Sandor Clegane Masterlist
Y/N Stark x Sandor Clegane series
Fucked (part 1)
I need you (part 2, smut)
Love (part 3, final part?)
Oneshots
Protected
Jealous
Nightmare (smut)
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❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
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todays bird

JBB: An Artblog!
Jules of Nature
occasionally subtle

tannertan36
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

oozey mess

Origami Around
noise dept.
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sheepfilms
art blog(derogatory)
Not today Justin
Peter Solarz
Claire Keane

if i look back, i am lost
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

seen from United States

seen from Singapore
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seen from Malaysia
seen from France
seen from Mexico

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@ottosuricatoblog
Sandor Clegane Masterlist
Y/N Stark x Sandor Clegane series
Fucked (part 1)
I need you (part 2, smut)
Love (part 3, final part?)
Oneshots
Protected
Jealous
Nightmare (smut)
PROMPTS LIST FOR REQUESTS HERE
Favourite person you have met on Tumblr? Country you want to visit the most? One thing you love about yourself?
I actually can't just choose one. I don't know what I would do without @chibsytelford, @rebel-without-cause-x, @starrynite7114, @aquamento, @sonsofeorl and @ottosuricato. Of course, I have many friends here, but they are my favorite people ❤✨
I would really LOVE to visit México. I have a lot of friends and family there, mainly in DF, but I would really like to visit every single city. I'm used to celebrate some mexican traditions at home, and I know that one day, I will go to.
Believe me, there's nothing I like about myself. Sounds bad, but it's not. I have a lot of defects, and I try every day to be better, working on them. Inside my virtues, there's always a defect. So, that's it 😂
🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 you're the best!!!!
When Doves Cry - S. Clegane: Chapter One
Pairing: Sandor Clegane x f!Eldest Stark Reader Summary: Your loyalty to your family is unwavering, a steadfast commitment that defines your character. However, navigating the turbulent waters of newfound, intense emotions for a man devoted to a family starkly opposed to your own will challenge the foundations of this loyalty. As you stand on the precipice of conflicting allegiances, the question looms: What sacrifices would you make in the name of love? Rating: 18+ WC: 4.4k Chapter Warnings: smut, "we just met but I want to fuck you", kinda ooc Sandor, language, story loosely follows the timeline of S1, semi-public sex- very risky, rough sex, reader probably cares more about what's happening then Sandor does, hickeys in hidden places, unprotected piv sex, angst, "we just fucked and now we're practically going to be living together".
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The great hall of Winterfell buzzed with activity as the Stark family prepared for the arrival of King Robert Baratheon and his entourage. You were the eldest daughter of Ned and Catelyn Stark, so you knew all eyes were going to be on you; a young woman of noble birth, at an age desperate to be married well. You moved gracefully through the throngs of people, your eyes keenly observing the bustling preparations. You wore a simple but elegant gown, the Stark colors proudly displayed.
A little nervous, to be expected. Nothing a little ride couldn’t fix.
On the way back, you noticed that winter truly had begun its descent upon the land, the air frigid and the wind mighty. The crunch of snow beneath the hooves of your horse echoed through the trees as you headed back towards Winterfell. You were eager to greet the royal party.
As you approached the stable, you hear the unmistakable clatter of hooves against the cobblestone. The royal retinue had arrived. Intrigued, you watch closely to see the beautiful ocean of golden banners, curiosity piqued by the impending arrival of the king.
The gate swung open, revealing the group of visitors. Your gaze was drawn to a towering figure at the back of the party. A man of imposing stature, his face hidden beneath a twisted helm, and clad in dark, rugged armor. He radiated an air of danger that made the other courtiers instinctively give him a wide berth.
Still mounted, you took a step back, closer to your direwolf. You watched him with a curious gaze. As he sat there, a silent sentinel also mounted upon his horse, you felt a shiver run down your spine as his gaze met your own.
"Who's that?" you inquired, directing the question to a nearby stable boy.
The boy hesitated before answering, "That's the Hound, my Lady. Sandor Clegane, the King's dog."
You clicked your tongue, “King’s dog, huh?” a small laugh, “Interesting title.”
You watched as the man dismounted, your eyes narrowing with interest. He moved with a certain controlled grace, his movements deliberate and purposeful. An unexpected shiver ran down your spine as you observed the mysterious figure. There was something about him that defied the norms of courtly behavior, an untamed quality that set him apart. In a sea of polished knights and well-mannered courtiers, he was a dark anomaly.
You couldn't help but be intrigued by the mysterious figure. Your eyes lingered on him, studying the scars that marred his face. There was a hardness in his gaze that suggested a life of brutality, yet you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the man beneath the armor.
Your eyes met for the briefest moment, a flicker of connection that sent a jolt through your spine. Quickly averting her gaze, you tried ignoring the heart pounding feeling in her chest. The Hound continued on, seemingly indifferent to the glances and whispers that followed him. After his eyes left yours, you couldn’t help but watch his every move again. That man, Sandor Clegane, he was beautiful.
And he was coming right towards you.
As you dismounted her horse, the Hound's attention shifted briefly to her. You felt a twinge of discomfort under his scrutinizing gaze, but being the strong-minded Stark you were, held your ground. Your direwolf, ever vigilant, growled softly at the Hound, who merely raised an eyebrow in response.
"You a Stark girl?" he grumbled, his voice rough and devoid of warmth.
You nodded, a defiant yet humorous spark in your eyes. "Well I stand before you wearing Stark colors. I’d hope so. (Y/N) Stark. And you are?"
"The Hound. Sandor Clegane," he replied with a hint of mockery. "King's dog, they call me."
You arched an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "A dog, you say?” In a bold move, your eyes slowly moved up and down, taking in a good look of his entire figure. “I don’t see a collar.”
His lips twitched, almost forming a reluctant smirk. It was a rare sight, a crack in his stoic facade.
“Well, dog, I hope you’re house-trained.”
Your exchange was brief, but in that moment, something shifted. A connection, unspoken and unacknowledged, lingered between the two of you. The Hound turned away, disappearing into the crowd, leaving you with a lingering sense of curiosity and an unsettling awareness that even though you’d just met that man—you wanted more of him.
Later that night, the great hall of Winterfell resounded with the clinking of goblets and the boisterous laughter of the guests. You found yourself drawn into the festivities, attempting to put aside the enigmatic encounter with Sandor Clegane. The feast in honor of King Robert Baratheon's visit was in full swing, and the Stark family showed they knew how to put together an extravagant feast.
As the night progressed, you caught glimpses of him across the crowded hall. His presence was ominous, and whispers of him still followed like shadows. Your curiosity mingled with a sense of unease, yet you couldn't shake the feeling that your brief exchange held a significance you couldn't fully comprehend.
You continued to mingle among the noble guests, trying to keep your eyes away from Sandor. But to no avail, you watched in-between pointless conversations as he stood at the outskirts of the celebration. His gaze fixed on the revelry with a mix of disdain and disinterest and you felt a peculiar pull, as if the currents of destiny were nudging you toward the enigmatic man.
An unexpected voice interrupted you in the middle of your thoughts. "(Y/N), you seem quite taken with the Hound," spoke your younger sister, Sansa Stark, her blue eyes glinting mischievously.
You raised an eyebrow and snorted out a laughter, attempting to conceal the obvious interest written in your eyes. "Taken? No, my dear Sansa. Merely curious. He is a formidable figure, after all." You put your arm between hers, nudging her body in the direction of the man who looked quite bored. “You know what mother always tells us. We are wolves, we must be the ones to pounce before the others.”
Sansa's gaze flitted between you and the man in question, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Well, just be careful. Rumors say he has a fearsome temper."
You chuckled at her, feigning nonchalance. "Rumors are just that—rumors. I'm sure there's more to him than meets the eye."
“Rumor has it that I think you’re full of rubbish.” She replied, a playful laugh falling from her lips.
“Oh Sansa, run off. Father needs you.” You nodded in the direction of your father, clearly enjoying his conversation with King Robert and his son, Joffrey.
Poor Sansa, you thought, that boy looks like nothing but trouble.
As the night wore on, you couldn't shake the feeling that their paths were destined to cross again. And fate intervened sooner than expected. The King's squire, Lancel Lannister, approached you with a cup of wine.
"From the Hound," he declared, offering you the goblet.
You hesitated, fingers brushing against the cold metal. You glanced in the direction of the Hound, who merely nodded in acknowledgment. Taking the wine, you nodded back with a small smile, and Lancel retreated into the shadows.
As you sipped the wine, the rich flavor lingered on her lips. As you found yourself drawn once more Sandor, you wondered what he’d taste like lingering on your lips. As your eyes met, a silent understanding passed between the two of you—a forming connection, born from the flames of need for passion.
Eventually, after a few more cups of wine, you found yourself standing at the edge of the hall, watching the dancers twirl to the music. A deep voice behind you interrupted your thoughts. "You fancy dancing, Lady (Y/N)?"
You turned to find Sandor standing there, his burned face impassive. "I can dance if the occasion calls for it," you replied, your eyes meeting his with something you couldn’t describe, but you could definitely feel it.
A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "She’s a wolf with claws, then."
You were undeterred by his nature, offering a playful smile. "You sure seem to enjoy lurking in the shadows, Ser Clegane. Is that where you find your solace?"
He grunted, a low sound that could be mistaken for a chuckle. "Solace is overrated. I prefer the edge of the firelight."
You tilted your head, curls cascading over your shoulder. "A mysterious man, I see. Are you afraid the light will reveal too much?"
Sandor's lips twitched into a half-smile, a rare sight on his scarred face. "Some things are better left in the dark."
Leaning in, you whispered, "But not everything. Some things are meant to be uncovered." You caught the glint in his eye, a flicker of something lustful beneath the rough exterior.
The conversation continued, the banter growing more flirtatious with each exchange. You teased and prodded, finding amusement in the unexpected connection you felt with the man. He, in turn, responded with a gruff charm that surprised even himself.
Eventually, he left you with short instructions, “Broken tower.”
At last, you found yourself in the quiet solitude with the idea of getting to know Sandor better. In a way you’d known nobody before. The anticipation of his presence weighed on you, and a flutter of nerves danced in your stomach. The air was charged with a different kind of energy, one that held the promise of a connection that transcended the boundaries of right and wrong.
A soft knock on the door signaled his arrival, and when you opened it, there he stood, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of intensity and vulnerability. The flickering candlelight cast a warm glow over his scarred face, softening the harsh lines that had witnessed battles and hardships.
"I thought we might continue our conversation," he rumbled, his voice carrying a note of sincerity that caught you off guard, especially when he roughly grabbed your cheeks in his hands and pressed his lips against yours. Your heart raced as you welcomed his tongue inside your mouth, trying your best to close the door.
The room pulsed with palpable tension, igniting like a fervent flame, as your hands yearned to make contact with him in every possible manner. The warmth emanating from your skin created a contrast against the cold, unyielding metal of his armor. Restless and eager, your hands became a silent testament to the unspoken urgency of your desire.
Sandor's gaze remained fixed on yours throughout, ablaze with a passion you had long yearned for—a fervor you couldn't fathom experiencing with the man standing before you.
Your teeth sank into his lower lip, coaxing a resonant, primal groan from him, prompting his reluctant withdrawal. "She's a wolf with claws and teeth," he chuckled, wiping away the trace amount of blood that had emerged from the newfound wound.
Rather than offering a response, your body found itself pressed against the wall, his calloused hand gently mitigating the impact on your head. "Couldn’t very well carry our conversation with your lips against mine," you remarked at last, tilting your head to the side as his lips met the tender skin of your neck.
He stopped for a moment- another faint chuckle coming before continuing, “aye, that was the point.”
Sandor persisted in tracing kisses along your neck, momentarily pausing only to leave subtle bites in places known only to him. In this moment, he recognized that he was on the brink of losing all restraint, evident in the autonomy of his hands, which seemed to explore every inch of your body with a desire you willingly indulged. Oh, how willingly you would allow him to continue.
“Sandor, please, I need-” you were cut off mid sentence by him grabbing your right leg and wrapping it around his waist. The cold metal hid his hardening cock—the feeling of it against your warm skin made you anticipate his every move. “If we’re g-gonna do this.. we need to hurry..”
“You need to keep quiet.”
His lips descended, caressing the delicate fabric of your dress. His fingers deftly maneuvered to release you from its confines with a sense of urgency; there was an animalistic quality to his actions—rough fingers, accompanied by soft growls, responding to the rhythmic dance of your body against his determined hold. A silent plea resonated, a tacit acknowledgment that you craved everything he was willing to bestow upon you.
