BIG MASTERLIST :)
welcome to my day dream scenarios i write for fandoms that im currently obsessed with lol
stranger things
game of thrones
Stranger Things
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
I'd rather be in outer space đž

ellievsbear
we're not kids anymore.

#extradirty
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
đȘŒ

â
will byers stan first human second
One Nice Bug Per Day
Misplaced Lens Cap
Xuebing Du

Andulka
trying on a metaphor
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

⣠Chile in a Photography âŁ
$LAYYYTER
seen from United States

seen from France

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from T1
seen from United Kingdom

seen from T1
seen from India
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from France

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from TĂŒrkiye

seen from United States
seen from Singapore

seen from United States

seen from Switzerland
@auxmodi
BIG MASTERLIST :)
welcome to my day dream scenarios i write for fandoms that im currently obsessed with lol
stranger things
game of thrones
twitter is hilarious sometimes LMAOOO sdfghjkhgf no bc for real
tiny gestures
i just imagine robin doing the smallest, cutest things for you and thought abt writing something like this ENJOY
my masterlist
summary: itâs your birthday in the middle of another hawkins nightmare, and youâre exhausted and alone. but robin didn't forget.
word count: 300!
tags: fluffy, subtle romance, robin being robin
hawkins hums outside your window, distant sirens, electrical buzzing, the low, sickening thrum of something not quite right. your body aches in places you didnât know it could, every muscle tight from running, hiding, surviving. you drop onto your bed like gravity finally remembered you exist, staring at the ceiling while your heart slowly stops trying to escape your ribs.
it shouldâve been your birthday.
instead, it was just another night of fear and adrenaline and pretending everything is fine when it very much isnât.
you roll onto your side, tugging the blanket around yourself, when something catches your eye.
an envelope. neatly placed. intentional.
your name is written across the front in familiar, angular handwriting, sharp and unmistakable. your breath stutters before you even open it.
inside, a card. hand-drawn. a crooked little sketch of the starcourt mall, two tiny ice cream cones standing side by side like they belong together.
happy birthday. i thought about doing something meaningful, then overthought it and ended up writing this. i stayed up just to make sure you knew someone was thinking about you at midnight. please donât fall asleep before you read it. ârobin
a quiet laugh escapes you. of course she stayed up. of course she did this.
thereâs another scrap of paper tucked behind it, almost like she tried to talk herself out of including it.
P.S. if youâre reading this after midnight, no youâre not. time is fake. let me have this.
your chest tightens, warmth spreading where the exhaustion had settled. you press the card to your chest, eyes burning just a little.
âthanks, robin,â you murmur to the empty room.
somewhere out there, in the streets of hawkins, you can almost picture her, smirking to herself, knowing youâd read it, knowing it mattered.
STRANGER THINGS MASTERLIST
;) : smutty/nsfw
:) : wholesome
!! : angst/violence
:(: gut wrenching
robin buckley
at the lake ;)
tiny gestures :)
mike wheeler
too late, again (byler) :(
will byers
too late, again (byler) :(
just for a minute
my masterlist
summary: you sneak out to the lake for a break, robin shows up, things get⊠tense. until dustin ruins it.
tags: wlw, teasing, mild nsfw, wholesome, subtle flirting, tension, s5, smoking, fem!reader
word count: 717
you were crouched in the grass just beyond the edge of the hawkins lab grounds, knees drawn close, a cigarette burning low between your fingers. the night pressed in around you. cool, damp, humming faintly with electricity from the building behind you. fluorescent light spilled through the windows in pale streaks, and somewhere inside, voices overlapped in frantic bursts.
maps. charts. chalk scrawled across boards in uneven, panicked lines.
you could hear mike arguing again, his voice cracking with a kind of fear he didnât bother hiding anymore. the wormhole wasnât just some theory anymore. it was real, dangerous. and here you were, crouched in the grass, trying to feel anything other than dread.
you exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl and disappear into the dark.
âfigured Iâd find you out here.â
you didnât look up. robinâs voice always landed soft, like it knew exactly where to stand.
she lowered herself beside you, knees pulled up, arms wrapped loosely around them. close enough that you could feel her warmth, not touching, but present in a way that grounded you more than you wanted to admit.
âneeded some air,â you said. your voice came out steadier than you felt. âall the numbers and theories in there⊠itâs like theyâre trying to solve something that doesnât want to be solved.â
she leaned back on her hands, eyes flicking toward you, the faintest smirk tugging at her lips. âyou look ridiculously calm for someone stuck in all that,â she murmured.
âiâm not calm,â you admitted, voice low. âiâm just holding myself together.â
her mouth curved, something gentle and knowing in the expression. âsurviving, then.â
âbarely.â
then, without a word, her hand came to rest on your upper thigh. warm, steady, firm enough to anchor you, her thumb brushing subtly against the sensitive skin closer to your inner leg. your stomach twisted tight, shivers crawling up your spine, and you caught your breath sharply without meaning to.
âyouâre tense,â she murmured.
you swallowed. âyeah.â
her smirk widened, playful, teasing. âhm. you know,â she said, leaning a fraction closer, shoulder brushing yours, âsometimes a little⊠distraction isnât the worst thing.â
your lips parted, words slipping out before you could second-guess them. âi think I could use one,â you admitted.
âgood,â she murmured, thumb brushing slowly over your leg again, just enough to make your pulse spike. âbecause iâm⊠really good at distractions."
and then, shattering the bubble entirely, a familiar voice screamed across the night.
âHEY! WHY ARE YOU TWO HIDING OUT HERE?!â
you both jumped as dustin came barreling toward you on his bike, nearly eating dirt as he skidded to a stop in the grass. his helmet was crooked, his shoelace was definitely untied, and his walkie-talkie was screaming static like it, too, was panicking.
he jabbed a finger between the two of you, eyes wide like heâd just uncovered a government conspiracy.
