#sandor clegane smut

[justagirlwholikesadam]

Realm's Delight

Summary: You were the twin of the dark haired child Cersei had with Robert. While fever took your twin, you survived. You are known throughout the seven kingdom as the realm's delight. The years has passed and your younger brother Joffrey wants something you have. Sandor Clegane x Baratheon! Reader

A/n: Let me know if you enjoy this. Likes and comments are appreciated. Enjoy -L

Warning: NSFW, being the it girl, Joffrey being Joffrey, Robert is nice to us, manipulation at its finest, daddy's girl, princess wants princess gets, territorial!

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“It was a miracle.” Robert Baratheon, your father told you. You had survived the horrid fever that took your twin brother away. It was a secret that was kept among the Lannisters and only Robert. While Cersei was in mourning of the loss of her son, Robert’s was cut short. Cersei always resented him for that and that he gave you his undivided attention. Everyone in the Seven Kingdoms knew how Robert adored you. Some had even said that he loves you more than his own wife, Cersei and as you grew, he practically gave you whatever your heart desired. Your father wasn’t the only one to give you gifts. Fur straight from House Stark, jewels and the finest dresses from House Martell. Seafood freshly caught by House Greyjoy. The list of gifts went on and on. You were named the realm’s delight among the people. 

When Robert learned about the nickname that you have been given he feared that you will have the same fate as Lyanna Stark. Robert decided to do what was best, keep you protected at all times. Robert declared for Sandor Clegane to become your personal guard. Cersei had cried out to Robert about it. He is a monstrosity and hideous beast, she ranted. You heard of the Clegane’s brothers. Lord Baelish always been somewhat kind enough to keep you up to date about the accomplishments Ser Gregor had done along with Sandor’s. 

“A flower like you shouldn’t be guarded by such an animal.” Lord Baelish exclaimed as his wandering eyes looked up and down that you. You grabbed a hold of his hands. Lord Baelish blushed from the sudden contact. 

“I will grow to be the most beautiful flower because of that animal.” You whispered to Lord Baelish who honestly wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying. 

You were so close to him, his mind was in the gutters. Rolling your eyes when you turn away to leave Lord Baelish, you wipe your hands on your dress while walking away from him. Men, they will always think with their cock. Cersei had told you after she had too many cups of wine. Your uncle, Jamie had laughed at her and tried to take her back to her chambers before she said anything else. That’s how you used Lord Baelish to tell you about the gossip going around. A praise, batting your eyelashes at him or giving him a smile was all needed for him to tell you what you wanted to know. 

When Sandor was presented to you for the first time, you were surprised. He was the second tallest man you ever seen, his brother was the first. He had lowered his head as he entered the chambers so he wouldn’t hit the door frame. Robert had taken your hand and pulled you towards Sandor. You noticed Sandor had the most beautiful brown eyes you've ever seen. Brown, like the earth and as the light hit his eyes, they looked like honey. You got a closer look when he knelt in front of you and vowed to keep you safe. You knew about the story of his burn scars. It took you an afternoon with Lord Baelish, drinking tea to learn about it. You had taken a liking to Sandor when he became your guard. He was too silent for your liking but that meant you had to break his walls down. 

Sandor stood and waited with you outside of your mother’s chambers. She was going to give birth to her second child. Sandor had mumbled to you to keep still since you kept walking back and forth, worried every time you heard your mother’s screams. You were about to say something when the screams stopped. Joffrey was born, and he was healthy. King Robert had his heir to the iron throne. Cersei had two other children after that and your relationship with her became unsteady. Sandor would cast a look at you whenever someone mentioned to you about Joffrey’s and your siblings' golden locks as they grew. You gave them a smile and answered. “They have been blessed with the Lannister’s golden hair.”

He knew you weren’t an idiot, he ignored when people said you were and sometimes when in a bad mood he slayed them whenever they expressed their opinions about it to him loudly. All beauty but nothing in your head. He wanted to tell them how wrong they were. He had spent hours with you in the dusty library of the castle. Seen you excelled in your studies. The winning smile you gave them disappears the moment they leave your sight. 

“Something to say, my beloved Sandor?” The tips of Sandor’s ears grew hot by your affectionate words. You had a habit of calling him all sorts of names after both of you grew closer. You didn't want to admit it to Sandor but you like seeing him squirm after calling him those sweet names. 

“No, princess.” He croaked out when you gave a cheeky smile. He immediately looked down at the ground. 

“Do you think father will ever notice?” You ask Sandor and he looks back at you. You were being serious. 

Sandor shook his head, no. “Maybe if he stops drinking and catches a break from his whores, I reckon he might see it. Unfortunately I can’t say anything. As much as father loves me more, I fear I will be punished if I say it.” 

Sandor was right you weren’t the dumb princess everyone seems to think. As the time passed, Joffrey and the rest of your siblings grew; it's been nearly 16 years. You had finally managed to get out of a marriage proposal that your father mentioned to you. Sandor was waiting outside as he heard your voice behind your father’s chambers door. He couldn’t help but grin when he heard the hearty laughter from the King. 

“Thank you, father. I knew you would be able to understand. That’s why you are the most wonderful King to ever live.” Sandor heard you say before walking out. 

Sandor watched as you shut the door behind you and pointed at the staircase nearby. Sandor looked around his surroundings, making sure no one was in sight. He walked a few steps down and turned to see you walking towards him. He lets out a huff when you jump on him, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“Seven hells.” Sandor cursed when kissed his cheek, attacking him with kisses. Sandor moved to capture your lips with his. 

“I take it. It went well.” Sandor said, pulling you close to him. You nodded with a grin. 

“Father can be very kind when he’s drunk out of his mind.” You told him as he put you down on the steps. Both of you froze at the sound of Joffrey’s voice, he was coming up the steps. Sandor immediately took a few steps away from you. 

“Oh look, it’s my dear sister.” 

“Hello, my dear brother.” You greeted Joffrey in the same sarcastic tone. The blonde stood a few steps down from you with Ser Meryn Trant behind him. 

“Dog.” Joffrey said.  “My-.” 

“You mean Sandor.” You cut Sandor off. Your harsh tone wiped the smirk off Joffrey's face. You crossed your arms over your chest. This was an ongoing thing. Joffrey would call Sandor a dog to get a rise out of you. 

“His name is Sandor. Have you forgotten?” Joffrey can’t help but smile wickedly at you. It irritated you, Joffrey grew to be more ill and filled with a horrible attitude. He was a spoiled child, that’s all you had to say about your brother. His words and remarks were vile and you wouldn’t stand for it especially when it came to Sandor or to your servants. 

“He’s a dog, my dear sister. There’s no changing that. He is The Hound.” 

“You’re a dog as well. You even act like one and yet people still call you prince.” You answered back. 

“You little-.” Meryn Trant stopped mid sentence when he saw Sandor walking down the steps to get next to you. 

“Finish what you were saying. I fucking dare you.” Sandor threatens Meryn Trant and gives him a cold stare down. Sandor’s reputation grew as the years passed. Killer, monster, perhaps even worse than his brother, the names and the fear of fighting against him grew. They all knew no one is safe when he’s protecting you. 

“You are so kind to the people below us.” Joffrey said, making your eyes roll. You wished for the day when Joffrey realized that he is a bastard. It was called a rumor but you knew the truth. Cersei has always been a bit sloppy when she was drunk. You had seen your mother and your uncle, Jamie getting cozy. 

“I will be so heartbroken when you finally leave King’s Landing and join those filthy people from Drone.” You smile at your brother. Plans have been changed. 

“I’m surprised that you know about my marriage proposal with Drone.” You said knowing him and your mother had conspired this marriage proposal. 

“Let me be the one to deliver this good news to you, dear brother.” Joffrey frowned as you approached him closer. 

“There is no need to be heartbroken, for I am staying. There is no proposal.” Joffrey's blonde brows rose up and his shocked expression turned into an angry one. 

“It must be hard not being father’s favorite.”  You whispered. 

This dispute, the rivalry between you and brother began when he was able to see how Robert favored you more. He reached out for Robert but Robert was busy being King or being drunk. Joffrey was always envious of you, you had your father wrapped around your finger along with the entire realm while you got cheered and praised. He got concerned looks from the people of King's Landing. 

“Shall we go, Sandor? Agatha said she was preparing chicken for prandium.” You looked over at Sandor who nodded at you. 

“Yes, princess.” Passing by Joffrey, you ignored the look from Mery Trant. Sandor bowed his head to Joffrey and followed you. You can hear Sandor’s heavy footsteps behind you as you continue to hold your front. You wouldn’t let Joffrey know that his little plan to get rid of you didn’t work. Thanks to Lord Baelish and Lord Varys who gave you a heads up about it again, this wasn’t the first time. Joffrey wanted to get rid of you again and now he had even gotten your mother to play along. 

Night came and you welcomed the warmth Sandor provided you. Even though the weather of King’s Landing was already warm you still preferred the heat from Sandor’s body. 

“I heard something.” Sandor spoke after a moment of silence. You played with the soft hair on his chest while you laid your head on his arm, his arms tightening around you. 

“Speak, Sandor.” You softly said, growing anxious every passing second. 

“The servants overheard Joffrey asking Cersei about taking me as his own guard.” You raised your head off his arm and looked down at him. 

“What?” 

“He wants me as his guard.” Sandor answered you. You shook your head. 

“That little cunt.” You whispered under your breath and you realized Sandor wasn’t even looking at you. He kept staring up at the ceiling of your chambers. His eyes had become dull and his face was emotionless. Pushing the sheets off your body, you moved to sit in his lap. Paying no attention to the soreness between your legs, you felt him hold on to your legs as you cupped his face with both hands. 