A hushed stillness enveloped the space for the next few moments, broken only when he skillfully lowered your dress, unveiling your tits. Sandor's fingers delicately traced the contours of each nipple, his unwavering gaze captivated by their response. With each circular motion, they seemed to intensify in firmness, a testament to the heightened sensitivity your body exhibited in mere minutes of his touch. He reveled in the allure of your immediate responsiveness.
If anyone were to walk in they’d see such a pornographic sight: the beloved, eldest daughter of Ned Stark, nipples hard and swollen, dress hiked up to her waist while the Prince’s hound let her hump his armor. By this point, you'd wager that the burgeoning dampness in your silk panties had left its mark on the cool silver surface, a silent proclamation of your possession of the man. Yet, the mutual understanding between you both acknowledged that any unsuspecting onlooker venturing in would be treated to an undeniable spectacle.
If this were your first time, perhaps a hint of nervousness would have crept in, particularly as you sensed his hands gently sliding your panties down to your knees. Yet, even in such a moment, his adept handling imparted a profound sense of security. This man, bound by oath to safeguard his King, was now silently pledging to protect you with equal devotion.
But, fortunately, nothing could protect your body from what Sandor was about to do.
Seating himself on the ground after loosening his leather pants, he then drew you down to join him. As you settled onto his lap, he playfully grazed against your entrance with his cock, all the while continuing his descent of kisses along your neck. With a stern tone, he uttered, "My Lady, speak the word and I’ll stop."
Gazing into his eyes, you found them ablaze with desire, mirroring the fervor you sensed within yourself. His captivating eyes, the unsteady cadence of his breath, and the formidable frame enveloping you in its embrace—you desired nothing else in that moment.
“I don’t think such words exist.” You whispered.
At last, your lips met again with an intense passion, and as he slowly pushed his cock inside, his kiss carried a raw urgency that you eagerly reciprocated. Midway, a soft moan escaped as an indescribable sensation stirred in your stomach. Gazing down, your eyes caught a glimpse of your warmth enveloping him voraciously—a hunger akin to a famished wolf.
Sandor wasn’t even in completely.
His hips moved gradually against yours, a measured rhythm aiming to acquaint you with his full length. Pressed chest to chest, he sensed the rapid cadence of your intense heartbeat, but as his fingers traced small circles on your thighs, he felt it gradually subside. Sandor understood that in due course, he would sense the resurgence of your elevated heart rate, particularly when he ultimately filled you entirely. The connection was palpable, your pelvis intimately aligned with his.
He sustained a consistent rhythm, guiding your hips in a reciprocal dance of thrusts. The entire encounter was swift and purposeful, each thrust delivered with a sense of urgency, as if time were a constraint. In a sense, it was, considering the uncertainty of someone stumbling upon you at any moment.
Yet, beneath it all, an undercurrent of passion prevailed. The symphony of your gasps harmonized with his occasional groans, creating a melodic atmosphere. Your hand remained anchored on the back of Sandor's neck like a steadying handlebar, providing support as his thrusts intensified. It felt fitting that this was how Sandor Clegane fucked his women—clothed, he embodied roughness and intensity; how could one become tender and affectionate when undressed?
The familiar sensation of tightness formed in your stomach, and truth be told, there was a hint of disappointment in how swiftly the entire encounter unfolded. Yet, the lack of surprise lingered; he had proven to be the quickest in getting you into bed. The inexplicable allure he held over you remained a mystery, but in this moment, such thoughts were irrelevant—especially when you stood on the brink of blissful release.
Suddenly, a surge of sensation swept over you as his hand enveloped your throat. Sandor felt the subtle tightening of your walls around his cock, a telltale sign that you were teetering on the edge. He sought to bring you to that exquisite pleasure. Amidst the crescendo of your growing moans reverberating against the tower walls, his grip tightened, not to stifle your ecstasy but to cloak the sounds and shield the secrecy of your rendezvous.
As tears cascaded down your cheeks in response to the overwhelming pleasure, he spoke, "That's it, (Y/N), that's it…" It was as if he momentarily shed his usual demeanor, softening as he observed you in your vulnerable state. However, amidst the whirlwind that had your head spinning and everything fading to white, the only thing you could truly register was the profound impact of your orgasm.
Sandor wasn't far behind, withdrawing as you caught your breath, leaving your back adorned in ribbons of white cum. A soft whine escaped you as you felt it trickle down, accompanied by his heightened groans that surpassed those from when he was inside you. The aftermath left both of you in a hushed stillness, contemplating who would break the silence first. It was him, rising to his feet after moving your body off his lap and discreetly tucking his softening cock back into his trousers. He handed you a handkerchief, a gesture to cleanse the now drying traces from your back.
You wondered whether he would abandon you in the tower, retreat to his quarters, or perhaps rejoin the now dwindling party. To your surprise, he didn't. Instead, he extended his hand, helping you rise and assisting in the process of reclothing yourself. It was a considerate gesture, you acknowledged, yet it only added to the palpable tension that seemed to be mounting. You were certain Sandor could discern it in your expression—the subtle frown betraying your disappointment that the encounter had concluded. As you gazed at him, you searched for any sign of shared sentiment, any indication that he, too, would miss the intimacy you had just shared. Regrettably, you found nothing.
The air outside the tower was crisp, and the moon cast a silvery glow across the surroundings as Sandor led you down the winding path to your quarters. The atmosphere was thick with unspoken words, the tension between you two lingering even in the cool night air.
The journey was silent, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of leaves and the soft echo of your footsteps on the cobblestone path. Sandor's hand, firm yet strangely comforting, guided you through the dimly lit passages of the castle.
As you approached your quarters, a mix of conflicting emotions washed over you. There was a longing for something more, a desire to bridge the gap between the intimacy you'd just shared and the reality of the castle walls around you. The silence between you spoke volumes, a tacit acknowledgment of the uncharted territory you both found yourselves in.
Upon reaching your door, Sandor released your hand, and for a moment, it felt like a sudden loss. He stood there, his expression unreadable in the muted moonlight. You searched his eyes for any sign of what lay beneath the surface, but they remained enigmatic.
"Goodnight, Lady (Y/N)," Sandor gruffly uttered, breaking the silence. The words hung in the air, a simple farewell laden with unspoken complexities.
"Goodnight, Sandor Clegane," you replied, your voice soft and tinged with a hint of something unsaid. As you entered your quarters, the door closing behind you, the weight of the night settled in.
Alone in the hushed sanctuary of your quarters, the echoes of the night's encounter reverberated through the room. The emotions, like an unruly storm, swirled within you, and the dam holding them back began to crack.
As you stood there, the weight of what had transpired bore down on you. The tears, uninvited, welled up in your eyes and spilled over, tracing the contours of your cheeks. It wasn't just the physical intimacy that left you shaken; it was the tangled web of emotions that accompanied it.
Regret gnawed at you, and confusion settled in like a heavy fog. What had led you to this precipice, and where did you stand now? The vulnerability of the moment washed over you, leaving you adrift in a sea of conflicting emotions.
Fumbling with the fastenings of your dress, you sought solace in the act of undressing, as if shedding the layers would somehow alleviate the burden you carried. The moonlight filtering through the window cast shadows across the room, emphasizing the isolation you felt.
Laying on the bed, your tears soaked into the fabric beneath you, a silent lament for the choices made and the uncharted territories navigated. The intimacy, though a fleeting connection, left a profound impact, and the aftermath left you grappling with a whirlwind of emotions.
As the night wore on, the tears eventually subsided, leaving behind a quiet ache and a lingering question of what the dawn would bring. In the solace of your room, you found yourself wrestling with the complexities of desire, regret, and the uncertain path ahead.
—
The morning sun painted Winterfell in hues of gold, casting a warm light over the courtyard. Despite the tender touch of dawn, the echoes of the previous night's emotions still sat within your heart.
A soft knock on your door signaled the entrance of your father, whose countenance bore the strength of responsibility. "(Y/N)," he began with a softness, "gather your sisters. There's something we must discuss."
Compelled by both curiosity and a lingering sense of unrest, you summoned Arya and Sansa to join you in the family chambers. As the three of you assembled, a somber atmosphere enveloped the room, foreshadowing the gravity of your father's impending words.
Ned stood before you, a stalwart figure. "My daughters," he started, his voice bearing both love and gravitas, "a change is upon us. I have been offered the position of Hand of the King by King Robert."
Sansa's eyes widened, Arya's skepticism palpable, and you exchanged a glance with a mixture of surprise and uncertainty.
"We will be relocating to King's Landing," Ned continued, his gaze encompassing each of you. "It is an honor, but with it comes great responsibility. The court is a labyrinth of politics and intrigue, and I need my family by my side."
Arya's rebellious spirit simmered beneath the surface, while Sansa's excitement mingled with trepidation. As for you, the events of the night before lingered, making the move to King's Landing feel like an unexpected twist in the intricate tapestry of your life.
Amidst the familial exchanges, there was another silent dance occurring—one between you and Sandor. His eyes constantly drew your gaze. It was as if an invisible thread connected you, and in those moments, the world around you blurred as your eyes met his, wordlessly conveying a shared understanding of the complexities unfolding.
Ned Stark, seemingly oblivious to the subtle interplay, continued to outline the responsibilities that awaited the Stark family in the capital. As he spoke, your eyes frequently found Sandor's, and each exchange carried a weight of unspoken emotions. His gaze, normally guarded, held a hint of something that transcended the stoic exterior he presented to the world.
When Ned mentioned the unity of the Stark family in facing the challenges ahead, your eyes involuntarily sought out Sandor's once more. In that shared gaze, there was a recognition that echoed the uncertainties of the path ahead and the uncharted territories that lay before you.
The air seemed heavy with the weight of impending change as you sought out Sandor in the quiet corners of the castle. You found him in a secluded courtyard, the familiar hounds of House Stark milling about nearby. The atmosphere was tense, and the silent exchange of glances from before lingered in your mind.
"Sandor," you began, your voice cutting through the stillness. He turned to face you, his expression guarded but expectant.
The words tumbled out, the night before demanding acknowledgement. "What happened between us… it was unexpected, and now with the move to King's Landing, I don't know what this means."
Sandor's gaze, normally impenetrable, softened in a rare display of vulnerability. "It means nothing, my Lady. Just a moment in time, and we move on."
But you couldn't shake the lingering questions. "Is that all it was to you? Just a moment?"
He hesitated, his eyes meeting yours with a raw honesty. "It was more than that, but it's not something that fits into our worlds."
A surge of frustration mixed with a tinge of sadness swept over you. "Our worlds? What does that mean, Sandor? We're both headed to King's Landing. We're both a part of whatever is coming next."
His gaze held a complexity that mirrored the conflict within. "In King's Landing, there's a different kind of game being played. I’m not the one to bring into your world, and you sure as hell don't belong in mine."
The words stung, but there was a resignation in his tone, as if he sought to shield you from the harsh realities he faced daily.
You took a step closer, unwilling to let the unspoken linger. "I can decide what world I belong to, Sandor. And right now, I want to understand what this is between us."
He sighed, a mixture of frustration and reluctance. "We're just two people caught up in a storm. Best not to overthink it."
Before you could press further, the sound of footsteps approached, and the courtyard suddenly felt less secluded. Sandor's eyes met yours once more, a silent understanding passing between you.
"In King's Landing, things will have to change," he muttered, his tone a gruff acknowledgment of the challenges ahead.
The bittersweet taste of truth lingered in the air as he pressed a fleeting kiss to your forehead. A silent understanding passed between you, a farewell woven with unspoken regrets and the inevitability of parting ways.
As the distance between your bodies widened, the courtyard seemed to stretch infinitely. The angst that clung to the parting moments left an indelible ache, a silent ache that would resonate in the chambers of your heart long after the echoes of Sandor's footsteps faded into the shadows.
"I don't want to lose you," you confessed in your mind.
Yesssss! Excited to see where this goes🤭
Sandor Clegane & Arya Stark + emoji kitchen
Fox and the Hound
Sandor Clegane x reader
Chapter 7
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 this chapter- SMUT, MINORS DNI this chapter is basically all smut, unprotected sex, p in v, size kink, praise kink (if you squint), aftercare, fluff, confession of feelings, deep pen., 18+ action, words, and themes. Fingering (fem reciv.), over stimulation, literally breathing the bed.
Kicking the door open to your shared chambers sandor carrying you to the bed placing you down.
“I-im fine sandor really I'm alright.” you say
“Was she trying to fucking kill you?” he huffs.
“Shall i fetch the maester now milord?” joss asks.
“No joss i'm alright.” you say he nods.
“Away with you!” Sandor barks out at him.