âOH MY GODââ he wheezed, scrambling to steady himself, âI KNEW IT. IÂ KNEWÂ YOU TWO WERE DOING SOMETHING WEIRD BACK HERE.â
âdustin,â you groaned, already regretting every life choice that led to this moment.
robin let out a short laugh, half mortified, half amused. âwe were justââ
the walkie crackled loudly in his hand. âHELLO? HELLO? THIS IS DUSTIN HENDERSON REPORTING AâA SITUATIONââ
robin snorted, trying and failing to look serious. âoh my god, henderson, we were literally just talking.â
âYEAH?â he shot back. âbecause from where I was standing, it looked like a very intense, very illegal, very possibly romantic exchange of⊠something.â
he squinted at you both. âand Iâm pretty sure I smelled smoke.â
you opened your mouth to argue, but he was already pacing in a dramatic circle. âunbelievable. first interdimensional monsters, now secret nighttime rendezvous behind government property.â
he pointed between you again. âiâm telling steve. and nancy. and probably the government.â
then he hopped back on his bike, muttering, âcanât leave you two alone for five minutes,â before pedaling off, walkie still squawking nonsense behind him.
the silence settled back in, thick and warm.
robin let out a breathless laugh, rubbing her face. âwow,â she said. âi think he just emotionally arrested us.â
you glanced at her, still catching your breath. âyeah,â you muttered.
ânext time, we pick a better hiding spot.â
her grin returned. slow, knowing. âdefinitely.â
im gonna start writing for stranger things too rn because im so locked into s5!!!!! goddamn (send in requests)
Sandor x reader who is Lyanna and Robert's daughter, please! Could be a she fell first he fell harder situation with smut? Maybe forced marriage trope (ik it's kinda cliché)? Love your work, btw! <33
HELL YEAH sorry its lowkey mainly smut! oops
HI im posting drafts rn xoxo
summary: youâre married off to sandor clegane for the sake of the realm. what begins as an empty union soon ignites tension neither of you expect. slowly, you start liking him and then comes the smut. word count: 2.8k
they never asked you what you wanted.
you were a daughter of rebellion, the child of lyanna stark and robert baratheon, born into a world your parents shattered for the sake of love. but that same love didnât save them. your mother, dead before you could remember her face. your father, broken by grief and anger, raising you with a heavy hand and harsher words.
and now here you were, your life traded away in the name of duty, just like theirs had been.
âitâs for the realm,â your father said. âfor the stability of the crown.â
you sat on a bench off to the side, flanked by your fatherâs guards, your hands trembling in your lap. this was the first youâd heard of the plan. the first youâd heard that you were to be married off like cattle to the hound, robertâs sworn sword.
âyou expect me to wed her, your grace?â sandorâs voice was low, rough but steady.
robert slammed his fist against the arm of the throne. âi donât expect anything, clegane. i command it.â
your heart sank. youâd grown up under your fatherâs shadow, knowing his temper, knowing his penchant for making decisions with little regard for anyone else. but this... this was a new low.
sandorâs jaw clenched, his eyes flicking to you for the briefest moment. then he looked away, his lip curling. âfine,â he muttered. âif thatâs what you want, your grace.â
the words stung. not that you had any illusions about this arrangement, but the sheer lack of interest in his tone made you feel small, insignificant.
robert smirked, satisfied. âgood, the weddingâs in a fortnight.â
and just like that, your fate was sealed.
the wedding passed in a blur of cold stares and empty words.
sandor barely looked at you during the ceremony. his hands, rough and calloused, gripped yours firmly but without warmth. when the septon declared you husband and wife, he kissed you, quick, a brush of lips that left you feeling more alone than ever.
the feast afterward was worse.
sandor drank heavily, his scowl deepening with every passing cup. you sat beside him, silent and stiff, the whispers of the courtiers cutting into you like daggers.
âpoor girl.â âmarried to that.â
he heard them too. you could tell by the way his jaw clenched, his fingers tightening around his goblet until the metal groaned.
but he said nothing.
sandor didnât touch you, not on your wedding night or any night after.
he slept by the fire, his massive frame curled in the chair, leaving the bed cold and empty.
you told yourself you didnât care. you told yourself that this was better, that his distance gave you freedom.
but it wasnât freedom, it was a different kind of cage.
you started watching him.
you noticed the way his jaw clenched when someone spoke out of turn to you, the way his hand hovered near the hilt of his sword when you were in the room. the way he barked at the servants when your meals werenât hot enough or when someone dared to gossip about you.
and gods help you, but you started to care.
it was stupid, really, how your heart skipped when he said your name, rough and gruff but softer than you expected. how your eyes lingered on his hands, scarred and calloused, imagining how they might feel against your skin.
you fell first.
but you never expected him to fall at all.
it was a stormy night when everything changed.
he came back drenched and bloodied, his tunic torn and his knuckles split.
âwhat happened?â you asked, rushing to him.
ânothing,â he muttered, brushing past you.
you followed him to the fire, your hands trembling as you grabbed his arm. âlet me help.â
âi donât need your help,â he snapped, but he didnât pull away.
you cleaned his wounds in silence, your fingers gentle despite the tension in the air. his eyes stayed on you, dark and unreadable, and when you met his gaze, something in him shifted.
âwhy do you care?â he asked, his voice rough.
you froze, your eyes meeting his. âbecause youâre my husband.â
he laughed bitterly. âjust a word.â
âmaybe,â you said softly, âbut it doesnât have to be.â
his breath hitched, and for the first time, his walls cracked.
it wasnât supposed to happen like this.
you were standing too close, the firelight casting shadows on his face. his hand came up, hesitating, before it brushed against your cheek.