“He won’t take you away from me.” Sandor let out a strain chuckle.

He knew what he had with you won’t last. He had made a promise to himself when he first met you. He wouldn't fall in love with you but he broke it. He was utterly in love with you after being your guard for many years. He had convinced himself in the beginning of your relationship that you guys can be together but reality was hitting him straight in the face, you were a princess and he was just a second born son. You would be married to someone else, someone better. You would leave him. 

“I swear it.”  

“Might be for the best if I do switch. It will be for the best.” Sandor said, making you frown. 

“I don’t think I’ll be able to watch you marry some lord or a king and give him kids.” Sandor traced the skin of your legs as he spoke. 

“Your father won’t decline the next marriage proposal. He did it for the last two but not the third one. He won’t, I know it. The realm wants to see you married and have children. If I keep guarding you and you get married, I’ll kill your husband.” Sandor said sincerely. You dropped your hands from his face and brought it down to his chest. 

“Do you love me?” You asked. 

Sandor’s jaw clenched and his eyes grew hard. “Yes or no?” 

“You know I do. I have killed for you.” Sandor responded with no remorse. He had spilled blood for you and had lost count on how many people he killed to protect you and your honor.  

“If you love me then never say those words again. Promise me?! Promise me that you won’t say that it’s best.”

Sandor said your name softly but you yelled at him. “Swear it to me! Please.” 

Sandor nodded, raising his hand up to cup your cheek when he saw you on the verge of tears. He couldn’t bear seeing you cry. You grabbed on to his wrist, kissing his palm. 

“I promise. I swear it.” He told you. You leaned down to kiss him. Enjoying the tender moment with him, there were a few times when Sandor showed his soft side with you. It was mostly in bed, both of you would be wrapped around each other and sometimes the aftermath of many orgasms. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” He told you and you began to kiss him harder moving your hips, your cunt humping against his cock. Whining loudly when you felt him pull you to his chest and wrap an arm around you. His free hand touches your bare ass. Sandor takes a deep breath as he feels how warm and wet you are. 

“I won't let Joffrey take you away from me. I have a plan.” 

Sandor’s hand freezes on your ass and looks down at you. 

“A plan?” You nodded as you pressed a kiss on his chest. 

“Yes. You’re mine, Sandor. No one is going to take you away from me.” Your words were like a shot of adrenaline to him. He gripped your ass harder, he wanted to believe you.

He didn't want to ruin this moment with a fight. He wanted to remember this night with you incase this would be the last night he gets to spent with you. Naked and curled up together. He wanted to enjoy it, so he moved to his side, taking you with him. Facing each other now, Sandor drapes your leg over his waist, your right arm under his head while his arm goes under you. In a thirst position, he can hold you close to him. You bump his nose softly and kiss his scared cheek.  He gripped your waist pulling you closer to him.

You shut your eyes and moan when his thick fingers touch your slit. Gather the reminiscence of your cum and his dripping from your hole and rub it on along the swollen lips of your cunt. The tip of his fingers gliding over your clit making you cry out, your cunt was sensitive from earlier. Your toes curled up and legs tensed up when you felt his finger inside of you. 

“Fuck.” He groans as he holds you close to him. Moaning his name as you felt him finger you for a moment. He shifted and moved your legs higher so he had room. 

“Sandor.” You cry out his name as he slips inside of you. You held on to his arms as he gripped your waist while pumping into you. 

His face hidden between your neck and shoulder, you can feel his hand on your back, nails digging into your skin. You held on for dear life as you heard him growl against your skin. 

“I’ll kill him, Y/n.” He moans to you as he fucks you, his cock sliding in and out of your cunt. His thrust was growing faster and harsher. The thought of you married with some prince made him angry. Even if people didn't know, you were his and he would keep it that way.

“You hear me?” He said with a moan. He moves his face towards you. You nod at him letting out a pitched whine when he hits that sweet spot. 

“You belong with me. You’re mine.” You kissed him trying to mask your moans but nothing in the world would mask the squelching sound of your pussy being fucked. 

Sandor held on to you as he moved his hips back and forward. He feels his balls tighten when he feels you cum on him, you’re trembling, skin slick with sweat. Sandor is grunting as he manhandles you. Your hands are on him, touching him, you can feel the muscles and his scars from his battles on his back and his arms. 

Sandor cries your name and you shut your eyes as he presses his hips against you, slamming his cock deep inside of you. His hand on your hips goes down your ass, cups your cheek. He squeezes it as he cums deep inside of you. You whimper feeling stuff, your pussy keeps clenching and unclenching around him. He shifts his hips and you moan at the feeling of your clit being ticked by his pubic hair.

You feel his lips on your cheek, pressing soft kisses as he huffs out of breath. 

“Sandor.” You whispered as you nuzzled against his face. You didn’t mind the feeling of the scars against your face, you kept close to him enjoying the aftermath of your orgasm. 

You didn’t want this to end, you wouldn’t allow it. Sandor was yours first, Sandor belongs to you just as much you belong to him. You weren’t going to give him up without a fight. 

Morning came and you were woken by your ladies in waiting. The flock of ladies knocked and waited for you outside to respond. You rose up, finding yourself alone. You wrapped yourself in a blanket and invited them inside. One by one they walked inside, picking up the sheets from the floor, one went to your closet to get your clothes for the day and one opened the doors to the balcony. 

“Here, my princess.” The eldest came by you after you covered yourself with your robe. You thanked her for the tea and waited patiently while one warmed your bath water.

One of the ladies was brushing your hair after your bath. They stopped when there was a knock on the door, opening the door. Sandor came walking in, he had a concerning look on his face. 

“Good morrow, princess. The king demands your presence in his chambers at once.” 

You walked to your father’s chambers with Sandor behind you. He sensed how nervous you were. Before going around the hall, you felt Sandor grab your arm. He gently pulled you back. You were pushed softly against the wall. Sandor stood in front of you, towers over you as he looked down at you. 

“Worried?” You whispered to him. You feel one of his hands cup your face. 

Sandor doesn’t reply, he simply presses his lips against yours. “Go on.” He tells you and steps away from you. 

Sandor has a habit of never expressing his feelings out loud. Sandor followed you quietly. He wasn’t worried at all, he was scared and he hasn’t felt this way since he was a child when Gregor disfigured him. 

You walked down the hall and came to a halt when you saw Ser Meryn Trant standing outside of your father’s chamber. It meant that Joffrey was inside. You felt bile rise up. Clearing your throat, you took a deep breath to calm your nervousness. 

Meryn Trant saw you and opened your father’s chamber door for you. You looked over your shoulder and gave Sandor a look of nervousness. You took one last look of his brown eyes. It calms you for a moment and you’re able to walk inside your father’s chamber. You noticed Joffrey sitting down along with your mother while your father sat behind his desk. The door shut behind you as you walked towards your father. 

“Mother. Brother.” You greeted them and walked next to your father. You leaned down to kiss one of his pudgy cheeks. Robert gave you a smile and greeted you. You can smell the wine coming off your father.

“Sit, we have been waiting. Joffrey and your mother wish to discuss something with us.” 

You sat on the empty seat next to your mother. “Joffrey has told me that he would like Sandor as his personal guard.” Your mother said. 

So this was about Sandor. “What's wrong with Ser Meryn Trant?” You asked Joffrey. 

Joffrey wasn't expecting for you to say something. He thought you would obey instantly. You stare at Joffrey, you weren't going to let Sandor slip away from you. You were going to fight for him. 

Joffrey looked over at his father who was also staring at him. “Well, since Y/n is going off in Dorne. I want Sandor.” 

“I'm not going to Dorne. I told you.” Joffrey clenched his jaw. 

“You had refused your last marriage proposal. Father, are you going to accept this?” Joffrey asked Robert. 

“She isn't going to Dorne.” Robert said, making Cersei sit up. “Why not?” She asked him. 

“You dare to question me, woman.” Robert eyed Cersei. 

“Our daughter has not been wed, people will talk.” 

“You think I care what people say about her. She is my daughter. My word is law and final. She won't be shipped to Dorne.” 

You dislike how sometimes your father would speak to your mother. Robert was a down right misogynist but when it came to you he was different. You knew it had to do with Lyanna Stark, everyone told you how there was a resemblance between you and her. It was confirmed when Ned Stark and his family came to King's Landing to celebrate your name day. Ned couldn't take his eyes off of you and had even stuttered his sister's name after drinking with your father. 

You felt bad for Ned after so many years the death of his sister still had a hold over him just like Robert. He had begged forgiveness to you the next day. “Nonsense. No need to forgive, Lord Stark.” 

“He’s a good man.” Sandor told you after Ned left. You had finished a walk with Ned in the garden after you told him if it would be alright to share some stories about Lyanna. He gave you a smile and accepted. You learned a lot about her and intend to use this information. 

“He is.” You replied to him. 

“It will get him killed one of these days.” Sandor’s words made you sad. You didn't want to see the Lord of Winterfell dead. Unlike Joffrey and your mother, you enjoy their presence and have grown fond of his wife, Catelyn. 

“Our daughter should have been married and had babies by now. We can use her as an advantage, a leverage.” Cersei stood up from her seat and walked to the corner of the room where the cart of wines and cups were at. 

“I believe it has to be that atrocious dog always behind her. His face scares off any suitors. She will be married soon and doesn’t need him anymore.” 

“He protects me, mother.” You said folding your hands on your lap. Cersei looked over her shoulder at you. You looked over at your father because at the end of the day, he has the last day. 