“Thank you joss you've been helpful.” you say and get up going over to your desk and grabbing a small pouch of coins handing it to him.
“Th-thank you, milady but I cannot-” he begins.
“Take it. Get a hot meal from the kitchen and rest earlier tell them I sent you.” you say. You bow before thanking you again and leaving closing the doors behind him.
You turn back to Sandor who stands by the bed.
“I'm alright. You have to stop looking at me like I've got a gash through my stomach.” you say and pull off what's left of the cut dress. It easily falls loose into a pile of fabric on the floor. You sigh in relief as you pull out your hair from its updo, happy to have it back down resting on your shoulders yet still keeping half of it up.
“What's that? Another deadly gift for the queen?” he asks dreadfully, seeing the black and yellow dress still hanging on the outside of the wardrobe.
“No. It's nothing…” you say shaking your head combing your fingers through your hair. He looks at you knowing it's nothing. You sigh and look down at the dress then turn to face him.
“I was going to wear it tonight…I had put an order into the seamstress two days ago for the festival. I-it was supposed to be a surprise. Your house colors.” you say looking down. It's quiet as you look down at your feet. Also have taken off your shoes.
“Put it on,” he says. You look up at him surprised he would respond.
“Wh-what?” you ask. He nods and repeats his statement again.
“Put it on. I'll help you.” he adds. You nod and walk to it, taking the dress off the hook and laying it on the bed. He walks to the other side where you stand. You pull off your underclothes now nude once again in front of your husband but he's more focused on wanting to see you in the dress than anything.
You step into the dress, pulling up the sleeves. You feel his hands on your waist as he trails them to your back and ties up the back tightening it just enough to fit perfectly. You take a breath before turning around to face him. His eyes look down to you moving up and down your body at your perfect form in the dress. Never having been more turned on from a woman putting on clothes.
“Wait.” he says you frown looking up at him when his eyes meet your face. He reaches up his hand and moves behind your head pulling the last pin from your hair letting it all fall down your shoulders tucking a strand behind your ear.
“there…I like your hair down better. You look beautiful.” he says. Pulling his hand away.
“There's one more thing I wanted.” you say.
“What?” he asks wanting nothing more than to please you in this moment.
“You can so no…but. I wanted to dance with you. At least once but I'm afraid I've lost that chance.” you speak.
“Mm.” he says, taking your hand leading you to the empty middle of the room as he pulls you into him, his hand resting on your lower back, your hand on his shoulder.
You begin to sway despite the lack of music. The sounds of the crackling fire, and the light clinking of his metal armor such comforting sounds as you move through the space. Moving around as he dances with you, his eyes never taken off of yours, your heart skips a beat everytime his hand is placed back onto your waist. He pulls away for just a second to twirl you.
“Sandor.” you speak, you meet him back in the center. He holds you still looking down to you waiting for you to finish as you look into his brown eyes.
“I love you.” you say. It's quiet almost making you regret confessing but his lips against your treasures everything back into you. Your arms wrap around his neck. He pulls you up off the grown spinning around once. You know he wouldn't be able to say it back but just tell him to give you a lift.
He places you back down on the ground and you take his hand reaching one hand to your back pulling the string out of the bow he he tied loosening the dress all while walking backwards twords the bed.
He stops you before the dress loosens enough to fall from your body. Taking your hand in his he pulls it up the strap of his armor set. You give him a smile as you unclip them letting his armor down. You pull off the pieces, shoulders, chest, you take off his dagger and sword belt. He removes his boots to be equally as bare footed as you now leaving him in his pants and shirt.
He takes one last look at you in the dress before pulling you to him reaching behind you to loosen the ties enough for it to slip off you once again leaving you naked.
Wasting no time your lips are on each other's hands searching your body. You pull off his clothing and hastily help him remove his pants so he's just as nude as you.
He picks you up with your legs wrapping around his waist as he lays you down on your back still kissing your lips. You push on his chest pushing him away about to protest. You flip him over so he's on his back and you climb on top of him, your cunt already slick with arousal as your folds brush against his hardened cock.
He lets out a grunt at your eagerness, you having been so submissive the first time now being more confident. His hands searched up your waist to your breasts giving them a squeeze, his thumbs brushing over your budded nipples. He sits up kissing your jaw and neck for once your height is now level. Your hand presses against his chest unknowingly pressing against the scar he first told you not to touch.
You look down as he lets out a pained grunt.
“I'm sorry.” you say. He shakes his head looking at you moving his hand from your breast to your cheek, warmth spreading all over your body as he presses his lips against yours once more. He takes your wrist in his other hand and keeps your hands over the scar before you can pull away.
On your own terms you move your other hand down his sheet reaching his cock grasping it he groans at the feeling of your touch against him. You raise up a bit, lining it up with yourself. You moved him, the tip sliding up and down your wet folds as you tried to stay steady, your other hand holding onto his shoulder as you centered him to you. Sinking down onto you, you watched as he disappeared into you.
A moan leaving your lips as he stretches you back open for the second time. He groans deeply burying his face in the crook of your neck, the texture of his scar tickling your neck, a welcomed sensation. and moved him inside. The pure pleasure you both felt against each other. Sinking down further you engulfs him fully, now having barely adjusted to his size he fills you so well. You place your hand on your stomach feeling the bulge he leaves.
You move your hips letting out a squeaky moan as he feels so amazing in this position. He kisses your neck finding the sweet spot to make you weaken into him back into the submission state you were housed in the first time you two bedded.
“F-fuck s-sandor..you feel so good.” you let out a stuttered voice.
He lays back onto the plushness of the mattress. His hand gripping your hips he views the fading bruises left on your skin only wanting to make more, to mark you up as his. Pure lust blows in his eyes. You look better than the banquet spread early.
His thrusts up into you getting a moaning yelp from your mouth.
“Say it again,” he says roughly.
“Sandor..” you paint already needing to cum just from him entering you and grinding a bit.
He thrusts up into you again, pleasure surging through you.
“I won't ask again, little fox.” he says.
“Ngh..s-so good.” you speak. Prompting him to fuck up into you again this time not stopping. Your nails dig into his chest as he fucks you your hair falling over your face. Two more thrusts and he has you early cumming.
Your walls spasm around his cock clenching down. Only making him chuckle as you've given out so quickly wanting to last long to please him. But just your presence pleases him.
You flip you both over, cock still buried inside of you. He pulls your thigh up against his hip resting the rook of your knee on the bone as he thrusts into you. His moans and grunts mixed with your noises fill the room once again. His face hiding in the crook of your neck wanting to be closer to you than he already is.
“I love you..fuck I love you.” you hear him mumble. If it weren't for the fact that his mouth is close to your ear you wouldn't have heard it. But youre so glad you did. The sound of those three little words go straight to your core as you squeeze down around him causing your tight cunt to suck him in further somehow when he's already balls deep.
Just like before he pulls your leg higher on his body pushing intro to hitting right up against your special spot one hand now placed behind your head gripping the headboard the other now between your legs thumbing at your clit. The sensation of movement added causes your back to arch in pure pleasure.
Your head falls to the side, your hands once all over his body fall to the sides of your head gripping the pillow and sheets. Your moans muffled as you bring your hand to your lips biting the back of it. The sound of wod cracking hits your ears before sandor covers you from the splinters of wood from the now broken headboard he broke.
None of it matters with how much and how good hes fucking you. His thumb is still toying with your clit overstimulating you making you cum for a second time. your hands feel numb and your legs begin to shake. The way you're squeezing him sends him over the edge finally as he roughly thrusts down into you surly bruising your cervix as he cums into you filling you so much you can feel it.
Your moans are muffled as his lips meet yours and a passionate kiss. The lingering touches and caresses. Before he pulls out away from you. Without having to ask he moves off you pulling you into him letting you know he will not be leaving for the night.
—----
Nothing could be more perfect than the way you wake up. Sandor sleeps with his head against your chest listening to your heart beat. Your arms around him cradling his head into you his arms strong arms engulfing your waist and ass as your leg is draped over your chest.
You look around the room not seeing your ladies in waiting who are usually annoyingly roaming around the room. You look at the door seeing that it's latched. Most likely Sandor who got up after you fell asleep and locked it to make sure they stayed out.
You feel his hand move up your back before he speaks.
“Stop moving.” he says, his eyes still closed.
You didn't realize looking around the room was causing a lot of movement.
“Good morning.” you say kissing his forehead and face.
“Mm” he grumbles his morning voice somehow deeper than usual.
He shifts from the position he's in reluctantly but only to move over you and press his lips against yours in a morning kiss. Pulling away he looks at you seemingly glowing to his vision. You get a look at his beautiful brown eyes before he pulls away from you sitting on the edge of the bed you crawl over to him wrapping around him his warmth paced back onto you in the cold room. Even though you're wearing his shirt which he’d put on you during the night.
“Don't go.” you say kissing his scared shoulder blade, a sword scar from a mishap during training. He places his hand on your arm that's around his neck looking down and kissing it before trying to pry you off him.
“Nooo.” you whine he chuckles, shaking his head and finally succeeds in taking you off. He stands walking over to his scattered clothes before picking them up and beginning to dress.
“Please sandor.” you whine. Moving to get out of bed but once you stand your legs immediately turn to water, as if you're a baby deer learning to stand for the first time. He hears a soft thud as you hit the ground with a little shriek.
He turns to you seeing you grabbing the bed pulling yourself up chuckling to himself.
“Didn't mean to disable you little fox,” he says.
“That's alright, I don't need to walk today anyway.” you say brushing it off before standing again your legs stronger this time regaining strength.
“Go back to bed,” he says, gathering his armor pieces, setting them on the table by the burnt out fireplace. You watch him as he does this. You sit on the bed, legs crossed, his shirt more like a dress on your body. He Looks around for a shirt as if you’re not wearing it. A smile forms on your face as you watch your shirtless lover.
He takes notice of you sitting and smiling at him.
“What are you smiling about?” He huffs and notices you have his shirt.
You shake your head, continuing to smile at him.
“nothing.” You answer.
“You find my struggle amusing?” He says walking to you making you giggle and scoot back on the bed. He crawls over to you and you wrap your arms around his neck pulling him to you as he kisses your face and neck.
“I’m gonna need this back now.” He says gruffly.
“Mmhm.” You answer by pulling him close to you.
His hands move, hiking up the shirt to your waist. Before you pull him close enough to kiss him. He happily returns it. As his large hand rests under your breast giving it a squeeze causing a gasp put out you breaking the kiss allowing him to pull the shirt up and off of you leaving you naked to his view.
He gets up and off you walking over to the rest of his armor pieces as he places the shirt on himself, seeming morphing to fit him perfectly.
You whine now wanting him. He puts on the armor you once took off.
“Come on little fox don’t act like that.” He says clipping the last of his armor on.
“What am I doing while you're gone? Relieve myself on the pillows?” You huff.
“Such crude words.” He grunts.
“Bad luck to leave your wife wanting and nude. Many things could happen: she could invite a man over clouded by her judgme-“ you're cut off with his hand around your neck pulling you to him a giggle leaving your lips.
About to speak he decides not to and leaves you with a deep kiss. You shift standing on your knees, his hand tracking down your waist one to the front farther down, swiping your folds, his thick digit entering you, making you gasp out gripping onto his armored shoulders as you moan out of the kiss.
He pushes in a second thick finger thrusting them in and out of you, his thumb firmly pressed against your clit. His other hand firmly grips your hip keeping you in place. His eyes never leave yours.
“Ngh…s-sandor.” You moan you only promoting him to grab your ass making you moan out as his fingers sink deeper fucking you over and over pressing against the spongy spot against you. Your walls clench around his digits, knees giving out as you cum. You grab onto him wherever you can as he rides out your high.
Pulling his hand away from you You pant at the residual over stimulation.
“You speak like that again you won’t be able to walk the castle halls for the next day and half.” He says leaning down pulls the sheets over you and around you. giving you one last kiss he turns and walks out making sure not to wipe you off his hand wearing you like a prize for the day. Your hand maidens who were waiting outside rush in making you sigh.
they stop in thier tracks looking around the room at the scattered garments from you, the broken bed and you wrapped in the bed sheet, hair messed.
Chapter 8 coming soon.
Wow!!!! Looking forward to reading more🤭🤭🤭
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
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His Queen: Nameday
A/n: This isn’t a part two to the story, His Queen but more like a little frame story. I do hope you enjoy it. If it’s liked then I’ll start thinking about actually doing part two. Enjoy! -L
Summary: After some time has passed since the birth of Leonidas, you were celebrating your nameday when you been craving Sandor’s touch.
