#sandor clegane drabble

[rax-writes]

↬ in the middle of the night

Sandor Clegane x Reader

Warnings: None

Something awoke you from a deep slumber. Perhaps it was the Mother herself, you thought, because when you opened your eyes, they slowly focused on your husband, who was standing in the middle of the room, his silhouette illuminated by a couple of candles and the sliver of morning sunlight peeking over the horizon.

Sandor’s back was to you as he stared at the cradle at the foot of your shared bed, fully clothed in his leathers and his sword strapped to his waist. When he heard you stir, he spoke, but did not turn to face you.

“I should go with them. Go kill my brother,” he said with a humorless laugh. “Gods know I’m the only one who could end that evil bastard.”

You said nothing, so after a few moments, he continued – and you could swear you heard him sniffle faintly before speaking.

“But I just keep staring at this little fucker here, and… I can’t. I can’t bring myself to walk out that door – knowing I’d never see him, or you, again. Knowing I’d be condemning him to grow up without a father. Knowing that me walking out on him makes me no better than my father – who abandoned me to protect Gregor.”

A little noise from the dark-haired babe in the cradle prompted another, louder sniffle from Sandor this time. There was another pause, followed by an agitated, “Damn it all.”

The Hound then began hurriedly prying off his sword, outerwear, and boots, letting it all fall carelessly to the floor before climbing into bed with you. When he rested his head on your chest and wrapped his big arms around your torso, you noticed his face was wet, and he sniffled quietly a few more times. You pressed a kiss to his forehead, the feeling of the scarred flesh so familiar to you now.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“For what?” Sandor grumbled.

“For staying with us.”

He let out a heavy sigh, and although he did not respond, he gave you a squeeze in response. Sandor’s breathing slowed as you gently scratched your nails up and down his back, and when you heard a snore, you knew he was asleep. Soon after one last kiss to his forehead, you joined him in sleep.

[luxbub]

sandor clegane x stark!reader pt.1

a/n: i actually hate this but i needed an escape from my writing slump, also ignore the fact that i frogot half of my vocabulary ( not proofread )

Sandor clegane whose face was the first one you saw when the king came to winterfall, his face— half covered by a helmet of a hound, with his teeth bared and scrunched up brows—burned from the left side made a grimace come over yours and yet when your eyes met you back shot up straight and a small smile graced your features.

Sandor clegane for who you circled the whole camp for while going to King’s Landing with your father. Even catching the smallest glimpse of his big frame and scowling face gave you enough satisfaction to go on about the day with a smile.

Sandor clegane who of course noticed the stark princess suddenly appearing everywhere he went. Stupid girl and her stupid smile was oblivious of the looks the troops gave her when her skirt swayed so deliciously as she trudged around the camp or when her corset was tightened more than usual and her cleavage looked ready to spill over the neckline of her dress.

Sandor clegane who never smiled before you and your backhanded comments to that cunt of a prince Joffrey appeared( it was never a big broad grin, only the right corner of his mouth lifted up just barely, but enough for you to notice).

Sandor clegane whose favourite place in whole of King’s Landing was a tavern far from the Red Keep, where he could drink his weight and more in wine.

Sandor clegane who you stumbled into one day while rushing through the halls of Red Keep. “My apologies, ser.” Not many women dared too look him in the eye; even the whores he payed, looked at their feet in his presence. Your eyes hypnotised him, the enthracing sound of your voice seemed to freeze him in his place before he answered. “I’m no ser, girl.” He grunted and stomped away, the clanking of his heavy armour being the only sound left echoing in the corridor.

Sandor clegane who had already drank two glasses when you walked through the door with a cloak and hood pulled up as if the filthy scum of flea bottom wouldn’t notice the shiny material of highborn clothes, weaving at your feet.

Sandor clegane who had noticed some of the dwellers visiting the tavern getting a little to close to you, so he stood up—the sound of his chair chirping the wooden floor, catching the attention of nearby drinkers—and marched up to your table, where you were giggling at a man whose hands were wandering too far south for sandor’s comfort. With each of his heavy steps towards you, your giggles seemed to get louder and louder and the man’s greasy hands go lower and lower.

Sandor clegane who stood there for a minute until you and that cunt noticed him. He could feel your stared burning a hole through his head, but dared not to look you in the eye and instead stared the filthy man down. In a matter of seconds he kneeled down and hauled you up on his shoulders, turning towards the exit. “What do you think you’re doing?” Your screeched with your head hanging upside down. From what Sandor remembers from your encounter your voice had not been as high as it was now, your head must have become pumped up with blood for the little time sandor has been having you hang over his shoulders. “What does it look like?” If you asked Sandor he wouldn’t be able to tell you why he did it, why his ears turned red the moment he noticed that you had found company, the moment the scum’s hands started wandering all over your body.

Sandor clegane who seemed to have painted a target on his back now with your little encounter in the tavern, from smiles he was now met with scowls and narrowed eyes. It all kept on going until your father was attacked in Flea Bottom, now it was you whose every move was watched and critiqued, it was you who had to be humiliated from the cunt Joffrey who became a King, it was you who had to see your father's head chopped off.

Sandor clegane who happened to be the only one you found comfort in, after he held you back from meeting the same fate as your father.

Sandor clegane who came to you first when he planned to run away from King’s Landing and it’s stupid King.

Sandor clegane who would not allow you to stay in the castle, so when you said that you couldn’t leave your sister alone, he proposed to take her with you. But when she declined, his knees felt ready to buckle. All this stress and all this torture, would be all for nothing if he couldn’t get you at least out of this hell. Your sister seemed to have noticed him and the absent distance between you two, and started begging you to leave, go without her, tell Robb about her, tell mother about her, but save yourself.

[poisonsage808]

ModernAU!Sandor Clegane x Reader (III)

trigger warnings: references to sex, drinking, swearing, gregor and gregor involved trauma, mentions of car crash, mentions of therapy, angst

• Sandor asks if you have allergies just to be extra sure you don’t die on his watch

• You may or may not be joking when you tell him sesame seeds because you send laughing emojis afterwards

• He’s not risking it, the seasoning is sealed into a plastic bag and put in the very back of the highest shelf of his kitchen

• Ends up glad he did, you’re very allergic to sesame seeds you just find the story behind it hilarious

• “I’m eating pasta and suddenly- hives! Mytongue was so swollen I couldn’t talk. The doctor does like three blood tests and can’t figure it out. Mom’s livid, she leaves and comes back with every ingredient for her pasta and has me eat it. Everyone was freaking out the whole time, my dad kept saying ‘who in the seven hell's allergic to that?’. I eat that tiny seed and blow up like a balloon again. When we got home I looked at my dad and said ‘who the fuck’s allergic to sesame seeds?’. First time ever he let me swear.”

• Sandor actually finds the story entertaining but he goes home and decides to throw out the seeds. Just to be extra, extra safe.

• It’s really cute how nervous you both are over the fact it’s a “date” and not a “hangout”. An actual for real life date!

• You’ve had exactly two serious partners before but something or the other led to a breakup. Then there wasn’t much time for dating in college, the one person you were into then didn’t want more from you than to “scratch an itch”

• Which is more what Sandor’s used to. One night stands, “friends” with benefits (benefits part was accurate at least) was his comfort zone but Sandor’s been on dates before! He can count them on one hand but hey, it’s more than he ever expected to receive

• You have a cheek hurting smile on your face when he opens the door and one reusable bag in each hand. Sandor steps back to let you inside, closing the door afterwards and following you into the kitchen.

• “Tell me ya didn’t carry all that with you on the bus.”

• (He’s offered to drive you around if he was able. He really hates knowing you rely on the bus at night, especially when you joke that you’re 99% confident you’re sitting next to a murderer. It’s the only time he doesn’t appreciate those jokes)

• “I didn’t,” You reassure him while placing the bags on the counter, “My roommate dropped me off.”

• Sandor grunts and steps directly behind you, his chest almost brushing against your back, so he can peer into the bags you’re unpacking. He can clearly see the red dusting your cheeks but doesn’t comment on it, which you’re grateful for. On his counter is two six packs of beer, a northern brand you’ve seen him drink before as well as a bottle of fruity, southern wine.

“You tryin’ to get me drunk?”