“Father, remember the riot. Those men would have killed me. Sandor was there and killed them all. He killed those men.” Robert nodded remembering all too well about that horrible riot that broke out.  

You stood up from your seat and walked towards the desk. You kneel down near your father ignoring the tsk sound from Joffrey. You decided if Joffrey and your mother wanted to play dirty. So will you. 

“I do not wish the same fate as the lovely Lyanna Stark. May she be at peace.” Your father’s eyes shifted at the mention of Lyanna.

“I know. I have refused two marriage proposals now but I must tell you the truth, Sandor didn’t trust them. He had seen him, heard them speak ill behind my back.” You knew the words you were about to say will be a low blow to your mother and it will create a shift between you two but you had to do it. You didn’t want Joffrey to have Sandor. Sandor Clegane is yours. 

“You might think this is ridiculous, father.” You grabbed your father’s hand. 

“I want to be loved. The type of love you and Lyanna shared. Ned told me stories about your love with her and it warmed my heart. I crave for that love you both shared.” You flinched at the sound of Cersei throwing her cup of wine to the ground and walked out of the room. No one said anything for a moment. You just watched as the red wine from Drone stained the carpeted rug. This was your chance, your moment to seal it. Joffrey won’t take Sandor away from you. 

Sandor stood straight up when he saw the queen running out of the room. The door was opened and he looked ahead. He saw you kneeling by your father, looking up at him. 

“Don't take Sandor away from me. Don't let me have the same fate as the woman you loved.” 

Robert smiled down at you and cupped your face. “No need to worry. Clegane will stay by your side.” 

Robert looks towards Joffrey. “Stay with Ser Mery Trant. If you wish for a more depraved guard. Perhaps we can ask The Mountain to fill in.” Joffrey quickly shook his head. He sent a glare at you before standing up and walking out of the room. Sandor moved away from the door when he saw Joffrey with a pout on his face. Ser Mery Trant followed the prince. 

Sandor looked back at the doorway. Robert had helped you get up on your feet and gave you a hug. Sandor gave you a small smile when he saw you staring back at him with your own smile as you hugged your father. It worked. 

Sandor knew he would have to beg forgiveness for not believing in you. Your plan worked. Shame on him for ever doubting you, Princess Y/n Baratheon, the realm's delight. 

Chapter 2 ->

[enveine]

when doves cry - s. clegane: chapter one (pilot)

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+ word count: 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 Nyx. 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. Nyx, 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.

[axelsagewrites]

Sandor Clegane*Brat

Pairing: sandor x f!princess!reader

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

Word count: 2147

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

Masterlist Here

Kinktober List Here

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” you stuttered out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck yes. But you’re my brat,”

Taglist: @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy  @valeskafics

[catsteeth]

The Caged Bird and The Leashed Dog

+:✿ Chapter - 1 ✿:+ New Pretty Cage

next chapter

Summary: You are the daughter of Jon Arryn, you and your father travel to King's Landing with the intention of arranging a marriage for you. You catch a glimpse of The Hound during your first night in Kings Landing and it creates a mutual fascination even if he won't admit it. 

CW: slow burn, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, mention of animal death, alcohol consumption, mention of infant death, mention of parent(s) death, loras being very lgbtq , mention of arranged marriage. 

Leaving the Eyrie at first was exciting. You hated to admit it, you screamed at your father for even suggesting it, you cried like a child, but it was. The Eyrie was hardly a home, It was cold, isolated, and a constant reminder of what you’d lost. Kings Landing was warm, crowded, and offered a future outside of living in the past. 

Your father, Jon Arryn, was more than optimistic that you would find a suitor worthy of your name. Your aunt and now step mother, Lysa Arryn was elated at the opportunity of ridding her and Robin’s lives of you. 

After the death of your mother, Aemma of house Tully, your father married her sister, your aunt. You could have stomached it, you could have even forgiven it, if it weren’t for the fact your mother died during her labors of childbirth. 

As you and your father rode in the carriage, your mind couldn’t help but think of it. You’d spent your mothers entire pregnancy hoping she’d bear a son. You even prayed, prayed to the seven Gods whom you didn’t even believe in. You had hoped if the child was a boy, you wouldn’t have to be wed off to the best house name possible. 

What's worse, not only did the labors kill your mother, but it also killed your brother. You’d prayed for a brother and the Gods gave you a brother. But they took him away and your mother with him. 

You had spent days sulking, wallowing in grief. Unbeknownst to you, all the while your father was arranging his own marriage with Lysa. A son followed behind soon, Robin, the brat. You hated him, even if you were the same blood.

“We approach,” your father said under his breath. It was enough to bring you back to reality. 

“How long will I be here?” You asked, knowing the answer. Your father shot you a look with a furrowed brow, as if to say, “You already know.” You nodded as your concerned gaze turned to a glare as you looked out the carriage into the city. You lost your sweetness after your mother died, you were in no rush to get it back. 

“Who am I to wed?” You asked flatly, your stoic expression and eyes filled with venom shot outside of the carriage and away from your father. 

He sighed and looked upon you softly. “The Baratheon boys are eligible I suppose,” before he could finish you began. “Blondes, I have a distaste for blonde men.” You say as you rest your chin on your fist, still staring outside of the carriage. Your father let out a sigh about to lecture you on the importance of uniting families and the unimportance of such trivial things like personal happiness. But you cut him off, you look at him with eyes filled with venom, “I know you’ve a plan. You don’t go into anything blind.” he let out a small huff of a laugh as you arrived at the impressive castle. Your eyes did move from your fathers however. “You are just like your mother. Filled with angry eyes and hard questions.” Your eyes narrowed a bit, as the door to the carriage opened. 

“Welcome Lord Arryn, welcome Lady (Y/N)” 

Later that evening, you met the Lannisters and Baratheons over dinner. 

You took note of the “Baratheon boys” your father mentioned. Sons of the King. From all those story books you'd read as a girl you would have thought that Princes’s would be handsome, kind, gentle, and brave. However you weren’t a naive child anymore. So the scrawny and boyish looking Joffrey didn’t surprise you, but did disappoint you. And Tommen was boyish too however Tommen was just that, a boy, a child. You found yourself praying again, praying you wouldn’t be subjected to an arranged marriage between either of them. 

The dinner was mostly spent with your father and Robbert yammering, and occasionally people needing to remind you that you were being spoken to. 

It was strange, on one hand you were excited to be out of the isolation of the Eyrie, on the other hand you couldn’t care less about the people around you. That was until the royal family's guard stepped into the room. The man was giant, standing at least 6 '6, his shoulders were so broad he had to step into a room at an angle. You felt your eyes linger on the figure just a second too long. Reverting it back to your hands in your lap. 

You felt her cheeks blush, you felt yourself get embarrassed by this. But the thing is you’ve never seen a man like that. You never saw a man that big, a man that broad, ever. The Eyrie was secluded and maybe men from the vale were just shorter. Maybe this was a southern thing. Before you could roll the thought around your brain for long, the hulking figure walked to the opposite side of the room, it was only then when you noticed his face lit by the candle lights.You saw the left side of his face first. His face was masculine, there was nothing about his appearance that was feminine. As you analyzed his face, he turned it towards you which is when you saw the opposite of his face. It was horribly scarred, all the hair on his face was burnt off and ribboned in scarred tissue. 

It was beautiful. You’d never seen anything like it. 

You didn’t break your gaze as it was intertwined with the giant in the room. His deep brown eyes seemed somewhat confused with something about you. You felt the blush returning to your cheeks and nose as you studied him. You only broke your improper gaze once you felt the dread you feel everytime your fathers gaze comes towards you. You were able to look away before he noticed. He grabbed ahold of your hand and shot you a half hearted smile hoping your sour mood would magically improve with this minimal affection. However the daggers in your eyes did not surrender. 

You spent the following days walking around the castle, hoping for another glimpse at the man everyone feared so terribly. You asked your father about him, “He’s the royal family's dog, both the Cleganes are. They are not the kind of people I wish for you to be around.” You rolled your eyes, but the information you got from anyone else was no better. His monstrous and vile actions. His temper is so fierce he’d kill anyone without a second thought. But when you saw his eyes, those deep brown eyes, they weren’t mean or angry they were sad. They were scared.

Days in this shit city were long, and often just as boring as the days in the Eyrie. Only instead of a shivering cold there was a sticky warmth. Instead of Lysa and Robin there was Cersei and Joffrey. At least Robin didn’t kill little creatures and beat girls for fun. 

There were some advantages to living here however. There were more books, more food, more drinks, more dresses, more music. Living so high in the mountain such luxuries were sparse. Luxuries like friends, of which you felt you gained a few. The Tyrells for example were the only people you felt you could be truly honest with. Specifically Loras, there was a sense of vulnerability you two shared with each other. Both of you are unhappy with the prospect of marriage, arranged specifically. You remember the time he confessed to you that he was in love with a man. You walked through the garden together, those times became special. The only times when you and he could speak plainly. You always thought of how lovely it would be to have a friend, someone to trust solely. You always thought it would be a woman but you couldn’t complain. 

You held onto his hands as he confessed. He said he wished he could change, to not be what he was. 

“Never,” You held onto his hands tighter “Never wish for such things. Change even a single thing of you and you aren’t you. And you are my friend, my dearest friend.” You whispered, he embraced you tightly. You however had a slight growing distaste for Renly, a man who brought such tears to your friend. 

To anyone secretly observing, it was courting. To you and he, it was friendship. In its purest way. 

Maybe your father was true to his promise, he’d find you a man whom you’d love, a man who was brave and gentle. Only this love was different. As he was the only person you could trust.