Warning: Joffrey being Joffrey, NSFW, SFW, smut, Sandor is a sweetheart, self conscious after giving birth,we still giving Joffrey that milk of the poppy😌, pussy eating, having sex but there is a person in the room, Sandor Clegane x FEM!Reader
If you haven’t read His Queen, click on the title.
Word Count: 3.7K
»»————- ♡ ————-««
The great hall was filled with people who were invited for the celebration. It was your nameday and Joffrey had thrown a huge feast for you after having a tournament. To be honest it was mostly for him, you weren’t fond of tourneys, seeing two men fighting for no reason other than measuring their cock and seeing who’s better at fighting didn’t entertain you as it did for Joffrey. Plus it meant Sandor had to fight. You didn’t like seeing Sandor fighting. You didn’t want to see him get hurt.
The feast was well and you gave your thanks to everyone who wished you a good nameday. You had been glancing over at Sandor who was at the entrance of the hall looking around making sure everything was safe. When he caught your eye, you bit your bottom lip. He wink at you, that was a sign. Sandor and you had made up different signs to talk to each other. Scratching the chin was a sign to meet up in the library. Two nods were a no. A wink was a yes. Biting the bottom lip was a sign to meet up tonight.
After the birth of Leonidas you haven’t had the chance to be intimate with Sandor. You missed his touch and his lips on you. You missed the attention and his gentleness. You were so busy looking at Sandor that you didn’t realize that Joffrey, who was next to you, was talking to you. You jumped in your seat when you felt a painful pinch on your leg. You let out a wince and look over at Joffrey with a frown. You met his piercing blue eyes glaring at you.
“Next time pay attention to me when I speak to you.” He scolded you like a child.
“Apologies, your grace.” You said lowering your eyes to the floor. This pleases him and he lets out a sigh before repeating.
“The maester has assured me that you are ready and healed. Tonight I’ll have you.” Your stomach dropped at his words. You have been declining Joffrey to bed him. Giving him excuses that you aren’t healed yet. Some days you tell him that you have your blood moon and he becomes disgusted. You have gotten as far as going to the maester and telling him the same thing. Your luck just ran out.
“Very well.” You told him. You massaged your leg that he pinched under the table. You had to find a way to slip some milk of the poppy in his drink before he goes to the chambers tonight.
Joffrey had gotten up from his seat to speak with some lord and you quickly looked over to your left to call one of your ladies in waiting. She came to you right away. Her eyes widen when you mention to her to retrieve milk of the poppy for you quickly and in secret. When she didn’t move right away, you gently held her hand.
“The king has requested for me to bed him tonight. You know the type of man he is. I will not refuse my king but it’s the pain that I can’t endure.”
“You should have it right away, your grace.” She said before bowing her head. Everyone knew how Joffrey was, what kind of man he is. He was a bully and downright cruel. You got used to it, the pinches, the insults and the abuse. You’re grateful that he didn’t do any such thing to your son.
Looking ahead you looked at Sandor once more. He made everything better. He was the reason why you continue on. He gave you the most wonderful gift of all, your son. When you couldn’t be with Sandor, you stayed with your son at all times. His eyes were a reminder of him. His kind heart was another thing like Sandor. Under that cold and hard exterior was a kind man. You felt like the luckiest woman in the seven kingdoms to experience Sandor’s kindness and love.
You looked away when your lady in waiting returned with a goblet of wine. She removed the cap of a glass vessel containing the milk of the poppy. “Everything. The whole thing.”
“Are you certain? This will put you right to sleep.”
“Exactly.” You told her watching her emptying the vessel into the wine behind you and away from everyone’s view. Handing you the wine, she hid the vessel between her breasts and bowed her head before leaving.
You turned back and saw Joffrey was walking towards you. You placed it next to his goblet.
“Celebration should end soon. Can’t wait to have you.” Joffrey said, sitting back down next to you.
“Neither can I.” You lied through your teeth. You felt one of his hands on top of your lap. Bile started to come up your throat when his hand was going under your gown. You grabbed his wrist and leaned over at him, getting close to his face.
“Drink wine. I like the taste of it from your tongue.” You whispered to him, making him grin. You handed him the goblet of wine that contains the milk of the poppy.
You watched as he drank it all in one gulp.
That night you were staring at yourself in the mirror, you can hear Joffrey light snores in the back. His uncle, Jamie, dragged him into bed a few minutes ago. You had left the party to prepare yourself for Sandor and tuck Leonidas into bed early. Jamie plopped Joffrey on the bed and bid you goodnight as he left. You leaned over at Joffrey making sure he was dead asleep after Jamie left, you made sure he was. You slapped him across the face, a hard slap. You smiled when he didn’t wake up. It worked, you wouldn’t be sleeping with Joffrey tonight.
You traced the patterns of your nightgown while looking at the mirror. You haven’t been intimate with Sandor for a while. You were nervous and self conscious. Your body had changed and you wondered if Sandor would still want you. You heard a slight rumble and looked over by the wall near the fireplace. The tapestry hung from the wall slightly moved and a hand appeared behind it. You smiled because you recognized that large hand.
The castle of King’s Landing had many hidden secret passageways and tunnels, many didn’t know about this but Sandor did. He knew the castle like the back of his hand. He had found a passage that led straight to your bed chambers. Sandor found you smiling moving the tapestry aside, he walked inside. He saw you walking towards him. Sandor wore a white tunic shirt and black trousers. He had his sword with him in case of anything.
“Happy nameday.” He tells you as he leans down to kiss you. You cupped his face with your hands as you deepened the kiss.
“Thank you.” You said against his lips. You pulled away and led Sandor to the loveseat by the fireplace. Sandor sat down and opened his legs as he placed his sword near the love seat.
“I’m heavy.” You whined making him shake his head in disbelief.
“Nonsense.” He replies as he makes you sit down on his lap. You wrapped an arm around his neck and he wrapped his arms around you. You embraced him and his warmth. You missed this, being close to him. You couldn’t do this with Joffrey.
“The cunt is asleep?” Sandor whispered looking over his shoulder.
“Aye.” You answered him as you kissed his cheek. “I gave him a good slap to make sure too.” Sandor chuckled at you.
Sandor’s warm hand rubbed your back as you hugged him. He moans softly as you kiss his neck, you tugs the laces from the necklace. Your fingers immediately went to touch his chest, feeling the soft and thick chest hair.
“I missed you.” You tell him.
“Me too.” He told you, giving your hip a gentle squeeze.
“I got you something.” You raise your eyebrows at Sandor.
“You did?” You asked him happily. He nodded at you as he grabbed something from his front pocket of his trousers.
The ring looked so tiny between his fingers. It was a simple silver band with an oak leaf filigree pattern around the band.
“It’s not much. You don’t have-.” You took the ring from his hands with a smile.
“I love it. Thank you.” You cut him off as you gave him a kiss on his scar cheek. Sandor doesn’t say anything but has his own smile as he watches you excitedly slide the ring down with your index finger, it fitted perfectly. He knew it would, he had tied a string around your finger while you were dozing off the last time he was with you.
You showed Sandor the ring and his smile grew big. You showered him with kisses on his face. “It’s beautiful.”
You kept admiring the ring, not noticing that Sandor was staring at you with such admiration.
“You’re beautiful. Breathtaking.” You looked over at him with a small smile blushing really hard. Sandor cups your cheek, he pulls you in for another kiss. He leans his forehead against yours to catch his breath.
“Take me to bed.” You tell him as you playfully pull on his grown beard.
You let out a squeal when Sandor gathered you in his arms and got up from the loveseat. With one arm around your lower back and the other in the crook of your knees. Sandor carefully carried you to the bed, his eyes darted to Joffrey then back at you. He knew Joffrey was asleep but he still was a bit nervous. He didn't want to know, he didn't even want to think what would happen if Joffrey caught him and you. He worried for your safety and Leonidas.
Sandor laid you down on your spot, he was glad that the bed was big. Enough room for three people. Sandor knelt between your legs as he took his shirt off, throwing it aside. You loved watching his muscles flex every time he did that. You grabbed a hold of one of his big arms pulling him towards you. You lean up to meet his lips. Sandor couldn’t stop touching you, your legs, your hips when he touched your stomach he felt you tensed up. He frowns but ignores it, he pulls away to kiss your neck down your chest. He goes to help you get rid of the gown when you tell him to stop.
“I want to leave it on.” Sandor pulls away and looks down at you.
“Did he hurt you again?” He asked worriedly, his hands began to clench. He had seen the bruises on your body before. You shook your head and decided to tell him the truth.
“My body his changed, Sandor. I’m not what I used to look like.” He notices you looking away from his gaze.
“I don’t care what your body looks like. You had a babe, my babe. Your body should be worshiped everyday.” You felt like crying at his words and he noticed it. He leans over you.
“You don’t have to take it off. I won’t force you.” He tells you. “I would like to see your body. I want to kiss every single part of it.”
You never shy away from Sandor before. You knew he wasn’t lying. Sandor wasn’t the type to lie, he would say it straight to your face, the good and the bad . “Help me.” You ask him. He helps you sit up and grab the bottom of the sleeping gown as you raise your arm up.
You look like an angel he thinks as you laid back down, he immediately leans over you, his mouth goes to your chest. Kissing it, savoring your skin. You moan as you feel his tongue dragging down on your sternum, his hand laches on your breast. While the other has his mouth on. Sandor’s cock grew hard, your body indeed changed and he loved it. You were more sensitive, you moaned as he sucked on your nipple. You were fuller, as his hands went down, he squeezed your hips. You threw your head back when Sandor continued to make his way down kissing your tummy.
“There’s that pretty cunt I missed so much.” He says when he’s between your legs. You look down at him and smile as he kisses your inner thighs. Biting your bottom lip when he looks at you.
“She missed me?” Sandor asked and you nodded.
He kisses your mound, enjoying the scent of your musk. He curses under his breath when he feels you're already wet. He drives his face into your cunt. His tongue licking your slit. You cry out when his nose hits your clit as he eats you out. Sandor is practically growing like an animal as he eats your pussy. He hooked his arms under your legs parting them wider so he could bury his face against your pussy.
You cry out his name when Sandor slowly licks your entrance. Sandor was breathing heavily, he had to catch his breath for a moment. His face is wet with your slick, it’s coated on his beard. He kisses your throbbing clit as he breathes. He brings one of his hands to part your plump and soaked lips so he has better access to your clit. Sandor dips his finger inside of you slowly, he doesn’t want to hurt. He wants to get you ready for his cock.
He smirks when you curse as he slowly adds another. His cock twitches when he feels your spongy sweet spot. He rubs your clit with his fat thumb as he watches you arch your back.
With your head thrown back and eyes closed you were feeling you were going to explode. It’s been a while since you had cum. Opening your eyes, you turned your head to the right, you saw Joffrey next to you. You had forgotten all about the blonde. He was still sound asleep, he had his face turned to you. You couldn't help but grow more aroused by this. Joffrey is sleeping next to you while Sandor is eating and fingering your cunt. You thought about what would have happened if he saw his wife, the queen getting eaten out by his rugged guard.
“You’re close. I feel it. Cum now.” Sandor tells you as he rubs harder on your clit. Him demanding you was what sent you off. You came hard on his hand while staring at Joffrey. Sandor smiles as he licks your cum off his fingers. He gives kitten lick to your cunt enjoying as you twitch under him.
Sandor stares at you as you catch your breath. He gets out of the bed and takes his boots out along with his trousers. “Fuck.” He moans to himself at the sight of your cunt as he gets on the bed between your legs.
“Let me return the favor.” You said with a smile but Sandor pushes your legs apart so he fits in between them.
“Another day. I need you now.” You continue to look up at Sandor as he traced your bottom lip with his index finger. Your brows knit together in confusion when he didn't say anything. He kept staring at you, he noticed your expression.
“This is the only time that I get to see your face up close. Your pretty face.” Sandor takes notes of your face. Your brows, your nose, your lips and your eyes. He admires you and he feels like his heart is jumping out of his chest by the way you look up at him. You grabbed a hold of his wrist and brought the palm of his hand to your lips, kissing it.
He says your name before leaning down to kiss you, your legs wrap around his waist. You let out a whine when he feels him slowly sliding himself in of you, stretching you wide open. He feels your nails digging his back when he starts thrusting in and out of you slowly, he kisses you to cover your moans. As much he wanted to hear you cry out for his cock, both of you had to keep quiet.