âyou shouldnât want this,â he said, his voice tight.
âi do,â you whispered, leaning into his touch.
his eyes searched yours, looking for something, doubt, regret, anything that would stop him, but there was none.
his lips crashed into yours, rough and desperate, his hands tangling in your hair as he pulled you closer. you gasped against his mouth, your fingers gripping his tunic as if to anchor yourself.
âgods, youâre going to ruin me,â he murmured against your lips, his voice raw with need.
the words sent a shiver through you, igniting something primal. you tugged him closer, your breath catching in your throat as his hands began to roam your body, exploring, claiming, as if he were testing the boundaries he had always kept between you.
his hands found the edge of your gown, lifting it slowly. the fabric slid away, leaving you bare. for a moment, sandor just stared, his breath hitching as his gaze swept over you. his usual gruffness softened, replaced by awe, as though he could hardly believe you were real.
his hands brushed down your sides, over the curve of your waist, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. they lingered on your hip before sliding lower to your thigh. his palm settled there, firm yet gentle, and his thumb grazed the soft skin of your inner thigh, sending a rush of heat through you.
your body betrayed you, a slight arch of your back, your legs shifting to give him more room. sandorâs lips curved into the faintest smirk, his hand drifting lower, stopping just short of where you needed him most.
âbeen wantinâ me this whole time, havenât you?â he muttered, his thumb tracing circles on your inner thigh, teasing.
his thumb traced lazy circles against your inner thigh, for a moment, he just stared at you like he was trying to rein himself in.
but restraint was never really sandorâs strength.
with a growl low in his throat, his hands shifted suddenly, gripping you with a force that sent a jolt through your body. before you could even process it, he moved fast, lifting you effortlessly and tossing you onto the bed like you weighed nothing at all.
the impact knocked the breath out of you, leaving you gasping as you bounced slightly on the mattress.
you barely had time to recover before his shadow loomed over you, his knees pressing into the mattress on either side of you. his eyes were darker now and you could feel the tension radiating off him.
your pulse quickened, your body betraying you as you watched him, he made you wait, drawing it out longer than you expected.
âdidnât think youâd come to me this willingly,â he muttered, his rough hands trailing over your skin like he was memorizing every curve, until they found the waistband of your undergarments. roughly, he pulled the fabric down,
âmaybe Iâve wanted this more than you think,â you murmured, the confession slipping out before you could stop it.
sandor smirked and grabbed you again, yanking you by your ankles, dragging you toward the edge of the bed. the cold wood of the frame pressed against the backs of your thighs, and you gasped at the sudden sensation.
before you could adjust, his hands found your legs, spreading them apart. he held your knees up against his chest, leaving you completely exposed under his piercing gaze.
without warning, his fingers slipped between your legs, sliding effortlessly through your wetness. you gasped, a whine escaping your lips as he touched you.
you let out a soft whine, unable to contain it. "sandor," you whispered, barely able to breathe. you couldnât help but watch him, the fabric of his pants tight against the muscles in his legs. your heart pounded in your chest.
âyouâre still all... covered,â you muttered, your voice trembling, your hands reaching for him without thinking.
without a word, he pulled the tunic over his head, throwing it aside. there he stood, bare-chested, muscles thick and heavy from years of battle, scars marking the proof of his survival. your stomach flipped at the sight.
he smirked, his hands moved to his pants, unbuttoning them slowly, almost like he was enjoying how desperate you were. your stomach flipped when you saw how much bigger he was than youâd imagined.
his hand reached for your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. âdonât act like you havenât been lookinâ," he said, voice rough. "youâve been eyeing me since the first day we were shoved into this fuckin' marriage."
you didnât give him a chance to say anything else. without thinking, you grabbed his face, fingers digging into his rough skin as you pulled him closer.
your lips crashed together, urgent and hungry, his stubble scraping your skin, sending heat flooding through you. when his fingers finally slipped between your legs, brushing over your pussy, the sensation made you gasp, your hips jerking involuntarily. he groaned softly, the sound low and guttural, his lips breaking from yours just long enough to catch the way your chest heaved with every shaky breath.
before you could respond, he slid one finger inside you, slow but deliberate, the stretch making your body tense and arch into him. you let out a soft, trembling gasp, the sensation sending a spark through you.
he started to move, pumping his finger in and out, his pace steady, his gaze locked onto yours like he was studying every reaction, every sound you made. his palm brushed against your clit, drawing a soft moan from your lips that made him smirk.
without warning, he added a second finger, stretching you even more. âfeel that?â he murmured, his voice a rough whisper, his lips hovering just over yours.
you gasp, your body arching up against him, the sensation sending a jolt straight through you. you canât help but moan, your hands gripping at the sheets beneath you, desperate for more. âf-fuck.â you whimper, your voice shaking with need.
it was too much, but not enough. you rocked your hips instinctively against his fingers, desperate for more. your body betrayed you, craving him deeper, faster. the heat inside you was almost unbearable.
sandorâs control was slipping. he could barely hold back, with a growl, he pulled his fingers out, making you whimper at the sudden emptiness, and before you could even process, he flipped you onto your stomach.
his hands gripped your hips, fingers digging into your flesh as he pulled you toward him. you felt the hard press of him against you, the weight of him making your breath hitch. your hips wiggled instinctively, seeking more, desperate for the friction.
