against you. You were so fucking wet and hot against him, he could barely speak, instead, he let his mouth open panting slightly.

His other hand found itself holding your right thigh open from behind your knee, sure it would leave bruises.

"Wanna feel it inside, please?" You moaned, your hands reaching the neckline of your clothes, pulling them down to reveal your chest to him. You knew what you were doing to him, turning his brain to mush.

"Can't do it, you know I can't" he grunted closing his eyes not to look at you in fear, he knew once he saw your pouting face he would listen to your every word. 

You got that quickly, lifting one hand to his face, pulling him atop of you so you could give him a smooch on his lips and moan into his mouth as his tip grazed just right against your folds. His hands are now caging you, arms successfully holding his weight so as not to crush you.

"Open your eyes, want to see you" He tried to say no, but you caressed his face in such a loving way... He'll be damned, you will be his downfall for sure.

When he stood comfortable still kind of hovering over you, he opened his eyes, and what a sight was you, sparred all over Benzo’s counter, opened wide for him with your tits spilling from your dress, one of your hands guiding his dick down your slit to your entrance. Fuck, Vander could feel you spasm around nothing trying to pull him inside.

"Just the tip, Van." 

You sighed, giving him your best puppy eyes as your right hand on his face caressed his jaw, your thumb firing his mouth agape, gathering his spit and bringing your fingers to one of your nipples, pinching lightly.

"Wanna feel the stretch…” You moaned for him. “Don’t you wanna feel me too?”

His hips jerked upwards, his eyes wide as his gorgeous tip stretched your opening. Your toes curled and Vander tensed on top of you, holding himself back from pushing all his length inside.

"Fucking hell, you're so, f-fuck" his eyebrows were scrunched. You couldn't help but smile drunkenly, haha, the big scary Vander was at a loss of words over you, because of you.

The thought made you clench, his hands flying to your hips as to make you still. All Vander wanted was to empale you on his dick, make that sly smile on your face disappear and give space to a scream.

You put your hands between your bodies again, he was more relaxed and that was the perfect time for you to guide his head slowly in and out of your cunt, tightening your fist around him a little.

He was all grunts as he manhandled you alone, taking your hands off him and putting it to his heart, that you realized later that was racing. Vander's eyes were moving intently between your cute face and your cunt glistened in slick.

You brought your other hand to your mouth gathering spit and dragging it over your soft belly into your hooded clit.

Vander was losing rhythm, "Gonna cum, ahh" 

He was panting like a dog, trying to pull himself out of your grasp, but you used your legs to cage him.

"Please, let me out, princess, can't do it like that." 

He was falling apart, too pussydrunk to do anything about it. His tip still going in and out of you in shallow thrusts.

You said: "No, no! You gotta do it in me, inside! Wanna feel your cum filling me up.”

You were stubborn, grinning between meows and moans, it made him irritated, you were always the brat, fuck now he was angry.

He shoved his whole cock inside you and gave you what you wanted, cumming deep inside with a grunt as your nails dragged across his arms.

You whimpered while he took his time being milked by you, as he worked your clit at a fast pace.

You finally came on his cock doing a final clench that made him shudder.

He got down to earth eventually, removing himself from inside you, and admiring the mess he made of you. You giggled shyly, waking him up from his stupor. Suddenly his brows furrowed, he remembered he was mad now, at himself for being fooled, at you for charming him.

He stopped his seed from spilling on the counter, which was already a mess with your slick, pushing his thumb slowly inside.

"Happy now?! You got what you wanted, just know it won't happen again."

He was putting himself back in his pants with a scow on his face.

"Let's see how you manage, old man.”

Your legs were trembling when you tried to stand to gather your underwear. He had to support you with one hand, then helped you fix your dress.

He got away from you, trying to find the bottle of water Benzo got at the shop, filling a cup and giving it to you.

He gathered his documents long forgotten on a side table, getting ready to leave.

"Oh Van, no goodnight kiss?" You approached him slowly, damn he could see his cum running down your plush thighs.

"Maybe if you play it nice I’ll let you fuck me again, this time properly."

He passed one hand through his hair while closing his eyes.

"That ain't gonna happen, I already told you"

Was he scolding you right now?

"Then I gotta have to look for another man to do the job."

He gave you a look, his eyes dark. Tormenting him was always so much fun! He turned his back to you.

"I should probably go, before... Before someone sees me"

Vander felt so upset, but when he closed his eyes he saw you, your body under him, the thought making him bulge again.

He knew damn well it was going to be another time, honestly, he could not wait for it.

Wrote this with my pussy btw. It was clapping in morse code, all I had to do was type it down.

Happy Christmas, guys!

The cute divider is from: @strangergraphics-archive

[proseandpretrichor]

Fateful Love; Sandor Clegane x Reader

Summary: Sandor had convinced himself is affections were only one sided, but as fate continued to entertwine the two of you maybe he would be proved wrong

Warnings: Smut! P in V, Oral female recieving. 18+

Never did you think you would be here right now. But when Caitlyn Stark took the time away from Bran’s bedside to beg you to go with Ned Stark, to help him look after her only daughters, to protect them. How were you supposed to refuse that? 

So here you were sitting on a horse, in the cold and sleet trailing behind the sniveling prince, Joffrey, who rode behind Lord Stark and the King. 

That is when you noticed him, Sandor Clegane, or the Hound as you quickly realized he was more frequently called. He was riding behind you, but close. Yet you did not hear a peep from the man, which struck you in awe since it was no secret the sheer size of him. Three days you had ridden in the same position along the procession and you wracked my brain for a single moment in which you heard his voice and couldn’t recall one time. This struck a cord of embarrassment through you causing you to shift in your seat towards him Seeing you in his peripheral he turned his gaze upon you and raised one of his thick eyebrows in question. You simply graced him with a small smile and dipped your head quickly as a sign of recognition of his presence. 

This was the first time you rendered the gigantic man speechless, but it was not the last.

Over the coming days, the King’s company grew to be comfortable around the Stark’s, and thus many of the King’s court grew fond of you. Quickly it became apparent to all who stayed in your presence even for a few moments, why you were so beloved by the Stark family. 

You had the innate ability to meet any and every individual where they stood. Ned Stark could be found walking with you, discussing the various policies that had now become his responsibility as the newly appointed hand. He would frequently ask for your thoughts on such matters, or how to inflict new motions without ruffling a large amount of feathers-it was no secret how poorly the King and his advisors dealt with such diplomacy. You would always give fair and wise counsel, which never seemed to surprise the Stark lord, but awed those who overheard including Sandor. You were always respectful and cautious with your words so that if you showed disagreement even the most arrogant, stubborn men saw your reason. 

Therefore, you often sat with the King and the Lord during meals. Mostly because the King found you beautiful, a refreshing face. That could also be apparent to all. Sandor secretly agreed, he appreciated the notion that you never refused food or drink when it was offered to you, thus you had many curves, and while he couldn’t see all of your skin, Sandor had no doubt it would be soft and pillowy to the touch. He shamefully thought of that simple fact too often when the cold, mushy, and wet ground kept him awake in the night. 

Eager to please his father, what once began as an obligation to entertain your presence, bloomed into genuine delight in your presence when Joffrey saw you. Which also in turn delighted Sandor, who thus could freely gaze upon you more throughout those days traveling. When Joffrey came to collect Sansa, you often would find yourself chaperoning the pair with Sandor. 

You would walk at least ten paces behind the two young teens, paying mind to giving their conversations the privacy you thought they deserved. 

One day, during such an outing, Joffrey stopped and turned to you. “Lady Sansa and I were in discussion about our dream lives. I have heard the Lady’s and shared mine, but I wished to know your’s, Lady Y/N.” 

“I will oblige in your discussion, my prince. Thank you for the thought of including me.” With that you turned and paused brows creased in deep thought. “I think I would like to live nowhere, as in completely isolated from anyone… maybe in the forest next to a meadow, or in a field next to some stream, lake, or river.” You then nodded very pleased with your decision. “Yes, my prince, that is what I desire.” 

“But Y/N...” Sansa exclaimed. “What of a husband or a family? Surely you have entertained such a thing!” 

“Yes, I will say I have.” Sansa rushed towards you, Joffrey close behind. She clasped onto your hand and drugged you to sit on a fallen tree with Joffrey placing himself on the other side of you. Sandor decided to lean against a nearby tree a little ways away, head turned to show his disinterest, but ear pointed to your figure. All waited in bated breath for your next words. 

“I suppose if I was so lucky,” you began a far away look beginning to gloss over your gaze, “I would like a big and strong husband, seeing as I am not a dainty woman myself.” You paused to pat your stomach earning laughs from the children. “However I would want to fatten him up a little, not enough to weaken his strength, but to just soften him up a little. That would be a nice cuddle, don’t you think” Nudging Sansa, who began blushing profusely. You continued, “And since we shall live in such a place he would need to find a way to work the land, so we may grow the food we eat, and to chop down wood for our modest cottage and firewood for the winter. Maybe we would come to collect a few animals, such as a goat, sheep, pig, chickens, maybe a dog so that we may rarely go into town except for the necessities. Then I would drag him to get such things as books, rarer groceries, and garments I cannot make.” 

“What of children?” Joffrey urged on. “Do you want children, Lady Y/N?” 

“Yes, sweet prince, I am fond of the idea. And of course if and however many my husband should wish for I will do my best to make it a reality. I have always been fond of children..” Pinching Sansa’s rosy cheek you brought her close enough to kiss her temple, who in return threw her arms around you. “Sometimes, I ponder what little versions of me and my husband I might nurture one day.” 

“I hope that will happen, Y/N!” Sansa all but shrieked, “I want to see and hold your little babes!” 

You paid little mind to the girl’s excitement, patting her on the head fondling urging everyone to continue on their walk. 

But Sandor couldn’t shake the picture you painted from his thoughts. He fit the description of a man you would like. He knew it was very unlikely to happen but that little nugget of hope spurred his affections to continue growing in size. And as he layed in bed that night, he fell asleep to the thought of coming home to you, children and dogs racing towards him and you beaming up at him and welcoming him back into your arms. 

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃     ❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃ 

Life at the castle in King’s Landing was without a doubt more stressful than that on the road. It became very apparent of the disdain for the Stark lord, thus you made it your sole duty to keep a close watch on the little ladies. 

You would secretly taste a bite of their meals before they were served to the family. You would accompany Arya to her sword fighting lessons, and nurse any bruises or cuts she sustained. You would continue to trail behind any interaction between Joffrey, who became more insufferable by the minute, and Sansa. Often you would rarely be found in your chambers at night instead you would be in a chair bedside one of the girls. Body bend and arms propping up your head before you would find yourself asleep in the morning. 

Such was one of those mornings. You carefulling clasped sleeping Arya’s door shut and traveling down the halls towards your rooms to get yourself ready for the day. You really did need to find a better sleeping position, the creak in your neck becoming a problem for your stiff neck to be able to move till later in the morning. This ailment distracted you from the bodies moving towards you in the corridor. 

“Watch where you're going!” Joffrey’s shrieky voice snapped you out of deep thought. 

Looking up to see he had side stepped your trudging path. Causing you to very narrowly crash into Sandor before stopping in front of him.

“Damn! I am so sorry, your highness!” You quickly turned towards the prince offering him an especially low bow for your mistake. Seemingly pleased with your groveling, Joffrey snapped back his walk with a typical roll of his bulging eyes. 

“I am truly sorry Ser Clegane, forgive me,” you murmured to the man in front of you.

“Not a knight.” He gruffly supplied, eyes staring down at your shorter frame. 

“I am well aware of that. However, I respect you very much. Therefore, I shall continue to address you with such respect.” With that you maneuvered around him and carried on towards your chambers. Just before you turned the corner, you called over your shoulder, “I wish you a wonderful day, Ser Clegane!” before you disappeared from his vision completely. 

Thus you rendered Sandor speechless once again. He had never been treated in such a high manor being reduced down to nothing but a brute and an animal. He was at a war with himself. Part of him knew he should follow the prince and continue his task of protecting him, but the other part of him urged him to turn around and march after you. To scoop you up into his arms and pin you against the stone wall, demanding to know what your words meant. To implore you to share if you had affections for him as he did for you. And if you miraculously did, he would kiss you senseless and hold you for all of the time he had left on earth. He would unclasp his armor instantly, place you on a horse, and lead you away from the castle to build you to the life you dreamed to have. 

Yet he didn’t, Sandor instead glanced back once more in the direction you left and followed after the prince. 

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃     ❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃ 

You were in a state of shock. The king died and Joffrey was immediately crowned king. Your beloved friend and lord was beheaded in front of not only your eyes but his daughters eyes. And thus since then King’s Landing has been rendered to a state of utter and complete chaos. 

Yet here and now you were faced with a monstrous choice. Sansa had chosen to stay both for the hope of a better life in the favor of the King, despite her name, and for the Stark name itself. 

But Arya now stood before you claiming she would no longer stay at King’s Landing and that she and Sandor were leaving and she needed you to come with her. That this was her turn to repay you for your lifetime of service. 

You felt as though your body, heart, soul and mind were being split, each sister taking your livelihood. You did not want to abandon Sansa in this wretched place with him. She still had much to learn and followed young and naive notions. Yet, Arya was littler than her and partaking in what could be a greater threat than Sansa. Her sword skills were not fully honed and Sandor couldn’t know very much of the ways of little stubborn girls. 

You did not know what to do. The battle completely evident in your eyes, so Sandor grabbed hold of you and shook you till you gave him your attention. 

“Come with me,” he begged selfishly. “Not for the girls, for yourself, for your dream!” 

All you could do was look into his soft brown eyes. You didn’t even feel yourself nod, you didn’t feel anything until Sandor tucked you into his side with his arm wrapped around your waist and led you behind Arya to the stables. 

Turning back one last time, Sandor watched you shed one single tear looking back at King’s Landing. That was the first tear he ever saw you give freely, before your chest heaved due to a massive breath, you shuddered and urged your horse forward. Away from the city and away from your past.

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃     ❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃ 

You surprisingly loved wondering with Arya and Sandor. You found it completely freeing. 

Sandor also loved it, although his grumpy and growly demeanor portrayed otherwise. He was thrilled to be able to have a direct and constant hand in your health and safety. 

He was doing his best to give you all the food you could eat when you were starving, evenly dumping some of his portion into yours silently when he noticed you didn’t have your usual sleepy content post meal face he was familiar with. 