It’s hard for you to keep quiet, you couldn't not when his girthy cock is splitting you open. He fills you so much it's hard to contain the moan. His fat head's tapping against your womb and you feel your arousal sliding down to your ass every time he thrusted out of you. Sandor bites his bottom lip to the point he breaks the skin, he licks his bottom bloody lip. The taste of copper and your tight cunt around his cock was becoming too much. He’s on you, hiding his face between your neck and shoulder as he ruts deep into you. The bed is creaking every time he thrust inside you, you're left out of breath every time he slams inside of you.
Sandor groans when he feels your wall tighten around him, he grinds his hips into circles making you cry out in pleasure. The sound of his heavy balls hitting against your ass, the sound of his breathy moans against your neck.
“Want you to have my babe again.” Sandor tells you against his neck. You wrap your arms around his shoulder holding on for dear life.
“Heard what the maester said to Joffrey. You're mine. You're all mine. Only having my babes.” You let out a whine when Sandor pounded into you with a grunt.
“Mine, pretty queen is all mine.” Sandor curls the bedsheet under both of you, in his fist as he feels you cuming on his dick.
“Came all over my cock because I said you were mine.” You nodded, not able to speak as you kept holding onto Sandor. You knew Sandor was near, his thrusts were slowing down. You wanted him to cum just like you did. You wanted to make him feel good.
“Give me another babe.” Sandor whines to you. “I want another babe. Your babe.” You cry out to him.
“I only want to have your kids. No one else.” Something snaps into Sandor’s and his thrusts turn erratic. He’s panting heavily now as he fucks you harder. He's going to give you another kid. He’s going to put a child inside of you because he’s yours and you’re his. He looks at you as he continues. You have teary eyes and you're moaning his name out.
“Ah-h fuck-fuck.” Sandor cries out as he cums deep inside your womb filling you up. You let out a deep breath when he completely drops his weight on you. He was about to move when you wrapped your limbs tighter around him. You didn’t want him to leave yet, you wanted him inside of you forever.
It was a few minutes and he still remained inside of you. You had begun to rub your hands up and down his back, he’s practically purring when you lightly scratched his back. You can feel the scars on his face against your neck, you didn’t mind one bit. You call out his name softly and he looks at you.
He shuts his eyes when you start to kiss his face, kissing each inch of it. You even kissed his bushy beard. Both of you knew time was ticking, as much both of you wanted to stay together for the entire night. It is impossible. Joffrey might walk up or someone might come in. Sandor notices you’re drifting off. He pushes himself up and kisses you just like you had done with him. He’s so gentle with the kisses.
Sandor is stalling, he knew he was. He should have gotten dressed by now and on his way to his own chambers but he couldn’t. You had just milked his cock dry, you looked so beautiful under him. He doesn’t say goodbye to you, you feel asleep the moment he removes himself from you. He’s standing by your side naked as he brings the sheets and blankets up to your body. Covering you and tucking you into bed.
He gives you one last look before quickly getting dressed and walking towards the loveseat to get his sword. He looks over at the bed to see you and Joffrey sleeping.
You don't remember when you fell asleep in his arms but you woke up by the sound of Joffrey's voice. You quickly remember that you had forgotten about Joffrey’s clothes when you woke up and looked over at Joffrey. You let out a sigh of relief when you saw he was naked like you, Sandor must have done it before he left. Joffrey was sitting up rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hands. He was groaning and moaning about having a headache.
“I shall have the servants get a maester.” You told him softly. You were about to get up when Joffrey leaned over you. Pushing you back down on the bed, Joffrey shook his head.
“Did we?” You nodded at his question. He seemed happy about it and leaned down next to you, prop up with one arm on the bed.
“Mother has been pestering me about another child. Lay down and don't let my cum escape.” He looks over at you and pulls the sheet down exposing your breasts. He stares at the love bites with a smirk like he was proud of his work. If he only knew. You were going to cover yourself when Joffrey removed the sheets completely off making you gasp.
“Hold still.” He commands you. You obeyed him, you didn't feel like getting hit this early in the morning. You tensed up when you felt one of his hands go between your legs.
He feels the aftermath of your love making with Sandor. Sandor’s thick cum is dripping out of you. Joffrey nods and you bite the inside of your cheek as he rubs your outer lips with Sandor’s and your cum. Your eyes widen when he puts his fingers in his mouth, licking it clean.
“We taste good together.” He tells you before getting up from the bed to get his robe to start his day
“We do, your grace.” You said as you looked up at the ceiling tugging on the sheets to cover yourself.
Yessss! This is so good! Very invested in these two😮
I absolutely LOVE your Sandor fics! Could i request a fluffy yet angsty Sandor fic where reader is kinda emotional and this could be a sequel to the Sandor x artist reader drable
Hellooooo! I'm not sure which drabble you're referring to... Could you give me more info?
"Nightmare."
Author: hola! I'm starting a new chapter of my life and it's going to keep me a bit busier, but I'll try to keep posting as much as I can. I decided to mix up this 2 requests since I thought they went well together. I really like how this turned out, and I hope you like it too!
Request: Hi! I loved your fics! I looked at the prompt list and honestly so many of them would go perfectly with Sandor. How about 7? The reader soothing Sandor after a nightmare and then continuing with smutt.. That would be quite hot.
Request: Hi! Could I request something with 14 and 19? With Sandor and y/n already married if possible, something fluffy and sweet🥰 There was also one prompt about hand kisses but I forgot which number, so if you could add something about that too that would be lovely!!
Prompts:
7. [character] wakes up breathing heavily from a nightmare, and you soothe them by bringing them to your chest, and whispering sweet things to their ear while your hand caresses their hair.
14. tracing [character]'s features while they sleep, and vice versa.
19. “gods, your lips are so sweet. Please kiss me again?”
80. [character] giving you knuckle, hand, and palm kissing.
WARNINGS: language, night terrors, smut, oral sex (him receiving)
Sandor has always had trouble sleeping, especially since the fire incident. He never slept for longer than 3 or 4 hours. He was more than used to it by now, and now you were too. You are what is called a sleepy head. You used to have trouble sleeping as well, but sleeping next to Sandor changed everything. Now, you could sleep for hours and hours as long as he's with you, holding you somehow. It's one of the many perks of having him as a husband.
Tonight, after a passionate session, you were lying on him, both of you naked. You always drifted off right after sex, and tonight was no different. He loved those moments, just holding you while you were in your most vulnerable.
You turn in your sleep, laying your head on the pillow instead. He then turns into his side, holding his head up with his left arm. He stares at your profile, wondering how he got so lucky. He raises his arm, using his index finger to trace your features. He starts at your forehead, continuing along your nose and down to your lips. Gods, those lips.
He repeats his actions a few times until you shift, turning again to bury your head in his chest. He hugs you into him, kissing your head.
"Goodnight, Y/N." He mumbles into your hair, nodding off soon after that.
You wake up to Sandor shaking and whining beside you. You turn to look at him. He's extremely sweaty, and his face cringes in pain.
"Gregor! No!" He whimpers.
You sit next to him, taking his head between your hands.
"Sandor!" You say, holding his head. "Baby, it's just a dream."
He whimpers again. Noticing what you're doing isn't enough, you move your hands to his shoulders, shaking quickly.
Sandor wakes up abruptly, his defensive instincts on. You take your hands off his shoulders, raising them before you in a redemptive way.
"It's me." You say softly. "You're okay. It was just a nightmare."
His gaze softens when he meets your eyes, his breathing getting back to normal.
"It's okay." You say, bringing his head to your chest and stroking his hair. "You're okay. I'm here."
"I'm sorry." He mumbles.
"Don't be." You whisper. "We don't need to talk about it."
He nods, silently thanking you. He moves a bit, so his head is resting on your lap while you continue stroking his hair.
He takes your hand in his and brings it to his face, giving you knuckle, hand, and palm kisses.
After a few minutes, his breathing is completely back to normal.
"Better?" You ask in a soothing voice.
"Yes." He mumbles, kissing your hand on more time before sitting up.
He moves to sit next to you, and you caress his face, turning to kiss him softly. He hums, kissing you back.
When the kiss breaks, you hear him mumble against your lips. "Gods, your lips are so sweet." He moves his hands to your waist and shifts you so you're straddling his lap. "Please kiss me again?"
You smile, understanding what he wants. Your husband is a dominant man. It's pretty obvious to everyone. Normally, Sandor is also dominant when you two are intimate, and you do love it when he is. Some nights, though, he just needs to feel loved, for which he likes to give up control. Tonight is one of those nights.
Leaning in to kiss him passionately, you move your hands to the nape of his neck. You slightly scrape the skin there as you know he loves, and you feel his groan inside of your mouth.
You kiss all over his face, especially over his burnt-out side. When you reach his earlobe, you gently bite it, whispering. "I'm going to take care of you."
He hums, moving his hands from your hips to your backside.
"Hands off." You say, running your tongue over his bottom lip. "I'm doing all the touching tonight."
The smirk on his face tells you he's enjoying this as much as you are, and he takes his hands off your butt to position them on the bed.
You kiss him again, harder than before. You feel his half hard cock twitch between your bodies. After years together, you know exactly what gets him going.
You kiss his lips one last time before moving to his neck. You know he likes it a bit rough, so you bite all over his skin, sucking afterward.
You hear him groan. He loves to mark you, and he secretly loves to be marked as well. It tells the world he's yours.
"You're so hot." You say, kissing your way down to his groin. You hear him moan.
You avoid touching his now aching hard cock, kissing his belly instead. Your hands move his thighs, softly scratching the hair there.
"Fucking Gods Y/N." He whines. "Do something."
This is teasing you as much as him, and you know this is going to come back to you as payback sooner than later, but you enjoy the sounds he makes when you tease him too much.
"I'm doing something..." You say against his skin, smirking. "What do you want?"
He groans desperately, realizing he's going to have to say it. "Please, dear wife." He says, and you look up with a smug smile. "Take me into that pretty mouth."
Your smile grows wider victoriously. You sit comfortably between his legs, and you grab his cock and suck his head slowly. He lets out a moan he reserves for these nights, when your teasing frustrates him.
"See." You say, stroking his cock slowly. "You just had to ask."
You don't give him time to answer as you take him into your mouth again, sucking with gusto. His groans are music to your ears.
"Oh fuck, love." He moans. "Suck that cock."
You bob your head repeatedly, taking as much as you can of his cock. You see his hand moving to your head, but he remembers your command and places it in back on the bed, clenching his fist around the bed sheets. You reward him by moving your hand to stroke the part you're not sucking.
You keep sucking vigorously, enjoying his pleasure as if it was your own.
"You're so fucking good at this." He groans. "So fucking good."
His praising makes you smile, and you take a second to take a breath and look up at him. His lustful eyes meet yours.
"Do you want me to stay here?" You say, pecking his head, to which he trembles slightly. "Or do you want me to ride you?"
If you were wet from the teasing, sucking his cock has made you literally dripping.
He licks his lips, exhaling heavily. "Ride me." His voice is darker than usual. "But first I need a kiss."
You smile but move up, straddling his waist again and leaning in to meet his lips. You hum against his mouth as he deliciously sucks your tongue.
"You ready?" He asks, and it almost offends you that he doesn't know how wet sucking him off makes you.
You take his hand, leading it to your pussy.
He moans at the touch. "Fuck, baby. You're soaking."
You kiss him again. "You can touch me now." You say, biting his bottom lip.
He hums, moving his hands to their spot on your hips as you move up, taking his cock in your hand and positioning it at your entrance.
You both let out a moan as you sink into him.
"You feel so good." You moan.
"Ride that cock, darling." He grunts.
You start to move, your hips doing circular motions as they move up and down, which you know he loves. His moans are guttural, needy. Yours are starting to turn into whimpers.
He sits up, kissing you desperately. The new position changes the angle slightly, hitting all the right spots inside you. He moves his thumb to stroke your clit.
"Sandor." You moan against his mouth. "Just like that."
"Gods." He groans. "I'm..."
You already know he's close by the way he's clenching his jaw, so you speed up, humping him.
"Come for me." You moan. "Come in me."
He lets out a loud groan as he starts to come, which triggers your own orgasm. You keep moving to prolong your pleasure. Once you're done, you lay on his chest, exhausted.
His breathing is still getting back to normal when you feel him caressing your back.
"I love you." He says, kissing your hair.
You're almost asleep when he hears you mumble an "I love you too."
Taglist: @broadsdrinkwhisky @malkaviangirl if you want to be in, let me know🩷
A Gift For A Hound (Sandor Clegane x Reader)
Summary: Joffrey gives his faithful Hound a gift---you.