You scoff out a laugh, “Please, this isn’t even enough to get you tipsy.”

Finally you start to pull out a neatly wrapped box with a bow on top, shiny blue and greens.

“What’s this?” Sandor reaches for it and barks out in surprise when you smack his hand away.

“Your present— don’t you dare open it until I say so!” You demand while pointing a finger at him.

Now, Sandor didn’t like being told what to do… but he really liked when you were bold like that around him... so he rolls his eyes and surrenders his hands while he stalks further into the kitchen

• He lived in a single story house. Three closed doors, the one that was open was obviously a bathroom. The living room was adjacent to the kitchen, a black leather couch sat across from a fair sized tv. There was no dining table but the countertop had two barstools on the other side

• It was clean and very Sandor but very.. spacious. Empty. There were hardly any pictures or personal touches and that made your heart ache for inexplicable reasons

• The kitchen seems the most used out of everything else you’ve seen so you slink over to Sandor’s side.

• On the stove is a large pot that steams as he stirs its containments. Soup from what you can see, it’s colorful and smells amazing! You tell him so

• You occupy Sandor’s right side, he immediately knows that expression on your face means you want to ask him a question,

“Get no more than ten, make ‘em count.”

“How long have you been cooking?”

He hums, glancing at you then the clock on the oven, “An hour? Maybe.”

Your smile returns with a small giggle, “I meant, like, over your whole life.”

Sandor gives you a look that makes you feel smaller than you already are next to him, “No ya didn’t.”

You giggle and feign innocence. It doesn’t work so with a roll of your eyes and always that grin you admit, “No, I didn’t, but now I’m curious.”

“Always been good at it. Father said it was women’s work but,” The man talks as he carefully maneuvers around you, pulling open a drawer you stood in front of and plucking a metal spoon from it, “At the academy, there’s no women to cook. The boys take turns making meals.”

• (Sandor mentioned this before, the military academy he lived in from 14-18 years old, however it was the first time he’s ever brought up his father. He had to have one of course but sometimes you wondered if Sandor Clegane just appeared one day, he’s literally not once brought up his family!)

• You want to ask more but the minute you open your mouth, Sandor holds a spoonful of soup in front of your face. His palm hovers under your chin, to catch any drops but you’re painfully aware how he’s deliberately not touching you

“S’not poison,” He smirks, “Taste it.”

• You hate the way your knees go weak. Quickly you accept the sample and invite yourself to sit on the counter as he moves away

“Too spicy? Yer face is pretty red, killer.” Sandor chuckles and it makes your blush worsen.

• When you get control of yourself, you do tell him that it tastes amazing. He reaches over the counter with ease placing two full bowls beside each other then soon after a loaf of bread joins them

“Y’know it’s cheating if you bought the bread.”

Sandor sounds equally smug, “Didn’t cheat then.”

• He made bread. For you. Do you know how long it takes to do that!? Sandor Clegane baked bread for your date!

• You take pictures of the food before digging in. Sandor gives you a funny look about it and says, “Gettin’ that proof of your last meal, killer?”

Your grin widens at the nickname, “Hate to disappoint, but it looks really good and I wanted a picture— thank you, by the way.”

He shrugs like it wasn’t a big deal, “I take it you’re not a cook.”

“I’ll have you know I’m a pro at turning on my oven! Wait, that sounded dirty…” Sandor chuckles and shakes his head, “I just don’t have the time so I usually eat at work. Free bagels for breakfast and I’m at a job site with Dan, he caters for whoever’s there.”

“If you wanna keep that cafe job, y’might wanna stop stealin’,” He chides with a smirk, “Your boss already has it out for you.”

You laugh and cover your mouth to hide the fact you almost choked on the soup he made, “He won’t fire me, he probably won’t even let me quit! I’ll be chained up in the back and only let out to work morning shifts, slipping you notes to rescue me.”

Sandor snorts as he stands up and moves into the kitchen to get seconds and a drink. While on the other side of the counter, he opens the wine you brought but only pours one glass, setting it in front of you.

You exaggerate a gasp and cover your mouth to feign shock, “How the tables have turned!”

“Oh shut it.” He rolls his eyes and turns to his fridge so you can’t see his smirk.

• Sandor finds himself time and time again relieved that you understand his personality. There’s moments where his bark borderlines on an actual growl but you haven’t been deterred. Not yet anyways. It’s.. an odd but a welcome change.. kind of like you

• Dishes in the sink, two glasses of wine and four beers later, your questions have surpassed the limit of ten. Sandor unintentionally turned it into a drinking game, claiming it was the only way to tolerate your curiosity. It’s drink or answer and as suspected he’s much more sober than you at this point. You’re holding your alcohol well, calling yourself an open book and nibbling on bread to keep up.

You sat on opposite ends of his couch. You on the right, crossed legged, holding the cup with two hands to be extra cautious while Sandor leaned back in his spot, one long arm draped along the back of the couch and his other hand occupied by a full beer can.

Suddenly you gasp, “Lemme see an old picture of you!”

“That’s not a question,” Sandor muses, “and no.”

“Can I see one? Look, I’ll find one of me and it’ll be a fair trade!”

He wants to say no. He could say no. He’s never had trouble saying the fucking word before! Sandor hadn’t willingly taken a picture in years, the most recent one he had was taken at the DMV because it was mandatory. He knows you wouldn’t battle him or whine if he flat out declined but he doesn’t know why he can’t

“I’d.. have to look.” He scratches the scruff of his beard.

You had your phone out, scrolling deep through your camera roll when you noticed the energy in the room shift. You made him uncomfortable. Your grin faltered but you were determined to save the moment, dropping your phone to the space between you and waving your hand around. “Wait, I wanna change my question! What did you wanna be when you were younger?”

Sandor grimaces and takes a swig from the bottle he held. Another sore subject, nice going genius. Fuck. You chew the inside of your cheeks trying to think of how to fix this but Sandor interrupts your thoughts,

“Y’know, ya ask me a million questions a day and not once have you asked me about it.”

You don’t need elaboration to know he’s talking about his scar. Your brows pinch together and any traces of a smile officially disappear, “I figured you’d tell me if you wanted to.”

“‘n if I never wanted to?” His tone is bitter but not angry, “We’d just go on pretending it wasn’t there?”

You tap a finger against the glass before reaching for your phone, “I guess.. I kinda know what it feels like,” it takes less than a second to find the photo you were searching for and you hand it over to Sandor, “When people see you and make assumptions.”

He frowns at your reply but takes your phone and looks down at the picture you wanted him to see. The only familiar face is you, holding the handles of a wheelchair directly in front of you and sitting in it is a man.

“That’s my dad,” You point out. Sandor assumes and the woman standing to your right must be your mother, “I won’t pretend it’s the same at all but everyone would look at us like.. oh, poor (Y/L/N)’s. It.. sucked and I wasn’t even the one..” You sigh deeply and struggle to meet his eyes, “It sucked and I didn’t want to make you feel that way. I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to pretend your scar wasn’t there. I was hoping you would tell me if you ever decided to, I wanted to know you on your terms.”

You purse your lips to the side when Sandor hands your phone back to you. He breaks the silence by standing, “Wait here.” he commands softly. Something about his voice made you wonder if he thought you would leave.

Sandor takes his time in his room debating if he really wants to go through with this as he reaches into a tightly sealed plastic box. The night sure as hell couldn’t get any worse, why the fuck not he decides. So the man returns with a picture frame and offers it to you hesitantly, still standing. Young Sandor Clegane, 16 if you had to guess, in a perfectly pressed uniform and side cap, standing with his hands behind his back. The oldest in the picture, you assume is his dad, is on his left with a girl in a pale yellow dress. She’s the only one that's smiling, it’s weak but there. On Sandor’s right with a hand clasped on his shoulder is a man taller than everyone else.

He watches the way the corner of your lip quirks up as you study the picture. Sandor sits in the middle of the couch, still giving you a fair amount of space between you, and ghosts a finger above each person in the picture.

“My sister ‘n our father,” He hovers his index over the largest man and the name that comes is uttered with such hatred it freezes your blood, “That’s Gregor.”

From his other hand Sandor surrenders a faded polaroid, tinged with orange. The faces in it aren’t clear but you can make out the same people from above, this time everyone’s younger and a woman stands beside his father.