He always sat close by, when you laid down to sleep each night. He wanted you to receive all the rest you needed for the next day, knowing that while you were strong and could defend yourself when needed, you were still not nearly as skilled as himself or Arya, which caused him great unease and little sleep to your great dismay such as now. 

You were restless tonight, rolling over to give your shoulder a break. That is when you noticed Sandor sitting on a log above you staring into the slowly dying fire. “You should sleep too, Sandor.” 

For several moments the only response you received was a grunt, before he finally muttered. “I’m fine. Gotta keep watch.” That caused you to rise from your sleep matt. “Do you keep every night?” To which you received another affirmative grunt.  

You got up to sit on the log next to him closer than you ever had before-shoulder to shoulder and thigh pressed to his thigh. You then thumped your head against his shoulder, the crown of your head kissing the unbearded skin of his neck causing a shiver to set fire up his spine.

“I can watch sometimes too you know, if there was a threat I could hold them off long enough for you to wake up and take care of it. You shouldn’t have to shoulder all of the burden, Sandor.” 

“And you’re not going to take on any of the burden… end of story” he retorted with a tone of finality. 

“Very well, I will just have to take extra care of you then won’t I hon.” He just let your statement drift off into the air, not trusting his voice. You did not urge him to respond either, knowing him possibly more than any other human in his life. You were content with his presence and his silence, choosing to curl up into his side further. 

Sandor sighed to feign annoyance, but was all too willinging to wrap and arm around you and tuck you closer to him, his large body shielding you from the night chill, while he was lost in thought. You couldn’t have 

The next day and the days following you made good of the words you spoke to him. 

Sometimes mending his clothes, stitching the worn fabric into a whole garment again. You would never tell him that this was just a tactic to see him shirtless, and that it may have been worthwhile to just buy a new shirt when they reached town. 

When you noticed Sandor sliding into his seat stiffly or grunting while he moved, you were more than happy to offer to massage his sore and tired muscles. 

Thus he was now shoved to a sitting position on the ground as you stood in between his legs, brows furrowed as you removed what remained of his beat up armor. Triumphantly clapping your hands once the pieces were tossed onto the ground beside you. “Where does it ache?” You questioned. 

“Shoulders.” He all but growled not out of anger, but in disbelief that this was a reality and not one of his many fantasies. 

Humming you placed your soft hands delicately onto his broad frame and began pressing into his muscles, forming small circles to feel for the tense tissue below. Once you hit a sore spot you applied a slightly firmer grip as you began to work out the kinks and knots that had formed during Sandor’s consistent labor. 

After a few minutes, the giant of a man began to relax and lean into your touch, head bowing in relief as reprieve washed over his body. 

Before he could stop it, his forehead continued forward before it was stopped by your soft tummy with a thunk, causing you to sigh in content as you continued your ministrations. 

Another time he would have been embarrassed for such an action, but in this moment he just relished in being comforted by the woman he loved. 

All too soon you finished, brushing his hair behind his ear before stepping back. Sandor had yet to raise his head from its lowered position or make a sound. 

Face drawn up in worry, you grasped his scruffy chin and raised it so his eyes had no choice but to meet yours, “Are you alright, Sandor? Did I hurt you?” you questioned softly, eyes searching for any clue into his mind. 

“No, never. You could never hurt me.” Sandor allowed himself to lean into the warmth of your hand. “Thank you, love.” 

“I don’t need thanks from you, you know I would do anything in my power for you hon. Lay down and rest for me, I’ll get you if something requires your attention.” 

And for the first time in his life, Sandor obliged, heart warmed from your care. He laid down on the ground and closed his eyes. While the old him would have felt shame in forsaking his duty for his own needs, all he felt in this moment was your love and care. The last thought ringing in his mind before sleep overtaking him was that from this moment onward he would do everything in his power to earn more of it from you and greedily take any of it you freely offered him. 

This was the first time Sandor felt loved by someone, but you certainly made sure it wouldn’t be his last. 

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃     ❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃ 

You were more frightened in this moment than you could ever recall being. When Brienne of Tarth managed to throw Sandor from the cliff you felt your heart fall with him. 

Without thinking you instantly turned your back to his assailants and raced down the hill to find him praying for him not to be dead. 

There you found him begging Arya to relieve him of his misery doing his best to goad her into his wishes. You stood frozen as she refused, simply choosing to take his coins and leave him for dead instead. 

You painstakingly waited till she and Brienne were out of sight before rushing to his side, mortified at the extent of his wounds he sustained in addition to the festering gash in his neck. But what crushed you the most was his eyes, there was no liquid golden fire in his brown eyes, they were dull and dark showcasing the true weariness he has carried all of his life. 

“Please love,” he muttered weakly, clasping the wrist that was petting his hair, you not knowing what to do to ease his pain at this moment, paralyzed with fear. “You must go, you must leave me. I believe this is as far as I am going to go.” 

You shook your head violently, fat droplets ever streaming down your face, “I cannot, I will not! You will make it Sandor, you have to make it!”

“Do not waste your efforts on me, Y/N. You have your whole life yet to live. You have dreams that are yet to be fulfilled. Go fulfill them, love.” 

“They have been fulfilled, daft idiot!” you yelled, grasping his face tightly between your hands, “You have fulfilled them. My dreams lie with you… they only exist because you do. And if you die-” a sob choking up your words, “My dreams die with you, my life dies with you, I will continue as a lifeless body, waiting for my fate so my soul may return to yours!” You stood up suddenly full with emotion chest heaving with distraught, “So you have to try, Sandor, you have to. If not for yourself, try for me, fight for me, live for me.” “Alright my love, alright! I yield for you.” Those were the only words he could muster, overwhelmed by your pleas and confessions. 

Indeed he did yield, over the following weeks he let you pester over every little thing. 

You cooked tirelessly to infuse bone broth with meat still left on the bone, more vegetables than Sandor would have preferred but still swallowed when you lifted it to his lips. 

You cleaned his wounds, stitched the larger gashes closed wincing every time you pierced his skin, applied salve and bandaged every little knick you could find. All while he stared wordlessly ahead not uttering a single complaint. 

When the sun set you demanded he rested whether he claimed he was rested or not, guiding his head to rest on your thick thighs while you stroked his hair, his scars, and his cheeks till his breath evened out. 

He let you remove his torn and bloody clothes, sitting perfectly still as you used a spare cloth to remove as much of the grime and dried blood as you could before dressing him in clean clothes once more. 

He even conceded to let you wash his hair, leaning back against a rock, head hanging off the edge as you poured water over his crown, eyes fluttering closed as you threaded your fingers through his hair combing knots out of his hair and cleansing his scalp of any filth that darken his locks further. 

It was because of you that a few short weeks later he was back on his feet sitting in an old tavern drinking mead in the warmth radiating from the fire in the hearth, looking more alive then he did before his battle and his fall. 

And you were glowing under the golden hues beaming across the room from the dancing flames. A small but radiating smile of content graces your features as you quietly sit beside him sipping from your mug as you watch the townspeople, talk and laugh and be merry. 

Feeling his gaze bore into the side of your face, you turned to Sandor, “Well, now that you are better, what do you wish to see or do, hon?” 

A pregnant pause laid over the pair of you causing you to wonder if you spoke loud enough over the cheers and conversations surrounding you. 

Finally his deep voice reached your ears, “I intend to show you my gratitude for your grace and patience. Then when I am satisfied with my performance, I am going to follow you till you find your paradise and once you do I will build you a house.” 

You dropped your jaw in shock at his blunt confession. This did not deter him from rising to his feet, swinging his leg around the bench and clasping his hand over your wrist and urging you to follow him to the room you both paid for upstairs. 

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃     ❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

After following you into the small room, he latched the door shut and moved to stand before you, eyes searching for any sign of discomfort or hesitation. 

When he found none, he slid one large muscled arm around your waist and pulled you against his chest, the other hand moving to cup the back of your neck angling your face towards him. 

Your breath hitched as he moved so his lips were only a few inches away from yours before he paused, “Do you wish for this? May I continue?” 

Instantly, you pushed onto your toes and closed the distance pressing your lips firmly against his as a response. 

This pulled a grunt of surprise from the man, but his surprise did not keep him from returning the kiss feverishly. 

Lips glide against lips, and you move your hands up his sides to rest against his firm, broad chest. 

The hand clasped against your neck moving to thread through the locks of hair and the base of your skull before tugging lightly to better angle your mouth to his. 

You gasp toward the sensation, Sandor using the opportunity to poke his tongue out and trace each of your lips before messaging against yours. 

With a groan, his hands left their respective places to slide against the back of your thighs before gripping the fat as he hoisted you effortlessly into his arms. 

You swing each of your legs around his thick waist in response, and your arms encircling his neck resting your biceps onto his shoulders and you press your lips harder into his. 

With a few large strides, Sandor crossed the room before resting your back gently onto the bed. 

You were too distracted by the feel of his body to unwrap yourself from him, causing a deep resounding chuckle to vibrate in his chest before cupping your face and pulling his lips from yours. 

You whine at the loss of contact trying to follow his lips, but he pulled his head too far out of your reach. 

“I know, my love,” He assured as he brushed strands from your face to rest along with the rest of your hair splayed out around your head like a crown. “Let me take care of you, as you did for me. Let me praise and worship you, so that you may know what I have to offer and what you shall receive for the rest of your life. Will you honor me with this, please love, let me do this for you.” He pleaded, causing the butterflies to dance around your stomach before fluttering their way to your core, lighting a fire to accompany the warmth already starting to pool in between your thighs. 

“Please Sandor, god yes please.” the words barely left your lips before he crashed to his knees pulling your hips towards the edge of the bed till the cups of your ass kissed the end of the mattress. 

He splayed his hands across your hip bones, as he looked at you with a questioning gaze. 

After you consented with a nod, he quickly pulled the laces of your pants from their ties and slid the form fitting fabric down your thighs and off your legs before launching the article across the room with haste. 

“Lift your arms, I will see all of you as I worship you for this blessed first time, darling.” he commanded, to which you happily obliged, arching your back and raising your hands above your head. He removed the tunic and tossed it in the same fashion as your pants, before sweeping his gaze across every inch of your skin. 

His large and warm hands gliding to your supple soft breasts tracing the curve they produced before squeezing the mounds into his palms relishing in the whimper you gave him in response followed by a soft “Please!”. 

“I know what you need my love, just have a little patience for me,” he urged, taking your hard nipples in between his thumb and pointer finger beginning to roll and pinch them earning him a louder whine as you pushed your chest further into his grasp. 

He dipped his lips to your left breast, poking his tongue out to swirl against the perky bud, teasing you a little before, taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking while twirling and lapping at your peak with a little more pressure. 

You mewled in pressure, the menstruations shooting straight to your core causing your hips to search Sandor’s in a desperate attempt to find some friction. “More!” you begged him as he released your boob with a pop before repeating the same treatment to the right, his hand coming to replace his mouth on your left tit. 

Once he was satisfied with his treatment he pulled back to look at his work. Your chest heaving as your breasts glistened from the coating of his saliva. “You are exquisite, Y/N.” he murmured against your skin as he placed hot open mouthed kisses down a path on your stomach. “I think, I’ll have to make you mine, don’t you think? All mine, all for me and no one else. Yes, and if they tried to take you from me I will cut them down where they stand and lay you down and fuck you in their blood.” He placed one last kiss on your skin, his bottom lip brushing against the soft curls at the top of your mound. He lifted his gaze to your eyes where you were watching him, lust and need swirling around the pools of your irises. “Don’t you think that is fair love. You want that?” 

“Yes, Sandor, please” you crooned for him. “Please!” you pleaded once more. 

“Please what, my love? Tell me and I shall do it for you.” He knew what you were asking but wanted to bask in hearing your words grace his ears for the first time. 

“Please touch me!” You cried. “But I have touched your love, is it not enough? Where do you need my touch, darling?” Sandor began tracing little patterns on the inside of your thighs testing your patience, skirting close to your folds before shying away. 

“I need your fingers or your mouth! I need them inside please, I need you inside!” tears started to well up in your pretty eyes causing Sandor to give in and stop his teasing. 

Torturously slow he spread your thighs, watching as strings of your arousal stretched between your wet folds. This sight alone caused Sandor to let out a deep guttural groan, his cock swelling against the seams of his trousers. But he paid no mind instead choosing to inch closer to your puffy pussy, close enough for you to feel his hot breath fanning against your aroused core. 

“Look at you! Isn’t she such a pretty perfect little pussy? Is this all for me, my love?” 

“Yes, for you! All for you!” You answered by lifting your hips in hopes of relief. 

“Thank you for this wonderful gift, lovely, I’m going to have to give it a taste.” With that he pulled your folds apart even further and took on lip into his mouth sucking as much of your arousal as he could before doing the same to the opposite fold, before gliding the flat surface of his tongue from your entrance to your seam causing a delish scrap against your clit. 

You threw your head back as you moaned loud for him, hands moving to grip his brown tresses. Spurred on by your noises, Sandor began prodding, sucking and licking at your swollen little bud trying to coax as much of your arousal as possible. Seemingly satisfied, he dragged one of his thick fingers through your fold before knocking it against the opening of your entrance. 

All at once he pulled your pearl into his mouth beginning to suck lewdly at it while he slid his finger into your wet cunt. 

“Sandorrr!” You moaned, shocked by the intensity of the sensations trying to rock your pelvis into his mouth, only to be stopped and pinned to the mattress by his free arm. 

“I got you love, let me have you.” he coaxed releasing your bud to give it a kiss before returning to alternating between licking and sucking on your bud working hard to coax your first orgasm for him. 

As you began climbing towards your peak he added another finger along with the first, giving you a delicious burn to the pleasure you were feeling that sent your reeling. A spew of moans and whimpers falling from your lips as Sandor set a rhythm between his mouth and fingers. 

“I gotta stretch you open, darling, I’m a big man. You gotta cum for me first if you want my cock love.”

Chants of his name in broken high pitched whimpers were given to him in response as you hurled up towards your release thighs clenching deliciously and core winding that knot impossibly tight. 

Sensing you were getting close, Sandor curled his fingers up into your cunt finding and massaging that gooey spot inside you with each thrust, causing you to reel and thrash against the bed. 