Words: 5,277 Warnings: PIV, Oral sex, Master/Slave,
The Hound walks down the long stone corridor that leads to his room. In his right hand he carries a wineskin filled with the first thing he could get his fucking hands on. Being the personal bodyguard to a cunt like Joffrey is no easy task. The little shit is ruthlessly cruel. Which is saying something coming from him. Sandor Clegane isn’t known for being kind hearted but he’s no Joffrey. The boy is sick in the head. He does his best to push it from his mind. The day is done, meaning he can forget the shit from the day and drown himself in wine alone until the numbness of sleep takes him. This is Sandor’s nightly ritual. One that he honestly looks forward to. But when he opens the door, he isn’t greeted by the usual solitude. Instead, there’s a naked woman kneeling on the floor beside his bed.
It takes him a moment to get over the initial shock, but when he does, his voice booms throughout his chamber. “What the fuck is this? What are you doing here?” You lift your head to look at him, keeping your hands palms up on the tops of your knees. You’re as naked as your nameday, all except your neck. Tied around it is a yellow ribbon with three black dogs down the front—the colors and sigil of his house. “Hello, My Lord Hound.” “I’m no lord. So you can keep those meaningless titles to yourself.” You nod but stay silent. Sandor growls, nearly barking at you. “Well? Are you going to tell me what the fuck you’re doing in here?” You don’t even flinch at his raised voice, just answer him softly with a voice as warm as honey. “I belong to you. I am yours to do with as you please.” His brows pull together, not understanding the words that just left your mouth. “What?” You smile and patiently repeat yourself. “I belong to you now, for as long as you want me.” Your words have his eyes roam over your body for the first time. Every curve, the smoothness of your skin, and the way the chill in the room already has your nipples hard makes his cock twitch. “I’m a gift from King Joffrey.” That catches his attention. Joffrey barely spared him a glance. Now he was giving him gifts? “You’re…my gift.” You smile warmly. “Yes. Master.” That was new. No one had ever called him that before. He isn’t sure how to feel about it, but it’s far better than being called ‘my lord’. He steps over the threshold and lets the door shut behind him before moving closer. At his approach, you once again bow your head. There’s a gentle air about you. It’s something that isn’t a typical trait to the women found on the Streets of Silk. Not that Sandor was a frequent visitor. Most women couldn’t stomach looking at his scarred face. Even when he paid them, they struggled. What was the point of wasting coin on that?
You, on the other hand, are almost intoxicatingly feminine. It makes him want to press his nose to your cunt and breathe in your scent. He looks down at you, feeling more curious and less irritated than when he first walked in. “You said you belong to me?” You nod. “So, you’ll do anything I ask you to?” You keep your eyes downcast but respond without hesitation. “Yes, Master Hound. It will bring me great pleasure to fulfill your every request.”
A tension builds through his frame. Not out of anger, but anticipation. Anticipation to feel release that he often doesn’t get unless he takes his cock in his hand. “Look at me,” he commands. You do so eagerly, looking at him without a speck of fear. He searches your eyes for the lie, determined to find it. He is the Hound afterall. Usually he could smell a liar from yards away, but with you, he only sees devotion. As if you truly wish to serve him. Most were intimidated or afraid of him, but this is something different. It’s submission. It awakens his more animalistic needs. The part that wants nothing more than to fuck and claim and breed. His unscarred eye twitches as his hand moves to your cheek—to see if you’ll flinch at his touch. But, fuck, you lean into his palm and press your lips to the pad of his gloved tumb. Never once averting your gaze. He lets out a breath that he wasn’t aware he was holding. You’re all his. He starts to pull his armor and clothes from his body. You sit up on your knees, helping where you can. You manage to pull the gauntlets from his hands and unbuckle his sword belt. But the rest he does. His fingers move too fast and he knows the armor like the back of his hand. You find other ways to make yourself useful, taking items from him and gently placing them down while he throws the rest on the floor. When he’s left in nothing but his pants and boots, your hand lightly runs over the bulge in the front of his pants. Involuntarily, he bucks into your touch, wanting more. However, you make no move to continue past teasing touches. He grunts impatiently, catching your attention. Your eyes meet, your head tilting to the side as you whisper the words…. “Command me, Master.” Command? Why the fuck would he need to do that? Any other whore he’d ever slept with always took matters into their own hands and rushed to get things over with. “Tell me how to please you. I just want to please my Master.” Your pleading tone shoots right to his already hardening cock. The corners of his mouth twitch into a grin while his hand moves to the back of your skull. He pulls you in, guiding you closer to his groin.
“Kiss it.” Immediately, you obey, leaving kisses along his clothed cock. Only the linen of his pants separates you, but still he can feel the warmth of your mouth. Sandor lets out a rough growl while undoing the knot at the front of his pants. “Don’t stop.” You coo as sweetly as a dove and your kisses become more passionate as moans escape your parted lips. You hold eye contact with him without fear, without disgust, without judgment. He can’t recall a time when even his fellow King’s Guard was able to look at him, let alone a woman. Everything about this is different. You are different.
You look at him with desire. It only makes him more eager to sink his cock into you. However, once the cloth falls away to reveal his fully naked form, you sit back on your heels with your feet folded beneath you. You sit with your spine perfectly straight and your hands resting on your knees. You look more like a high born lady than a common whore. So submissive and pretty. “You’re waiting for my command, aren’t you?” His hand comes down to wrap around the length of his aching cock. Your eyes dart to the movement of his hand. You seem transfixed but still manage to respond, “My sole purpose is to give my Master pleasure. I’m your property to do with as you please.”
“My property?” he breathes and starts to slowly stroke himself. He does this more to tease you than himself. It clearly works because you only seem able to nod. A sly grin comes across his features. “You’re my property,” he repeats, louder to refocus you. “A beautiful…little thing…that belongs to me.” Sandor pants between words, stroking himself with a firmer grip.
“Yes, Master,” you moan with a lick of your lips. “I belong to you and only you.”
“Then be a good girl and come suck your Master’s cock.” You rise onto your knees so fast that you almost take him by surprise. Within moments, you’re pushing his hand away and wrapping your own around the base while your tongue traces over the veins in his shaft. “Your cock is so thick,” you moan out. Sandor isn’t sure if you meant to say that out loud but it hardly matters once you wrap your lips around the head of his cock. Your hand and mouth work in tandem—tugging firmly while lovingly sucking. That is…until you drop your hand away and swallow his cock whole. “Fucking Hells,” he swears and involuntarily bucks his hips forward. You hum, tightening your lips around his thickness as you pick up the pace and bob your head up and down. He watches you intently. Dark brown irises burn with lust as you suck him off like your life depended on it. “Filthy thing is enjoying this, isn’t she?” he pants, dick stiffening and pulsing in your mouth.
You nod with a happy little hum, and Sandor can’t fight the smile that tugs at the corners of his scarred lips. Your mouth is warm and so fucking inviting, like his cock was always meant to be there. He wants more. His hand shoots out to grip the back of your head as thick fingers tangle in the locks of your hair. He moves you up and down at just the right pace. You obey his physical command, allowing him to fuck your mouth while you drool all over him. Sandor is by no means a small man and his cock is no different, but you handle it with skill. The sloppy, wet sounds of you sucking with such enthusiasm makes him feel drunk. The pleasure courses through him, all the way down to his toes. It’s almost too much. And your big, beautiful eyes don’t make it any easier. They’re full of affection while unshed tears prickle at the corners of your eyes from how wide your mouth is stretched open. He slams his cock into your throat, hitting as deeply as you can possibly take him. Your hands and nails dig into his thighs to hold yourself steady. “That’s it,” he grunts, “take it.” You moan and gag with your brows knit together. He would have thought you were in pain if it wasn’t for the blissed expression on your face.
Sandor takes all of you in, wanting to commit the image of you gagging on his cock to memory. So that when you were gone, he’d at least still have that. But that’s when he catches sight of you pressing your thighs together. The blood in his veins sings. You’re getting off on this.
On pleasing him. On having his cock in your mouth. On obeying. Suddenly, having you down on the ground isn’t enough. He forcefully pulls away, slipping his cock out of your mouth. You whine at the loss and lean forward to try and get him back in your mouth, but not even your alluring mouth will keep a man like The Hound from getting what he wants. Bending at the waist, he shoves his hands under your armpits and lifts you up from the ground before throwing you onto his bed. You yelp when your back hits the mattress. Sandor simply grins at your shock from being so easily manhandled. “Is that cunt as pretty as your face, girl?” Blood rushes to your cheeks, coloring them, but still you open your legs, baring yourself. You’re a soaking, dripping mess. He’s certain he’s never seen a cunt as wet as yours is right now. It makes his throat feel dry…and in desperate need of a drink. Not willing to wait any longer, Sandor sinks to his knees and dives his face between your thighs. His tongue drags along your folds before it grazes your clit. Even at the slightest touch, you sigh and arch into his mouth. “More. Please, give me more.” Your pleas are sweet. So sweet that he’s no longer interested in teasing. He repeats the movement of his tongue but this time uses the flat of it to press firmer against your sensitive bud. You cry out, thighs closing tightly around his head. Sandor grunts, his arms sliding under your legs. He curls them around your thighs and uses his hands to keep your legs apart. With your movements restricted, he smashes his mouth against your clit. His lips wrap around it and suck. You buck and manage to throw a leg over his shoulder. Your foot presses against his broad back, using it as leverage to grind your hips towards his mouth. He smirks, proud that he’s the one eliciting such a response from you. While it’s true he rarely spends his coin on whores, this skill was something he learned long before his days at King’s Landing. In his youth, there had been a servant girl who worked in the kitchens. They had grown up together and thus she hadn’t ever feared his burned face. Exploring one another's bodies had felt natural. That’s how Sandor became acquainted with the taste of women. Once upon a time, they might have been married…if Gregor hadn’t found out and killed her in a jealous rage. Sandor forces the past from his mind. There’s no use in it when he has your cunt filling his senses. He savors the taste on his tongue, using it to flick your clit while sucking on it. You continue to buck and cry out, the pleasure clearly building for you. But he doesn’t want you reaching your peak just yet. He moves away, only slightly. His saliva mixes with your slick. They drip together making you all the more wet. It’s a delicious sight.
“Messy thing,” he praises, and he can feel the way your toes curl against his back. “You know,” he continues, “I usually spend my nights drinking but you’ve interrupted that.” Purposely, he pauses, letting you think he’s actually upset. You whimper, ready to apologize but Sandor speaks over you, his voice huskier than before. “Are you going to make it up to me, girl? And give me something else to drink?” You stumble over your words but still manage to speak, “Y-Yes Master, anything.”
Sandor hums from the back of his throat and swipes your clit with his tongue before answering. “Then be a good little slut and cum on my tongue.” Not bothering to wait for a reply, he runs his tongue to your slit, gathering more juices along the way. He probes your entrance before letting it fill you. You gasp in time with his moan. No longer can he taste the wine he was previously drinking. His taste buds are filled with nothing but your cunt. He vigorously pumps his tongue in and out of you. Your hands find his head, fingers tangle in hair in an attempt to tug him in deeper. “Fuckkkk, you’re so good with your tongue, Master!” Usually Sandor hates being touched without permission, but you’re so desperate it feels like he’d be committing a sin if he stopped you.
Besides, you’re dripping down his chin and giving him exactly what he wanted—a drink. But like a man starved, he wants more. He presses his thumb to your clit to stroke it. You throw your head back and sing. It’s the purest music he’s ever heard.
The louder you moan, the harder his cock throbs.
For the next few moments, the only sounds are your cries of pleasure and his grunts against your core.
It isn’t long before you start trembling, to the point that even your inner thighs shake.
“I…I’m going to–”
You don’t need to finish your sentence for Sandor to know that you’re about to cum. He doesn’t let up the movements of his tongue or the pressure to your clit but still you try to force words out of your mouth. “P-Please. Please can I–?” Realization flashes through him. You were asking for permission to cum. Why you think you needed to ask, Sandor doesn’t know, but Gods if it isn’t the most erotic fucking thing. He moves away just enough to speak. “Go on, girl. Give me what I want and cum.” His tongue plunges back into your depths and you spasm around it. When your orgasm hits, your entire body goes rigid and breathy, unrestrained moans bleed from your throat. His cock twitches wildly in response, precum surely dripping onto the stone floor he’s kneeling on. You’ve coated his tongue with your juices, making Sandor wonder if you’ll do the same to his cock. He works you through your aftershocks while drinking from you, licking up every drop he can. It's only when you fall limply back onto the mattress that he stops and removes his tongue and fingers from you. He sits back to look you over. You’re even more beautiful with a flushed face and glossed over eyes.
“Thank you for letting me cum, Master,” you murmur politely.