The two of you thought of a plan for you and the wedding of one another. It was a good plan, the two of you would be bound by love and respect of which you both shared for the other. And the two of you would be free to find romantic, and sexual love freely. Loras teased you’d be able to fuck all the KingsGaurd if The Hound did not please you. It made you giggle but blush in embarrassment like a little girl.

Honestly you and he would have had the most healthy relationship of all the realm, and the only difference would be the two of you never consummated. But who would need to know? 

You almost went through with it after the death of your father. If it weren’t for the fact Cersei forced her company upon you so much, you could have ran to the nearest septon and made your marriage official. But Cersei never left you alone, you were either with her, or one of her ladies. And, and you hated to admit it, you’d miss those butterflies in your belly anytime you caught The Hounds gaze. It makes your cheek red and your belly burn. And you loved it, it might have been the only reason you could have lived during those days. You spent anytime you got alone with Loras talking about The Hound, a topic he grew bored of quickly. So you also spoke of your marriage. 

However these plans changed at the arrival of your cousin Sansa. Upon her arrival you saw a girl who would never handle the city she was stepping into with such naive big eyes and fairy tale fantasies of her future. You agreed with Olenna that Loras should attempt to court Sansa prior to her wedding with Joffrey, one last attempt at her freedom. You began to care less and less of your own.

Selfless yes, but stupid. 

During the tournament you sat beside Sansa, and her father Nedd Stark who had such an affinity to your father apparently it was transferred to you now that he was dead and gone. She begged her father to stop the tournament. You wanted to roll your eyes at it, but you also wished someone would stop it as well. The Mountain, Gregor Clegane, scared you. He was different from his brother. The Hound was almost as big but he had a stoic and sad nature to him, even though everyone told you to beware. The brother you feared was Gregor, he was unstable, rabid, and frightened you to no end. You’d hoped your plan of him using your mare, who was in heat, would work. 

It was a trick, but a good one, if it worked. And it did, it upsets and confuses Gregor's mount. Gregor was thrown off his horse. You felt a wave of relief as Sansa stood and cheered. What you didn’t account for was Gregor's reaction. Gregor, absolutely furious, decapitated his own horse. You, still seated, grabbed ahold of Sansa’s arm as Gregor made his way to Loras. You sat and watched, you hoped someone, anyone would intervene. Renly, Nedd, the King, anyone. 

Just as you were sure that was the end, “Leave him be!” The giant man behind you roared. The Hound swung his sword blocking a fatal blow to Loras. You sat there, your eyes not wide but narrowed and brows furrowed. You studied the battle between these two brothers. You wondered why, why would this man risk his own life just to save one of Loras? If he was the merciless monster that everyone had claimed, why do this? As you watched these men fight you noticed, the noble men all fought as they were trained, this man fought as he knew would kill. He fought with experience. 

You couldn’t help but find it exciting. 

As The King called off this fight, The Hound dodged a fatal blow he simultaneously bowed to the King. This made your lips part slightly as you struggled to conceal a smile. 

As Loras named The Hound champion everyone stood and clapped, but not you. 

You sat and stared at the man, your cheeks with a renewed blush on them. You smiled softly at him, his gaze soon met your own. Once met, it was hard to break. 

You managed to weasel your way out of the sight of the Starks and Lannisters to check on Loras. As you made your way to the stables you didn’t find Loras but The Hound. You felt like you walked into a brick wall as you saw the Giant drinking from a wine skin sitting against the stable that held your own horse. He didn’t look at you as he said “Your pretty boy isn’t here, girl.” as he took another long swig of the wineskin in his fist. 

“I’m sure I don’t know who you refer to.” You lie as you slowly walk over to your horse. 

“Fuck you don’t.” He hissed  “Dirty trick you and that boy pulled.” 

“No honor in tricks.” You say feeding your horse some feed from your palm. 

“Honor,” He scuffs “only cunts believe in that shit.” your brows raised, you’d never heard a man curse so much. They rarely did in the company of a Lady. 

“There was honor in what you did, It was quite brave, Ser.” 

“I'm not a ser, I already told your pretty boy that.” 

“Loras is not my ‘pretty boy’” you said in a mocking tone making the hound crack a small smirk. 

“Fuck off,” He scuffed, “Round that boy you’re as in heat as that bitch mare in that stable.” 

“Is that why you came here? You sit in front of my mare's stable because you wanted to accuse me of having relations with a friend of mine?” You eyes shift from your mare to glare at him with disgust. His eyes locked with yours. He hardly needed to look up at you to see your eyes. 

“I don’t like the way you look at me.” He said flatly

“I don’t like the way you talk to me.” Your eyes went back to your mare. “Don’t talk to me like that and I won’t look at you like that.”

“Don’t matter how you look at me, just that you do.” He said as he took another swig. 

You looked down contemplating what that could have meant as you looked over to him. 

“Didn’t I just fuckin’ tell ya not to do that?” He growled however your gaze did not falter. 

“You did not, you said you don’t like it.” You asserted mockingly, not at all scared of this man beside you, even though you maybe should be.

He stood, showing just how small you were in comparison to him. As he loomed over you, his eyes raked over every part of you, avoiding your eyes. 

“It will serve you well to listen to a man. Save yourself some pain. Some men, like to hit stubborn girls like you. Men who like to beat them.” He said in a somewhat more gentle tone than before. 

Your eyes met him once more, as you looked up at him, you realized he’d never been so close to you. 

“And what of you? Are you one of those men?” You asked teasing him, testing his patience 

“Maybe,” he rasped “You don’t know the things I’ve done,” 

You turned your body towards him to face him completely. 

“You should be scared of me, of any man in this shit city.” 

“I should be, but I’m not. I tried to be, but I can’t make myself feel frightened by you.” You said fidgeting with your necklace. 

“I’m a killer,” He wrapped his fingers around your throat, but his grasp was hardly there at all, almost like he was hovering his hand there. “I could crush your pretty throat.” 

“Do it.” You said quickly, His brows furrowed, “You think I want to live here? Do it.” you held onto his wrist, needing both hands to grasp his thick wrist fully. “No, you won’t hurt me.” You say softly. 

His hand runs down your throat and lays flat engulfing your chest in his palm as his fingers laid on your collar bone. He felt your heartbeat for a moment, savoring it.  “No, no little bird, I won't hurt you.” He conceded painfully, the name he called you made your cheeks blush. With that he turned away from you and stomped out of the stables. 

You felt yourself release a breathe, fuck, you thought to yourself. 

Few questions remained in your mind, ‘Why was he so gentle?’  and ‘Why did he make you feel this way?’

NOTE: Hi, this is my first time writing any fanfiction- believe me it will get better. We will be fuckin I promise we will be laying it down girls!! This one is mainly just world building. Let me know if there's anything you’d like to see going forward! 

Xoxo 

Bambi <3

[ladyinwriting18]

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.

[first-edition]

Fox and the Hound

Sandor Clegane x reader

Chapter 5

Read previous chapter here

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sandor.” You speak. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dont.” You speak. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I-i'm sorry i-” 

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

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

“Are you scared?” he says. 

“Yes…of many things.” you say 

“Are you scared of me?” he asks 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did lord clegane do this?” another asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nods to you before walking away. 

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

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

—---

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You what?” she asks. 

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

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

You nod. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?” she asks. 

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

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

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

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

“I don't really want t-”

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

“Now i really don't want to join y-” 

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

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

Chapter 6 here

[grcnseer]

NSFW Visuals ➢ HotD & GoT :: Part Two

synopsis :: various smutty scenarios & nsfw twitter links. Some were requested, others were not.

includes: Ser Erryk Cargyll, Aegon ii Targaryen, Sandor Clegane, Tormund Giantsbane, & Podrick Payne

warning(s): NO MINORS!!, smut, literal p0rn, not me posting this on my birthday lmao

SER ERRYK CARGYLL (m/f)

LINK :: loves taking care of you and would never expect anything in return

LINK :: he would know exactly how to get the reactions he wants from you...

LINK :: would fuck you deep and slow before leaving for his guard shift

LINK :: do I really need to explain??

LINK :: erryk would be hesitant the first time things got rough, but eventually he’d know exactly what you need...

LINK :: could and would spend the entire night between your thighs, he’d have no problem finishing in his hand

LINK :: takes his own pleasure in taking care of you...

LINK :: but you’d be sure he knew how appreciative you are ;)

AEGON II TARGARYEN (m/f)

LINK :: cannot stop thinking about this... the pace, trading slaps, the switch dynamic— it’s so aegon

LINK :: is absolutely the type to beg you to mark him and whining when you do

LINK :: he loves loves loves your ass especially when he’s drunk

LINK :: would promise he’s just gonna finish on your ass, but couldn’t help himself...

LINK :: another promise he tried to keep, but what could he say?? It just slipped

LINK :: mornings with aegon would be the best since he’s sober and needy

LINK :: he would be mean even when he’s taking care of you...

LINK :: I don’t think this one needs much of an explanation

I know these next three men have the biggest dicks in Westeros... I just KNOW IT...

SANDOR CLEGANE (m/f)

LINK :: sandor is big and he’s aware of it so he’d try his best to be gentle with you in the beginning <3

LINK :: cannot even imagine his reaction to this— would prob come immediately

LINK :: no words tbh

LINK :: once he’s sure you could handle it he’d have no problem getting rough with you...

LINK :: would want you to show him exactly what it takes to please you since he’s never taken the time to learn/care before you

LINK :: knows his cock can be intimidating and has no problem letting you take it at your own pace

LINK :: letting him take out his frustrations on you would be a different type of pleasure tbh...