Finally, the cord inside you snapped as you tipped over the edge, your orgasm washing over you, Sandors name being the only thought and words in your brain and leaving your lips and you rode out your high. 

“God, you are squeezing me so tight, love. How is my cock going to fit in such a tight little cunt?” Sandor groaned, still slowly pumping his fingers aiding in milking you of orgasm for all it would give him before he slid them out of you with a loud squelching noise. 

You laid there trying to catch your breath as you watched in shock as he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them clean before dropping them. 

Chuckling as he saw your surprised expression he told you, “You taste divine, darling, I will never let such a sweet nectar go to waste, I promise you.” 

Rising from his knees, he tore off his shirt and hastily untied his pants before shucking them down his legs. 

This caused his cock to spring from its confinements and slap against his stomach allowing you to get a glimpse of him. 

You gulped nervously. You knew he had to be larger than the average man just like the rest of him. But knowing it and actually seeing him in front of you were two completely separate things. 

Sensing your apprehension, he stroked your cheek lovingly. “I won’t deny that there will be some discomfort initially, but you have all my patience and more and I will go slow. You are in control and we can stop anytime it becomes too much, alright my love?” 

“Thank you,” you whispered, nerves fading slightly. 

He stroked himself a few times before sliding his dick against your folds collecting all the arousal you were willing to give him, making sure to tap your clit lightly a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. 

Sandor looked down at you and once you gave him a nod he slowly began sliding the tip inside your entrance. 

Although it was just his tip, the stretch was immense causing you to hiss at the filling and clutch your biceps. 

Sandor paused there for a moment, until you seemed okay and pushed in a little more. 

Finally after repeating the pattern a few more times, you looked down as he rested inside you while you grew adjusted to see that he was only about half way. 

“I’m going to push in all the way now, love. It will probably be easier for you, I need you to try and relax for me.You are clenching me so tight.” He groaned into your neck as he used all his strength not to just drill himself into you. 

You did your best to relax as he slid the rest in before he finally kissed your cervix with his mushroom tip.

“Take your time and adjust to love, let me know when you are ready.” 

After several moments, you whispered, “I’m okay, please move.” 

Placing both of his hands beside your head Sandor slowly dragged his cock out of you just a bit before sliding back. Repeating the slow rhythm a few times more for himself than it was for you. 

Soon you grew impatient and pressed your hips towards his before whining “More, Sandor, give me more! I need more!” 

This seemed to light something inside of the man because he then began picking up speed, his hips snapping against yours. Everytime he was fully seated inside you the roll of his hips brushed the wisps of hair at the base of his cock against your clit, sending you reeling with pleasure. 

Far too soon you felt the onset of your second orgasm, “Sandor, I’m close,” you warned before whining another “Please,” not entirely sure what you were begging him for. “So am I love, come for me, come with me. We will do it together.” he groaned from his place by your ear, his hips snapping as he started thrusting with a bit more force. He reached between your bodies and started thumbing your clit, causing your orgasm to crash over you with a moan, walls spasming around his length coaxing his orgasm, which he gave to you almost instantly. His hips sputtered as he tried to maintain his rhythm as he shot thick long ropes of cum into your gummy center filling you up. After a few more thrusts, he stilled inside you as he took a moment to collect himself and catch his breath. 

A few minutes later, he raised himself up onto his elbows and looked into your eyes, “Did I hurt you, my love? Are you alright?” 

“No, I am quite wonderful actually,” you huffed with a laugh. 

“Good, I am pleased to hear it. You look so beautiful like this.” He supplied before leaning down to capture your lips once more. 

Once you separated he slipped out of you and rolled over, pulling you to rest your head onto his chest while he twirled strands of your hair around your fingers. 

You looked up at him, causing him to meet your gaze.

“I love you, Sandor,” you told him, pressing a kiss to his chest. 

“I have loved you since we rode together from Winterfell.” He admitted to you before clasping one of your small hands into his own. “Marry me,Y/N. Become my wife, let me father your children, and build your  home. Let me cut down the wood for your fires, and always be there to eat the food you cook. It is what I have always wanted, please let it be me.” 

“It was always you, silly goose, from the moment that little prick asked me what I dreamed of, I will happily marry you, always.” 

Filled with excitement, Sandor sat up and thrusted you back in once more for a bruisingly sweet kiss. 

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃     ❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃ 

Many years later, you realized you fulfilled your dream. 

Shortly after that night you and Sandor quickly got married. 

It was a short ceremony, no one you knew was there. Just you and Sandor and some random townsperson, Sandor gave a few coins to marry you two. 

Afterwards you set off to find the perfect place to build your house, and eventually you did. 

Some many miles away from any other people, there was a quaint little meadow on top of a hill, with a little lake laying at the bottom. 

And so Sandor got to work building a house to your exact specifications. Lots of windows, a porch so you could read and watch the kids play. A good size kitchen and a cozy fire next to the table. A modest bedroom for the two of you to share and a few extra rooms for the potential for future kids. It wasn’t the grandest of buildings nor was it the most humble, but it was yours and you love it. 

Shortly after the completion of the house, you found a pair of dogs completely different from one another in breed. One was big and mean looking although it was a huge sweetie, which Sandor claimed and named Reaper. 

Meanwhile your companion was a fluffy pointy eared little ball of energy in which you named Nylah. 

After a few years you finally became pregnant and gave birth to a daughter you named Aurora, and following your oldest you gave Sandor two more daughters Odessa and Hadleigh. 

Although Sandor did not picture himself a father he certainly did not anticipate being a father to three daughters, but alas they were the perfect gifts. 

And you never cease to find a kick out of watching the large beast that was your husband gruffly oblige almost instantly to your little girl's wishes for little fairy houses or play kitchens. Always caving into spoiling his little girls and never refusing a chance to join their tea parties or play family. 

Eventually you gave birth to a set of twins in which you decided would be your last. This time the twins are both boys, Cristen and Harper. 

At first, Sandor was petrified at the prospect of two sons, fearing he would raise them wrong and them growing in contempt like himself and his brother. 

But as both the boys grew, he quickly realized his father’s faults and recognized his boys’ differences and did his best to cultivate their strengths. 

You were given the perfect little life by Sandor and in return you gave him more love than he even deserved, surrounded by their beautiful childrens with a life you built with your own hands. Sandor will be eternally indebted to you and vowed to love you deservingly for all the days you had with him. 

[machveil]

GuardDog!Simon Riley x Puppy!Reader x Mutt!John MacTavish thoughts? they’re all just coded that way to me hmmm (a bit of a longer post, whoopsies)

CW: ambiguous relationship dynamic - up to your interpretation, size difference, “Pup” and “Puppy”, Simon x Reader x Johnny

GuardDog!Simon Riley who’s just on the border of being a hair too protective over you. can you blame him? in his eyes you’re just a little thing that needs him - Simon’s puppy who needs to be safeguarded. he shields you from strangers, blocking their view of you with his broad body. he has half a mind to snarl at them, bare his teeth and fight tooth and nail for you. he’ll drape his jacket over you, make it known that you’re with him

Mutt!Johnny who’s excitable around you, always has his big, rough hands holding or resting against you. he’s not as openly intimidating as Simon, but his possessive streak rivals his. while Simon aims to guard you, drape you in his clothes and scent, Johnny will happily bite and nip on your skin in public. grubby hands pawing at your hips and waist, sloppy, uncoordinated kisses pressed to your cheeks. when someone approaches you Johnny will slink up behind you, hands resting over your tummy as he smiles at the poor stranger, chin resting on your shoulder

GuardDog!Simon Riley who begrudgingly lets you wander off in shops you like. he’ll stalk behind you from a distance, always keeping an eye on you - never too far out of reach in case someone approaches you. he’s oblivious to how it looks - his massive figure, dressed head to to toe in black, following a cute little thing like you around. oblivious to how employees and shoppers stare at him, he’s scared a couple people before for approaching you. they were just concerned about the man following, you sweetly explaining how Simon is with you, a good dog, making sure you’re safe

Mutt!Johnny who has no shame, will grab you by the fat of your hips and sit you down on his lap. you’re not getting up, his arms locking around your waist as he kisses your neck - his scruff grazing your skin lightly. “Bein’ a good pup?”, he asks, delighted when you squirm. you’ll get up when Johnny is ready to, even if it means being stuck in his lap for a couple hours. he won’t neglect you though, makes sure you have snacks and a drink, keeping himself busy by petting your hair, gently scratching at your scalp as he relaxes. it’s nice, right bonnie?

bonus Hound!Price x Puppy!Reader thoughts

Hound!Price who sees you, his cute little puppy, and keeps his gaze trained on you. it’s hard to get his attention off of you, stalking up behind you to hug your waist. just a little thing, swallowed by his frame as he holds you. it’s less for your enjoyment and more for his, pressing kisses to the nape of your neck, his scruffy beard tickling your skin. he’ll ask about your day, who you saw, what you ate - he just wants listen to you

Hound!Price who loves the smell of your shampoo and body wash, who would drown in your scent if he could. perfume or cologne, he’ll spray your preference on you in the morning before pressing his face to your neck. he soaks it up, hugs you so your scent rubs off on him, keeps him company throughout the day. if you’d rather though, Price isn’t afraid to pull you into the shower and use his shampoo and soap on you, hands gently massaging the suds against your skin. he won’t stop until you reek of each other

CW: Fem!Reader, uuh Ghost x Reader x Johnny again<3, Simon guiding(?) Johnny, Mutt!Johnny just gets so excited, oral (Fem!recieving)

GuardDog!Simon Riley has one job, making sure you’re kept safe and happy. he doesn’t know a better way of doing that than propping you up on his lap, sitting pretty with your legs spread. back pressed to his chest as he presses a firm kiss to the back of your head. lazily rubbing circles over your clit, dipping down to slide his middle finger into your cunt, only to stop and thumb at your pearl again. eyelids drooping as he listens to you whine, soft little moans coaxed out of you by his hand. Simon who beckons Johnny over, haphazardly rubbing his palm against your slit

Mutt!Johnny who kneels on the floor, pupils dilated as he nips at your thighs. gaze glued to where Simon’s hand is, messily spreading your slick around. when he pulls his hand away you can’t complain, not when his hand moves to grip Johnny’s mohawk. a muffled groan, Johnny can’t help but squirm as Simon guides his face between your thighs, lapping at your cunt. no technique or thought behind his movement, drool and spit mixing with your cum. you can’t be mad at him, not when he’s desperately moaning against your heat, nosing at your clit without knowing

[axelsagewrites]

What They're Like in Bed

Includes: Robb, Jon, Sandor, Podrick

Warnings: TW under cut. 18+

Word count: 854

Masterlist Here

Robb

Robb is defiantly a dom. He might be the biggest romantic and will do anything you ask outside of the bedroom but inside your private chambers he is in control and if you want him to do something to you, he will gladly listen to you beg for it. This man has a thing for control and loves when you call him your king and don’t think about not asking for permissions before you act.

He loves to use a mix of praise and degradation to make you squirm beneath him, calling you his pretty little whore. He likes to hold your face, grabbing your jaw or pulling up your chin, to force you to keep eye contact with him. He gets off on the humiliation but its worth it for the things he can do with his tongue. This man is like a starved wolf when he goes down on you.

Despite his dom nature he is still caring during the whole act, leaving kisses over your body and soothing any parts of you he worried he grabbed too hard. After the act is done, he is quick to scoop you into his arms and hold you, showring your head with kisses and your ears with compliments.

Jon (more headcannons here)

Jon is a switch, so you get to have it both ways. You get the desperate to please Jon who begs to even touch you and who moans shamelessly at your touch. However, you also get the Jon who likes to grab you by your hips and bend you over any table or against any wall that’s closest.

His favourite thing is to watch you cum around him or because of him. Its his favourite part of the whole thing, watching your face contort into a mix of pain and pleasure as he finally allows you to reach your peak. That can take a bit though because this man lives for edging you and teasing the shit out of you. As you do with him. Despite loving to be cared for and praised he is a massive brat who whines when he does not instantly get what he wants.

Jons quite private about your sex life and it took him a while to admit to all his kinks to you. You knew he had a mommy kink from the beginning, but he refused to admit it for so long.

Sandor

Sandor would never admit it but he fucking loves when his partner is a brat. He loves to put you in your place, pinning you down with ease and fucking you senseless. He loves to grab your hips and chest or to be gripping and pulling your hair. He just loves to be able to throw you around really. It was slightly inevitable because of his size but he loves the size difference between you.

Sex with him is always pretty rough. Your body is often littered with bruises that he refuses to admit are deliberate. He wants everyone to know you’re his whether that be by leaving a hickey or two on or neck or having you moan and scream his name.

At first, he is always wary during sex that his size may hurt you or that you could do better but eventually you are able to convince him you can handle it. he struggled to understand that you liked the feeling of his spankings or him choking you, but he was more than happy to comply. after sex though he is always very careful and makes sure you are okay. he will hold you or even bathe you depending on how rough he had been.

Podrick

Podrick is the definition of a people pleaser. He’s very shy and unsure of himself to start but his shy and blushy nature is what endeared you. This man subs and he subs hard. He doesn’t hesitate to do exactly what you tell him too and he won’t stop till he’s told.

He loves your body. Like obsessed with it. he’s constantly praising how good you look and begging to touch you. He will kiss every inch of your skin when you let him. However, his lips always fall back to one place in particular. He will spend hours with you riding his face if you let him. If you’re not riding your face, he’s begging for you to ride him instead.

After he builds his confidence up, he sometimes will get a bit cocky and try dom you instead. Sometimes you let him and when you do, he will pin you down and fuck you senseless into the pillow. However, he does still love to see your face when he does. Other times you quickly remind him of his place and his bratting doesn’t last too long since he is as desperate to receive praise as he is to give it. After yous are done he loves to take turns holding you and being held. however, he’s always up for another round and your post sex cuddles will soon turn into round two or cock warming while he waits for you to be ready.

A/N: Gonna do another part next of some of the GOT girls. Any specific ppl you want included (guys or gals since I'll probably do more of the guys)

[honeyxbunny99]

Sandor Clegane~ The Bitch and The Hound pt.5

You rolled over onto your other side and woke in a start when your arm ran into something big. You gasped, having never woken to a man in your bed. Then memory struck that the muscled hairy frame beside you belonged to your husband, who had just fucked you into perhaps the best sleep you'd ever had. You smiled to yourself as you watched his body gently heave up and down, hearing him snore. You sat up in bed, covering your chest with a sheet and leaning over to trace small infinity symbols on his bicep.