And just when he thought you couldn’t be any more perfect. Rising onto the bed, he grabs you by the back of the neck and hauls you towards him. His mouth crashes onto yours, forcing his tongue past your parted lips.
You return the kiss in a flurry of passion while your hands roam freely over his body. Starting from his shoulder, you trail your hands down his bare chest to his hip bones. He moans into your kiss, enjoying the feeling of your soft hands and the way you gently suck at his tongue.
Your hands continue downward until your fingertips brush against his still very hard cock.
He breaks the kiss with a smirk. “Something you want, Little One?” You brush your lips against his with a nod. “Make me belong to you.” “I thought you already did,” he teases gruffly with his hot breath in your face. “You’re my property, remember?” Color blooms across your cheeks, but whether it’s in satisfaction or embarrassment, Sandor isn’t sure. “I am. I belong to you, Lord Hound. I’m your—” He barks over you, cutting you off. “What did I say about that ‘my lord’ shit?” You instantly close your mouth, lips pressing into a thin line at your mistake. Fucking hells. He wanted to fuck you, not scold you. Sandor lets out a breath and forces himself to soften his tone. “I don’t need fancy titles, my name is good enough.” Your expression falls, the color draining from your cheeks. “King Joffrey only referred to you as ‘The Hound’. Is…Is that not your name?” You look upset, bordering on mortified but Sandor can’t stop the gruff laugh that bubbles from his chest.
“I should have known that slimy little bastard would pull something like that.” You look thoroughly confused. His dark eyes look you over, your once pliable body now stiff as stone. However, it’s the ribbon of his house sigil that catches his attention. It doesn’t have the same appeal now that he knows you don’t know what it means. “And I’m guessing he didn’t tell you the meaning behind this?” he questions bitterly and starts untying it from around your neck. You shake your head ‘no’. “Just that it would please you to see me wear it.” He pulls the ribbon free, but before he can toss it away, you grip his large hand with both of yours. “Tell me? Please, Master, I want to know.” You ask so sincerely that it halts his movements. Your eyes meet, and all his willpower leaves him. “It’s the sigil for my house.” “House?” you prompt in hopes he’ll continue.
“Clegane.” You smile bright, repeating after him so you could lock the information away forever. Sandor, on the other hand, is too distracted by the new rush of blood that pumps down to his groin. When he doesn’t say anything else, you squeeze his hand gently. “And my Master’s given name?” “Sandor.” “Sandor.” You take your time saying it, as if tasting his name on your tongue. “Sandor Clegane,” you whisper with a smirk, noticing how he starts leaning in closer. He doesn’t stop, forcing you to shift your position and slowly lay back onto the bed. “Master Sandor.” You moan and he growls. Your legs part to accommodate him and he places a hand beside your head, trapping you beneath him. “You don’t need to call me Master.” Your smirk widens. “But you like it when I do.” He huffs because you’re right. “Fucking vixen,” he snarls and kisses you hard. Your arms wrap around his broad shoulders and your legs hike up to his hips, allowing his cock to press against your core. You’re still so warm and wet that it’s almost painful to not plunge himself inside. And maybe he would have if you hadn’t been so smug just now. “Beg,” he commands, while the hand not holding him up grips your neck. “And tell your Master what you want.” His fingers wrap effortlessly around your throat. He doesn’t do this to hurt you, just to apply enough pressure so you know who’s in charge. To his surprise, you moan and tilt your head back to give him better access. “That’s better,” he coos and rewards you by running his tongue from your jawline to the shell of your ear. “Brat just needed to be put back in her place, didn’t she?” His hot breath in your ear gives you goosebumps. “Yes, Master. I’m sorry, Master.” “Then prove it.” He gives your throat another squeeze before releasing it. “I’ll behave, I swear.” Your hands run from his forearms, over his muscular shoulders and down his chest until the swell of your breasts are pressed against him. “I just want my Master to claim me. Want to feel him inside.” You pause and rock your hips forward to grind your cunt against his length. “Please, Sandor? Please fuck me.” It’s his name that does him in. He isn’t used hearing it, let alone someone saying it while asking him to fuck them. He straightens his back and guides your legs to fully wrap around his waist. You continue pleading but instead of giving you a verbal reply, he plunges balls deep inside of you. You both instantly tense. He, because of the tightness of your walls clinging around him, and you, because of the sudden intrusion of his cock demanding to be taken. “That’s it. Taking me so well,” he breathlessly praises, slowly moving out, then back in so you’d have time to adjust. He breathes out, watching his cock glisten from your juices when he pulls out a bit. Your head lulls to the side with a moan, feeling beyond stuffed full but also whole.
“Is this what you wanted, girl? To be speared on my cock and used?” “Yes!” you cry, trying to arch back to get his cock deeper. “Please use me. Ruin me for anyone else.”
At that, he slams into you, not being able to wait any longer. You yelp at the pressure, screaming and twisting your fists into the bedsheets. There’s no way he could keep his pace slow, not when you feel this good melting around his cock.
You had said you wanted to be ruined. Sandor Celegane might not be a lord, or a knight, or a gentleman, but he could most certainly ruin you with his cock.
He repositions your legs, throwing them over his shoulders so that your feet are by his ears. He’s able to fuck you even deeper now, his balls smacking against you with every brutal thrust.
His rhythm is rough and steady. And with how tightly he holds your legs in place, you can do nothing but lay there moaning and clenching around him.
“You’ll never forget this. When the next flimsy little knight comes along to fuck you, it’ll be my cock you think about.”
Your eyes screw shut, the pleasure building in your lower belly. It feels like he’s everywhere, filling your cunt and taking over your mind and body. How you manage to nod in response is beyond you. But a nod isn’t good enough.
“Say. It,” he snarls, punctuating his words with even deeper thrusts. You curl your toes with a whine. “It’ll be your cock, Master! Only your cock.” “Mhmm, good girl.” He looks down at where your bodies are joined and sees his cock, hard, ribbed with veins and coated in your juices as it thrusts in and out of your wet hole. It’s a glorious sight and it has his orgasm threatening to hit, but there’s something he has to do first. And that’s making you cum. He reaches between your bodies and easily finds your clit. He rubs it, strokes it, and draws circles on it until he finds the touch that has you babbling in broken, indecipherable sentences.
“I want you to cum,” he speaks in labored breathing, rubbing your clit while still spearing you on his length. “I want you to cum for me now. ”
For a moment, you fall completely silent, but then it hits. The unfiltered, beautiful howls that accompany your climax. All the while your inner walls close around him in the most delicious way.
He curses, lurching forward as you gush and spasm all over him. It’s too much and he’s quickly following you over the edge, filling you with his cum. Like a cat having their head scratched, an almost purring like sound leaves you at the feeling of him filling you with his seed. It has Sandor feeling dazed as to why that would please you, but his focus is on steadying his breathing as he comes down from cumming for the first time in fuck knows how long. Your breathing is also labored, while your eyes struggle to stay open. It’s clear you’re fighting off sleep. He carefully slips out of you, even more careful not to jostle you as he sits on the edge of the bed. He finds his wineskin from earlier by the foot of the bed. Greedily, he drinks from it until his throat no longer feels dry. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches sight of your naked form. If he was this thirsty, then your throat must be raw after all that screaming. He reaches for you, tugging you into his arms to help you sit up. You whine, eyes fluttering open, but relax when he pulls you to sit between his thighs and leans you against his chest. “Here, this will help soothe your throat.” He hands you the wineskin, which you graciously take. Sandor watches you take long, slow sips. A drop slips past your mouth and drips down your chin to land on your breast. He grins. He likes a woman who doesn't mind getting dirty. You’re just as beautiful now as you were when he first walked in to you demurely sitting on the floor. “Will you tell me your name?”
You lower the wineskin from your lips and say it with a smile. This time it’s he who repeats you, liking the way it rolls off his tongue. You nod, smiling at him before taking another drink. He stands and starts making his way to the basin of water set on a small table in the corner of the room. “Drink as much as you like. I can get more,” he says from over his shoulder as he starts washing away the sweat on his chest and the slick that you’ve managed to coat even his balls in. Afterwards, he puts on a pair of lightweight sleep pants. When he turns back to you, he expects to find you still drinking or dressing, but instead he finds you sitting on his bed and watching him. “Where are your nightclothes?” You fidget uncomfortably, looking away. Sandor grunts under his breath, he should have known this wouldn’t last. “If you don’t wish to stay, then just say so.” The bite in his voice is evident and you snap your head up in his direction. “I-It’s not that!” you protest. “I want to stay. I just…don’t have any clothes.” His brows pull together in confusion, “Joffrey didn’t leave your clothes here for you?” You shake your head ‘no’. That angers him. Joffrey was a callous shit but to leave you with nothing was just cruel. “No personal belongings? How the fuck did he expect you to get home after this?” You flinch, once again looking away. “The King said….” you trail off. “Nevermind, Master.” Your discomfort radiates off of you. Quietly, he fishes out a clean shirt out of a trunk at the end of the bed and makes his way over to you. “Arms up, Little One.”
You lift your head and see the shirt in his hands. You obey and he slips the shirt over your head and helps you dress. “This damn thing is going to look more like a dress on you, but it’ll do until morning.” You pull your knees to your chest while muttering a ‘thank you’. There’s still something bothering you and Sandor is determined to figure out what it is. “Look at me,” he commands, knowing you’ll obey. You do and he continues. “Do you know why they call me ‘The Hound’?” You stare at him in fascination and shake your head. “Because I can smell a lie as easily as I can breathe. So out with it. What’s upsetting you?”
You gnaw on your bottom lip before responding. “King Joffrey told me I didn’t need to pack anything because he bought me from the keeper of the pleasure house. He…” You falter, trying to find the bravery to continue. “He said that if you didn’t wish to keep me once we were through, that he’d pass me around to his other guards until they used me up. Or that maybe he’d kill me himself.” Rage boils in his blood. Not only because Joffrey put you through hell, but because he suddenly can’t bear the thought of another having you. “No one is going to touch what’s mine.” The threat of his words hangs in the air but you look relieved. “You…You mean you’ll keep me here with you?” Sandor nearly chokes because he hadn’t thought that far ahead. All he knew is that he didn’t want Joffrey or any other to get their hands on you. “Is…Is that what you want?” You smile bright, brighter than the summer’s sun. “Nothing would make me happier, Master.” As beautiful as you are, and as lovely as it sounds to have a warm cunt to bury himself in each night, the cold blade of reality cuts through. “Well don’t go making it sound like it’ll be all sunshine and lemoncakes. I’m not by any means a joy to live with and—” But you aren’t listening because you’re too busy crawling into his lap. You straddle him and nuzzle your face into the side of his neck. “Thank you, Sandor,” you whisper against his skin, melting against his body as you make yourself comfortable. No one had ever thanked him in his entire life. He isn’t sure how to handle it. The longer you lay against him, the more a warmth blooms inside his breastbone. He likes the way it feels having you close. It makes him feel things. Things he doesn’t have a name for. You let out a small sigh, seemingly starting to fall asleep while sitting up. He shifts and lays down on the bed with you still tucked against his chest.
There was no way of knowing what the future held, but Sandor Celange did know one thing….. This was the best damn present he’d ever received.
This is sooooo hot🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵
"Jealous."
Link to my masterlist
Author: hola! I'm so happy you guys are enjoying my fics. I'm very thankful for the support🫶🏻 It's taken me a while to write this, but I think I like how it's turned out. I decided to add prompt 51 since it went well with the story. I hope you like it! Do let me know🥰
Request: Your stuff is seriously sooooo good. Absolutely adorable and then some 🥰💘 Maybe something angsty and fluffy with [69] and [74]. Like a jealous argument that ends all sweet and happy?
Prompts:
69. desperate, needy and forgiving kisses with [character] after a bad argument/fighting.
74. “oh my god– are you... jealous?”
51. [character] get jealous because they think someone is flirting with you, but it's actually a relative they didn't know about and the two of you have re-encountered with each other after a long time.
When your father told you that your cousin Eric was visiting, you couldn't believe it. The last time you saw him, you must have been around 14 or 15. He was a Tully, not a Stark, but he stayed with you and your siblings in Winterfell for around a year. You guys had a great relationship. He treated you like a sister, and you treated him like a brother.
Now, he was visiting Kings Landing for some trading matter.
You ask your father to tell Eric to meet you by the gardens after his meeting. You're wandering along them, waiting for him, when you hear a familiar voice.
"Bug!" Eric calls you, using the nickname he gave you when you were kids. "Or should I say Lady Y/N?"
You turn around to find a handsome young man in his late twenties. His face remains the same, though, his copper hair on his face and a dimple on his right cheek.
"Eric!" You smile. "Look at you."