âplease,â you whispered, your voice shaky with need.
sandor let out a low, guttural growl, his grip on your ass tightened, almost possessively, before he finally gave in to the tension that had been building between you. with a single, forceful motion, he pushed into you.
a sharp gasp tore from your lips as your body tensed, the sudden stretch overwhelming. it was too much all at once, a burn that made your breath catch in your throat, your fingers clawing at the sheets beneath you.
he feels your body tighten around him, and for a moment, he lets you breathe, gives you space to adjust to the stretch. his grip on your hips loosens just a fraction. âtake a breath,â he mutters, his chest heaving with every shallow breath.
youâre still trembling, but the pain begins to subside, replaced by the undeniable ache of needing more. you shift beneath him, moving your hips just slightly, trying to find a rhythm. sandor watches, his eyes dark, and when he sees you start to fuck yourself onto him, he doesnât wait.
"gods," he groans, his own breath ragged, driving into you like heâs trying to break you apart. "fucking tight." he mutters under his breath, barely able to hold back as your body starts to give in, the force of him pushing deeper only makes you gasp harder, your body trembling beneath him.
you start to meet his thrusts, your hips moving with a rhythm you canât control. âmore,â you whisper, the word slipping past your lips before you even realize it, barely audible but laced with raw need.
he grabs a fistful of your hair, tugging your head back harshly, exposing your neck to him as he continues to pound into you. you gasp at the sudden shift, the sharp pull on your scalp making your entire body tense with a mix of pain and pleasure.
the pressure in your stomach is overwhelming, your breath is shallow, unsteady, as you try to catch your bearings, but itâs impossible. every movement he makes, every deep stroke pushes you closer, right to the edge.
âsandor,â you whisper, voice barely recognizable. your chest tightens and you feel yourself getting closer, your body quivering, everything inside you tightening.
his hand is gripping your hip hard enough to leave bruises. âlet go. iâve got you,â he growls, and you feel it, the way his words sink deep into you, the reassurance and the command all at once. itâs all you need to lose yourself.
it hits you, leaving you breathless as pleasure crashes over you, every muscle seizing. your nails dig into the bed, trying to ground yourself, the world blurring as everything becomes too intense to process.
âfuck,â he mutters under his breath, his hand wrapping around around your waist as he pulls you up. âyou feel so fucking good, donât you?â
but sandor doesnât stop, his movements more frantic now, chasing his own release. with a low growl, without warning, his hand moves to your throat, his palm pressing against your neck as his fingers tighten, not enough to hurt, but enough to make your breath hitch. the way he groans your name, low and guttural, makes your entire body shudder.
the tension inside him snaps, a sharp growl rumbling in his chest as he slams into you one final time, burying himself deep. his body stiffens, the shuddering wave of his release crashing through him as he grips you tighter, holding you in place. you feel the heat of him filling you, the sensation making your legs quiver.
youâre left breathless, the room spinning as your trembling body sags against him. his arm stays firm around your waist, keeping you close, as if afraid to let go. his seed flowing down your thighs, a reminder of what just happened, but you canât bring yourself to care.
after a moment, his grip softens, his roughness giving way to something almost tender.
"iâm the lucky one, you know," he murmurs, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. "havinâ you as my wife."
you smile, a soft grin tugging at your lips. you donât need to say anything, just the quiet understanding between you both is enough.
tumblr users love reading. you literally stopped for this post just because it has words in it
this is one of my favorite bits about tumblr
the users seem to actually prefer text posts to anything else, and treat it as a chore to play a video especially with sound
hi hello u are so talented, i love ur stuff!
if u feel like it, could u do a drabble where highborn!reader accidentally calls sandor ser before they leave and he spends the rest of the day thinking about it? pre established, secret relationship style, smexual tension with fluff? he thinks reader is riling him up and readerâs like âno i just actually hold u in rlly high regardâ which makes it worse (better) for him lolol
or just have fun with it! tysm and have a nice week regardless!!! <333333
thanks so much! <3 and oh im eating this scenario up.
my masterlist
summary: a secret meeting in the dead of night turns heated when words slip, and sandor is left struggling to keep his distance. things escalate quickly, but neither of you are backing down now.
word count: 807
a/n; i didnt write for like 3 weeks this feel like ASS im sorry
tags: secret meeting, sexual tension, forbidden romance, flirting
you didnât mean to say it. it just⊠slipped.
the moon was barely hanging in the sky when you met him outside the stables, the cold air biting at your skin, but you didnât care. the secrecy was always a part of it, always had to be. but when you saw him, broad and looming, the flickering torchlight catching his face just right, the words left you before you could stop them.
âser,â you greeted, barely a whisper, your eyes meeting his for a fraction of a second. just enough for him to hear it.
for a split second, he froze. just stood there, like someone had punched him in the gut. his gaze locked on you, hard and sharp.
âser?â his voice was low, rough, and it sent a chill down your spine. âyouâve never called me that.â
you swallowed, your heart racing. it was just an accident, wasnât it? it had slipped out in the heat of the moment, as always, a stupid little title to keep things in line. âi was justâbeing polite,â you said quickly, stepping closer to him, your fingers brushing the edge of his cloak like it was nothing. âyou know, formality and all that.â
he didnât look convinced. in fact, he looked like he was about to bite your head off. âpolite,â he repeated, his voice getting darker, âright.â
you tried to lighten the mood, a soft laugh escaping your lips. âitâs just a title, sandor. it doesnât meanââ
âdoesnât mean what?â he cut you off, his voice rising, rougher now, the words thick with something more than irritation. âyou think youâre foolinâ me?â his gaze never left yours, burning with a quiet fury you hadnât expected.
you stopped yourself, suddenly aware that your words were slipping past your control.Â
god, how did it get this tense so quickly?