Your husband grumbled and his hand snapped to your wrist.

"It's me." You assured, kissing his shoulder and placing your other hand on top of his.

"I know it's you... That tickled." He smirked, rolling over and pushing you back down to the bed. You squealed as he hovered on top of you again. "What is this bullshit?" He looked at the sheet and pulled it down to expose your breasts, resulting in another gasp from you. "There they are."

He sighed heavily and laid his head down on your chest, crushing you. You giggled, "Get up."

"Go back to sleep."

You tried to struggle beneath him but he was dead weight. He began snoring exaggeratedly and you squirmed.

"Ooh, careful, I like that." He warned and you stopped immediately, hitting him gently on the shoulder but smiling brightly when he looked at you. ~He's smiling! Really smiling! At me! He likes me!~ You blushed under his gaze before grabbing his face with both hands and joining your lips together in a quick, chaste kiss.

A knock sounded at the door and the handle jiggled up and down.

"(Y/n)? Are you okay in there?"

It was Anna on the other side of the door. You felt like you were doing something wrong and began scrambling, whispering, "What are we gonna do?!"

Sandor laughed at your worried expression. "What if your husband finds out?"

You narrowed your eyes pointedly at him and faked a laugh. He finally raised up from you and you saw he was still naked. "Hide!" You whispered.

"I-I'm fine, Anna, just one second."

"HIDE?!?" Sandor mocked you, matching your whisper. "Are you ashamed of me now?"

"Sandor, your cock is out." He looked down and then turned to you, hands on his hips. "All the more reason to stay put."

"Go, please!" You begged, getting up and quickly putting on a robe before shoving him into the closet. You ran back to the door and cleared your throat, grabbing the key and unlocking it to reveal a very confused Anna. "Hello, my love." You greeted her.

"(Y/n) what happened last night?" She entered the room and sat down on the bed, making herself at home.

"Well, straight into it then, huh?"

"You woke me in the middle of the night to bring bathwater for the hound... Yes, straight into it."

You sat down with her and sighed, praying your husband would keep quiet in the closet and not scare the spirit out of your friend. "Last night, I..." You tried not to stammer and choose your words carefully, knowing he was most likely listening. "I don't know, I just wanted to be kind to him... Anna... He killed for me."

Anna widened her eyes. "Killed who?"

"I don't know, some member of the Kings guard... He was spreading rumors about me and Sandor just turned on him... I think he's warming up to me." You smiled softly, looking down at your hands which you'd joined with hers.

"I think he likes killing." She said coldly, surprising you. "I'm sorry, milady, but I heard what the queen regent said yesterday, and I think she's right... After the way he's been treating you, with a man like that in your life, you'll never have love." She trailed off, regretting the disappointed expression she'd caused on your face. "Except me, (Y/n), of course. I love you!" She wrapped her arms quickly around your shoulders and you pat her gently on the back, though you were offended at her words and truthfully did not want to be holding her at all. "You're too kind and beautiful for that old dog."

"Sandor." You reminded her.

"Sandor... Does he call you by your name?" She quipped, not knowing of all the intimacy you'd shared behind closed doors. She looked back at the sheets and you both saw the blood. She shook her head, her eyes growing angry. "Forgive me, milady, but I won't call him that. You're an angel and he's a dog. Look at what he's done to you, again." She stroked her fingers down your cheek and stood up. "I'll launder these right away, you just rest, (Y/n)."

You watched the closet silently as she stripped the bedding, feeling so horribly embarrassed and sad for your husband. You hadn't expected her to be cruel to him, though you supposed now you should have seen it coming. Anna left the room, closing the door and you stood slowly when Sandor did not emerge.

"Sandor..." You called. "I'm so sorry for what she said about you..." You approached the closet.

"Cersei said that?" You heard him shuffle around.

"Yes... When she pulled me aside in the garden yesterday... She was trying to scare me, but it didn't work."

"No," he emerged, pants and shirt on. "S'pose not seein' as how you drew me a bath instead of ran for the hills."

"Please don't be angry with Anna... I understand if you are, but she only knows what it looks like... The bruises, the blood, the loneliness."

He nodded but would not smile at you any longer.

"Thank you..." You started. He scoffed. "For the bruises?" He looked almost ashamed.

"Yes." You surprised him. "I know that everything you've done has been to protect me... You've made yourself out to be a villain and me a helpless damsel, but that's not what this is. I want to tell Anna about you, about us."

"Bad idea." He walked past you to find his boots.

"She deserves to know the truth, she'll love the real you, as I do, I just know it."

"Fuck what Anna or anyone else thinks about me!" He startled you, turning around to look you in the eyes. "As long as I have you. You're the only one I want to know me, got it?" He walked to you and held your face between his hands, forcing you to look up at him. "If other people know about us, it will only end badly."

You were confused by his desires to keep his kindness a secret, but you nodded anyways. He leaned down and planted a kiss on your forehead.

"Will you be punished for staying in so late?" You wondered aloud as he pulled on his boots. You had never seen him in the morning, after all.

"Today Joffrey is meeting with his small counsel. Not much risk there so I was given the morning off. Still, I best be gone now."

You nodded and helped him quickly put his armor back on. You opened the door for him and watched him leave without another look back at you. "Will you come to me again tonight?" You felt silly asking, like you had a childish crush. You watched the back of his head nod and you smiled and bit your lip.

You walked through the castle halls with Anna and cringed whenever she spoke poorly about 'the hound'. "I swear, the mountain should have just finished the job back when they were boys and everyone'd be better for it--"

You couldn't take it anymore, and you grabbed her by her arms and shoved her up against a wall. "Enough." You hissed. Her eyes were wild with shock and you almost felt bad. "Sandor is my husband. I will not have you wishing death, calling him ugly, cruel, anything of the sort. You know nothing about him!"

"Milady, I am--"

"Everything you think about him is false. He has been kind to me, has sacrificed for me in ways you can't imagine." You released our grip on her finally, embarrassed you had let your emotions get the best of you. "I am sorry, but when you lash out against his name, you lash out against mine now."

Anna did not say anything for a very long time, only stared at you. Finally, she asked, "Are you in love with Sandor Clegane?"

You thought on her question for a moment, breathing deeply. "No..." You settled. A soft, barely noticeable smile tugged at her mouth.

"And I'm not a handmaid." She replied. You smiled softly back at her, knowing she saw the lie in your tone as soon as you spoke it. "You're going to have to explain to me how that happened." She chuckled and offered her arm out to take yours again. You hesitated but eventually joined her side again. The pair of you walked back to your room smiling.

You decided to leave out the first night, only discussing the last two nights you'd spent together. You tried to explain the events as plainly as they happened, highlighting Sandor's best moments, but occasisonally you would get distracted and blush talking about how he looked or how his touch felt against you. Even Anna would blush and giggle with you.

"And well, this morning when I woke up, he was still there..." You began and she gasped.

"He wasn't-- When I came in and-- Oh no!" She hid her face in embarrassment. You comforted her.

"He was, I made him hide in the closet. I don't know why I just didn't want him to scare you, I guess. I didn't know if he wanted you to know we were together..."

"Milday Clegane, I offer a thousand apologies for my stupid tongue!" She shook her head. "I'll apologize to Sandor as soon as I see him."

"No, don't!" You raised your eyebrows. "He can't know that you know!"

"Why not?" She furrowed her brows.

You sighed, "I don't know, all I do know is that he told me if anyone found out the truth about us it could be bad..."

She nodded slowly. "He fears for your safety... You're meant to be tortured, not cumming and falling in love."

Your eyes widened and you both laughed, leaning into each other.

"No, he's right... It's best no one knows. Someone could report it to Joffrey and you'd be put in a much worse position than you are now."

Your stomach flipped at the thought. You wondered for a moment about Anna, if you should have trusted her with all this information. Your heart sank at the realization that you had just handed her all that she needed to betray you. "You... You won't tell anyone, will you?"

She narrowed her eyes at you. "(Y/n) they would cut out my tongue before it would speak a word against you... Or your husband." She nodded, and with the conviction in her voice, you had to trust her. "I still say that he's a lucky man... But with the way you've described him last night, I can see the appeal." She laughed and you gawked.

Anna braided your hair and told you about her own sexual encounter last night after the tournament. Later she left the room to fetch your dinner and you laid back on your bed.

"An open door, hiding behind it the prettiest girl in Kings Landing." An unfamiliar voice called from the hall. You sat up suspiciously and peeked your head to try to see. The hall looked empty from where you were standing, and so you walked closer to your door and peeked your head around the corner.

You gasped, "Gods!" before smiling to match the stranger's.

"I'm sorry to frighten you, dear, that was not my intent."

"And what was your intent, calling out to me so ominously?" You joked.

"I wanted to see you. I meant to introduce myself at your wedding, though you looked a bit fearful, so I stayed back... Petyr Baelish." He offered a small bow.

"(Y/n) (L/n)-- Clegane." You stuttered, correcting yourself. In truth, you hadn't introduced yourself post marriage before. You supposed you'd better start practicing. He smiled wider at your mistake.

"Yes, yes I know..." He didn't seem to be budging so finally you stepped out fully into the hall, ever conscious of your open door and the setting sun. "I wish to offer you my condolences; I heard tales of your abuse in the throne room, and now to be married to man called 'Hound'... It's not a fate fitting of such a beauty."

You tried to smile at his compliment, but his prescence felt almost threatening--snake like. "Thank you, Lord Baelish... I am safe and my family is safe, and that is all that matters to me now."

"Safe?" He quirked a brow. "Do you feel safe with him? With The Hound?"

Your mouth went dry, and you felt as if you were being interrogated for some crime. "He is as they describe him, but it's nothing I can't handle."

"Oh yes, you're very strong; of that I'm certain... I lost a girl to him once." He shook his head. "You see I'm in the purveyance of pleasure, the finest house in the land for it..." He looked around the hall proudly before focusing his eyes back on you, scanning you up and down. "One night, he came to my hall... Asked for a girl, a young girl. I don't deal in children and so I gave him the youngest I had at the time; a girl about your age. She'd come to me from the street, begging for shelter in exchange for her services; said she couldn't survive another day alone out there. I took her in... When I gave her to the hound that night, she looked frightened, and I suppose she should have been."

You studied him and tried not to let on that his story was indeed beginning to frighten you.

"The next morning, she packed her things and told me she had to leave. She couldn't bare the risk of seeing his face again, letting him touch her. She said 'I'd rather die in the street, than be raped by that monster again.'" Petyr swiped his tongue across his lips and leaned in closer to you, you unconsciously mirroring him. "I thought she was weak, at the time. But looking back on it all these years, without another incident from him, I've wondered what he'd done to frighten her so. When I heard of your betrothal, I pitied you. I wondered how long it would take before you chose death as well... Yet here you are, smiling and safe… Now, you've rendered me curious."

His eyes lit up as he concluded, but you were horrified. You closed your mouth and tried to fix your expression. "I..."

"He was stalking outside my pleasure house the night after your wedding night, drunk and angry... It was bad for business." He dropped casually and you bit your tongue.

"Tell me, my dear... Has this marriage been consummated?" Your eyes widened and you reared your head back in offence.

"Ask the maester. Ask my handmaiden." You said with venom in your tone, but he only smirked.

"I am asking you."

You nodded. "As I said, its nothing I can't handle. He is my punishment for speaking ill to King Joffrey, and I accept it. It is a fate befitting a bitch like me, as he said."

"I worry only for your honor, my lady." He leaned forward with another small bow and this time reached his hand out to take yours. You reluctantly obliged and allowed him to bring your hand to his mouth. "And for the women in my employ." He kissed your knuckles and acknowledged the soft bruising on your wrist. He cupped his hands around yours. "A flower means nothing to a man so violent... Do hold strong, Lady Clegane. If you ever need me, you can send Anna to me. She knows the way." He gave his sly smile again and you narrowed your brows at his knowledge of Anna.

"I'll keep it in mind..." You spoke lowly now. You couldn't put into words why you were so uncomfortable. He made no outright threats to you, no insults, and you'd heard no rumors about any dastardly deeds. Almost effortlessly, though, it felt as if he saw right through you.

You heard Anna's steps come closer until she looked up and saw Lord Baelish. Her steps slowed and her eyes cast down. "A pleasure." He nodded to you, and you nodded back, watching as he disappeared silently down another hall.

"What did he say to you?!" She questioned immediately, concern in her eyes.

"I-- Nothing."

"He never says nothing. He tries to confuse people, manipulate them, but he's always talking." She hurried past you and set the food tray onto the table.

"He told me a story about Sandor..." You were still coming to terms with it yourself. Could he have really hurt that girl so much?

Anna walked up to you and grabbed your hands to ground you. "Listen to me. He says nothing for the benefit of others. Only himself. It's best not to listen to a word he says. Just put it out of your mind."

"But, Anna.." your eyes began to well with tears of panic, reflecting on the conversation. "He questioned our marriage... What if he knows, what if he saw somehow that I love him?!"

"Then he'll think you're a stupid girl! Sandor will not budge, he doesn't speak positively of anyone. I'm sure he's still going around with his usual grimace." She assured and you steadied your breathing. "But maybe it's not enough... Maybe you need to play your part better. If he won't hut you anymore then you need to stay inside for a while. I will bring you all your meals and should anyone ask, you are unwell." You nodded.

"This is so ridiculous.” You sniffled. “Sandor’s nowhere near the monster everyone thinks he is.”

“Well you’d better start acting like he is.” She ordered. “You’re Joffrey’s prisoner whether he said it outright or not, and The Hound is your keeper. Love him in private, hate him in public.” You nodded, though you could not deny the sadness brewing in your heart at the thought.

Just then, the door swung open to reveal Sandor. “Out.”

Anna looked at you for an extra second to ensure you understood before she nodded at your husband and exited. Immediately he began to remove his armor and you wrang your hands together once to calm your nerves. You were so worried you had done something wrong and that your relationship would crumble any moment. You turned on your heel and walked over to him to help with his armor. As soon as you came to touch him he stopped his actions and looked over your face. When you had released the last piece from its lacing, he took your face in one of his hands and forced your eyes up to him.

“You’re upset. What happened now?”