"I could say the same about you. You've grown, bug." He smiles as well. "Come here." He says, opening his arms.
You hug him joyfully. "Gods, I can't believe it's been so long." You hear him say.
When you separate, he keeps an arm around your shoulders.
"Let's walk." You say, smiling. "I'm sure you have many things to tell me."
Sandor enters the gardens following the Prince. He stops abruptly when he looks at his left and spots you smiling at a man he doesn't know, his arm around you. You look at him smiling, say something, and start walking with him.
It makes his blood boil. This is what you were doing while he was working? When he's decided he's going to approach you and kill that fucker, he hears the Prince's voice.
"Come, dog." He says, motioning for the opposite direction.
He gulps, trying to calm down, and follows Joffrey.
It's earlier than usual for Sandor to come to your chambers, so the knock on your door surprises you. You open it to find Sandor with a cold stare. It's not his usual angry because of Joffrey face, though. Something's different tonight.
"Sandor!" You say, still a bit surprised.
"Aye." He grunts. "Oh, maybe you were expecting someone else?" His stare is cold as he walks in.
"What do you mean?" You say, frowning while you close your door.
"Oh, you know what I mean." He says.
You stare at him, one of your eyebrows up in your forehead.
"The redhead cunt you were having so much fun with before." He groans.
You can't believe what you're hearing. "Sandor, what..." You exclaim. "Oh gods, are you...jealous?"
He doesn't answer, looking away from you.
"I can't believe you're being a fucking kid about this." You mumble, shaking your head.
"What did he tell you, eh?" He says with a cold voice. "Promised you a bunch of fucking things, I'm sure. I bet he can give you much more than me."
"I truly can't believe this is happening." You sigh in disbelief. "Do you really think so poorly of me?"
"He was fucking hugging you, Y/N." He groans. "Do you think I didn't see you? You were all smiles. Fucking walking with him. Did you tell him all about yourself? Let him fucking court you?"
You snort, truly not believing his behavior.
"You find it fucking funny?" He asks, raising his voice.
"No, Sandor." You say. "I find it fucking sad."
His face turns into confusion.
"I find it sad that you think that I would just forget about you, about everything we've been through. You don't trust me." Your voice is harsh.
"I know what I saw." He groans.
"He's my fucking cousin!" You shout. "You're here being a fucking asshole about me hugging my cousin!"
His face suddenly changes, realization hitting him.
"Your cousin?" He asks, his voice much lower now.
"Yes, Sandor. My cousin." You say, irritated. "I don't..." Your voice breaks. "I don't know what we're doing together if you're not able to trust me." Your voice had gone from angry to sad.
"Y/N..." He says, taking a step towards you.
"Leave." You hiss.
"Love.. " He tries.
"Don't." You say, sending him a death stare. "Just go, Sandor. I need to think."
He looks at you, sadness now in his eyes, before turning and leaving your chambers. You fall asleep with tears in your eyes that night.
The next morning, when you open your door, you find a set of candles, which Sandor knows you love, and a note in his handwriting.
You take the candles inside and read the note: "I'm sorry. I love you."
It makes you think about what happened yesterday again. You stand by what you said. He needs to trust you if you want your relationship to work. Nevertheless, you have to admit you don't know how you've reacted if it was him instead of you. You want to think you would have asked him about it, but sometimes jealousy can get the worst of someone.
When you see him later that day, every bit of you that was still angry goes away. He gives you his best puppy eyes, and you smile at him. You give him a little nod, and he understands what that means.
That night, when you hear the knock, you open the door with a soft smile. After closing it, Sandor suddenly throws his arms around you.
"I'm sorry, love." He whispers against your hair. "I was an immature cunt."
You hug him back, putting your head on his chest.
"It's alright." You mumble. "Just... Give me some credit."
"I will." He says, pulling back to look at you. "I love you, Y/N."
"I love you too." You say, caressing his face. "Now kiss me, you idiot."
He smiles, leaning in and crashing his lips against yours. His forgiving kisses soon turn desperate, needy.
"Sandor?" You moan.
He pulls back a bit. "Hmmm?"
"Make it up to me." You say, smirking.
He smiles mischievously, picking you up and throwing you on the bed. And gods, he does.
Taglist: @broadsdrinkwhisky @malkaviangirl if you wanna be in it let me know💖
"Love."
Link to my masterlist
Author: hola! I'm very happy I'm getting requests and you guys like what I write. I'm using this one to kind of complete my little series "Fucked". Thank you so much for being there!!💖
Prior parts to this here
Request: Ugh, I absolutely loved your fics. If it’s not too much trouble, could you write something with prompts 24 and 26?
24. [character] slightly tilting your chin to make you look up at them when you lower your gaze out of shyness.
26. “you look pretty when you blush. Do it more often.”
A few weeks later, Y/N got the news from his father. She was moving to Kings Landing with him. That also meant moving to the place where Sandor had to be, so it made things a lot easier. She couldn't wait to tell him.
That night, when she hears the knock on her door, she practically runs to open it. Once Sandor is inside, she jumps into his arms, kissing all around his face.
"What is going on?" He asks, laughing. "What's all that for?"
"I'm moving to Kings Landing!" She exclaims. "My father agreed to be the Hand of the King, and he's taking us with him."
His eyebrows raise in surprise. "Really?" He says, still in shock. He wouldn't have to leave you.
"Yes!!!!!" She says, laughing and kissing him on the lips for the first time that night.
He kisses her back, setting her on the ground when the kiss breaks.
"This is by far the best news I could have gotten today, little wolf." He says, smiling softly.
"I know." She cheers. "I couldn't even imagine you leaving. Loving you is the only good part of my life."
His eyebrows raise in surprise for the second time that night. She loves him?
Staring at his face, she suddenly realizes what she has said. She starts fidgeting, looking at him nervously.
"Oh Gods, I'm sorry." She says. "I know you may not feel the same or be ready to say it and you don't have to and I don't want you to just because I..." She talks so fast he's struggling to understand what she's saying.
Sandor slightly tilts her chin to make her look up at him when she lowers her gaze out of shyness while she's speaking.
"Y/N, I love you." He whispers. "I didn't even know I was capable of love, but there's no other explanation for this." He continues. "I can't stand the thought of being apart from you. I think of you day and night. The thought of you getting hurt is more painful than any harm I've ever received. If this is not love, I don't know what the fuck it is."
She blushes. "That is the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me."
He smiles. "You look pretty when you blush, do it more often."
She blushes harder, what makes him laugh, taking her into his arms.
"I mean it, little wolf." He mumbles against her hair after kissing it. "I'd do anything you ask me to."
She looks up at him, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him. He hums, kissing her back.
"I love you, Sandor." She whispers.
"I love you too, little wolf." He says against her mouth.
As he holds her, there's one thing that she's certain about: as long as they're together, it will be alright.
Hope you liked it!!🫶🏻
Taglist: @broadsdrinkwhisky
Hi :).
Ugh, I absolutely loved your fics. If it’s not too much trouble, could you write something with prompts 24 and 26?
hope youre having a good day!💕✨
Yessss! Will be posting now. I used your request to complete my series "Fucked", I hope you don't mind!!
"Protected."
Link to my masterlist
Author: soooo this is my first request! Thank you sm for asking! I hope this is alright! As you can see, reader is also a Stark but this is not part of my series "Fucked". I hope you enjoy it!!💖
Request: Prompt 13 and 23 would he so cute together! Maybe like an arranged marriage🤭 I would love to see what you could come up with 💕
13. “what are you doing in my room?” “oh, you mean, our room?”
23. “and who are you to tell me who i can and can't be with?” “i'm your future husband, and probably, father of your future children.”
When your father told you and your little sisters you were moving to Kings Landing with him, you were less than thrilled. Arya could take it. She's a witty girl. Sansa, though, was an innocent bird, and she had been promised to the prince, the little fucker. You knew you needed to be there for her until she could be there for herself.
The days in Kings Landing were exhausting. You were always looking over Sansa, which meant spending time with the hateful prince as well. The only positive thing about it was getting to know the prince's guard, Sandor. He was quite dry with you at first, but you didn't mind, continuing to be the chatty girl you've always been. He pretended not to listen to you, but he always asked something if you didn't talk, which didn't fail to make you smile. You developed an interesting relationship. He took care of Sansa when you couldn't, and you soon realized he cared more for both of you than he would admit.
After your father's execution, Arya was nowhere to be seen. The now King took pleasure in torturing everyone, but specifically your sister. The second time he decided to take her to admire your father's head on a spike, you couldn't take it anymore.
"Do you really enjoy this?" You hiss, holding your sister as she cries. "You're a monster."
"How dare you disrespect your King? You fucking whore!" He shouts. "DOG!" He motions for Sandor. "Take her to the Great Hall. I'll decide what I do with her on my way there."
Sandor looks at you, anger in his eyes.
"C'mon." He grunts, pushing you slightly.
Halfway through, he stops abruptly.
"Are you out of your fucking mind?" He barks. "I can't protect you from the King if you're fucking insulting him in his presence."
"I know!" You groan, still pissed. "I know. Couldn't help it. He's cruel, Sandor. She's just a kid."
"Yes, he's fucking cruel. He's also the fucking King!" The look in Sandor's eyes is a mix of anger and pain.
"When he kills me," You start, and he clenches his jaw. "Take care of Sansa." Your eyes fill with tears.
"He won't kill you." Sandor says and starts walking again.
You arrive at the Great Hall, and ten minutes later, so does the King.
"My King." You try as he's sitting on his throne.
"Shup up!" He says. "You don't get to talk."
You stay still, remaining silent.
"I wanted to execute you, put your head next to your traitorous father's. My mother has advised against it." You sigh, thanking the Gods for Cersei in that very moment. Sandor does the same at his spot.
"Nevertheless, you did insult me, so this cannot remain unpunished." The King continues. "If I recall, you called me 'monster'. You're going to know a real monster." He shows an evil smile. "DOG!" He shouts.
Sandor looks at him confused. "Your Grace?"
You look at Sandor out of the corner of your eye.
"Here!" He says, motioning for you. "Come here."
He does as he is told, standing next to you.
"Lady Y/N, here's your monster." Joffrey says, delighted. "You're to marry the Hound."
You walk back to your chambers, very confused. You thought you were dying today. Instead, you're getting married. You're marrying not other than Sandor Clegane. It could be worse, but you're certainly shocked.
You get to your chambers, going directly to the table and pouring a cup of wine.
The door suddenly opens, and you see Sandor stepping inside and closing it.
"What are you doing in my room?" You ask, still a bit shocked.
"Oh, you mean our room?" He says, irony evident in his voice. "What the fuck was that?"
"The hell I know." Yoy say, sipping your wine.
"It's a bit early to drink, don't you think?" He seems amused.
"Fuck off." You mumble, which makes him smirk.
"Look, I know this is not what you dreamed of when you were a child," He starts. "A beautiful lady marrying an old ugly dog."
"You're not." You interrupts him, but he stops you again. Does he think you're beautiful?
"I don’t need you to lie to me, girl. I know what I look like."
"Will you shut up?" You say, walking towards him. "I was a bit shocked because I thought I was going to die, and the marriage news got me by surprise."
He stands there, looking at you.
"That said, if I have to marry someone in this shithole, it would be you." You continue, to which he frowns. "You're the only person here who was been kind to me, at least in your own way. You've protected me and my sisters. You're a survivor, just like us." Hiz gaze softens at that. "And, even if you may not believe it, you're unconventionally attractive." You smirk.
He shows the shadow of a smile. "It's not like you have a choice." He says softly. "I will protect you. I will take care of you. I promise."
You take his massive hand in yours. "I know you will." He pulls you into his chest, his arms around you.
You stay like that for a few seconds, until he hears you mumble against his chest. "If you fail to protect me, I can always marry Ser Meryn Trant." You tease, knowing how much he hates him.
He grunts. "You're not even talking to that fucker again."
You laugh against him. "And who are you to tell me who I can and can't be with?" You say, smirking.
He grunts again, which makes you laugh. He moves you to the wall so you're pressed against it, your faces dangerously close.
"I'm your future husband," He groans against your mouth. "And probably, father of your future children.”
You feel butterflies in your stomach, fighting the urge to kiss him and deciding to tease him a bit longer.
"That so?" You say, smirking.
You hear him say "Mine." before he presses his mouth against yours.
PD: I'm starting a tag list, if you wanna be in it, let me know🫶🏻
Prompt 13 and 23 would he so cute together! Maybe like an arranged marriage🤭 I would love to see what you could come up with 💕
Yesssss!!! Will start to work on that asap🫶🏻
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