“Is that your mom?” You ask with a widening grin, “You look just like her.”

“Aye, that’s what everyone else said too. Gregor and Eleanor took after our father.”

Each blink you look between the pictures and your smile fades. In the older one, Sandor has no scar and a mother and in the other is the opposite.

“Mum knew somethin’ wasn’t right with him.” He sighs, “She tried tellin’ father but he wouldn’t listen, tried to take me and Eleanor one night but he stopped her. She left anyways.”

“I was six. I wanted to be a firefighter then, like Gregor did. He said we couldn’t both be.. said I didn’t have what it takes. One night Gregor waited ‘till our father and sister went to sleep, woke me up ‘n brought me into the yard. He lit a fire and just.. watched me try to put it out. When I realized I couldn’t, I went to get father and he grabbed me. Pushed me down and held my face in the fire ‘till father heard me screamin’.”

You stack the pictures over each other and slowly lean your head on Sandor’s shoulder. He turns his head slightly, looking down at you and somehow finds it easier to continue talking, “Father put it out and took me to the hospital. Told everyone I was playin’ with matches, started the fire got what I deserved. I hated my mum for leavin’ when she did but I took the first chance I got to do the same.”

You hear him tapping on the picture frame before your eyes fall to his hand, “This was the last time I saw my sister. Eleanor went missin’ then father died and left everything to Gregor... Just him and I now.”

“Sandor...” Your voice was so… soft and hesitant.

Anxious he’s heard you, irritated, flirtatious but gentle? Never before has Sandor Clegane felt the way he did when he felt your body shift beside him. Hovering over his lap now, you wrapped your arms around his neck and held onto him. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest and ringing in his ears, the lump in his throat that threatens to choke him and the unfamiliar sting in his eyes that he hasn’t felt in… Gods, when was the last time he cried?

“I’m so sorry they didn’t protect you, Sandor.” You whispered, chin on his shoulder.

Sandor’s breath hitches. He doesn’t know what to say or do but he doesn’t want you to go so he rests a hand on your back, “‘s fine.”

“It’s not but I know you’re only saying that ‘cause you’re done talking about it.”

You’ve been hanging around him too much if you know that. It’s uncomfortable talking about his past, his family and suddenly he feels immensely guilty for dumping it all onto you.

“Crappy first date, huh?”

“Shut up.” But your arms tighten around him and he can hear the weak smile in your voice.

Slowly yet all too soon you pull away to sit back on the couch, only this time with your thighs touching Sandor’s.

“Thank you for telling me. Have you told anyone else about that?” You ask carefully, unsure of how much more he would allow you to pry.

“My shrink,” he admits with another nervous scritch at his beard.

“Oh, that’s great—!” You slap a hand over your mouth, “Sorry, I just meant it’s great you have a therapist. Y’know because a lot of… I had one! I-I’ll just stop talking.”

Sandor eases your tension with a playful eye roll, “Don’t start now, I just got used to your yappin’.”

There’s an awkward but light chuckle shared between the two of you. Slowly you rest your head back against Sandor’s arm, “It’s not a crappy date, by the way. Well? I don’t think so. We never did small talk, it’s about time we told each other our tragic backstories.”

The man hums before lifting his arm to tuck you into his side, silently elated when you fold your legs under your butt and turn your body to lay your head on his chest, “Your turn then?”

“Mine is a lot shorter, it happened when I was still in highschool. Dad told me for weeks to take my car into the shop and I didn’t. It’s stupid looking back, I wish I listened and just did it the first time. Anyways, we argued, finally I said I’d go but he took the keys and said he'd do it himself.. and the brakes gave out on the way. A truck hit him and totaled the car. Mom and I waited in the hospital for hours until he was out of surgery. The doctor said he wouldn’t walk again and I, ugh, I vomited. The whole way up to see dad I was so sure he would say it’s all my fault, or I told you so… He said he was so glad it wasn’t me.”

You didn’t realize you’d been picking at your nails until Sandor’s spare hand came to stop it, gently engulfing your fingers into the warmth of his palm.

“Now you’re scared to drive.”

“Now I’m scared to drive. The whole thing fucked me up. I had a therapist too for a couple years but when I moved here I felt fine enough to stop calling.”

Sandor scoffs out a laugh, “Isn’t that their job to tell ya if you’re fine or not?”

Luckily you’re unphased by his possible insensitivity but do feign annoyance, “I see your point but I got a bunch of tools and exercises for my anxiety, I dealt with my guilt, I just don’t wanna drive. Plus, it’s not like I can never go back or change my mind.” Your eyes dart to where Sandor holds both your hands in one of his, “What about you?”

He shrugs, “I’ll quit when he tells me I’m cured.”

The giggle that bubbles from you is tired but genuine. Isn’t it funny how drained someone can get just from talking?

Sandor smiles though you can’t see, “Alright, killer. Can we get back to your game now?”

“You mean you still want to play after I just ruined our date with it? I thought you would’ve kicked me out by now.”

“Didn’t ruin it,” he squeezes your hands reassuringly.

• After that hiccup, the tension in the air evaporated as your night together went on. Cuddled up on Sandor’s couch, conversation flowed as naturally as it did between you two, what with you doing most of the chatting or asking questions. Occasionally there was a choppy tangent of another intimate detail from one of you but nothing quite as heavy as before

• Odd, Sandor kept thinking to himself. Odd but not so uncomfortable that he wished the couch would swallow him whole so he could get away from the topic. Not just yet was it a welcomed change but he’ll admit it was easier than it ever has been. Still he was careful not to overshare

• Around 9pm your roommate texted and said they were on the way to pick you up. Sandor helped you gather your things and swore for a second time that he wouldn’t open the gift you brought him. He walked you to the door when you spun on your heel to stop him from opening it. He knew that damn expression so well, he groans while you grin like a madman.

“Last question, I promise! What are my odds of getting a second date?”

“Depends… Do ya count a work party as a date?”

You grin, knowing exactly where this is going, “Absolutely I do. Especially if it involves softball and especially, especially if we’re on opposite teams.”

♡ [I], [II], [III]

[supernovadragoncat]

The Bridge

A little SanSan drabble inspired by Dolly Parton's "The Bridge"

I.

“You won’t tell my father,” Sansa says gently.

Sandor isn’t sure if it’s a question or a command. It has the texture of both and he can’t say how she intended to weave her words. She knows him well enough to know he’ll keep her secrets. He always has and he’s waited so long for her to ask him why.

The moonlight silvers her cheek and collects like a pool in her lap where she wrings her white lace gloves. She’s just had her eighteenth birthday. When he looks at her, he sees a woman where there once was a child. Her father, Sandor’s boss and the chief of police, would argue otherwise and had when Robert Baratheon’s boy turned his sights on Sansa. In the eyes of her father, she would always be too young for love.

Sandor doesn’t answer her. He taps the filter of his cigarette against the steering wheel and rolls down the window. Just ahead of them, beneath the tall stone bridge, the river water rushes along the rocky banks. Powerful and alluring, it’s always in turmoil.

“Joff intends to marry me,” Sansa tells him in one breathless go and lifts her right hand. “Look here.”

The ring is small and imperfect and on the wrong hand. Sandor doesn’t have the heart to tell her that he can peel back the veneer and see broken promises ahead. Her eyes drift about his face as she sees him truly for the first time. He doesn’t imagine it’s because there’s anything worth finding in the ruined flesh that used to frighten her. She wants his approval, to know that even the most hardened of hearts believes in fairytales.

Her full lips are still swollen from kisses and the edges of her lipstick smear outside the lines of her perfect mouth. She too is ruined and, dressed in such imperfection, has never looked so beautiful.

Sandor’s midnight patrols always end here at the bridge and tonight he recognized the taillights of Joffrey’s Bel Air glowing like demon eyes in the dark. He knew what he was going to find and still rapped at the fogged-up glass. Joffrey hadn’t the decency to drive her home, so she sat now in Sandor’s police cruiser not quite crushed but love-battered enough that every now and then she looks out the window at the trees dipping to meet the pristine waters below. She hides her pain well, even from him.

“I ain’t judging you, Miss Stark,” Sandor says and takes a drag off his cigarette.