You tried to gently pull your face back but he held onto it so easily. “Nothing’s happened. I’m not upset.” You tried to smile, though his fingers squeezed your cheeks.

“You’re as bad a liar as I am a dancer.” He released your face and sneered. “Was it that bitch? I’ll call her back here, she shouldn’t be upsetting you.”

“Sandor…” you said, hardly above a whisper, tears of shame threatening to spill past your lashes. “I think I fucked up.”

His face hardened and you held yourself for comfort. “I told Anna—“ “You told Anna what?!” He demanded.

“About last night! I told her… I was just trying to get her to stop saying horrible things about you and then she saw it in my eyes—“

“Saw what in your eyes?!” He looked so angry you shuttered before answering.

“My love for you… She said that it was obvious, that she should have seen it this morning.” Your voice lowered in shame and the tears ultimately slipped out. When you finally looked back at him, his face was angry but his eyes were wide in shock.

“I took her back to the room and told her about last night, about how you swore you would come to me at night to watch over me, how I’ve never felt more at peace than I did last night knowing that you were beside me…”

You waited for a berating but when his face made no change you huffed softly and walked to the bed to sit down. You pouted, feeling once again that you’d ruined everything.

“Do you trust her?” His voice was surprisingly soft.

You thought for a moment, still too ashamed to meet his gaze. “I only trust you… There is no doubt in my heart or mind about who you are to me… But Anna said that she would have her own tongue severed before she spoke against us… she’s never been anything but a friend to me. I trust her, but..”

“But?” He asked and you shut your eyes tightly.

“Do you know a man named Petyr Baelish?” Your eyes focused on his shoes now, still by the door. “Little finger?” He recognized. “I know him, he’s a snake. He’s that little shit’s Master of Coin.”

You were stunned he hadn’t been angry with you yet— you wanted to bash your own head into a wall. “He came to our room… he… He asked me if our marriage had been consummated.. He,” you looked up at him now, nearly accusing him. “said that after our wedding night you were hanging around his whore house.”

He grumbled and kicked a piece of his armor in anger. “That little cunt!” You stood in reaction to his outburst. “I’m not angry with you!”

“You have no right to be!” He retorted as he walked quickly over to the wine. As he drank you steadied your nerves.

“Well, actually—“ you began and he shot you a glare, slamming down the wine causing some to splash upon his hands. You decided to change your tone. “I’m just confused! You’re so worried about someone else finding out that you’re sweet to me, discovering you hadn’t really fucked me, and yet you seek out other women the first opportunity you get?! Of course he thinks our marriage is a sham—“

“I didn’t think—“ “Clearly.” “Shut the fuck up!” He shouted at you, though you weren’t afraid. He marched towards you and lowered his voice into a growl. “I didn’t think I could control myself!” He bared his teeth at you like an animal and you stepped back a bit, smelling the rich wine on his breath. You were confused, so you said nothing. “Do you have any idea how hard I tried to get the image of you naked and trembling out of my head?! I never meant to fuck you, woman, I’m no rapist but—!” He cut himself off and breathed heavily as he looked down into your wide eyes. “I didn’t want to spend another night with you and risk hurting you.. I thought to take it out on someone I could pay..” Looking into his eyes you began to feel bad for your judgment. “I didn’t, though, (Y/n)… I haven’t touched another woman since I met you.”

“You could have had me that night.” You told him, remembering how you waited for him on the bed until tears lulled you into sleep.

He shook his head, eyes focused now on your mouth. “I didn’t think you could ever want me.” He scoffed. “Hell, I still don’t think it.”

You looked at his lips now, wanting him more than ever, before you threw your arms around his neck and collided your mouths in a passionate kiss. “I want you, Sandor! I’m so sorry.” He kissed you back with the heat from the night before. “I don’t want to lose you, I’m such a stupid girl!” You spoke between kisses as his hands pulled you into him.

“It’s alright, princess. Everything,” his breath hitched when you kissed just below his jaw. “will be alright.” He pulled you back by your hair and you let out a small moan that caused his eyes to glaze over with lust.

“Please make me feel safe again.” You begged, sliding your hands down his chest. “Please I want you inside me!”

Your words seemed to flip a switch in him and he growled, picking you up by your ass and you struggled to wrap your legs around his waist quick enough. One hand squeezed your ass and the other pulled your hair just right as he slipped his tongue past your teeth. He slammed your back against the wall and you moaned again in surprise, tongue darting out to stroke his. He pulled away, leaving you breathless and begging with your eyes for more contact.

“I’m not holding back this time, girl. You want me, you’ll get me.” He said it like a threat but it only made the heat in your stomach expand and your thighs clench together in excitement.

“Get on with it then.” You challenged with a smirk. He smiled before dropping to his knees and dipping his head under your skirts. Instantly you moaned at the contact of his tongue on your folds. You threw your head back against the wall, but after only a few strokes from his talented mouth, he was up by your face again. You opened your eyes in surprise, only to hear him say confidently, “Yeah, you’re ready for me.”

You glanced down and watched him take his hard cock in hand and stroke it. “As you are for me.” He smiled and bit his lip for a moment in contemplation. “Not here.” He said and you barely had a chance to furrow your brows before he threw you over his shoulder and carried you into the bathroom. He set you down in front of the damaged mirror and turned you around to face it.

“What are you—“ he ripped your dress down your shoulders exposing your breasts and took one in his hand, looking at you through the reflective glass.

“I want you watch.” He said, voice thick with lust.

He raised of your skirts over your backside and you leaned against the sink. You felt your own wetness slide down your thigh and you closed your eyes in embarrassment. The effect this man had on your body was beyond your imagination. Without warning his hand slapped down on your ass and the head of his cock made circles around your entrance. You moaned, leaning back into him and watched him grit his teeth. And then he was inside you and you felt whole again. Tears sprang to your eyes again as he stretched you in this new position.

“Oh don’t give me that. You can take it, I know you can take it.” He teased, going so deep that you felt his balls press against your sex. Your hand reached back his grab his arm and you blinked your tears away, watching his face morph in pleasure. “That’s it, good girl.” He pulled out slowly, only to slam back in. You yelped in surprise, your nails clawing into his wrist. “So good, for me.” He struggled out pulling you back by your breasts and sinking his teeth into your neck. You moaned and reached up with your other hand to pull at his hair.

He began to thrust in and out of you quickly and you couldn’t hold back the moans. You watched his large dominating figure toy with your nipples and suckle at your neck and you felt just as powerful as he looked, watching him be overcome with lust for you. You leaned down, bent over the sink and he stayed upright, his hands on either side of your hips. You moved your hips back against him meeting his thrusts and watched him moan and groan in surprise, watching your two bodies come together. His nails dug into your ass and your head dipped in pleasure and exhaustion. He changed his angle slightly and hit the secret spot inside you that only he seemed to know about and you cried out, clenching around him.

He brought his hand up to your face and wiped the sweat from your cheek before sticking two fingers in your mouth. You licked and suckled and he panted behind you. “Good girl, don’t cum yet. You can cum when I say..” he instructed. Your face scrunched up in need of release but you did your best to obey.

“Please!” You begged finally, legs going completely weak. He slammed into you so roughly that his balls were hitting your cunt every time perfectly and it made you whimper with each thrust. “Go.” He finally breathed out, taking his fingers out of your mouth and grabbing back into your hips as if it were his life line. He was the only thing holding you up now and you shuttered and clenched around him.

“Shit!” He said and you felt something spill into you before he pulled out and released his seed all over your backside. As soon as he pulled out your legs caved and you crumpled onto the floor, still spasming from your orgasm. You rubbed your sex as he had the night before and felt another wave on pleasure wash over you. You wanted more of him but knew that he was spent. Still, as you looked up at his from the floor, looking like a God to you, you couldn’t help but act on your thoughts. He had done it to you after all.

You raised up onto your knees with little struggle and stroked his thighs with your hands, leaving wet kisses leading up to his dripping cock. “What the fuck are you—“ he gasped when you licked a stripe up the underside of his member. He grabbed your hair instinctually and you looked up at him to make sure he was alright with your actions. You flattened your tongue and licked again, tasting your combined fluids for the first time.

You moaned as you continued to clean all the juices off of him, trying to suck him just as you had done to his fingers. He let out something near a whimper and now both his hands were in your hair, encouraging your motions. You watched his chest heave quickly in excitement as you wrapped your mouth around his tip and swirled your tongue. You wanted all of him and tried your best to take him completely in your mouth. You could feel him twitch inside you and felt with your hands how his thighs began to quiver. You relaxed your throat and moved your hands to cover the rest of his member and stroke in tandem with your mouth. His hand pressed hesitantly against your head. “I want you to come again.” You said, popping him out of your mouth for only a second. “I can’t—“

You pressed on, not convinced by the way his cock was growing ever harder in your mouth. You spit and stroked with your hand and moved your mouth to pleasure his balls, his fingers pulling your hair tighter as he moaned “(Y/n).” He stuttered out and when you looked up you realized he was watching it all play out in the mirror. You switched your hands and your mouth and picked up speed. His breathing grew more intense above you and you heard him mutter curse words when you swirled your tongue around his tip again. He looked down at you in shock and tried to control his hips natural urge to thrust. You stroked him fast with your hands and quickly licked the underside of his head until he groaned and tried to pull away, white pouring out of him again. You whined and leaned forward to claim your prize, controlling him with your hands. You licked and swallowed all that you could, overcome with need for him as the man above you came completely undone, swears spilling out of him like a broken dam. Finally you were done and his legs were as weak as yours now. He joined you on the floor, trying to catch his breath as he looked at you with wonder.

“Good boy.” You said, also breathless. He looked at you for another moment in shock, as you struggled to loosen the ties of your dress, sweating in the tight silk. “Where did you learn that?” You smiled softly, shy again reflecting on your actions from only moments ago. “I didn’t learn it from anywhere.” You said easily. “I just wanted to taste you like you tasted me…”

Finally Sandor rolled his eyes at your struggle and picked you up and spun you around on the floor, undoing the laces at your back with ease. You felt his breath on your neck and you tried to slow your own breathing as he pulled your dress down. “I have never…” He started, leaning down to kiss your shoulder. “Thank you..” he settled. Your face raised in surprise and you turned your head to smile at him. You brought your hand up to the unmarred side of his face and held it gently, pressing your forehead against his. “Anna was right… about the look in my eyes. I didn’t want to admit it before.” You turned to him so he would know you were serious. “I love you, Sandor Clegane. I want all of you, all of the time.”

His eyes practically sparkled at your confession, his expression soft. “You don’t have to say it back…” you smiled, reserved in your confession. “I just want you to know it.”

You pulled his face gently into a kiss that you felt encapsulated all your feelings for him and pulled away with a hum. When you opened your eyes and he opened his, you could almost swear you saw tears brewing. You leaned your head against his sweaty chest and listened to his heart beat for a minute. He looked down at you for a while, contemplating what to say. “Come on, princess.” He raised up and left your dress on the floor, pulling you up and carrying you bridal style. You yawned, dropping your head back against his chest. He laid you down gently in bed and crawled to the other side of you. You turned on your side and felt him undo your braid and comb through your hair with his fingers as you closed your eyes contentedly. He may not have said it that night, but you felt more loved by him than ever before.

Unknown to both of you, however, there was an enemy just outside your door. They smiled and retreated into the shadows, wondering exactly how grateful Joffrey would be for the knowledge of this thrilling turn of events.

[catsteeth]

She's My Collar

Sandor "The Hound" Clegane x Baratheon Princess

+:✿ Request ✿:+ 

Request: “This request is for sandor of course!! I am all for angsty, yearning sandor clegane!! My train of thought is all over the place but heres a list of something I hope you could include in the one shot: •hozier level yearning •unrequited love/want •perhaps stark!reader or baratheon!reader •fleeting interactions like something small but it sticks with sandor •“im not a religious man but ill follow her” kinda vibe if that makes any sense!!" CW: MDNI, ANGST, afab reader, alcohol consumption, unrequited love, yearning, misogyny, arranged marriage, violence, joffrey being joffrey, mention of death.  A/N: He’s pathetic and I love it

Word Count: 5K

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

The girl was born a Baratheon, born to Robert Baratheon during a previous marriage. Her mother, born to some wealthy house. But her memory would be lost in time after she died in childbirth. Robert did not speak of her. Cersei despised the mention of her name. So not much was known of her. Though she must’ve been pretty, as the girl born to Robert Baratheon was a girl of beauty. And soon after her mother’s death, Robert married Cersei Lannister. 

Either due to jealousy or embarrassment Cersei would treat the girl with malice, and hostility. But unlike the King's eldest son, the girl was kind and good. 

The boy was born to a man who wanted nothing more than for his sons to be knights of the Seven Kingdoms. His ambitions blinded him, allowing his eldest son Gregor to commit horrid acts. So long as the boy was a knight, none else mattered. The man's youngest son was kind. He was just a boy, no more than six years old. 

The little boy dreamed of being a knight just as his father did. Dreamed on the good deeds he would do in the name of his king and the Seven Kingdoms. Though those dreams would be dashed and discarded once the boy's older brother showed him the cruelty the world is capable of. The cruelty he was capable of. The cruelty the world rewarded him for. 

The boy grew into The Hound, Sandor Clegane the second most feared man in the Seven Kingdoms. The girl grew into a princess, one hated by her stepmother and eldest half brother. But loved by her father, her half siblings, the realm, and by a Hound.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ 

The Hound and the princess grew alongside one another most of his life. He could remember when he and she were much younger. The Lannisters and the Baratheons were traveling across the Stormlands. It was a hard journey, soon food became scarce. Naturally the scraps of whatever the royals did not eat were left to the guards and any other member of the traveling crew. But the princess would offer a young hound the meat from her plate every night.  He always hesitated, but was too hungry to deny her charity. She never held her charitable act over him, never even mentioned it. 

He was not one to appreciate beauty, nor was he one to indulge himself in fantasies of love. But the princess’s beauty was one that haunted Sandor. His whole life he looked at her as though she were the maiden herself. And the princess did not look upon the Hound with grotesque curiosity. Nor did she flaunt his presence to others in a manner of threatening them. No, the princess was kind towards him, kind when she did not have to be. He often found kindness a weakness in people, but in her kindness he found a comfort. 