LINK :: never thought he’d find someone who’d actually want him so doesn’t mind your occasional teasing

TORMUND GIANTSBANE (m/f)

LINK :: exactly how I imagine tormund fucking— the growling, playing with every part of your body, pausing to go down on you yes pls

LINK :: tormund would insist on bathing together, but if you agree once be prepared to have him there every time...

LINK :: would absolutely tease you over it, whispering for you to look at how deep his is...

LINK :: what was it he told jon? your cock shouldn’t go near her ‘til she’s slick as a baby seal?

LINK :: he would be so versatile, playing into your moods and fucking you soft & slow...

LINK :: but also taking full control of you when the moment calls

LINK :: tormund would love for you to ride his cock, something about seeing you use him to get yourself off gets his blood boiling

LINK :: I actually have nothing to say about this... I just think he would...

PODRICK PAYNE (m/f)

LINK :: always thinking about sitting on podricks lap, taking him as deep as you can while grinding together...

LINK :: he would actually be mesmerized by it and would absolutely blush when you catch him staring

LINK :: the most selfless man alive pls use him he loves it so much

LINK :: would be hesitant about taking your maidenhead, but wouldn’t deny another option...

LINK :: pod would be such a patient top, giving you time to adjust before he fully sinks in <3

LINK :: okay but a full night with podrick?? I think about it often... and need to know exactly what he did to those whores...

LINK :: would love eating your cunny, but if you offer him praise? he’d worship you...

LINK :: and he would be a big fan of... mutual gratification

[moonxknightx]

𝐈 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 --- Sandor Clegane x F!Reader ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 --- Smut ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 --- Game Of Thrones ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 --- 18+, smut, piv sex, choking, riding, missionary, breeding kink, ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 --- Being in love with a guard wasn’t the ideal thing for a princess. But that didn’t stop you from secretly meeting up with him purely just to fuck. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 --- “No one can ever find out about this.” (No.41) “I told you to stay quiet didn’t i?” (No.20)

“I NEED YOU.” Were the only words you said before the Hound, Sandor Clegane had pressed you up against the wall while smashing his lips against yours.

Being the only true born daughter of King Robert was hard. Really hard. you had many responsibilities for someone so young as yourself and you hated it. Let alone the fact that one day you will be married off to some prince or lord.

That was probably the scariest responsibility you had. You didn’t want to get married off to some prince or lord you didn’t know. You wanted to get married to Sandor Clegane or rather known as the Hound.

Yeah you saw that right. The Hound. You were madly in love with Sandor Clegane and you hated it because you knew there was no future with him as your husband. With you being a princess and him being a guard. It just wouldn’t happen.

But that didn’t stop you two from secretly meeting up with each other. Most of the time Sandor would sneak to your room, just like he did tonight.

The moment you opened the door to see it was Sandor, you pulled him into room and roughly kissed him, telling him how much you missed him after being apart for one whole day. How horrible right?

So here you were, pressed up against a wall while being kissed by your secret lover.

“Sandor please…i need you.” You begged while pulling away from Sandor’s lips. “You need me?” Asked Sandor in his usual low voice. “Yes i need you. Please fuck me.” You whined while bucking your hips against Sandor’s clothed cock.

“Get here.” Grunted Sandor while carrying you to your bed only to throw you down on it.

“No one can ever find out about this.” Sandor said while climbing on top of you. You gave Sandor a small nod before pulling him into you, roughly kissing him.

Sandor immediately kissed back while reaching for your night gown. “Take it off.” You whispered to Sandor.

Sandor’s gaze moved from your night gown to your face and back to your gown. You watched how Sandor slowly unbuttoned your night gown before pushing it down, revealing your naked body.

“Fucking hell.” Groaned Sandor while staring at your bare breasts. “Go on, touch them. I know you want to.” You smirked slightly while playing with Sandor’s hair.

Sandor slightly bit his lip while thinking about your words. He didn’t want to disrespect you in any way. He was your guard after all. He was supposed to protect you, not to fuck you behind closed doors. But here he was, laying in your bed while getting ready to fuck.

“Here.” You smiled softly while taking one of his big hands in yours, guiding it to your left breast.

Sandor’s breath slightly hitched when he felt your breast. But that didn’t stop him from softly kneading your soft flesh.

“So pretty.” He murmured before taking your left nipple in his mouth. You gasped when you felt his wet mouth on your skin. It felt so good that you wanted to feel more.

“Sandor…” You whimpered while throwing your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to your breasts.

Sandor only grunted while sucking on your nipple, he just couldn’t get enough of it.

“I need you Sandor.” You breathed while your head fell slightly back. Sandor gave you a small nod before getting up.

You watched how he took off his armor before he joined you in bed again, being completely naked.

“Come here.” Grunted Sandor while grabbing your waist, pulling you on top of him so you were straddling his lap.

You could feel his hard cock poking the inside of your thigh which turned you on like crazy.

“Do you need some preparation first?” Asked Sandor while slightly moving you up and down his lap. You shook your head. “I just want to feel you please.” You sighed softly while taking hold of his cock.

Sandor watched how you pumped his length a few times before positioning it at your wet cunt.

“Are you sure about this?” Asked Sandor while grabbing your hips tightly. “Yes Sandor i’m sure, just fuck me.” You whimpered before lowering yourself down on his cock.

“Fuck.” You moaned softly while feeling how Sandor stretched you out with his big cock.

“You’re so tight.” Groaned Sandor while slowly thrusting in and out of you. You could only moan at the feeling of Sandor fucking you. It even came to the point where you almost screamed out in pleasure, but Sandor was quick to shut you up with placing his hand over your mouth.

“Keep quiet. You don’t want people to hear us do you?” Asked Sandor while rocking your hips down onto his cock, making him moan slightly.

You quickly shook your head while grabbing both of Sandor’s shoulders to steady yourself.

“Smart girl.” Smirked Sandor before throwing you off of him, so you were now laying on your back.

You watched how Sandor grabbed both of your legs and placed them over his shoulders before positioning his cock back at your entrance.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard.” Sandor smirked before pushing his cock into your cunt, causing you to gasp in both pleasure and pain. You swore you could feel him in your stomach.

“Fuck Sandor!” You moaned loudly before immediately regretting it. Sandor stopped pounding into you to look you in the eyes.

“I told you to stay quiet, didn’t i?” Sandor asked in his usual low voice, making your body shiver slightly.

“I’m sorry.” You said quickly, hoping that Sandor would see past it. Unfortunately, he didn’t.

“If i tell you to stay quiet, you stay quiet. Understood?” Sandor asked while wrapping one of his hands around your throat.

“Yes sir.” You answered while wrapping both of your hands around his arm which was currently choking you.

“Good girl.” Praised Sandor before going back to fucking you. “You look so pretty underneath me.” Sandor smirked while pounding into you.

“I could fuck you for hours.” Grunted Sandor while grabbing one of your breasts with his other hand.

You could only moan at his filthy words. Of course you did it as quiet as possible, not wanting people to find out about your little secret affair with the Hound.

“S-Sandor i think i’m close.” You managed to say between moans while you arched your back as best as you could.

“Oh yeah? Is my little princess about to come?” Asked Sandor while deepening his thrusts. You rapidly nodded while closing your eyes in pleasure.

“Go on then, milk my cock like a good little girl.” Smirked Sandor while tightening his grip on your throat.

You did as you were told and released all over Sandor’s cock, causing him to grunt as he felt your juices running down his length.

“Such a good little girl.” Praised Sandor as he leaned down to sloppily kiss your lips. “Only for you.” You smiled shyly before kissing him back.

Sandor slowed his thrusts, wanting to help you ride out your orgasm before chasing his own release.

So when Sandor was sure you rode out your orgasm, he sped up his thrusts again, wanting to come as well.

“I’m gonna come.” Announced Sandor with a grunt while burying his head in your neck. “Fill me up Sandor.” You whispered into his ear, sending him over the edge.

“O-oh fuck!” Groaned Sandor as he came inside of you, filling your cunt with his seed.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you. Sandor placed a few kisses behind your ear before pulling his cock out of you.

You watched how he tried to get up from the bed, so you quickly grabbed his arm and pulled him back into you, causing him to chuckle while kissing your cheek.

“I have to clean you up princess.” Sandor chuckled while looking into your eyes. You rolled your eyes at his words which caused Sandor to laugh even more.

“Don’t call me that!” You groaned while covering your face with your hands. “What? A princess?” Asked Sandor with a smirk.

“Yes! You know i hate it when you call me that. Especially in private.” You told Sandor while pouting at him. “I apologize.” Said Sandor with a slight smile before really getting out of bed.

You watched how he collected a washcloth before climbing back into bed. “Come here girl.” Sandor said while pulling you closer by your ankles.

You slightly spread your legs and watched how Sandor began to clean the inside of your thighs. When he was done, he threw the washcloth away before laying down, pulling you against him.

You immediately nuzzled into his side while wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Thank you for this.” You whispered while looking up at Sandor. Sandor snorted slightly before leaning down to kiss you.

“You’re welcome princess.”

“Don’t call me that!”

(A/N): I am so sorry for the bad ending😭 i was really tired when i wrote this so i kinda wanted to finish it as fast as possible. I still hope you all liked it though! Thank you for reading <3

Fill out the tag-list form on my blog if you like to get tagged in more Sandor Clegane content!

[atomic--peach]

Her Grace's Handmaiden Pt 10.