It’s a lie and the sadness in her smile tells him she knows. She’s ashamed not for what she’s done but who she’s done it with. She should know better than to give her heart to a boy like that and the dream disintegrates in real time now. Sandor watches her knuckles turn white and the gloves twist tighter in her hands. He shifts the car into drive and navigates across the single-lane bridge.

“Next time, pick a better place to park,” he advises and keeps his eyes ahead. Painful memories are etched in the bridge’s stone barrier. If he looks, he’s lost. “The bridge is unforgiving,” he adds and leaves it at that.

He’s not looking for pity, but Sansa hangs her head and a fall of red hair frames her pretty face. He can’t untangle his growing affection for her from the unrelenting loneliness that’s eating him alive. He needs a median to separate the two. With each encounter, though, the paths overlap and switchback. And so, despite his best efforts, he’s lost and reeling too.

“I don’t know that I ever offered my condolences. I’m so sorry for your loss, Officer Clegane. She was so young.”

Sandor never knows what to do with the sentiment. He stuffs it in that cavern she left behind and hopes one day, with enough apologies, he’ll be whole again. His gaze flicks to the rearview mirror and the reflection there of the bridge where one love was lost and another just began.

“That was years ago,” he says and catches Sansa staring at his ring finger, the right one, the one that means something. Only recently did he discover the courage to let it go vacant. “I carry on,” he adds and means it too.

II.

Sansa stands at the edge of the bridge and stares down into the waters below. The wind has made a mess of her hair and her eyes are red from crying. Sandor’s driven across the bridge countless times since the accident but hasn’t stood here since that night. The ground feels unforgiving beneath his feet.

“Are you alright?” he asks as he approaches. The golden hour paints her face in rosy hues that suit her well.

“He’s…”

It’s all she can get out. She chokes on the rest and he swears he can hear her heart shattering in her chest and feel the heat radiating off her body. Her skin is splotchy and her breaths tattered.

“I know. I heard. I saw.”

Church bells filled the afternoon with merry song and pink rose petals showered the steps. Joffrey married the Tyrell girl. “A good match,” Ned Stark said and Sandor understood then the man knew nothing about his daughter. Sandor rushed to the bridge where he knew he’d find her.

“He swore he’d do the honorable thing.” Sansa instinctively cradles her belly and glances at the spot where Joffrey parked his car just a few months ago. “He promised me.”

She stares up at Sandor pleadingly and he doesn’t know for what. In another month, he won’t be able to keep her secret and neither will she. She needs him but doesn’t know how to ask and he doesn’t know for what. Sandor shoves his hands in his pockets and shifts closer to her. The breeze is fragranced with her jasmine perfume.

“I know it’s hard to believe now when you’re mired in heartache, but one day you’ll find a man who loves you right.” Sandor motions to her belly. “Both of you.”

He’s opened a fresh wound of doubt in her and she cries again, maybe for the fairytales she no longer believes in. Sandor realizes she needs him to renew her faith.

She wipes her nose with the back of her hand and, like him, tries not to look at the spot where the accident happened. It’s easy to find if you know what you’re looking for; shattered stones and a bit of blue paint from where the car collided.

“Your wife was lucky,” Sansa says with a smile and means it. Even in heartbreak, she’s sweet to him. She always has been, even when she couldn’t look him in the eye.

“So was I. And so was he.” Sandor’s heart thrums in his chest. He places his hand on top of hers. The ring, small and imperfect, isn’t there any longer. “Any man would be lucky to have you.”

“Could you?” Sansa asks but trains her eyes on their hands joined together.

“Could I what?”

“Love me.”

Sandor turns to her and wipes away the hair that’s stuck to her tear-stained cheeks. He cradles her face in his hands.

“What do you think?”

“I think you already do.”

“I think I do too,” he says and softly places his lips to hers in their first kiss.

III.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

The water is cold, deceptively so, icy even in early summer. It rushes around him, battering his knees that are already shaky and weak. Sandor’s shoes fill with water and small pebbles and slip against the slick rock underneath. His fingers are numb as he unhooks his utility belt and surrenders it to the river. It sinks with the weight of his gun. Sandor dunks beneath the water and swims to her.

He’s too bulky and the current too strong. He forces himself forward until his arms burn and his boots come loose. She’s pushed up against a rock, her pale arm clinging to it, but her face is white.

Why? Why?

He means to ask her, to scream at her once she’s safe. She left her shoes and her purse on the bridge. Surely, she only meant to swim. She’s a fool. A beautiful fool. He was ready to love her. Why wasn’t that enough?

He reaches the rock. She’s bleeding from her head, but her eyes are open. It’s a kindness that the current hasn’t carried her away.

“Sansa!”

His unfocused eyes search the shore, but his lungs fill with breath and he realizes it’s his voice, his panic, his disbelief, not someone else’s. He doesn’t remember how he gets her to shore or what thoughts blaze across his mind as he swims to safety. There must not have been any because if he thought too long, he would have known what he was about to find.

Sandor lays her down in the flattest part of the shore. She’s so cold, her skin pale. She’s always been pale but not like this. He lays on top of her to drive warmth into her body but he’s shaking too badly.

“Why?”

He doesn’t have the heart to yell it, so he whispers it against her cheek that’s like ice on his lips.

“Why?”

She doesn’t answer. He holds her anyhow.

IV.

At midnight, Sandor goes to the bridge to admit defeat. It’s taken two loves from him—the first a vibrant blossom and the second a nascent bloom. It seems fitting that he honor his hurt with the flowers he carries. If the bridge wants him too, Sandor decides it can take him. Like a cancer, it’s killing him slowly anyhow.

He’s not alone when he arrives and his feet shuffle to an abrupt stop as he steps onto the bridge. The moon shines like it did that night he found her so full of wild hope and dreams of love. She smiles at him and his feet move without accord to her. He wants to ask her why but isn’t sure he needs the answer anymore.

Sansa takes his hand and he’s more relieved than sad to find it warm. He’s been worried sick that she might still be cold. Sandor places the white roses on the ledge of the bridge.

She doesn’t notice the gesture but instead keeps her blue eyes on him. “I did.”

“Did what?”

“Love you.” She lifts his hand to her lips and her kiss there is warm too. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.” He kisses the top of her head and turns to leave. If he doesn’t go now, he’ll want to stay with her like this forever.

Sandor looks back only once. The flowers are gone and so is she.

[megsironthrone]

No because trying combos no one else ever did is like, I'm having too much fun SO 19 AND D (I think no one did that letter and that number but if they did, you are free to change them to something new!!! 😄)

I'm happy you're having fun!!

D: Sandor Clegane! (I was wondering when someone would find him!)

19: "Look, I know this is weird, but can I hold your hand?"

Wheel of Tropes: Mob AU

You really hadn't meant to get on the bad side of the Bolton family. Really! You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time and mouthed off to the wrong person. The only saving grace was that you had merely offended Roose. Roose, while dangerous, was not nearly as cruel as his son and heir, Ramsay. If rumors were to be believed.

However, that didn't stop them from watching you relentlessly. To say you were afraid for your life was an understatement. Why did you have to get involved with the mob? Even if it was by accident, why did the universe hate you?

You questioned this as you entered the crowded restaurant to wait for your takeaway. From the corner of your eye, you could see Roose's men entering. In a panic, your eyes searched for some way to hide and that's when you saw him.

You quickly made your way over to the giant of a man and slid into the seat across from him. He glared at you and you apologized. "Look, I know this weird, but can I hold your hand?" His brow quirk before he glanced around. His eyes landed on your pursuers.

"What'd you do to get on Bolton's bad side?" he asked. Your leg bounced as you explained. "Please, just for a moment. It might get them to leave me alone." He chuckled darkly. "You have no idea," he answered, stretching his hand out to you. You breathed a sigh of relief as you took it.

"Clegane," a low voice came from beside you a moment later. You tried not to tense. "You have something our boss wants."

"Yeah, well Roose isn't getting them. They are under my protection. You really don't want to get on my bad side." The stranger glanced between you and your savior before turning and leaving. You looked at the man across from you with wide eyes.

"Clegane?? As in..." He laughed again. "You really know how to pick 'em, don't you?" You wanted to run again. Had you really just traded one mob family for another?