âlook,â you started again, voice softer this time. âi didnât mean to make it weird.â
âoh, itâs already fuckinâ weird,â he muttered under his breath, but you could see his fingers twitch like he was fighting the urge to grab you, to do something else entirely.
you couldnât help but smirk, taking another step closer, letting your voice drop lower. âi donât see what the big deal is. itâs just a title.â
he didnât laugh. instead, his eyes darkened even more, and for a second, you thought he might grab you, pull you into him right there in the shadows.
âitâs not about that.â his voice was rough, still carrying that edge, but you could tell he was fighting it. âyou think i donât know what youâre doinâ?â he finally said, his tone low and gruff. âyou think i donât know youâre stirrinâ me up?â
you stepped a little closer to him, your voice a soft whisper now, the words hanging in the air between you like a dare. "sandor, i just actually hold you in really high regard,â you said, trying to ease the tension with a soft smile.
he stared down at you, just a few inches between your faces now, and you almost swore you could hear his pulse racing. he tilted his head slightly, eyes never leaving yours, as if contemplating the words youâd just thrown at him.
his lips pressed into a thin line before one corner twitched up in a reluctant smirk. âfuckinâ hell,â he murmured, shaking his head. âyouâre the kind of trouble I donât walk away from, arenât you?â
your chest tightened, the air thickening between you with every second. Instead of backing away, you let the words hang there, settling between you like a challenge. you took a step closer, voice dropping low, but firm. âi never planned on letting you.â
his breath felt warm against your neck, he was so close now, you could feel the heat from his body and hear the low rumble in his chest as he spoke again.
âyouâd better hope I donât decide to take that as an invitation.â
you knew it was only a matter of time before he snapped, before he gave in to whatever this was.
and damn, you werenât sure if you were ready for it, but you werenât backing down now.
you touch his chest, your fingers curling into the fabric of his tunic as you whisper, âmaybe i want you to see it as an invitation.â
his jaw tightens, and for a moment, all he does is stare, the flicker of a smirk ghosting across his face. âyou really donât know when to quit, do you?â
ânot when it comes to you.â
his grip finds your waist, rough and deliberate, pulling you closer. âyou've no idea what you're askin' forâ he murmurs, and before you can respond, his lips crash against yours, stealing whatever clever retort you thought you had left.
for once, neither of you held back.
miss you queen
HI I MISS YOU TOOO cutie
uni has been killing me but i will be free next week!!!! will start posting again soon :))))))
Iâm so lucky my brain chooses to give me self insert dreams :,)
hi darling, how're you? could I please request shy reader x sandor clegane? he has a soft spot for her and has always been fascinated. maybe a little bit of fluff, angst & smut??? I know you'll do it justice because your writing is just đ€
hi anon !! i'm doing fine thank you for asking!! i've been busy this week so i'm sorry if this took a little long! AND THANKYOUSMUCH i hope you like it! here it is :
sandor clegane x shy! reader drabble
my masterlist
summary: in the cold war room of winterfell, you sit alone, focused on maps while sandor stumbles in, drunk and amused by your quiet presence. his teasing pushes you into a nervous silence, but he canât seem to help himself. the more you shy away, the more he lingers, enjoying the way you make him feel like he's the one stirring things up.
word count: 1.1k
tags: drunk sandor, sexual tension, teasing, unspoken feelings, swearing, slightly suggestive themes
the war room was colder than usual, the fire in the hearth doing little to fight off winterfellâs ever-present chill. you sat at the table, pouring over the map jon had assigned to you. logistics, supplies, troop movements, it all needed to be meticulously planned if they had any hope of surviving the dead. you worked quietly, as always, preferring the calm to the chaos outside.
and then the door creaked open, and you heard his heavy, uneven footsteps.
âstill at it, girl?â sandorâs voice cut through the silence, rough and hoarse, as if heâd been drinking. when you looked up, you could see the flush on his scarred face, eyes bloodshot and unfocused. he dropped into the chair across from you with a grunt, the wood groaning under his weight. a half-empty tankard clutched tightly in one hand.
âwhatâs there to look at? itâs the north. just snow, more snow, and a bunch of frozen arses waiting to get fucking eaten by corpses.â
you bit back a small smile, your focus still on the map. this wasnât new. late nights spent in here, you working, sandor stumbling in with his usual drink in hand, and sitting across from you with that dark humor of his. teasing, pushing you to react.
âyou know,â his voice broke the stillness again, âiâve always liked the quiet.â he leaned back in his chair, creaking under his massive frame, eyes narrowing slightly as he stared off into the room. âlike the dead. they donât whine, donât bicker. they just stand there and rot. might be the only thing i donât fucking hate about them.â
you couldnât stop the small laugh that escaped you, and his eyes sharpened, catching the sound.
âah,â he murmured, his lips pulling into that teasing smirk, âso you do make noise.â he leaned in slightly, his gaze catching yours. âwas starting to think you were mute.â
you looked down at the map quickly, trying to hide the flush that was creeping up your neck. it was always the same, him pushing, poking at you just enough to get a reaction. but it wasnât like you minded. or maybe you did.
"whatâre you so focused on, anyway?â he asked, leaning forward with a creak of the chair. âmarkinâ where to put the chickens?â
you blinked at him, confused. âthe⊠chickens?â
âaye,â he said, deadpan. âgotta feed the army somehow, donât we? iâd fight better if I knew there was a roasted bird waitinâ for me after.â
you bit your lip, trying to suppress a smile. âi donât think thatâs part of the plan.â
âshame,â he said with a mock sigh. âwouldâve been a good plan.â he leaned closer, his voice dropping slightly. âbetter than sittinâ here, thinkinâ about supply routes and waitinâ to freeze to death.â
you shook your head slightly and turned your focus back to the map, hoping he wouldnât see the heat creeping up your neck. he didnât miss it, though.