(Sandor Clegane x Fem Reader x Cersei Lannister. SMUT: Domme Cersei, light knife play, fingering, bondage, light degradation, overstimulation, oral <male receiving>)

AO3 VERSION: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48276340

The day had finally come for you to return South and you were glad of it.

There was nothing worse, in your opinion, than being trapped in a clearly troubled place where there is nothing you can do to help.

Before you left, Theon Greyjoy stopped you. "Apologies, my lady. But, Lady Stark would like to have a word before you leave."

Catelyn Stark had holed herself up in main tower at her child's sick bed, never leaving as far as you knew.

You agreed, following the young man up the stairs and finding Lady Stark sitting in a worn wooden chair, hands clasped at her knees. She looked more ghost than woman.

"My Lady?" You breathed carefully, as if approaching a baby deer. "You sent for me?"

"Lady Clegane" Catelyn almost jumped when she saw you, as if she had forgotten summoning you at all, "Thank you Theon, you may go."

Left alone with Catelyn, you let your eyes wander the the little bundle in the middle of the bed. "How is he?"

"No change." Catelyn sighed, "but the Maesters say he is out of danger now"

She turned to you with sunken, sullen eyes. "I've asked you here to ask a favor."

"Anything, my lady" you nodded, feeling great pity for the woman before you.

"This will be my daughters' first trip south, away from home." Catelyn breathed, "Their father will be with them, and he is a good man, he is but...."

Fresh tears began to well up in her eyes and she wiped them away firmly.

"They've never been away from their mother before and I need...I am asking you to watch out for them, as if they were your daughters. Please, do this for me?"

"Oh of course, Lady Stark." You were relieved the assignment was so straight forward, "I will do everything I can."

You weren't expecting the sudden onslaught of physical contact as Lady Stark wrapped her arms around your neck.

"Oh thank you!" She sobbed, "thank you, thank you."

You nodded and waited for her to let go before clearing your throat. "Forgive me, Lady Stark. But I must go before they leave without me."

"Of course" she pulled away, face once again wet with tears, "go, go. You mustn't keep them waiting"

You gripped her shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze, "my prayers will be with you, Lady Stark"

---------

"What did she want?" Sandor grumbled, annoyed you had left him holding your mare's reigns to wait for you.

"She asked me to keep an eye on her girls." You sighed, "that poor woman, she looked closer to the grave than her son."

"It doesn't feel right" Sandor mounted Stranger as you pulled the mare up beside him. "Give me a good, clean death. I wouldn't want to get stuck between."

"Ugh" you pulled a face, "I don't want to think of you dying. There's been enough unpleasantness these last few weeks. I'm just glad to be going home."

Sandor didn't say anything, not wanting to point out that all that likely waited for you in Kings Landing were bitter nobles and nasty rumors about the upstart handmaiden who had slept her way into the Queen's Court.

He knew there was very little he could do to shield you from that. His speciality was in the feild and the fighting pits, with his sword or his fists. The gentry was an entirely different beast.

Part of him wanted to ship you off to the Westerlands to Clegane Keep. It was a generous bit of land gifted to his grandfather by the Lannisters, and had plenty of forest and farms to draw a profit from if you actually bothered to maintain it.

But the queen would never allow it, and a part of himself wouldn't either. Away from him meant closer to something else. Brigands, lustful lords, and worst of all, Gregor.

Sandor knew that at some point, some point uncomfortably soon, you would have to formally meet your new brother by law. Gregor was more beast than man, never sticking around court too long lest he find some stuck up noble to decapitate or unlucky lady to rape.

How would Gregor react to his younger brother marrying before he did? Probably producing a Clegane heir before he did? Would he see it as a challenge to his seat?

Sandor prayed he didn't.

But he didn't bring this up, not to you. Instead he rode in comfortable silence beside you, keeping an eye out for Prince Joffrey, who was probably being held hostage by his lioness mother trying to woo Lady Sansa.

That poor kid, he thought, that family was going to eat her alive.

___________

At dusk, you had come to an inn and thanked the gods for it. Who knew just a few weeks at Winterfell would soften your legs so much.

"Ow," you hissed as the chaffed flesh of your thighs touched. "Dammit"

"Sore?" Sandor smirked, his thighs of iron practically impervious to riding sores. "Perhaps you need something between them to make you feel better"

"You offering?" You challenged him with a teasing smile.

"Run along" the not-knight pulled down your hood and kissed the top of your head, "you queen wants you."

Cersei smiled as you approached the royal carriage. "Lady Clegane, come sit with us" she reached out to you and you took her hand carefully as you climbed into the carriage.

Inside was Lady Sansa and Princess Marcella who had been chatting like eager birds.

"You remember Lady Sansa?"

"Of course" you nodded to the spry 12 year old who nodded back politely. "How is the travel treating you so far?"

"I've never been so far from home before." Sansa confessed, "it's thrilling"

"I hadn't traveled much before this either" you agreed. "But this Northern countryside is just heavenly. So quiet."

"You must be exhausted, my darling" Cersei fussed "all that time on that beast, you must join me in the carriage at least once"

"I will try to tear myself away, your grace" you promised almost teasing, relaxing as the queen linked her arm in yours.

"You, guard." The queen swiftly called to random servant, "find the Hound and tell him Lady Clegane will be spending the evening with the Queen and not to worry." She glanced at you, eyes tracking your form like a wild cat, "She will be very well taken care of"

"At once, your grace" the servant scurried away and you smiled shyly.

"The king will not mind?" You whispered, unsure how much could be said in front of the younger girls.

"His Grace is busy orientating his new Hand" Cersei assured you, "trust me, he won't even notice. Now-" she raised her voice, indicating they no longer needed to talk in circles around Sansa and Marcella.

"I sent a raven to my dressmaker while we were in Winterfell and bless him, he was able to get a response back to me before we left. If we take your measurements and sent them to Kings Landing tonight, he should have some gowns ready for you upon our arrival. Any alterations needed can be done when we get there."

"Wow" you were awestruck at the efficiency. If left to your own devices you wouldn't have known where to begin. "I can not thank you enough, your grace."

"Nonsense" Cersei moved to leave the carriage, trailing you and the girls behind her like ducklings. "I will not have you looking any less than your best when you're received. Marcella, why don't you run along and find your Septa, I'm sure you have some lessons to go over. And Sansa, isn't you sister around here somewhere?"

The girls dutifully fled as Cersei's arm went from your elbow to your waist, "and you, Lady Clegane" she breathed, "will take me up to my room"

The innkeep had set aside the two largest rooms in the inn for the King and Queen. Cersei's room contained a large 4 poster bed, a writing desk, full length mirror edged in carved oak, and a fireplace.

"Have you ever had your measurements taken?"

"No" you swallowed, knowing damn well that wasn't why she'd stolen you away for the evening.

"Stand up straight" Cersei pulled a measuring tape from her bags. "Arms at your sides, there's a lamb"

The Queen's breath warmed the back of your neck as she measured your legs, your waist and bust, and your arms finger tip to finger tip.

For a moment you thought you had fooled yourself. She hadn't called you up here for anything more than measurements, that was all.

Your skin prickled as the leather measuring tape brushed your throat suddenly, unsure when it had even gotten there. The strap pressed against your windpipe lightly, not enough to restrict you but enough to threaten.

"Put your arms behind your back" Cersei purred into your ear, nipping gently at the lobe until you obeyed. You felt the thin leather wrap around your right wrist, then your left before they were pulled together tightly.

"I want to tell you a story" Cersei's hands fell to your hips, guiding you to the full length mirror. Her chin rested on your shoulder thoughtfully, running her hands up and down your body.

"When I was a little girl, I had a doll. Well, actually, I had a great many dolls. But one doll in particular was my favorite. I thought she was the most beautiful doll in the world."

As the story began, you watched in amazement as her elegant hands cupped your breasts and rubbed tender circles on your hips. It was like they moved on their own, Cersei fully engrossed in her own story and letting her hands grope and feel as they pleased.

"I took that doll with me everywhere I went. I brushed her hair, made sure all her dresses were clean and beautiful. When her paint chipped, I made my father's craftsmen repaint her as if nothing had happened"

Her hands found your clothes nipples now, rubbing her thumbs over them until the hardened and ached.

"Then, one day, my father informed me that I had grown to old for dolls. He made me throw her away with all her beautiful dressed, and I cried and protested but in the end the doll was gone." Cersei's hands came back to your shoulders, hugging you to her in a surprisingly tender embrace. She kissed down your next and back up again until she reached the shell of your ear.

"But now, my doll has come back to me, hasn't she?"

"I- yes, my queen" you agreed, not fully understanding but playing along.

"Hmmm" she cooed and looked you up and down in the mirror, pulling at your riding gown critically. "I don't like this dress on my doll."

You gasped as the skirt of your dress was sliced down the back. "Your Grace!"

"Shhh sh sh." Cersei hushed you, fingering the small blade she kept hidden in her sleeves, flashing the blade at you in the light. "Don't flinch now, I don't want to knick you"

You tried to keep as still as can be as the sound of blade cutting through wool filled the room and more and more of your body was exposed to the cool air. You jumped when the knife ripped open your bodice, earning you a sharp slap on the tit that stung wonderfully.

"Now look" Cersei forced you to look back into the mirror, hands once again traveling up and down your now exposed flesh. "Isn't that so much better?"

"Y-Yes, your grace" you closed your eyes to the slight but Cersei bit into your shoulder.

"Keep looking" she hissed, cupping your bare breast in both her hands and making you watch as she pinched and pulled your sensitive nipples.

Once a hot flush had filled your face and chest, Cersei pushed your legs apart with a growl. "Let me see" she taunted, slipping a hand down your back, affectionately toying with your bound wrists before you saw her clever hand appear between your legs in the mirror.