[sansasta-rk]

an overgrown pup with neither bark nor bite. indentation of caps under a furred flap with nothing protruding yet from rounded edges. a condition that could not pierce flesh— not brawn enough to break bone. that vulnerable palpability didn’t go unnoticed by those lacking the foundation to molded into anything but monsters of affliction. terribly mangled auras lurking in the shadow of chaos and tragedy, thirsty for an opportune moment ; a hole in the armor large for their grasp to fit through, a death grip for anything within reach. collecting a debt believed owe ; as if the world owe anyone, anything.

she’s grazed that intrepid touch— and it cinched around the scruff of her neck. ripping her away from one reality to the next ; horror, after horror. a cycle of nightmares in which she is constantly waking up to new waves of terror not felt before. things she could not read in stories or hear in songs, a subject of malicious dream meant to only be experienced, or warned. if the world continuing around her were not a refreshing reminder, she’d believe that her soul had already slipped into the seven hells— that she was waking up to them, one by one.

a mind goes haywire when screaming— there are no rails available to train of thought, no trains at all. instead it is a wildfire in which a gamble ensues— where the flame will bear either death or rebirth. a pup with lungs freshly drained of water dunked back into the pool yet again, baptized in a newfound trauma. cerulean hues open to a new world ; each one darker— and a bit more lonelier than the last.

even in these moments, where she could not hear herself think over the adrenaline that possessed her form from head to toe. dominating vein by vein. where she could not feel her body despite the thrashing of limbs. when she had crept so close to the edge of life, almost allowed a peek into the abyss that encapsulated a dark— uninformed journey ; she never wished for death. and time after time, the mother granted her mercy ; a wilting rose pitied.

blood spat out of the man’s body— onto her, the whole of him dangling from the hilt of a longsword. identity of the wielder hidden by silhouette. illusion of light only furthering her distant mind. she wondered if she had slipped into that unfamiliar region, if the reaper had granted her passage so quickly that it brought an immediate halt to violation. that it vacated her spirit from her body— allowed her soul peace, not [ making her look. ]

a query immediately sated ; knowing that burned face would not have followed her there to that place of no return. she knew he would not die— so she could not have. scooped up by calloused brawn and carried away from what the shattered had believed to be a final resting place. cheated death ; with the knight of uncertainty.

[pinkykats-place]

Sandor Clegane x Reader Insert Fics

Tumblr Recommendations

Disclaimers!

Stories and Gif are NOT mine.

Some contain mature content.

Readers are mostly female.

Note: if you read and enjoy any of these stories - please like, leave a comment and/or reblog original post!

In the North

Summary: they had a relationship before they had to part ways and so they get reunited when reader is sent with Jorah by Daenarys to get a white walker, Beric and Thoros is in disbelief that Sandor can be able of loving someone

Love?

Sandor Clegane x Stark!Reader

Opposites Attract

Sandor Clegane x fem!reader

The Kennel Master’s Daughter

Sandor x female!Reader

Sandor Clegane x fem!nurse!reader

Warnings: none it's fluffy

Summary: Back at the time when Joffrey was king, the king's guard got into a fight with the people of flea bottom ending up with many of them injured including Sandor Clegane himself. What will happen when out of all the nurses only Y/N is brave enough to help him?

A Hound Will Die For You But Never Lie To You 

Trigger warnings: NSFW, swearing, all the usual Game Of Thrones warnings.

Rating: M (It jumps right in there so if that’s triggering for you I’d suggest skipping it)

Summary: Imagine being the one to gentle the rage inside Sandor Clegane.

Pairing: Sandor Clegane x Reader (gender neutral).

Everything

Summary: A little drabble about Sandor’s feelings for the reader.

Scarred

Summary: Request from anon: I have a request! Sandor/Reader where the reader is being really lovey with Sandor and kissing him everywhere and she kisses his scarred side and he pushes her away but eventually gives in because she’s persistent that she will kiss him there and that he doesn’t have to worry because she loves his face.

An unexpected scene

NSFW Fic

Angered Beasts

Request: Hi can I request a drabble where the reader is one of joffreys playthings, like sansa is, and she runs into the hound after a beating? Something a little fluffy, please x

Warning: Mentions of violence and slight blood, female reader

Bathing in a tub with Sandor - drabble

Last Night

Fem!Stark!Reader

Request: Are requests still open? If so, please could I request a Hound x Stark reader where they confess their feelings for each other before they fight the Night King?

Good Dog

Warnings: Spoiler!,Fluff, swearing

Summary: Reader is found in the snow 

Hounds and Gingers

Summary: a short, fluffy imagine

An Urgent Confession

(female reader)

Summary: A little story about the reader reminiscing of a moment between her and Sandor 

A Hound’s Jealousy

Just a short little jealous!Hound request

Warnings: jealous Sandor, handsy guy

A Good Punishment

Summary: a handmaid is given to the King’s dog

Another Drink

Summary: rough smut with Sandor after he’s sees you with Bronn

Meeting at Winterfell

Summary: Imagine being a Stark and meeting Sandor Clegane at Winterfell

Imagine Sandor realizing that Tormund has a crush on you

Jealous Sandor…

Sharing a Bed with the Hound

Awkward Fluff!

To Break the Spell

Summary: Beauty & the Beast au

Imagine it’s you who Sandor takes away from Kings Landing during the Battle of Blackwater Bay

Series: More Than Our Servitude

Sandor Clegane x Fem!Reader

Summary: You lived your life as one of the washerwomen of the Red Keep, only seeing the Hound in passing. Still, when the madness of the Battle of Blackwater erupted, he came for you. The Hound is weary from battle, but you try and soothe what little you can.

Our Family

Sandor x wife!Reader

Summary: Sandor enjoys spending the day with his wife and son

His Queen

Sandor x female Reader

Sandor is soft with joffery’s wife

Sandor’s Secret

Sandor x fem!Reader

Summary: Sandor has a secret hidden away from everyone.

Series: Fox and the Hound

Sandor x Reader

Summary: 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. 

Secret Wife (female reader)

Based on this request:  Can you do something with Sandor secretly having a wife. Maybe they met when he was serving king Robert and they met when she was hunting and eloped after a few years. She left before the battle of Blackwater because Sandor didn’t want her getting wrapped up in that so They meet again in Winterfell and no one can actually believe it.  

WITH THIS ADDED: Sandor and reader in a somewhat secret relationship. Tormund keeps hitting on reader in front of Sandor and finally his jealousy gets the better of him and he makes a loud declaration of their love. 

[axelsagewrites]

Kinktober 2023 List

Welcome to my first ever kinktober, a month long of smutty drabbles and one shots. Hope you all enjoy and if you want added to a charecter/fandom tag list so you dont miss anything let me know <3

NSFW under cut

Masterlist Here

Day one: discrete fun with Robb Stark – deciding to take his teasing to a new level Robb decides to take the sex toys out of the bedroom

Day two: marking with Jace Velaryon – jealous is an understatement for what Jace is feeling so he decides to fix his problems by showing everyone who you belong to

Day three: phone sex with Jamie Tartt – even though he loved to play the long nights away from you were almost impossible to bare so he often found himself hitting call at late hours of the night

Day four: body worship with Podrick Payne – Podrick feels honoured just to be able to touch your body and wants you to hear his praises

Day five: role reversal with James Potter – James is used to being in charge, but things change when one night you decide to give him a taste of his own teasing medicine

Day six: over stimulation with Jon Snow – Jon is eager to please but even more eager to make you a mumbling mess who doesn’t know their own name by the end

Day seven: stepcest/cam girl au with Daemon Targaryen – after Daemons new stepdaughter moves in daemon finds out her naughty little secret

Day eight: dubcon kidnap au with Ramsay Bolton – Ramsay can’t stand the idea of such a pretty creature going unappreciated any longer

Day nine: edging/orgasm denial with Rhanerya Targaryen – since you’re used to get everything you want Rhaenyra decides to show you good things come to those who wait

Day ten: throne/semi public sex with Danerys Targaryen – being the queen is a stressful job and it is your job to help your queen relax even if that means risking getting caught

Day eleven: knife play with Ivar the Boneless – people whisper and wonder how someone so sweet could marry someone so angry, but they don’t see what Ivar does when you’re underneath him