âah, there it is,â he muttered, a smirk tugging at his scarred lips. âthe little bird can blush.â
his words made your cheeks burn even hotter, and you ducked your head, pretending to study the map with renewed focus. you could feel his eyes on you, heavy and unrelenting, as if he were trying to draw more of a reaction from you.
âyouâre too easy to rile up,â he said, his voice softer now but still teasing. âmost peopleâd snap back by now, but you just sit there. quiet as a bloody mouse.â
the words hung in the air, like he was waiting for you to react, to do something, anything. the tension between you thickened, and you felt your heart beating faster than before.
sandor leaned forward then, his massive body making the chair creak under his weight. the air between you seemed to shrink, the space between your eyes and his electric with tension. his smirk deepened, something predatory in the way he watched you.
âiâm not that easy to rile up,â you said, the words coming out steadier than you expected, a challenge hidden underneath.
âyou think youâre not?â he rasped, low and slurred. âiâll figure you out, girl. donât you worry.â
your breath hitched at the implication, and you looked back down at the map, fingers tracing the edges as though it might steady you.
âiâm just trying to figure out the best supply route,â you murmured, your voice quieter, almost drowned out by the heaviness in the room.
âsupply routes,â he repeated, his tone skeptical, almost mocking. âsure, thatâs what youâre thinkinâ about. nothinâ else?â
you glanced up then, his eyes piercing into yours. the intensity of his stare made your heart race, and the words slipped out before you could stop them.
âwhat else would i be thinking about?â you asked, the question softer than you intended, but it carried something else beneath it.
sandorâs smirk widened, slow and deliberate, like he was savoring the way the tension stretched between you. he leaned forward, his forearms resting on the table, and the space between you closed even further.
âplenty,â he said, his voice dropping even lower, filled with implication. âthings thatâd keep you warmer than that map, iâd wager.â
your breath caught, but this time you didnât look away. his words hung in the air, heavy with implication, but instead of shying away, you tilted your head, meeting his gaze with cautious curiosity. âand what would those things be, sandor?â
his eyebrows lifted slightly, clearly not expecting you to say anything at all, let alone that. the corner of his mouth twitched, the ghost of a smirk. âwhat, now youâve found your tongue?â
you shrugged lightly, though your heart was pounding. âseems fair to ask if youâre going to say things like that.â
he stared at you for a beat, and then a rough laugh escaped him. âyouâre full of surprises, little bird,â he muttered, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair, clearly amused.
and then, with a shift of his weight, he leaned back in his chair, the tension breaking just enough for you to breathe again. but you couldnât ignore the undercurrent of something still crackling in the air between you both, thick and undeniable.
you wondered how long you could keep pretending like you werenât both caught in the same tangled web of words, glances, and unspoken things that lingered in the corners of the room.
it was dangerous, this game, but neither of you seemed willing to back away from it.
i write for myself not for comments but dear god getting comments does so remind me of the joy of writing and sharing something
almost 100 followers???? SO INSANE??? im so happy i just made this acc to post sandor fics and im glad i found the sandor sluts!!đȘđȘđȘđȘđȘ thank u guys for enjoying my fics :))))
me, seeing a fic writer I like in the comments of an random fic
Can you write a one-shot about Jon Snow set in season 8 or afterward, where the reader is a Targaryen and a relative of Daenerys? Make it fluffy and slow burn, please, with some smut!! I love the ones you've written, especially the Jon headcanon! I'm crying because there are barely any fanfics about him đ©
yESS ANON!!! i hear you loud and clear, its set before ep3 s8, sorry if its too long oops (not really sorry)
summary: a targaryen in winterfell, youâre no stranger to war. but when jon snowâs quiet intensity pulls you in, the tension between you both becomes impossible to ignore. tomorrow, the world might fall apart, but for tonight? youâre his. SMUT AT THE END
word count: 2.7k
tags: smut, p in v, needy sex, unspoken tension, battle/war feels, wholesome interactions
the northern winds howled through winterfell, relentless and biting, a constant reminder that the north was a land apart. inside the great hall, the fire crackled and the warmth of the hearth couldnât quite chase away the chill that seeped into your bones. youâd been here long enough now, a targaryen among wolves, but it still felt like winterfell was trying to remind you that you didnât belong.
still, you made yourself useful. you werenât like daenerys, all fire and commands. youâd grown up on the edges of war, your hands more comfortable around a blade than a scepter. you fought, trained, strategized. itâs what earned you some begrudging respect from the northerners. even sansa, sharp as the frost on the castle walls, had softened toward you. sheâd become an unexpected ally, her wit and your determination meshing in a way you hadnât anticipated.
tonight, she sat across from you at the long table, quill in hand as she reviewed plans and lists. you worked on your sword, sharpening the blade with steady movements. the quiet between you was companionable, broken only by the occasional crackle of the fire.
âdo you ever rest?â she asked, her voice soft but teasing.
you smirked, not looking up. ârest wonât help me when the night king gets here. a sharp sword might.â
she rolled her eyes but didnât argue. âyou and jon are more alike than i realized.â
at the mention of his name, your stomach did this annoying little flip. you shrugged, trying to play it cool. âjon is⊠focused. heâs a good leader.â
before she could respond, her gaze shifted past you. âspeaking of jon...â
you turned your head slightly and saw jon standing near the doorway, his dark eyes fixed on you. he didnât look away when you caught him, just gave a small nod before returning to his conversation with davos. your stomach twisted, though you werenât sure if it was nerves or⊠something else.
âheâs always watching you,â sansa murmured, her tone light but her expression curious.