She stroked your folds softly, reveling in how quickly you got wet for her.

"When I do this" she stared into your eyes through the mirror, "I want you watching. I want you to see how beautiful you look getting fucked. If you stop watching, or if you close your eyes, I will punish you. Are we clear?"

"Yes, my queen" you were trembling by now, desperate for her to touch you and oddly intrigued by your own reflection.

The queens graceful fingers wasted no time dipping between your wet folds, gathering your wetness before slipping up to rub your clit. It was an usual experience, being forced to stand, forcing your knees not to buckle as she pinched the nub between two fingers and rubbed in circles.

"Eyes open" Cersei cracked her free hand against your ass and your eyes shot open instantly.

Once your knees were buckling, Cersei slipped three fingers inside of you. The intrusion almost made you double over, if she hadn't caught you by the hair and kept you standing.

"Remember to keep quiet this time sweetling," Cersei chuckled into your ear as you bit your lip to keep the moans from spilling out. "That's right, good girl."

The sting from your scalp meeting the relentless pleasure between your legs had you struggling to keep from falling off the edge, but you didn't. You wanted to keep going for as long as you could.

"My sweet girl, my little doll. I know your close" Cersei pressed, curling her fingers up into your g-spot. "You know, everyone had has the pleasure of watching that sweet little face of yours cum. Me, Jaime, your precious Hound."

She taunted you as you struggled against your bindings, the restraint becoming all too much.

"Everyone but you. Have you any idea how pretty you look, when your eyes roll back, sweating, flushed? It's fucking addictive."

The queen knew you were fighting it off, desperate to keep this going, to be the center of her frantic and cruelly pleasurable attentions.

"Stubborn little slut, aren't you?" she growled. "Fine then, you can't hold out forever"

The withdrawal of her hands felt like punishment and you sealed your mouth to muffle an involuntary sob that turned into a whine.

"Don't worry, doll." The queen dragged the chair from the writing desk to the mirror, pushing you down into it with a menacing grin

"You're not done until I say you're done"

--------------

It was the hour of the Rat when Sandor finally decided to look for you.

Neither you nor the queen had been to dinner, and you hadn't been seen for hours.

"I have an idea" Robert had grumbled, three sheets to the wind.

Approaching the highest floor of the inn, Sandor paused moment. It sounded like something had fallen with a dull thud.

Stripped of plate, he tried to be a quiet as possible as he drew closer. He didn't know why he had come, it's not like he didnt know what was going on behind that door.

Part of it, he presumed, tracked back to that night in camp when your cried of agony and pleasure had been the symphony of the night.

A siren's song.

He could hear that song again, but it was muffled now.

"Have you learned your lesson, sweetling?"

He strained to hear the response and sucked in a breath when the sound of flesh hitting flesh drew forth a drawn out moan.

"Too fucked out to answer? That's fine" The queen purred, "I wonder how your husband would feel seeing you like this? Blissed out, cunt swollen and drenched, ass bruised. Would he be disappointed by his little slut of a wife?"

The description alone has Sandor growing hard as his mind wandered.

"No, don't look so sad. I don't think so" Cersei's voice became something resembling encouraging. "I bet he'd find you just as beautiful as I do. Should we ask him? He's right outside."

Sandor's stomach dropped as the bedroom door squealed open and he stumbled back. Queen Cersei was draped only in a floor length silk robe, and from this angle it covered very little.

"Looking for your wife?"

The Hound's mouth went dry and silent as the queen chuckled at his embarrassment.

"Come along, she's right this way."

The queen had never really spoken to him before, let alone touched him, so it was strange when she grabbed his large hand with her lithe one and pulled him into the bedroom, closing the door firmly.

You were probably more beautiful now than he had ever seen you.

Laid out on the bed like a girl from the gods. Your arms stretched above your head and held in place by a leather strap exposed the whole of your body for his eyes to feast on. Your nipples were puffy and lightly bruised, shining with saliva to match the swollen lips of your cunt. Your eyes were screwed shut as if trying to block out everything in the world, trying to bring yourself back to earth, and your hair was fanned out in the pillows behind you like a halo.

"What do you think Clegane?" The queen prompted you. "Do you think she's had enough?"

He blinked hesitant, entirely unsure how to interact with the royal in this situation.

"Don't be shy" Cersei moved across the room, pouring herself a cup of wine then offering his some. He accepted.

She sat next to you on the bed, removing the bindings at your wrists and offering you a sip from her wine cup. "Darling? Your knight is here for you. He got worried, isn't that sweet?"

Your eyes settled on him over the rim of the cup and before he could argue you were pulling him by the hands towards the bed.

"Darling" you cooed into his ear. "Sweet husband. My love, please hold me" you begged him in a voice so sweet it would have killed him to deny you.

He swept you up carefully, melting as your curled your face into his chest sighing.

"One moment now" Cersei pulled a loose frock from a chest. "You can't very well walk her through the inn like that."

Carefully she helped you slip into the dress. It was as if you were drunk, only there was no smell of wine or beer on you. You stumbled occasionally, leaning on either your husband or your lover to catch yourself.

"Goodnight sweetling" Cersei killed your mouth firmly, then your forehead. "Go on now"

Clegane moved to pick you up again but as he bent down he froze. Cersei pressed her soft lips against his gently, almost chastely if he hadn't smelt the distinct scent of sex on her.

"Be good to her" she leaned into his ear, hand pressed against his shoulder, "I knew there was a reason I liked you."

By now you were able to walk, and the bliss filled fog that had clouded your mind was clearing.

"We should go" you urged them, pulling your shell shocked husband gently. "Before the king catches us"

"She's right" Cersei agreed, "a woman is one thing, but if Robert thinks I've pulled you into this that's all our heads"

Rushing out into the night, you gasped as Sandor pressed you against a wall when you turned the corner. His kiss was insistent and fierce, hands cupping your jaw firmly.

"Darling." You sighed into his mouth, "did you miss me that much?"

He breathed heavily, trying to figure out what to say. "Is it always like that?"

You laughed and shook your head "I think she was just in a really good mood"

"I may have to learn a thing or two from our queen" Sandor growled, "You looked like an angel laid out like that."

His hips pressed against you hard, grinding slightly and you smiled tiredly. "Darling, I dont think I have it in me to go again"

He grumbled in disappointment but moved to free you until your hands gripped his hips.

"But, my throat feels just fine"

[vikingstoner69]

Fandom: game of thrones

Pairing: sandor/reader

Summary: you have known sandor for years and have loved him for years now you finally give in.

---------------------

You looked out the window of your chambers and saw the water on fire and your heart dropped. You knew sandor was out there somewhere. 

"It's not a good night to be alone" you jump and spin around seeing sandor in the far corner of the room. He looked shaken but unharmed. 

"Sandor! What are you doing here?" You ask in a rush and he stands up and walks closer to you and looks out the window. 

"I'm getting out of here, I could take you with me" he says looking down at you and you bite your lip. You had feelings for Sandor you always had even before he became the king's guard dog. 

"Yes i'll go with you" you say grabbing things you would need and you both snuck off into the darkness. 

-5weeks later-

You grin and look around at the small room and the large bed as Sandor undoes his armor and you see the gash on his shoulder. 

"Get cleaned up and I'll take care of that so it won't get infected" you say leaving the room and going to the bar while he washed. After some time you go back up to the door and find him shirtless and clean. 

"There is water left," he says, not looking at you. Sandor takes a seat and you grab your bag and set it down next to him and step between his legs.

"I already took my bath while you were drinking, thank you by the way for bringing me with you" you smile looking at his brown eyes as you clean and stitch his wound. Sandors hand rubs lightly on your hip and you look down at his lips.

"I told ya I'd keep ya safe" he grunts and you have the urge to kiss him. you push that thought away and wipe the blood off his shoulder. 

"That you did, I know we used to fight back when we were kids but can you teach me? I don't want to be totally useless" you grin and he grunts looking up at you. 

"Fine we'll find you a blade" he says standing up and putting his shirt on and then his armor back and you watch his every move. 

"Alright well I'm off to bed" you tell him as you crawl in the big bed and close your eyes. 

-Later that night-

"SANDOR!" You scream sitting up straight in bed and coming face to face with sandor. 

"Your fine little tiger, just a bad dream" he says somewhat softly and you look in his brown eyes and you feel the tears run down your face. You bite your lip and hold back a sob and he sighs. Sandor moved you over and you clung to him your nightmare playing over and over again in your head. Sandor laid back on the bed and you curled into him. 

"They killed you" you say softly into the darkness. You feel his fingers lightly stroke your arm. You sniffle and wipe your eyes and cuddle closer to him. 

"It was just a dream, no one has killed me yet" he chuckles in the darkness, the full moon shining in through the window. 

"I don't think you understand sandor! I literally just watched you die! I literally just felt my heart rip open when I realized I couldn't save the man I love!" You snap in a rant not realizing what you said till it was too late the words were out now and there was no going back. 

"You don't love me girl you just think you do" he growls standing up and leaving you alone in the bed that now felt too big.

"Why is that so hard to believe! An don't you dare say anything about how you look?" You yell sitting up on your knees in the bed. Sandor looks back at you and before you blink he is back In front of you. 

"You're playing a dangerous game girl" he growls and you feel your body heat up, your heart sped up. 

"I don't care sandor! I don't care if you have killed and done awful shit! Guess what? So have I! I've loved you since we were teenagers!" You snap, losing your balance on your knees you start to fall forward into his chest but he catches you and you look up at him. Sandor looked tore, getting back your balance you bring yourself closer to him and he sighs. 