The girl was different from her father, different from her brother. She was kind, she was honest, and he would follow her as if she was a God.  

He could also remember the first time she bestowed her favor onto him. 

Sandor never feared the tourneys he fought in. He did not fear the joust, he did not fear the competitors. What he did not like was the tradition of asking a noble lady for her favor. 

Sandor never liked this tradition. Never liked having to speak to noble ladies much less ask them to favor him. Not only was it ridiculous to him, the ladies often grimaced at his gesture. But at this tourney, and every tourney after it, he would pick the lady he wished to have picked each time before. 

As he rode his intimidatingly large black ill tempered stallion around the tournament pit. He looked up at all the noble ladies above him, looking down at him. They all sneered at his gaze, wishing not to be picked. The noble men all snickered amongst one another. But there was one person who looked upon him with indifferent eyes. The Baratheon girl’s eyes were not filled with pity, disgust, nor anticipation for the violence he was about to insight for the high lord's entertainment. She simply watched him with her same kind eyes. 

He did not think much of it, it came naturally to him as he stopped his horse in front of the royal family's seating. “I ask the favor of the Princess.” He said begrudgingly. 

The princess rose from her seat with a smile. She grabbed a ring of florals and silk. The flowers were yellow and the silk ribbon was black, the colors of both her house and his. As she approached him, she smiled upon him and placed the favor upon his joust. “I wish you good fortune, Sandor Clegane.” Sandor, he did not know she knew his name. Her voice itself was gentle and hushed, only for him to hear. Her smile was gentle and warm, one that he would have killed to see each night. One that he won the tourney for. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

Once, Joffrey had decided that a servant boy had shot him a momentary disrespectful glance. If he had, it would not have been unwarranted, though who is to say if he even did. Joffrey, sometimes bored, would pretend small disrespectful gestures were made against him. Allowing him to justify any horrid act he found amusement in subjecting any poor soul to. 

“I am sorry, my prince! Please if you would give me another chance-” The servant boy pleaded on his hands and knees. His cheek red from the blow Ser Meryn had given him moments before. 

Sandor never liked being Joffrey's sworn shield. Never liked that blonde cunt at all. Whenever he wanted to feel powerful, wanted to hurt someone weaker than him for no good reason, it bored and irritated him. 

Though it hardly ever embarrassed him, until she stepped into that room.

“Brother stop this!” The Baratheon princess commanded with a look of disgust. Sandor, though he’d not laid a hand on the boy, swallowed hard and stood straighter at her sudden presence. He worried how she’d look at him now, would her kind eyes fade for him?

“Why should I?” Joffrey asked her back with a raised brow.

The girl, bravely scoffed and took a few steps closer to her younger ‘brother’, “Because I commanded you to.” She said with angry eyes, an expression Sandor rarely saw from her. She looked beautiful even when she was angry.

Joffrey narrowed his eyes at her, “Who are you to command anything of me?” he stifled a laugh which only enraged her more. And only enraged Sandor more.

She took another step closer to him. Her hand gently trailed along the extravagantly dressed wooden table. “Your elder sister, the Kings first born-” 

“First born daughter.” Joffrey finished her words for her. “Daughter. You are not heir to anything. I’ll be king one day and you, a princess for a lifetime.” He said laughing as if he were amused by some great jest. “And as your king, I could have anything done to you that I like.” He walked closer to her, with a threatening gaze. “In fact, as heir to the throne, I could do anything I like. I could have Ser Meryn hold you down and-”  And with that the girl's temper got the better of her. She grasped a glass goblet from the table she stood by, and threw it with great force at her brother’s feet. The goblet shattered into a hundred pieces. Bits of it flew and cut Joffrey’s right hand. And some other bits cut Sandor’s cheek, not deeply but enough to bleed. “You cannot do that!” His shrill voice cracked as he grasped hold of bleeding palm.

“Clearly I can.” The girl said with little emotion. It would have made Sandor laugh if he didn’t have to worry about the other royal guards. He worried that they would put their filthy hands on you, or would be foolish enough to draw their swords. 

Though none would. The guards were shocked by the scene. This princess had never done so much as raised her voice, and now she was assaulting their future kind. They had to think of defending one of the King’s children from the other. They stood, unsure of how to act.

Furiously Joffrey shouted, “I’ll tell my mother!” Knowing his father would do nothing but ridicule him.

The princess raised her hand, and slapped the boy across the cheek, “Tell her I did that as well.” She added. 

Her slap was enough to leave a red imprint across the boy's face.

In a fit of anger, the young prince grabbed hold of his sword. Prepared to draw its blade and point it at the princess. Just before Sandor could grab the prince, a different Kingsgaurd stepped between the two royals. “Stop this!” the man commanded. Joffrey let go of the sword's hilt and the girl began to walk away, ready to face whatever punishment her step mother desired. 

With her back turned, and the guards' attentions divided. Joffrey ceased his moment, and drew the thin blade of his sword and readied himself to strike the princess. 

“Boy!” The princess turned back as the Hound’s loud voice boomed out through the dining hall. She was stunned by the sight before her. The prince’s attack was stopped by the Hound ceasing the blade with his bare hand. Blood from his hand trickled down the blade of the sword.

꒰ ୨୧ ─

Soon the two royal children were brought before their father the King.

“How the fuck did any of this happen? You are meant to protect my blood!” King Robert questioned the KingsGuard furiously. 

“Never had to protect a princess from a prince.” Ser Meryn attempted to explain, “Or a prince from a princess.” He said in a lower tone that angered Joffrey.

“Shut up!” King Robert angrily shouted, sick of hearing whatever excuse they had. He sat back in his chair, and huffed loudly. He looked between his two children. “Well done, my girl.” He said in a gruff low tone.

Joffrey looked surprised his father would congratulate her on striking her brother. “But look what she-“ Joffrey began, holding up his cut palm.

Though Robert interrupted him, “How could you ever be a king if you cannot win a fight against a woman?” 

“Father!” Joffrey’s shrill voice shouted, 

“Leave!” Robert shouted back. With an infuriated huff, Joffrey left accompanied with two guards by his side. Though Sandor stayed in the room. “Girl, come ‘ere.” Robert commanded much softer to his daughter, waving his hand, beckoning her to come closer. 

She did as her king commanded. Stepped closer to him with her head lowered. Robert stood before her, and held her chin up with his fingers. “You’re more of a man than your brother.” He said proudly. He meant it as a complement, it was a rare thing to receive as a child of Roberts. With a sigh he patted the girl on the back, “Go on then.” He said softly dismissing her. 

She nodded and took her leave as her father requested. 

As the girl left, Sandor turned to follow her out. Though the King’s voice beckoned out, stopping him in his steps. “Dog.” Sandor stopped, and turned towards the King, “If that yellow haired shit lays a hand on my girl you beat him.” The King commanded. Sandor needed no other instruction. He was quite content to do so. “Understood?” The King pressed.

Sandor nodded, “Aye.” 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

As the Hound walked down the Halls of the keep, he saw the princess walking in the opposite direction. He tried to keep his eyes ahead, not looking at her at all. 

Though his illusion of disinterest did not deter the girl, “I beg pardon, ser.” Her serene voice called out gently. It felt like a cool breeze on a hot day, a relief. 

Sandor looked up at her, hoping she was not speaking to him. If she was, he knew whatever words she spoke to him would haunt his thoughts. As he looked at her, he knew she was speaking to him. He swallowed and then croaked out, “I’m no ser.” 

The Baratheon princess shook her head, “No. You are more true than any knight.” He knew her words would haunt him, but now they would torture him. The girl stepped forward, making him almost flinch, “All the knights in that room were content to let my brother kill me. What you did today-“

The girl began but the Hound interrupted her, knowing if she thanked him, his stomach might turn. “It’s my duty to protect you.” He grumbled, attempting to not look the girl in the eyes. Her beautiful eyes.

“I’d call it brave.” She chimed, making him stop and turn to face her once again. He was about to tell her it was not brave but she continued, “But I know you’d not. You are a hard man with many scars. You needn’t courage, nor praise. But I thank you for what you've done.” 

Fuck.

He was never thanked for doing his duty. Never thanked for anything. He was commanded and he did as he was told. 

Her eyes wandered over the Hound’s face. It made him feel weak, for the first time in a very long time. “I am sorry-” She said, her voice sickeningly sweet. Sandor looked at her with confusion, “Are you hurt?” She asked as she reached her hand towards the cut on his cheek. Her sudden movement made him flinch. 

“No.” He rasped quickly. 

The girl however was scared of the Hound. She continued forward and placed a hand on the Hounds shoulder. Even though her hand was separated from his skin by his thick armor, he still felt a chill run over his body. “Oh but you are-” She began, concerned for him. A feeling that was new for him.

“It’s a scratch.” Sandor interrupted the girl.

She shook her head, “Still, I caused it.” The girl reached into the neckline of her gown, making Sandor almost blush. Such a strange thing, a man who had seen every part of a woman, and every sexual act no matter how deviant in almost every brothel in KingsLanding would blush at such a thing. She pulled out a handkerchief embroidered with her name, “Take this.” She said holding it out to him.

He could not take it. He could not, no matter how badly he wanted to. “Don’t need it-” 

“I command you to take it, as your princess.” The girl said without hesitation. Reluctantly Sandor grabbed the cloth, “I am sorry.” She said once more before continuing on and walking past Sandor. 

She did not know that he would worship that cloth. Keep it in his armor, and keep it in his rooms when he slept. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

When Robert mixed drinking and hunting too often, a boar attacked him. Leaving him so injured he was on a deathbed.

The princess visited her father each day, morning, noon, and night. And when he died, she stayed confined to her chambers. Her only company she’d allow was her Septa. Though the girl was grown enough to be without a Septa, hers was closer to a mother. Since the girl never had one, her septa was there for all her girlhood. So she insisted on keeping around. 

Sandor often checked on the girl, though of course she was not wise to this. 

He would open her door, just a crack. He would listen in just to be sure she was alright. One day when he decided to open her door he heard her and her Septa speaking plainly. 

“Do you think the boar was the Gods doing?” The girl asked as she stared out her window with a stoic and dazed expression.

“Hm?” Her septa responded, looking up from the needlepoint she mindlessly toyed at.

The girl did not look at her septa. Simply continued to stare out her window into nothingness. She paused for a moment, not speaking, “I’d a dream the Stranger came to those woods. He changed into a boar and killed my father for his deviance.” She spoke of such morbid dreams with no emotion attached to it at all.

“How awful.” Her septa gasped, throwing her needle point down onto the table in front of her. “No dear girl I don’t think it was.” She said more gently, “You dream too much.” 

The girl shrugged, still not looking at the old woman. “I suppose I’m trying to find the Gods in everything I do.” 

“Prayer is best for that. Not such morbid dreams.” The old Septa said, picking her needle point back up. 

The girl did not respond for a moment, still simply staring out into nothing. “Do you think they’re real?” She asked softly and without shame. “Do you truly believe it? Never did you doubt it?” She asked, finally looking at the Old Septa.

“They are real.” She asserted sternly, “You believe they aren’t?” 

The girl sighed, not wanting for a lecture, “I know the Gods are a necessity for people. Like food, water. I know they must exist. But I also know they don’t.” She said calmly. Her words stuck with Sandor like a knife driven into his back.

“What a terrible thing to say.” Her septa said shocked.

“Is it?” The girl's eyes narrowed in confusion, “It’s just my thoughts.”

The septa shook her head looking back to her needle point. “You think too much, dear girl.” 

The girl sighed and went back to looking out her window, “Seems I do too much and not enough.”

Without many words at all, this lonely girl would consume Sandor’s every thought. She was smart and kind. Two things Sandor did not think of himself. 

He did not believe in the Gods, because if there were Gods, why did they punish this girl? Perhaps she was his punishment. Perhaps he was hers. Perhaps it was the world that was their punishment. 

This girl should be queen. She’d be a good one, a better one then her cunt brother. She’d be loved by the small folk and no doubt able to keep some kind of peace, even with the war. She’d not let her pride keep the seventh kingdom. If they wanted independence they’d have it. Clearly they could fight well enough on their own. But she was not queen. But she was his. 

How her hair laid against the delicate fabric of her pillow. She was all too precious for his affections. He couldn’t help it really, he felt drawn towards her. Felt a stronger pull towards her than he felt towards anything, even food or water. But he’d never subject her to his presence. 

He simply needed to see her, needed to know she was safe.

She slept sweetly, her breathing though loud was the calmest noise he’d heard. It was like the sounds of waves meeting the sands. 

Sometimes, not often, but sometimes he would fantasize about what it would feel like to sleep beside her. For her to invite him into her bed. To sleep in his arms. He’d feel her heartbeat against his own. He’d smell her scent, and feel her chest rise and fall with each breath. He never slept well, but he believed if she was in his arms, perhaps he could. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

As time went by, the royal family debated what to do with the girl. She was not a Baratheon Lannister, she was the reminder of Robert's first marriage, a reminder that Joffrey was not the true king. 

Sandor stood guard by the small council’s chamber door as he heard the girl’s step mother Cersei say, “She’s as wild as the boar that killed her father. No man would want her, she is too difficult. So give her to the Tyrell’s, a poisoned gift.” 

Overcome with a myriad of emotions, anger, sadness, and grief, Sandor rushed to the girl's chambers. 

Sandor stood behind her door. His hand firmly grasped the door handle, and his forehead rested against the wood of the door.

He stood there for what felt like an eternity. 

He wanted to open the door, ask- no beg you to run away with him. He wanted to tell you all the things he felt for you. Wanted to protect you. 

But he was a second son, a kingsguard, he had no land, and no money. He had nothing to offer you, he didn’t even have a handsome face to bargain with. 

And so, he let the handle of the door go, and he walked down the hall. He considered it mercy. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─

Instead of subjecting that poor girl to his company he decided to subject tavern dwellers to him instead. That night, as her marriage was announced, Sandor sank into his cups.

Though even there he was not protected from talks of her betroval. 

Beside Sandor at another table were four men, 

“Say what you will, I think it’s a perfect match! Loras Tyrell loves a Baratheon!” Some oaf shouted as he slammed his cup onto the table laughing. 

“Aye but she’s missin’ a cock now isn’t she!” A shorter guard shouted out.