Day twelve: exhibitionism with Tormund – while wildlings talk freely about sex Tormund enjoys watching your blush at even the mention of it making it even more fun to tease you when you come to tend to his wounds

Day thirteen: primal play with Remus Lupin – usually when Remus runs around the forest its not by choice but tonight, he is chasing his favourite prey

Day fourteen: sex toys and teasing with Sansa Stark – after finding a sleek pink vibrator in her top drawer you decide to see what it can really do

Day fifteen: voyeurism with Aegon Targaryen – while you are visiting his family Aegon discovers a secret passage and what he accidentally sees through the cracks makes him want you instantly

Day sixteen: caught in the act with Roy Kent – when Roy came home all he wanted to do was curl up in bed with you but when he heard a buzzing from under the sheets his plans took a very different turn

Day seventeen: mommy kink with Cersei Lannister – while she may be rough and callous to most others Cersei finds herself dotting on her sweet girl in her chambers each night

Day eighteen: corruption kink with Alicent Hightower – a new septa arrive at court but none of the thoughts on Alicent’s minds are holy

Day nineteen: choking with Bjorn Ironside – you may have been captured by the enemies, but the punishment Bjorn gives you is starting to feel like a reward

Day twenty: bondage/wax play with Margaery Tyrell: people may whisper about her brother’s bedroom habits but none of them see the things she gets up to with her ladies’ maid

Day twenty-one: face fucking with Cregan Stark: to gain his loyalty Cregan demands that you earn it, and he enjoys watching the tears streak down your face as you do

Day twenty-two: daddy kink with Sirius Black – the word just slipped out one time but now it’s all Sirius wants to hear from your lips

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

Day twenty-four: thigh riding/dry humping with Ragnar Lothbrok – after taking a Christian girl prisoner he decides to show you the pleasure a heathen can feel

Day twenty-five: breeding kink with Ned Stark – there is a reason why Ned has so many children and it’s not as noble as many assume

Day twenty-six: collaring with Aemond Targaryen – not wanting to share Aemond decides to invest in something to show that you’ll always be his and only his

Day twenty-seven: double penetration with Jamie Tartt and Roy Kent: they both like you and when they came to settle it once and for all neither of them expected this out come

Day twenty-eight: mutual masturbation with Oberyn Martell – you always heard that the dornish were more sex positive than most, but you hadn’t expected Oberyn Martell of all people to show you just how good it could feel

Day twenty-nine: face riding with Heleana Targaryen – while Heleana appeared shy outside of your chambers when you, her maid, came to tend to her at night she was anything but shy

Day thirty: teacher student au with Jamie Lannister – he knew it was wrong to ask you to stay after class but after one too many short, short skirts he could no longer keep his thoughts at bay

Day thirty-one: orgy/group sex with Aegon, Aemond, Jace, Daemon, and Rhaenyra since after all sharing is caring

[phntmeii]

✰ Phntmeii's Headcanon Masterlist ✰

✰ You can request general ideas or characters you want to see more of or specific requests. (EX: 'Vinsome Sanji Fluff'. Or request 'Jon Snow x Wildling!Reader at the Wall headcanons'.)

✰ NSFW content will often be AFAB or GN for readers and often have a Dom!Character unless specified otherwise. (AMAB terms are unfamiliar to me so may not me fulfilled). Minors DNI. Will be blocked.

✰ I will only write for characters that I know to not provide too OOC content. Please refer to my current fixation list for fandoms that I'm apart of or the already listed fandoms I've done headcanons for!

✰ Headcanons/Requests may not be fulfilled in order! I will generally bounce around different lists based on my preference so it may take a bit to get around to certain characters!

✰ Regular Headcanon Lists generally range from 25-35 bullet points with sections that include characters' love languages. Compilation Headcanon Lists have a scenario listed with characters listed under a specific reaction.(Can be a simple sentence or two or a drabble for each character.)

REQUESTS: Working on current submitted requests!

✰ Current Fixations: Across the Spider-Verse, COD:MWII, Game of Thrones, House of the Dragon, Live Action One Piece, Horror Slashers, Mortal Kombat 1

NSFW Headcanons are highlighted in RED. WIP Headcanons are highlighted in PINK. This list will be updated as time goes on with more characters and links directly to the posts. Compilation Headcanons with several characters are highlighted in PURPLE.

ASOIAF:

Aegon II Targaryen Aemond Targaryen Jaime Lannister [Kingslayer] Jaime Lannister [Redemption] Margaery Tyrell x Snow!Reader Robb Stark Sandor Clegane Sandor Clegane x Snow!Reader (20% Done)

ATSV:

Hobie Brown Miguel O’Hara Miles Morales Miles Morales x SelfHarming!Reader Miles Morales [E42]

One Piece Live Action:

Luffy w/ Breeding Kink OPLA Characters and Physical Touch OPLA Characters Makeout Sessions OPLA Characters “Only One Bed” Trope OPLA Characters "Only One Bed" Trope PT. 2 (Coming Soon) OPLA Characters x disabled!Reader Possessive!OPLA Characters x shy!Reader (Coming Soon)

Random things OPLA Characters would Do Roronoa Zoro w/ Breeding Kink Sanji Cooking w/ Reader (Coming Soon) Sanji w/ Breeding Kink Sanji x Reader w/ ED (Coming Soon) Sanji x shy!Reader (Coming Soon) Jealous!Sanji x Pirate!GN!Reader Straw Hat Crew when You’re Sick Usopp w/ Breeding Kink

Slashers:

Angela Baker Brahms Heelshire Bo Sinclair NSFW Alphabet Corey Cunningham Hannibal Lecter (Coming Soon) RZ!Michael Myers (Coming Soon) RZ!Michael Myers x Russian!SO Sinclair Twins [Artist!Reader + Bimbo!Reader] Slashers and Hanahaki Disease Slashers Thoughts on Having Kids Slashers x depressed!Reader (Coming Soon) Slashers x Fanfic Reading SO Slashers x Naive!Sunshine!SO Slashers x Shy!SO Slashers x StrictLatina!SO Slashers x Petite!Strong!SO Thomas Hewitt

HOTD Texts:

Aemond's Texts After Season 1 HOTD x SO!Reader: "Are You Cheating on Me?” HOTD x SO!Reader: "Would you still love me if I was a worm?” Team Green Incorrect Quotes

⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune

[thebookbutterfly]

°•. Sandor Clegane .•°

Fan fiction recommendations from BB’s Bookshelf. All my favourite Sandor Clegane works in one place.

⭐️ = one of my favourites

ONESHOTS:

🦋 Secret Wife [Fluff] In which the reader and Sandor are married but no one knows. When Tormund starts hitting on you, Sandor’s jealousy gets the best of him and the secret comes out. << Female Reader >>

🦋 Punishment? [Fluff] Forced marriage trope. After Joffrey forces you to marry the Hound as a punishment you learn the giant of a man is kinder than he looks. Love ensues. So much for a punishment. << Female Reader >>

🦋 In the North [Fluff] Established Relationship. After The Battle of Blackwater Sandor and the reader were forced to separate. Fluff ensues when you both reunite in the North. Soft Sandor. << Female Reader >>

🦋 Sharing a Bed with the Hound [Fluff] You and Sandor arrive at the inn to find that there is only one bed. You refuse to let him sleep on the floor. << Female Reader >>

🦋 Not Such A Lady [Fluff] Domestic Sandor x Reader. Sandor is shocked to find out just how many swear words his lady knows. << Female Reader, Swearing >>

🦋 keeping warm [Fluff] You’re freezing and Sandor is practically a furnace. Cuddling for warmth. << Gender Neutral Reader >> ⭐️

SERIES:

Coming Soon!

DRABBLES:

Coming Soon!

IMAGINES:

🦋 Bear [Fluff] Everyone calls Sandor the Hound, but to you he seems more like a bear. << Gender Neutral Reader >>

[seoness]

Sandor with a s/o who loves to draw/sketch/paint him? It can be hcs or a drabble or anything really.

Book!Sandor please. He’s so ugly I love him. ☹️❤️‍🩹

Praise be, praise be. Ugly is hot. Now this is a miracle, but I'll not waste a thousand words haggling over the fact that the features he's described to have are actually those which I consider attractive BUT this is not a complete miracle and I will instead ramble on about the issue of painting/drawing/sketching.