âshut up,â you muttered, focusing back on your blade. but your fingers faltered, the steady rhythm of your sharpening disrupted.
jon was always there. not in an obvious way, he wasnât the type for grand gestures or attention. but youâd notice him lingering on the edges of your vision, a glance in the training yard, a quiet nod in the strategy room. it was infuriatingly subtle, and yet you felt it every time.
one evening, you found yourself in the godswood, seeking a moment of peace. the red leaves of the weirwood swayed gently in the wind, their whispers lost in the frost-bitten air. you leaned against the trunk, your breath visible in the cold, when the sound of boots crunching on snow caught your attention.
âout here alone?â jon said, stepping into view. his voice was low, like he didnât want to disturb the quiet of the godswood.
âyeahâ you replied. âjust⊠thinking.â
jonâs eyes softened slightly as he stepped closer, his breath visible in the cold air. he looked at you for a moment, then at the weirwood, as if trying to understand your thoughts. "the dead?" he asked, his voice quiet.
"everything," you said honestly, your tone heavier now. "the dead. The living. what itâll mean when itâs over... if weâre still here to see it."
his jaw tightened, the faintest flicker of emotion crossing his face. âweâll see it.â
âyou sound certain,â you said, glancing at him.
âi have to be,â he replied. his eyes met yours then, and for a moment, it felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of you. the weight of his gaze was heavy but not unwelcome. it was grounding, in a way.
days blurred together, preparations for battle consuming your every moment. jonâs presence became something constant, even when he didnât speak. you found yourself looking for him in the chaos, your eyes scanning for him like instinct.
one night, after a particularly grueling day, you found yourself in the library. it was empty save for a few flickering candles, the air thick with the scent of old parchment. you sat at a table, a book on northern battle tactics open in front of you, though you werenât really reading it.
the door creaked open, and you glanced up to see jon stepping inside. his hair was messier than usual, and the shadows under his eyes spoke of sleepless nights.
âcanât sleep?â you asked, your voice breaking the quiet.
he shook his head, moving to sit across from you. âmind wonât rest.â
âjoin the club,â you said, gesturing to the book. âi thought this might bore me to sleep, but no luck.â
his lips twitched, the closest thing to a smile youâd seen from him in days. âyouâre too stubborn to let it.â
âsame to youâ you shot back, earning a soft huff of laughter from him. the sound was rare, and you found yourself wanting to hear it again.
for a while, the two of you sat in companionable silence. it wasnât awkward, just⊠quiet. jonâs presence was steady, like the calm before a storm. eventually, he broke the silence.
âdo you miss it?â he asked, his voice low. âthe south?â
you thought about it. dragonstone, the endless sea, the warmth of the sun on your skin. but the memories felt distant, like they belonged to someone else. âsometimes,â you admitted. âbut not as much as i thought i would.â
he nodded, his dark eyes studying you. âthe north suits you.â
âdoes it?â you teased, though your voice came out softer than you intended.
âit does,â he said simply, his gaze steady. there was no teasing in his tone, just quiet certainty.
you stood on the battlements, the cold biting through your cloak, but it wasnât the cold you were feeling. it was everything else, the soldiers, the coming battle, the weight of it all. and then, as always, jonâs presence behind you. quiet, steady.
"it won't be easy" he said, his voice cutting through the silence.
you didnât answer right away, there was nothing to say, you both knew what was coming. it wasnât about words anymore.
finally, you turned slightly, enough to catch the moonlight on his face. his jaw was set, his eyes dark, already on the battlefield in his mind. you didnât know when youâd started to understand him so well, but you did, better than anyone else here and it made everything feel heavier.
âis anything easy?â you finally mutter, your voice quieter than you meant it to be. itâs bitter, but you canât stop it. you donât know how to soften the truth right now.
his eyes meet yours, and itâs like the air shifts, just for a second. something unsaid hangs between you, heavy and unspoken. raw. vulnerable. you want to look away, but you donât.
then, without warning, his hand brushed against yours. just a touch, a test. but it sent something through you, something sharp, undeniable. you froze, your heart racing, as if the world had paused for just a second.
his hand lingers, just for a second, like heâs waiting for you to pull away. but you donât. you stay there, your fingers brushing together, and for the briefest moment, you wonder if he feels it too, the weight of it. the way something inside you shifts at the simple act of contact.
âstay close tomorrow,â he says, his voice barely above a whisper, like heâs afraid of the words. but theyâre out there now, hanging in the air between you, and you both know the unspoken truth. he needs you. and maybe you need him, too.
you donât say anything at first. but then, almost without thinking, the word slips out. âalways.â
itâs too soft. too quiet. but itâs the only thing you can give him right now. a promise, but still, yours.
he doesnât answer right away. instead, he steps back, his gaze lingering for a second longer, like heâs searching for something in your eyes. and then, heâs gone, disappearing into the shadows of the castle, leaving you standing there, your heart still pounding in your chest.
the promise you made hangs heavy in the air, and even though your feet are rooted to the ground, your mind races. tomorrow, you know, everything changes. but for now, itâs the quiet before the storm.
you make your way back to your chambers, the chill of the stone grounding you. your thoughts keep drifting to jon. his eyes, the heat of his touch, the way he looked at you, like you were the only thing that mattered in that moment.
just as youâre about to close the door behind you, you hear it: a soft knock. you freeze, hand still on the knob
you turn the handle, open the door a crack. itâs jon, his silhouette stands there, dark against the dim hallway light. his eyes meet yours, full of something raw, desperate, something you canât escape.
âcouldnât sleep,â he says, voice low and strained, like heâs holding back.
you nod, too overwhelmed for words, the quiet between you both heavy, full of anticipation.
he steps closer, just enough for you to feel the heat of his body. you donât pull away. you donât want to. you arenât sure if this is really happening, or if youâve imagined the way heâs looking at you, like youâre all that matters.
his hand brushes yours, the spark between you instant, impossible to ignore. the air thickens with tension, electric and suffocating, but it feels right. your breath catches.