Sandor wanted to break the fool's jaws for speaking of her situation with such amusement. “Too bad for Loras, and too bad for all the other men in the realm!” A bald guard added,

The shorter guard raised his cup, “Hear hear. I’ll miss seeing that girl… Miss seeing her bend over to pick flowers.” 

The bald guard nodded in a facade of sadness, “Aye that ass will be missed-”

“No, her pair of tits will be missed!” The fatter guard spoke up.

“Nay her cunt! Ah and what a waste she’ll be giving it to a boy whore.” One of the men said, it was enough for Sandor to slam his cup onto the table in anger. He was trying with all his might to hold onto his restraint.

Though this did not go unnoticed by the men at the table. The oafish one spoke up again, “What of you Clegane?” He said getting closer to the Hound, “You guard that sweet stag so loyally. Surely you’ve thought of what her cunt tastes like-” 

Without another thought, Sandor took the man by the back of his head and slammed it into the table. His nose broke and his teeth cracked. Sandor took his dagger out and stabbed it through the man's hand. His blade took one of the man’s fingers. 

Sandor stood, taking his drink with him, “You speak to me like that again, I’ll take more than a finger.” He warned as he left the tavern in a huff.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

Against his better judgment, that night Sandor checked in on that girl. 

She was with her Septa again. He hoped that she were alone, if she were perhaps in his drunken state he’d have actually begged her to run off with him.

“My father would never have allowed this.” The girl said with a scared and sorrowful waiver of her voice, “Though I suppose it will be a relief to be gone from this place.” She sniffled, “I just don’t want to be forgotten.” 

“You’ll not be forgotten, dear girl.” Her Septa said petting her hair. 

“I suppose if I were to marry anyone in this city it would be him.” She shrugged, “But, I am unsure of how I could please him. You know of his nature. Know of his relationship with my uncle. I care not for any moral righteousness and I hold no judgment of it. But how could I ever make him happy?” She asked desperately, frightened by the prospects of her future. 

Her Septa grasped the girl by her shoulders tightly, “You will make him happy by giving his children royal blood.” 

“And how can I even do that?” The girl put her face into her hands,

“You are familiar with the act, I have explained it-”

The girl interrupted, “I won’t want it.”

Her Septa sighed, “A dreadful duty for some wives. Just lay there. Look at the ceiling and memorize the pattern of the trim. Count the seconds. Anything to let your mind wander away from your body.” She tried her best to comfort the girl, but clearly was doing nothing to help the girl’s fear.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

As Sandor took leave of his duties. He threw off his armor without caution, and nearly ripped his clothing off himself. He was angry, no, he was enraged. 

This girl did not deserve this. She deserved none of the shit those blonde shits put her through. And the words of ‘advice’ given to her by her septa only enraged him more. She should have told her to slip poison in his wine. 

Sandor sat down on his bed in his small clothes with a huff. His weight made the bed creek and bow. He drank from a wineskin as he thought of it all. Soon his anger subsided, replaced with a defeated sorrow. 

Naught could be done for her. This much he knew for certain.

So, after his wineskin ran dry he laid down. Finally allowing his body to rest even though his mind could not.

As he laid there, stripped of his armor and steel. As his sensitive skin laid against the rough material of his bedding he was reminded once more that he, and his body were punished. Punished by both too much, and not enough.

Too much combat, too much drinking, too many tourneys, too many cuts and bruises. So much he endured, and his body was punished for it. He ached and felt pains all over his body all the time. His scars were sensitive and hurt in warm bath water. 

But as he laid there he was again reminded how he had not enough. Not enough gentle touches, enough love and care. Though of course he’d never admit it to anyone. His body felt truly alone in his bed. He wished he could have felt her around him. He’d fucked before, that would not shock anyone. But he’d never made love to anyone. And Gods did he need to. 

He thought of it often, kissing her. He’d do it gently. He’d be gentle with her. She deserved gentleness. He’d kiss her while he held her face in his palms. Kiss her neck, press his lips against her skin and lick where she was most sensitive- wherever those spots were. Gods he wanted to know where they were. 

He felt shameful for thinking this way, he really did. He was no better than those men in that tavern. But, he’d be good to her.

He’d make her his wife, in the eyes of The Seven. He’d build her a home. It wouldn’t be like the one she’d been brought up in. Not a castle, but a house made of stone and wood. He’d give her safety, love. And as his hand began to wonder his punished body he thought of how he’d give her children.

He wished to know how her body would feel in hands. How it would feel to have his hands caress her breasts, the curves of her body, the soft plumpness of her belly. He wondered how it would feel to be inside of her. How his cock would feel to slide in and out of her slick, warm, inviting cunt. He did not know, but he did know it would have felt oh so much better than his calassed hand that was wrapped around his length now. 

Though his actions were vulgar and sexual, he did not think of it as that. He couldn’t think of her for long without feeling the need to have her. To be close to her. To please her. To hold her close and make her feel safe under his touch, to make her feel loved and desired with his body, his hands, and his mouth. 

He thought of what her septa told her. That she’d have to lay down and take it. If she was with him she’d want it, she’d never be forced. Bedding would be a pleasure not a duty.

His groans loudened, and his breathing quickened as he thought of how she’d ask him for it. How gentle her touch would feel on his ruined skin. 

Soon he was awoken from his day dream as the hot splash of his release jolted his mind back to reality. 

He did not have her, and she for all he knew, did not want him. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

And so the Hound was left with nothing to do but sit and watch as the love of his life was preparing to leave his life forever. 

He felt his heart breaking as he escorted the royals to the docks with the rest of the Kingsguard. He felt his eyes water as she began to step onto the dock, and approach the boat that would take her away from him. 

Naught could be done for her. 

So without a word the Hound offered the girl his hand. She took it, gently. He helped her into the boat. Her gaze fell onto him, and Gods it felt warm. He wanted to cut through them all. Wanted to take her off that boat and ride her away on Stranger. He’d do all the things he thought of the night before. Build her a home, keep her safe, and he’d love her. But they didn’t live in that world. 

The princess would marry that Tyrell. She’d have his sons, whether she wanted it or not. And she would never know how much her dog loved her.

The Hound watched as the boat sailed away with the girl he had loved all his life.

It’s the world that’s awful.

Thank you so much for your request! It was so much fun to write!!

Requester: @rhinestonecowboysworld

[justagirlwholikesadam]

Sandor's Secret

Sandor Clegane x Fem! Reader

Summary: Sandor has a secret hidden away from everyone.

A/n: I should be writing The Wolf Among Men but I can't. Once i have an idea, I need to let it out. This is one of them. I do hope you enjoy and remember please comment. I read all the comments and it makes me so happy and gives me the boost to keep writing. ENJOY! - L

WARNING: NFSW, we are fucking, whore, Sandor likes it dirty, Hidden away from everyone, mention of abuse but not from Sandor. Border Credit: @black-dread

Word Count: 3.4K

Sandor has a secret, he’s been having it for a few years now. No one knew about it and he tends to keep it that way but the ones who were too nosy...there were taken care, of course. 

No one will ever take you away from him. 

Sandor has too many enemies in King’s Landing because of his brother’s wicked ways. His brother, Gregor had enemies throughout the seven kingdoms and most of the time Sandor will be the one suffering the consequences. Enemies usually thought that they could fight or hurt Gregor’s little brother to get back at him, but at the end of every fight the enemy is lying cold on the ground with their throat split open or a sword rammed into their stomach. That's why he has hidden you. 

His shift taking care of the king’s bastard ended and he was walking to his small home. He lived a few miles away from King’s Landing. He had declined the housing that the king provided him in the castle. He didn't want it. He liked his privacy, was what he said. Making it home, he walked Stranger to the small stable near the house. Making sure the horse was fed and had fresh water, he shut the stable door before walking to the house. He stood in front of the wooden door and knocked five times and jiggled the knob. This was a sign he came up to make it known it was him outside. 

A few seconds later, the door opened and he was pleased at the sight in front of him. 

He walks in before you can jump in his arm. This was something he had gotten used to and he loves it how you greet him like this after a hard day taking care of the spoiled brat. You didn't mind the blood or the sweat on him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You kissed him on the lips. He puts you down and you immediately start to help him remove his armor. Sandor can smell the stew warming on the fire as he sits on the chair near the dining table. You knelt down in front of him and began to unlace his boots. 

“Don’t gotta-” 

“Hush.” You cut him off with a smile. You had this conversation with him many times before. He told you he didn't expect any special treatment since he bought you. You would shake your head and tell him it’s something you are willing to do just like you're willing to continue to sleep and live with him. 

You were fresh off the boat when you came to King's Landing. No family and no money, there was the only thing to do. Sell your body. Little Finger inspected your body, lifting your arms and touching your breasts. He looked pleased when he grabbed a handful of your ass and sent you to an empty room. That night Little Finger had told the girls, the King's guards would be coming after a successful hunting trip and the whorehouse started to prepare for their paying guests. 

Guards came in and you can hear their laughter and hollering as they picked their woman of the night to keep them warm. The whispers came when you saw the largest and tallest man you have ever seen walk in. You had no idea who this man was but everyone froze for a minute before turning away from him. 

“Looking for a girl.” He told Little Finger. The smaller man gave him a smile and spoke to him in a low tone. You looked down at the ground when you heard the words, fresh and unused. The tall man handed him a few coins. Little Finger called out for you and the ladies gave you a pity look as you walked towards him. 

“This is her, Sandor. Easy on the eyes. She just came in. No one has touched her.” You grew the courage to look up at the tall man called Sandor. You realized why everyone was whispering. Half of his face was disfigured, burn.

“Hello, Sandor.” His brown eyes softened for a moment when you greeted him. 

“Go on, take good care of the prince’s guard.” You nodded and without a single thought you grabbed one of his large hands. You looked up at him when you felt him tensed up but he quickly relaxed when you began to walk with him to your room. You kept ignoring the stares from the girls and the other guards as you continued to hold his hand. You wondered why everyone was making such a big deal about it. There were men and women with facial scars, it was nothing new to you. 

You grew worried as you began to think more about it. What if he was aggressive? Mean? What if it gave him pleasure in harming the woman he slept with? 

Opening the door for him, he continued to stare at you closely. 

“Is something wrong, Ser?” You asked as he walked inside and sat on the edge of the bed after removing his sword. His eyes are still on you as you shut the door.

“I'm not a Ser. Not a knight.” He huffed out as he leaned his sword on the bed frame. “I see.” You told him before slowly walking towards him. “You are new around here? He asked. 

“I am. Is it that obvious?” You said as you kneel down to help him unlace his large boots. 

“You don't know me?” He asked as you began to remove his boot and quickly started working on the other. You shook your head at him and looked up to meet his gaze. 

“I'm sorry, I don't but from what Little Finger said you're the Prince’s guard so you must be very important. I hope I can meet your satisfaction, Sandor. I’m new at bei..” Your words came into a halt when you looked away. 

“Being a whore.” He finished your sentence. You nodded at him as you took his other boot off. 

You were about to stand up when he raised his hand. “Stay down.” You obeyed and looked ahead, you grew red when you were staring between his legs. He spread his legs and you saw the outline of his bulge. He leans forward and his hand goes under your chin, making you look up at his face. He looked so confused when he saw no fear in your eyes.

Insecurity started to brew deep in your chest and you began to thought. Were you not up to his standards? He must have many beautiful women thrown at him because of who he is and who he works for. 

“Sandor, I know I’m new but I swear I will be good. I don't wish to anger Little Finger. I fear he may kick me out.” You blurted out to him. You feel him touch your cheek and your hair. With his index finger under your chin, his thumb begins to trace your bottom lip. He pulled your bottom lip and you opened your mouth letting him put his thick thumb in your mouth. Closing your mouth, you began to suck on his thumb. 

Sandor sat up straight in his seat when you brought him a bowl of stew and a plate of fresh bread. He nodded at thanks to you and began to eat quickly. He was starving and the woman in the kitchen of the castle doesn't know how to make food taste good like you. He looks across the table to see you sitting down with your own bowl. He found himself glad, he never would have thought he would be living with a woman. He thought he would end up alone for the rest of his life. Now he has a beautiful woman living with him, cooking for him, treating him like a person and keeping him warm. 

He found himself thinking about that night, he met you. Sleeping with you was something he never experienced. Perhaps it was because you were so kind to him, you didn't flinch when you stared at his face. You were an eager thing to please and he loved it. Sandor knew his fate was sealed when you kissed him at the doorway the morning after. You didn't have too, he told you but you simply told him. You wanted to and if it was alright to kiss him again. He leaned down to meet you lips and kissed you hard that it left you breathless as he walked out of the whore house. He came back a week later, he couldn't stay away from you for too long. You and your sweet cunt occupied his mind. When he asked for you, Little Finger’s second in command gave him a small frown. 

“Half off. Some animal hit her.” Sandor gave her a face but nodded, giving her the payment. 

He walks to your room and the door is half open. He looked inside of your room, you're sitting on the edge of the bed. You felt his presence and looked at the door. Rage engulfs him completely when he sees you with a black eye and the side of your face is bruised. 

“Sandor.” The way you said his name made snap back into reality and he quickly walked away. 

Sandor finished his bowl before you, he got up to grab the pitcher of ale. He notices it’s almost empty and gets up to refill. He sees you’re about to get up from your seat to do it. 

“It’s fine.” He tells you softly, pushing you back down on your seat. “Finish eating.” He tells you and gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze. 

He turns back to the table when he finishes and refills your cup as well before sitting back down on his seat with a sigh. Today was a hard day, he's tired on his feet. You noticed it when you finished your bowl. You tell him, you’ll heat his bath water. You're about to grab his bowl as well when he grabs your wrist, pulling you towards him gently. He knows he's strong and the last thing he ever wants is to hurt you. He can't hurt you, you're his. He'll die before hurting you. Taking the bowls from your hands, he places it back on the table. 

Sitting on his lap, you wrap an arm around his neck. You're blushing at his gaze. Sandor staring at you was something you always blushed at. He stared intensely and it made you wet. No words need to be said because both of you knew what each other wanted. Cupping his cheek, you feel his scars under your touch. You liked the touch of it since the first time you laid with him and you still loved it even after he took you away from the whorehouse. 

Sandor returned a few minutes later with a maester. He stood at the corner of the room while the maester looked at your eye and your face. You wondered how Sandor knew that Little Finger hadn't even offered to get you looked at. When the maester was gone, Sandor walked towards you. 