We don't see it much in ASOIAF. The artistry mentioned is often mummery, embroidery/needling, sculptures, and tapestries. (Although some armors seem to be quite the works of art, I am looking at you Ser Loras Tyrell).

Now, I am not claiming that this activity doesn't exist but I will be using our own history as a reference. Painting and even drawing/sketching were expensive back in the day (especially painting). Parchment isn't cheap. We don't really see nobles or the Faith acting as patrons for any type of painter. The only thing I can think of is shield-painters. So for the sake of ease, I am making this SO a member of nobility.

Headcanon

Every artist has their goal. To capture beauty, spark creativity, make a mark, or simply suck a little less.

It's a cliché to moan about not being understood, so you try to not moan too much when those around you don't understand. You smile, a knowing smile, often pared with a light nod. The "please-stop-and-please-do-not-make-me-ask-you-to"-nod. You've mastered it.

The thing is... a face is a face. Sure, the features change a bit but the principle remains the same. It's one of the things you never say out loud. How boring drawing can make the world. You study it, sure, but you study to capture not to admire. That can come later. Only if later ever came.

Every person has their own impossible. Some feat, some dream, something out of reach. Yours walked around the halls of the Red Keep.

Sandor Clegane was incredible. His face was incredible.

Plenty of people came to you for a portrait. Not him. One of the guards had asked you to draw him without the scar, curious how the man would look unburnt but it was one of the few portraits you refused. You never told Clegane, of course. The thought of that made you shutter. The guard would have stopped his howls long before Clegane stopped his fist from meeting the poor sod's face.

The solution was simple. You never asked for permission.

It wasn't a perfect likeness. You forgave yourself for that. After all, you had only managed to study him in passing but even the unburnt side of his face was difficult to do justice. He was more rugged. Harsher. Sader. You couldn't draw the burnt side. It was too intimate and you couldn't shake the sense that you wanted to do it justice.

So you continued. It became your secret. The ever-growing bundle of drawings of the Hound. Whenever you passed him in the hall your heartbeat soared, what if he could tell? What if he could sense that you carried him around? Glimpses set on parchment.

He was handsome. Fine, ugly by most people's count, but he was. No one else had a face you could study endlessly and never tire, but he did.

One evening you set out, it wasn't even to find him. Princess Myrcella wanted you to draw one of the birds in the garden for her little brother. The bundle of Hound-drawings just came with. They had grown into a source of comfort and shame. What if some servant found them? What if he was told? You'd die. If not by his hand, your own heart would just die right there on the spot.

Clegane shouldn't even have been there. The garden wasn't for him.

The collision was brutal... well, brutal for you. It didn't as much as budge him. Clegane remained a tower of darkened steel and you became a mess of cloth, parchment, powdered coal and a broken brush.

As you gathered the drawings you felt his gaze burning into your neck. Was it too late to tattle on the guard who wanted him drawn unburnt? Better him than you.

Clegane said something. You didn't hear, not while you talked over him and past him. You couldn't even retell what was said, you just talked and talked while you fled like a scorched rat.

Dorne? Sothoryos? Perhaps you could board a ship sailing toward the Jade Sea? Forsake your name and house and simply disappear. Yes, a sound plan. A fine plan.

Clegane didn't find you right away. Two days passed before he caught you in the hall, heading towards the Princess to deliver her drawing. There was no question, just a command: "Talk." You'd never been so quiet and so he shook you and repeated the command. "I was bored," you said, "and you're difficult to draw, interesting to draw. I haven't shown them to anyone... you could have them if you like or I'll destroy them if that's any better."

Clegane said nothing. He just released you and once again you scurried away like a scorched rat.

By nightfall a knock filled your bedchamber. Before you even opened the door, the stench of wine and ale seeped through the cracks.

Clegane didn't say a word as he stormed inside. You didn't even manage to tell yourself a prayer that it was drink that reddened his face. Rage, hot and black, filled his grey eyes. "That the lot of you do? Pissing yourself with fear before me and snicker behind my back," he spat, "interesting." "You are interesting," you answered meekly.

The chair let out a crack as his body slammed down upon it. The laughter thick in his throat. "Draw then. Go on, if it's any good I might let you live."

So you drew him. Clegane never told you if he thought the drawing any good, but surviving that night was answer enough.

Strangely enough, you hoped he'd come again. You'd take more time, allow yourself to admire him. Just for a moment.

[just-a-little-cellist]

Masterlist and Requests!

Masterlist

✨1000 Followers Q&A Open!

Requests Open!

Request Rules (please read before requesting!):

I will write headcanons or short drabbles for a specific scenario, or you can request a preference scenario for up to 3 characters from one fandom :)

You can also request for a polyamorous scenario with more than one character from a fandom (e.g. Ed x reader x Stede).

I will write both SFW and NSFW content. All are x reader, and reader can be any gender. Anything NSFW I will write the reader as AFAB (purely because that's all I have experience with and don't want to seem disrespectful).

I won't write for non-con (dub-con is ok), incest, etc, but if you aren't sure then feel free to send me a message to check!

Below is my list of fandoms and characters :) go forth and request!

Our Flag Means Death (pre season 2): Edward Teach, Stede Bonnet, Izzy Hands.

Game of Thrones: Sandor Clegane, Jorah Mormont, Tormund Giantsbane, Sansa Stark, Brienne of Tarth.

The Hobbit: Thorin Oakenshield, Kili Durin, Fili Durin, Dwalin.

Lord of the Rings: Samwise Gamgee, Pippin Took, Aragorn, Legolas, Boromir, Faramir.

Hannibal (NBC): Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter.

Rick and Morty: Rick C-137, Doofus Rick (J19 Zeta 7).

Doctor Who: 9th Doctor, 10th Doctor, 11th Doctor, 12th Doctor.

Saw: Mark Hoffman, Amanda Young, Peter Strahm.

[ladywynne]

All feature Sandor Clegane and Sansa Stark except They're Coming, Kiss Me!

Series

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder - Extreme AU following Sansa, Sandor, and the Starks from childhood through the battle for the dawn.

Innocent Hearts - AO3

The Bloom and Bruises of Youth - AO3

Love Conquers All - AO3

I am Yours and You are Mine - AO3

Winter's Heart - AO3

Call to Arms - AO3

Little Wildlings - AO3

One Shots

Ice Bride - AO3 - The Night King requires a bride

Necessary - AO3 - Sansa is queen - post season eight

This Year - AO3 - New Year's story

Broken - AO3 - Sandor Clegane's final battle

Remembrances - AO3 - Sansa looks back at her life.

Mother's Lap - Tumblr, AO3 - drabble

Freedom - Sandor finds Sansa and Theon on their way to Castle Black

Warmth - AO3 - drabble

They're Coming, Kiss Me!- Tumblr - Arya x Theon - Literally forgot I wrote this for a rare pair week! Lol

[tinfairies]

Seeing these Sandor drabbles reminds me of this one fic where reader says “I’m certain I just fucked The Warrior”

AU where Sandor Clegane is The Warrior that walks the earth. You’re the Maiden. He sees you, instantly drawn to you but doesn’t know why but he needs to protect you. He’d commit unspeakable atrocities to do so. And you would protect what little of his innocence (aka his dream of being a knight) is left. Offer him songs, your time and company and eventually his heart will soften to you and only you.

Aw 🥺

[chyckles]

Requests & Characters I write for

Requests are OPEN

Drop your request in my ask box, and I'll try to write it as soon as possible. Keep in mind that this is a hobby, I have a life outside Tumblr, respect my time and don't pressure me.

Please remember English is not my first language, and I'm still learning, so if you see an error (there will be plenty of them) don't be mean to me. If you don't like it, just ignore my posts, thank you.

Your request need to contain:

The character/s you want me to write about (I will leave the list at the end of the post). I don't write ships, only “x reader”. If what you want is a preference, then only specify the fandom.

Select one of this: one-shot (2k+ words), preference or drabble (500-1k words).

Give me a brief description of what you want. You can even send me a scene or dialogue that you already have in mind.

Let me know if you want a bad or good ending. If you don't say anything, I'll do whatever feels right for me.

I will not describe any physical feature (skin color, weight…) unless it's relevant for the plot, so if the reader needs a specific feature please include it in your request.