âjon,â you whisper, like saying his name is the only thing that matters now.
he steps closer, no words needed. his hand cups your face, thumb brushing across your cheek. you wonder how you ever survived this long without him touching you like this.
before you can think, his lips are on yours, urgent, needy, like heâs been holding back forever. you gasp, but he deepens the kiss, pulling you close, his hands finding their way to your waist, drawing you toward him.
you let yourself melt into him, your hands sliding over his chest, feeling the solid muscle beneath his tunic, you could feel the way his body reacted, the way his breath hitched every time you touched him.
you wanted him, now, but you didnât say it out loud. instead, you let your fingers trace the edge of his tunic, pulling it from his body with the slow urgency of someone who couldnât wait anymore, but wanted to savor every second of it.
you pull away just enough to rest your forehead against his, breathless, caught in this moment. âtomorrow,â you say, your voice soft, âit could change everything, we couldâŠâ
he stops you with another kiss, silencing your words. when he pulls back, his eyes are fierce but soft, vulnerable. âtomorrow doesnât matter,â he murmurs. ânot right now, just this, just us.â
his hands grip your waist, pulling you back to him, and in that moment, everything else fades. the war, the fear, the promises of the future, none of it mattered as your lips crashed together.
jonâs hands followed the movement of yours, pushing your nightgown off your shoulders, leaving your skin bare beneath his touch. his lips trailed down your neck, and you shivered at the feel of him, the heat of his breath against your skin.
when he finally got the gown off, exposing you completely to him, his breath hitched, and for a moment, he just stared at you, his eyes dark, filled with something primal.
his fingers grazed the curve of your waist, your hips, his touch light but leaving a trail of heat behind. when his hands brushed your breasts, his thumb running over your nipple, you couldnât help but gasp, the feeling radiating through you like lightning. jon froze for a second, eyes wide, like he couldnât believe he had made you react that way.
"gods," he muttered, voice rough as he traced the curve of your body with his eyes. "you're beautiful."
before you could respond, he was pushing you backward, guiding you toward the table. you caught the edge with your hands, the cool wood contrasting with the heat building between you.
jonâs hands slid down to your hips as he bent you over the table. the position made your pulse quicken, a thrill running through you at the sheer dominance in his actions.
his hands pressed against your back, bending you slightly as he took a moment to adjust his position.
you felt him shift behind you, heard the rustling of fabric as he finally freed himself from his trousers. his cock suddenly pressed against you, teasing, making your breath catch.
âshit,â you whisper, your hands gripping the edge of the table in front of you as you feel the tip of his cock press rub against your entrance.
one hand gripped your hip, holding you in place, while the other found your shoulder, he entered you slowly, inch by inch, as if testing the waters, and you couldnât help but bite your lip at the stretch, the fullness. jon groaned, a deep, guttural sound, his face tight with concentration.
âi've wanted you like this,â he muttered, his voice low, almost strained. âfor so fucking long.â
you pushed back against him, urging him to move. his pace remained agonizingly slow, his thrusts deep, controlled, his hands holding you firmly in place.
with each slow stroke, your body grew tighter, more desperate, the tension in your stomach building until it felt like you might break. jon was relentless, his movements never wavering, only deepening as the seconds stretched out into eternity.
âfuck, jon,â you gasped, your body arching into him as your own hands gripped the edge of the table, nails digging into the wood. "f-faster." you could feel him pulse inside you, the friction driving you higher.
youâre both too fucking needy for this to be slow. his thrusts become harder, faster, each one more desperate than the last. the sound of skin on skin fills your chamber, and you canât stop yourself from meeting every push, every pull, your body craving the release thatâs building.
you can barely form a coherent sentence, the only thing you can do is hold onto the table, each thrust making you just forwards. everything is too much, but in the best way. "f-fuck" you gasp, "donât stop."
he doesnât stop. ofcourse he doesnât.
âyouâre killing me,â jon growls, his hand slides down your back, fingers digging into your skin, and you know heâs holding you there, keeping you in place for himself.
you donât answer, canât answer, just a breathless moan slips past your lips as you feel the first wave of your orgasm starting to crash over you, the way your body tightens around him, the way heâs fucking you through it.
"gods" he whimpers, the words barely making it past his lips as he forces you to take all of him.
his hands are tight on your hips, pulling you into him, every inch of him is buried deep, and you can feel him in places you didnât even know existed, making you gasp with every move, every shift.
his breath was ragged now, his groans a constant hum in your ear as his rhythm faltered, his control slipping. âi canâtâgods, i canât stop now.â his voice was strained, desperate, and you knew he was at the edge.
then, with a final, brutal thrust, he snapped. his whole body jerked above you, shaking as his release hit. you could feel the heat of his seed inside you, leaving you breathless and trembling beneath him.
you could feel the slickness between your legs, the evidence of what had just happened, and though it should have felt overwhelming, it only deepened the sense of connection between you two.
jonâs breath was steady against your neck, and after a moment, you heard him chuckle softly.
jonâs fingers traced light circles on your back as he pressed a kiss to your neck. âguess I was wrong then,â he teased, his lips curving into a smile. âthe dragonâs not so bad after all.â
âjust remember,â you added, your voice low as you turned your head to meet his gaze, âtargaryens donât take kindly to being underestimated.â
jonâs chuckled at your words, the corners of his mouth twitching with a hint of something close to respect. âiâll keep that in mind.â
I need your writing injected into my veins!!!! It's so freaking good đ
kisses you on the lips
HEARING THIS SHIT IS LIKE DRUGS TO ME i swear, thank you so much anon I WILL BE WRITING MORE!!