“Get your belongings, girl. We are leaving.” 

Sandor is the one to pull you in for a kiss. He tasted like ale and the stew, he was so warm as well. He tightens his hold around you as you open your mouth, his tongue slips inside of your mouth and you can't help but moan. His arm around you, his other hand goes between your legs. He groans as he pushes the hem of your dress up so he can touch your bare skin, your bare cunt. He groans once more in your mouth when he feels your lips, he spreads them with his fingers to touch your clit. You pull away from his lips to cry out as his fat thumb circles around it. He nips and kisses the side of your neck enjoying the whimpering coming from your mouth. 

 “I think about this cunt all the time. I smelt it all day on my mustache.” The thought of your nectar on him all day made you blush. He woke you up this morning at dawn with his head between your legs.

“Sandor.” You whispered his name. He looks at you, waiting for you to continue. 

“Can I suck your cock? Please.” He nods as his eyes twinkled with excitement. You slide down from his lap and kneel between his legs. He stares down at you as your hands unlaced his trousers. Licking your lips when you pull out his cock. It feels heavy and hot in your hand. You bring your other hand to get a better hold of it. 

Sandor starts to breathe heavily as you lick his head, humming as you tasted his salty pre-cum. 

“Fuck.” He whispered under his breath when you spit on his cock, he felt a blob of spit run down his shaft. Your hands are jerking him as you start to suck him off. You moaned as his cock stretches your mouth wide as you try to take him all in. 

Sandor brings a hand behind your head, grasping your hair as you start to gag on his fat cock. 

“Shit-t. Yes, just like that.” He huffs out when feels your hand cupping his balls over the trouser. Sandor throws his head back when his cock reaches the back of your throat. 

His praise only makes you suck him harder, your jaw starts to ache but it’s worth it. Seeing this giant man turn into putty because of your mouth was everything to you. Breathing through your nose you reach all the way to the end. Sandor moans when he feels your nose touch his pubic bone.  

Sandor pulls you away and you gasp when you feel him sliding out. Tongue out, breathing harshly for air and eyes filled with tears, you look up at him. 

“Come here.” He tells you and helps you up. You lean against him as he kisses you. He kisses your cheeks frantically as you try to catch your breath. 

“Bed.” He nods at you as he stands up removing his clothes.

He feels like his nickname, a hound staring at you. His nose is tingling as he watches prey, you undress. You had looked over your shoulder and blushed when you met his face. He’s ready to pounce, ready to sink his teeth on the only good thing he has in his life. 

“Everything okay?” He watched you walk over towards him when you were done. He wanted to purr when he felt your hand rub his stomach all the way up to his chest. You were biting your lips when you touched his thick dark hairs on his body. His chest was hard and you can feel the old heal scars splatter on his chest. 

Sandor just nods. He doesn’t answer. Cat got his tongue when he feels you touch his cock with one hand. You let out a surprise yelp when he grabbed you by the chin making you look up at him as he kissed you. He kissed you so messy and passionately, he nips your lips and consume you. When your legs start to wobble from being on your tippy toes, you pull away from him. He gives a mad huff and pushes you gently on the bed. 

You push yourself to the middle of the bed, opening your arms for him as he gets between your legs. You wince from the sudden movement. Sandor is a big man, his waist is wide. When he’s on you, he completely covers you under his frame. 

“Fuck.” He moans when his lips start to attack your chest. He pinches your nipples making you cry out, he drowns you out with his kisses. 

“Tell me? How? Now?” He says as he licks the valley of your breasts down to your navel making you squeal. He pulls away for you to move. 

“Like the first time.” You mumbled turning around with your ass in the air. You earn yourself a slap on the ass, it makes you quiver. You let out a moan when he gets behind you, a heavy hand on your shoulder while the other rests on your hip. 

“You came all over my cock the first time, remember?” You nod at him, shoving your face in the pillow so he didn’t have to see your blushing face. 

“Milked me dry, girl. Took all my cum deep inside of you.” Sandor says as he brings his hand from your hip down to your ass. He squeezes it, pulling a cheek to the side to see your waiting holes. He’s not surprised when he feels your pussy dripping wet. He growls because of it and cups your mound possessively. A smirk grows on his face when he feels the soft curled hairs on your mound get wet as he spreads your slick all over your mound. 

You cry his name out as he holds you, your wet cunt is throbbing for his cock. 

“Please. Fuck me.” You beg him and his hands goes back to your hip making you arch your back. You feel the hair on his stomach touch your ass as he leans over you, you clenched the pillow under you as you feel the tip of his cock. It’s so hot and big, Sandor’s above you, giving you praises as he splits you open. He even gives your ass a rub when he slowly slides in. 

You gasped when he slid himself to the hilt. You feel him in your tummy, that fat mushroom head is knocking on the door of your cervix and his heavy balls are resting on top of your clit. Sandor holds you down and takes his time so your sweet cunt is used to his size. He feels you clenching around him, he feels you under him moving your ass. 

“Not even going to wait for me.” He tells you when he feels you throwing your ass back softly. 

“It feels so good. I’m so full.” Sandor leans over you making you cry out by how deep he’s getting. He moves the pillow under your chin and he pushes your head to the mattress to the side. 

You gripped the sheets under you as he began to move. Each thrusts you’re crying out, moaning as he fucks you from you behind. You feel your toes curl up when he begins to growl when he grabs your hips and uses you like his personal toy. Moving you up and down on his cock, his hand stays on your face, covering you completely. 

He cages your head behind you as he ruts into you. You’re crying his name and Sandor is loving it because it’s his name you’re calling out, his name coming out those lips he loves so much. He whispers your name behind your head, he kisses the back of your head when he feels your tight cunt pulsing around him. 

“Yes. Yes.” He says as he slips his hand between your legs. “You’re soaked.” 

Sandor helps you get near, he’s about to cum. All day working, stomach filled with delicious stew and cock being milked by you. A perfect ending after a long day. 

“Pleasee.” You cry and Sandor looks down at you, you’re looking over your shoulder and it’s the only time Sandor shows his soft side with you. You only know this side of him. 

“I got you, my pretty girl. Cum for me. Let go.” He tells you before kissing your lips. His fingers rubbing your clit as he fucks you harder. Your mind is fuzzy, your filled to the brim and you can hear him moaning your name on top of you. You can hear skin slapping against one another, his heavy balls slapping your clit making you clench him even harder. He holds you in place when you start to cum on him, on his cock. He feels it, he even lets out a moan of his own. You start to whine, salivating on the sheets when Sandor comes undone. He holds your body, making sure he unloads his cum deep inside of you. 

Sandor watches you as you sleep on his chest, your fingers were in the middle of running through the massive amount of hair on his chest before you knock out completely. He holds you in his arms as he’s deep in thought. He chuckles to himself thinking what would Gregor do if he ever found out how pussy whipped Sandor had become for you. 

He was, he wouldn’t deny it, just count the dead bodies he buried a few miles away. They all had failed to find out what was Sandor’s secret. 

[witchthewriter]

𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭/𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

Also this is 18+ ... we acting like grown ups.

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

𝑨 = 𝑨𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 (𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚’𝒓𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒆𝒙)

Sandor isn’t the softest man, but he does take care of you afterward, even if it’s in his own grumpy way.

If he sees you’re exhausted or sore, he’ll grunt, roll over, and pull you against him. "Tired, are ya? Hmph. Should’ve thought about that before beggin’ me for more." (Yet his rough fingers are already rubbing soothing circles on your back.)

He always stays, even if he doesn’t say much. His way of comforting you is holding you close, resting a heavy arm over you like a shield.

𝑩 = 𝑩𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 (𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒍𝒔𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒏𝒆𝒓’𝒔)

𝑂𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑚𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓: Sandor doesn't exactly...like his body. Well, that's not completely true. He does like how big and strong he is - he takes pride in it. But what he likes the most is his voice and its affect on you. With a few words, he can make you shiver.

𝑂𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢: He adores your thighs. Doesn’t matter if they’re thick, thin, or somewhere in between. He grips them possessively and worships them when he’s between them. ("These legs? Mine.")

𝑪 = 𝑪𝒖𝒎 (𝑨𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒐 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒄𝒖𝒎 𝒃𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚)

He loves finishing in you; it’s primal. Watching it drip out of you? He nearly loses his mind. If you’re on your knees? He grabs your jaw and makes you look at him as he finishes. His voice is low, husky; "Fuck, just like that. Gods, you’re perfect."

𝑫 = 𝑫𝒊𝒓𝒕�� 𝑺𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕 (𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇-𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚, 𝒂 𝒅𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒚 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓𝒔)

Clegane does like to command you. Snarling in his heat, grabbing at your body, telling you what to do.

𝑬 = 𝑬𝒙𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 (𝑯𝒐𝒘 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚? 𝑫𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚'𝒓𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈)

He’s somewhat experienced. Most of his encounters have been rough, quick, and impersonal. But with you? He learns patience. He learns what you like. And gods, when you whimper his name, he learns that he enjoys worshipping you.

𝑭 = 𝑭𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝑷𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 (𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒈𝒐𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒔𝒂𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝑾𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒚 𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒍𝒖𝒅𝒆 𝒂 𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒖𝒂𝒍)

Doggy style, always. He loves gripping your hips, watching your back arch as he fucks into you. But he also loves taking you against a wall, pinning you there, making you feel just how strong he is.

𝑮 = 𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒇𝒚 (𝑨𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒉𝒖𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒔, 𝒆𝒕𝒄)

Sandor is not a smooth talker. He’s gruff, sometimes awkward, but his dry humor sneaks in. "Yer gonna be the death of me," he mutters, staring at you sprawled out beneath him, breathless.

𝑯 = 𝑯𝒂𝒊𝒓 (𝑯𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒍-𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚)

Very hairy; chest, arms, legs. Doesn’t care to shave much and he doesn't touch his pubic hair either.

𝑰 = 𝑰𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒄𝒚 (𝑯𝒐𝒘 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒅𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝒂𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒕…)

Not great with words, but his actions say everything. He grips your hand in the middle of it, presses his forehead to yours, and when he’s feeling particularly soft, he kisses the crown of your head after.

𝑱 = 𝑱𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝑶𝒇𝒇 (𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒃𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏)

If you aren't around ... he obviously does. But he does have patience.

𝑲 = 𝑲𝒊𝒏𝒌 (𝑶𝒏𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒔)

Breeding; he wants to hear you say it. How much you want his pups. That one sentence makes him go completely and utterly feral.

𝑳 = 𝑳𝒐𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 (𝑭𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒐)

Anywhere secluded—he’s not big on risks, but he loves the thrill of taking you somewhere unexpected.

𝑴 = 𝑴𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 (𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒐𝒏, 𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒈𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈)

Watching you submit to him, knowing you trust him. That makes him hunger for you like nothing else.

Grabbing him by the belt, and tugging him closer to you? Mhmm...mhmm

𝑵 = 𝑵𝑶 (𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒏’𝒕 𝒅𝒐, 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏 𝒐𝒇𝒇𝒔)

He would never hurt you. He may be rough, but he’s not cruel. Not to you. Never to you. And he will not share. The thought of another man touching you? He’d rather burn the whole kingdom down.

𝑶 = 𝑶𝒓𝒂𝒍 (𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍, 𝒆𝒕𝒄)

Loves receiving; seeing you on your knees, eyes pleading for his fat cock. But gods does he fucking love giving even more. He pins you down and devours you until you’re a trembling mess.

𝑷 = 𝑷𝒂𝒄𝒆 (𝑨𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉? 𝑺𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒖𝒂𝒍? 𝒆𝒕𝒄.)

Fast and rough most times. He loses himself in the moment, grips your hips, pounds into you like a man possessed. But when he’s feeling softer? Slow, deep thrusts while he watches every expression cross your face.

𝑸 = 𝑸𝒖𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒆 (𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒐𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒏 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒆𝒙, 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒐𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒏, 𝒆𝒕𝒄.)

Not his favorite, but if he’s starving for you? He’ll fuck you up against a tree, growling in your ear, making you keep quiet.

𝑹 = 𝑹𝒊𝒔𝒌 (𝑨𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝒅𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒌𝒔, 𝒆𝒕𝒄.)

Sandor wouldn't mind tying you up, especially when you've been a brat all day. He'd enjoy takng you to the edge, and then leave you there, left crying for more.

He might let you take control; if you can catch him completely off guard.

𝑺 = 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒂 (𝑯𝒐𝒘 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒈𝒐 𝒇𝒐𝒓, 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒅𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒕…)

Insane stamina. He can go for hours if he wants, especially when he’s desperate for you. One round? Never enough.

𝑻 = 𝑻𝒐𝒚 (𝑫𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒕𝒐𝒚𝒔? 𝑫𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎? 𝑶𝒏 𝒂 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒏𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒗𝒆𝒔?)

No, no experience with toys... I mean lets be real here - Westeros doesn't have them? But he wouldn't mind using them if they were created.

𝑼 = 𝑼𝒏𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓 (𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆)

Smirks when you beg, because he knows no matter how much you tease him; he can physically control every move you make. He's that much bigger, taller, stronger.

He wants you near pleading. But as soon as you whimper, he's undone.

𝑽 = 𝑽𝒐𝒍𝒖𝒎𝒆 (𝑯𝒐𝒘 𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒆, 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆)

The noises he makes are fucking filthy. Deep groans, growls, low grunts. And the first time you moaned his name? He growled so deep it made your legs weak.

𝑾 = 𝑾𝒊𝒍𝒅 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒅 (𝑮𝒆𝒕 𝒂 𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒐𝒎 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒊𝒄𝒆)

Loves watching you sleep after. He’ll never admit it, but his eyes soften, his fingers trace your bare skin, he presses his lips to your forehead and takes in your scent.

𝑿 = 𝑿-𝑹𝒂𝒚 (𝑳𝒆𝒕’𝒔 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕’𝒔 𝒈𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒏 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔, 𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔)

Big. Thick. Heavy. Enough to stretch you open, make you feel every inch. And when you think he can't be any bigger, surely he's fully inside you, he pushes further.

𝒀 = 𝒀𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 (𝑯𝒐𝒘 𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒔𝒆𝒙 𝒅𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒆?)

Sandor would never verbally say it but he is constantly yearning for you. He daydreams about your smell, the way you squirm beneath him, grabbing his arms, sucking on his fingers...he basically makes himself hard.

𝒁 = 𝒁𝒁𝒁 (… 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒔)

He stays awake long enough to make sure you're okay, then falls asleep until sunrise.