I DON'T WRITE SMUT BY REQUEST, only whenever I feel like it. Sorry.

I can write love triangles, but not polyamory because I don't know almost anything about it and don't want to mess it up. Maybe in the future. The only exceptions are Steven Grant and Marc Spector, they're the only ones that I can make the reader date at the same time.

I DON'T WRITE INCEST, PEDOPHILIA OR ANY SICK THING LIKE THAT. If the character is underage, the reader will also be underage, and they will behave like underage people. I can write age gaps if the characters are both adults.

I don't necessary write only romantic relationships. If you want any kind of platonic relationship, that's okay, just specify it on the request.

Characters I write for:

I will add new characters of other fandoms in the future. These are just temporary. My favorites are in bold.

Marvel

Bucky Barnes

Carol Danvers

Kate Bishop

Loki

Marc Spector

Natasha Romanoff

Peter Parker (Tobey, Andrew and Tom)

Sam Wilson

Steve Rogers

Steven Grant

Thor

Stephen Strange

Wanda Maximoff

Yelena Belova

Harry Potter

Bill Weasley

Charlie Weasley

Cho Chang

Draco Malfoy

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Ginny Weasley

Harry Potter

Hermione Granger

James Potter

Luna Lovegood

Neville Longbottom

Nymphadora Tonks

Remus Lupin

Ron Weasley

Sirius Black

Game of Thrones

Arya Stark

Daenerys Targaryen

Cersei Lannister

Jaime Lannister

Jon Snow

Robb Stark

Sandor Clegane

Sansa Stark

Tyrion Lannister

Supernatural

Castiel

Dean Winchester

Sam Winchester

The walking dead

Carl Grimes

Carol Peletier

Daryl Dixon

Glenn Rhee

Maggie Greene

Negan Smith

Rick Grimes

[megsironthrone]

Never Fake-Date Your Savior

Based on this request: : glad you’re back!!! i hope you and your hubby get to finish HotD soon! 👀👀 a while ago you wrote a sandor x reader drabble where he’s in the mafia/gang and protecting reader from the boltons by holding their hand? i was wondering if you’d be interested in doing a continuation where they’ve kept up fake dating to keep reader safe but on one of their dates, they both highkey admit they’ve grown to genuinely like the other? 👉👈 if not that’s totally ok, you can ignore this!!! 💌 hope you have a great day

Here you are lovelies!! This is the fic that the 1st place winner of Game of Characters chose to be posted next! *Familiar Characters are NEVER mine!*

This fic is a continuation of a drabble I wrote for my 2200 follower celebration

Warnings: Mentions of mob violence? Modern/Mob AU. Fake Dating Trope. Angsty-ish. Fluff.

Pairings/Characters: Sandor Clegane x reader

How did this happen? That was the question you’d been asking yourself for the last several weeks. Ever since you figured out who the man who’d saved you from Roose Bolton’s men was. You’d managed to trade one mob family for another. However, Sandor Clegane was nothing like Roose Bolton or his son. He had saved you the night you met him and had even given you his number so you could contact him as often as you felt unsafe. 

You told him exactly how you’d gotten on the Bolton’s radar and he called you stupid. It wasn’t said to hurt you, but rather to stress just how poor your decision making in your dealings with the Boltons was. You realized that when the Bolton’s men would not leave you alone. It got to the point where you were calling or texting Sandor every other day. It was getting tiresome, but luckily for you, Sandor came up with a brilliant idea.

“What?” you asked in disbelief as you stared at the scarred man. “As often as I see you, we might as well.” You merely stared at him as your brain processed his words. “Let me get this straight,” you managed to say after a few minutes, “You want to fake-date me and make it obvious until Roose and his cronies finally decide to leave me alone?” He nodded. 

“Look, they leave you alone whenever I’m with you. We might as well make sure that’s as often as possible without you having to pull me from work. And I don’t have to listen to your whinging every time you see them.” You glared at him. “I don’t whinge,” you muttered, but he heard you anyway and arched his brow. With a loud sigh, you said, “Fine. I know it’s the best idea we’ve got. So, let’s do it. What could possibly go wrong?”

*time skip*

Feelings. That’s what could go wrong. You developed feelings for Sandor faster than you ever thought possible. Spending so much time with him, day in and day out lead to you falling head over heels in love with him. And you were doomed. Sandor was not a man who expressed feelings easily and he certainly had a very bleak outlook on love. There was no way he would ever, ever return your feelings. 

You hid your growing adoration as best as you could. You stopped seeing him as often, which didn’t help the whole Bolton situation. You kept conversations shorter unless you were out in public together. Anything you could do to avoid confronting your feelings, you tried. Eventually, however, you couldn’t any longer. 

One evening, you and Sandor planned a dinner “date” and for some reason it made you even more nervous than usual. You couldn’t help feeling like something was going to happen. Good or bad, you didn’t know. Just something. You just knew that your life was about to change again. 

Dinner was a soft-spoken affair. That was typical. Sandor didn’t talk much and when he did, it was either quiet enough so only you could hear or loud enough the entire restaurant could hear. No in between. After dinner, you were still feeling a bit antsy, so you asked Sandor to walk with you through a nearby park. He agreed, but was even more quiet than usual. 

“What’s up?” you asked when you were finally away from a crowd of people. Sandor didn’t reply so you stopped walking and looked up at him. “Sandor…” He met your gaze and those deep brown eyes nearly had you drowning in them. “Are you okay?” He nodded, but you didn’t believe him and asked again. “Sandor, I know something’s bothering you. What is-”

“You.” You blinked and your jaw dropped open in surprise. “Oh,” was all you managed as you felt your heart twist in your chest. “I see,” you croaked out, willing the tears not to come. You would not let that man see you cry over him. 

“Why can’t I get you out of my head?” he asked, almost too quietly for you to hear, “You’re always there. I can’t take it anymore. WHY? Why do I always see you staring at me with those (e/c) of yours? You don’t look at me like everyone else does. Like I’m dangerous, which I am. My entire family is. You look at me like…like I mean something. ” 

At that, you felt the tears you wanted to stay away come to your eyes. “Sandor, you do mean something. You mean so much. I-I think I might…” you trailed off, unable to put your feelings into words. Instead, you stepped closer to him and placed a hand on his unscarred cheek. You gently guided him down so you could meet his lips, kissing him softly.

When you pulled away, Sandor was gazing down at you in surprise. He clearly had not been expecting that. While the two of you had shared small pecks, mostly on the cheek, to sell the idea that you were together, you’d never kissed on the lips before that moment. You gave him a soft smile. 

Then, as suddenly as your happy moment came, it ended. Sandor glanced up and a frown made its way to his lips. “Oh,” was all he said before backing away and heading in the opposite direction. You took off after him, confused until you looked over your shoulder. Bolton’s men. 

“Sandor,” you panted, “Wait!” He stopped and whirled on you, fire blazing in his dark eyes. He was furious. “What was that about?” you managed to ask. He gave you a look that said, “Are you kidding me?” 

“I knew we were pretending, but that was lower than I ever thought you capable of,” he growled. Your brows knit together in confusion. “What?” 

“Kissing me like that just because Bolton’s men saw us again. I know I’m no prize, but you didn’t have to…to-” he trailed off as you realized that he wasn’t angry. He was hurt thinking that you only kissed him because you were pretending. You had to remind yourself that the man standing before you hadn’t been shown real love in his entire adult life. “Sandor, I didn’t even know they were there. Honestly. I kissed you because I wanted to. I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time.” 

Sandor was silent, hanging on your every word. You continued, “When we started this, I was just grateful to be protected. But then I got to know you and spend time with you. I don’t know when or even how it happened, but I fell and I fell hard. I love you, Sandor and nothing else matters. Not what people think, not the dangers from any other “families”, not the Boltons, not even your brother. The only thing that matters at this moment is whether or not you love me too.” You answer came in the form of the giant man pulling you to him and kissing you breathlessly. 

(a/n: I hope you like it!)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard @brewsthespirit-blog @etherealpotter @smalltownbigheart @frozenhuntress67 @cd1242 @gruffle1 @supernatural4life2022 @asgards-princess-of-mischief

Sandor Clegane Tags: @songoficecreamandfireworks @nkjktk @silversprings98