"What do you want? Huh? Want me to fuck you is that it? Make you mine? Trust me girl you don't want that" he growls his eyes have darkened and his body is tense and you bite your lip. 

"That's exactly what I want sandor clegane! I want you to fuck me! I want you to make me yours" you tell him honestly you feel his body vibrate as he growls and one hand goes into your hair brining your face closer to his. 

"Best be sure little tiger once I fuck you then your mine" he says gruffly. You bite your lip and try to calm your heart rate. 

"I want this sandor, please" you beg softly, he growls and crashes your mouth to his in a rough hard kiss making you moan. You take the time to run your hands on his chest and up his arms you could feel his body tense under your touch till finally your hands were in his hair. Sandor pulls back long enough to rip your top off exposing bare breasts. 

"I thought about doing this a thousand times" he growls, taking each breast in each hand and then rolling the nipple making you moan and your back to arch. Sometime after you went to sleep he had taken his armor back off leaving him in his shirt and pants. You tugged on his shirt and gave a growl when you couldn't get his shirt off making him chuckle. 

"You're not the only one who has thought of doing things" you smirk when he pulls his hands away from your breasts to take his shirt off and you lick your lips. You push him back a bit and stand up taking off your pants leaving you naked before him. 

"Minx" he growls, reaching out to touch you but you step back. You place a hand on his strong hard chest and you turn him to the bed. Sandor sits down on the bed and you straddle him. His hands go to your ass and hips and you grind down on the bulge and you moan. 

"I have thought about how good fucking you would feel so meny times" you moan before kissing him deeply. Your hands roam his body making him groan. Finally you pull back from the kiss as you undo his pants and you slowly pull his hard cock out. You slide down his hard body to the floor in front of him on your knees and you look up at him before sucking the head of his cock. 

"Seven hells!" He groans, his hand going into your hair and the other holding himself up as you suck him. You moan around his cock and take him as deep as you can, making yourself gag a bit before coming up for air. 

"I want you to cum down my throat" you tell him, sucking the tip and moaning at the taste of him. Your clit throbs so you use your hand and slowly rub your clit and grind down on your hand. Sandor grabs your hair and fucks your throat and mouth. 

"Fuck that mouth of yours, want me to fill it full? You gonna swallow what I give you?" He growls feeling so close to cumming in your hot wet mouth. You moan and suck hard you feel his body tense and then his cum is squirting down your throat. You moan and suck taking everything he had to to give you till he pulls you off your knees and back to straddling him. You show him your tongue and then swallow and then show him again. 

"Fuck me sandor, fuck me hard" you tell him grinding down on his hard cock. Sandor grabs your hip and flips you on your back. Sandor hovers over you and grinds up into you making you cry out. 

"Don't hold back any of those pretty sounds, I wanna hear what I do to you" he growls rubbing your clit making you moan and your hip thrusts up. 

"Don't tease me, fuck please don't tease" you beg at his light touch. Your body felt like it was on fire. You were so hot and wet for him. Sandor slowly pushes his thick finger deep inside you, making you moan.

"So tight an warm" he groans, you cling to his arm as he fucks you with his finger adding another finger making you feel so full. Sandor fucks you on his fingers as he rubs your clit making you moan and cry out as you cum hard on his fingers, his eyes never leaving your face. Slowly pulls his fingers out of you and you watch as he sucks them clean making your cunt clench. 

"Fuck me sandor please" you beg. Sandor spreads your legs wider so he could fit and you look up at him your hands running up his arms to his shoulders and down his back, making him growl and thrust frowned hard. His cock going deep inside you making you both moan at the feeling. 

"Fuck your so tight!" He groans feeling how tightly you felt around him, your nails digging into his back and shoulders.  

"You feel so good sandor more please!" You moan thrusting your hips up and his hips snaps into you hard and you cry out as he fucks you hard and deep. 

"You're mine" he growls sucking and biting your neck as he fucks you into the bed. You moan leaning up you kiss him deeply biting his lip and flipping him over so you are on top taking him even deeper than before.

"Oh fuck! You're so deep" you moan your head falling back as you slam down on his cock riding him roughly. Sandors hands touch every inch of you. 

"That it ride my cock" he groans as he watches you. You moan your nails leaving marks on his chest. You felt so close to cumming.  Sandor grunts and you're on your back once again with him taking you deeply. 

"I'm so close" you moan, clinging to him your nails leaving marks down his back making him groan and you tighten around him from the sounds he was making. 

"Come on then" he grunts pounding into you he leans down and kisses you sloply biting your lip. 

"Sandor!" You cry out as you cum hard around him. He grunts and his body tenses and he cums hard. 

"Seven hells" he pants resting his head on yours, you both trying to catch your breaths. Once sandor gets his breath he rolls off you laying on his back and you look over at him. 

"Did you mean it? You pant and he grunts and looks at you. 

"The hell you on about?" He asks, looking at you. You get on your knees so your looking down at him. 

"You said I'm yours, did you mean it?" You ask looking at his brown eyes and he leans up on his elbow and grabs the back of your head and crashes his mouth to yours kissing you deeply making you moan kissing him back just as deeply. 

"Aye your mine" he growls against your lips and you nip his. You push sandor down on his back and you straddle him. His hands going to your waist and ass. 

"An your mine" you grin and he runs his rough hands up your back making you shiver and your hips rock. You knew it would be a very long night. 

[justagirlwholikesadam]

Sandor's Secret

Sandor Clegane x Fem! Reader

Summary: Sandor has a secret hidden away from everyone.

A/n: I should be writing The Wolf Among Men but I can't. Once i have an idea, I need to let it out. This is one of them. I do hope you enjoy and remember please comment. I read all the comments and it makes me so happy and gives me the boost to keep writing. ENJOY! - L

WARNING: NFSW, we are fucking, whore, Sandor likes it dirty, Hidden away from everyone, mention of abuse but not from Sandor. Border Credit: @black-dread

Word Count: 3.4K

Sandor has a secret, he’s been having it for a few years now. No one knew about it and he tends to keep it that way but the ones who were too nosy...there were taken care, of course. 

No one will ever take you away from him. 

Sandor has too many enemies in King’s Landing because of his brother’s wicked ways. His brother, Gregor had enemies throughout the seven kingdoms and most of the time Sandor will be the one suffering the consequences. Enemies usually thought that they could fight or hurt Gregor’s little brother to get back at him, but at the end of every fight the enemy is lying cold on the ground with their throat split open or a sword rammed into their stomach. That's why he has hidden you. 

His shift taking care of the king’s bastard ended and he was walking to his small home. He lived a few miles away from King’s Landing. He had declined the housing that the king provided him in the castle. He didn't want it. He liked his privacy, was what he said. Making it home, he walked Stranger to the small stable near the house. Making sure the horse was fed and had fresh water, he shut the stable door before walking to the house. He stood in front of the wooden door and knocked five times and jiggled the knob. This was a sign he came up to make it known it was him outside. 

A few seconds later, the door opened and he was pleased at the sight in front of him. 

He walks in before you can jump in his arm. This was something he had gotten used to and he loves it how you greet him like this after a hard day taking care of the spoiled brat. You didn't mind the blood or the sweat on him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You kissed him on the lips. He puts you down and you immediately start to help him remove his armor. Sandor can smell the stew warming on the fire as he sits on the chair near the dining table. You knelt down in front of him and began to unlace his boots. 

“Don’t gotta-” 

“Hush.” You cut him off with a smile. You had this conversation with him many times before. He told you he didn't expect any special treatment since he bought you. You would shake your head and tell him it’s something you are willing to do just like you're willing to continue to sleep and live with him. 

You were fresh off the boat when you came to King's Landing. No family and no money, there was the only thing to do. Sell your body. Little Finger inspected your body, lifting your arms and touching your breasts. He looked pleased when he grabbed a handful of your ass and sent you to an empty room. That night Little Finger had told the girls, the King's guards would be coming after a successful hunting trip and the whorehouse started to prepare for their paying guests. 

Guards came in and you can hear their laughter and hollering as they picked their woman of the night to keep them warm. The whispers came when you saw the largest and tallest man you have ever seen walk in. You had no idea who this man was but everyone froze for a minute before turning away from him. 

“Looking for a girl.” He told Little Finger. The smaller man gave him a smile and spoke to him in a low tone. You looked down at the ground when you heard the words, fresh and unused. The tall man handed him a few coins. Little Finger called out for you and the ladies gave you a pity look as you walked towards him. 

“This is her, Sandor. Easy on the eyes. She just came in. No one has touched her.” You grew the courage to look up at the tall man called Sandor. You realized why everyone was whispering. Half of his face was disfigured, burn.

“Hello, Sandor.” His brown eyes softened for a moment when you greeted him. 

“Go on, take good care of the prince’s guard.” You nodded and without a single thought you grabbed one of his large hands. You looked up at him when you felt him tensed up but he quickly relaxed when you began to walk with him to your room. You kept ignoring the stares from the girls and the other guards as you continued to hold his hand. You wondered why everyone was making such a big deal about it. There were men and women with facial scars, it was nothing new to you. 

You grew worried as you began to think more about it. What if he was aggressive? Mean? What if it gave him pleasure in harming the woman he slept with? 

Opening the door for him, he continued to stare at you closely. 

“Is something wrong, Ser?” You asked as he walked inside and sat on the edge of the bed after removing his sword. His eyes are still on you as you shut the door.

“I'm not a Ser. Not a knight.” He huffed out as he leaned his sword on the bed frame. “I see.” You told him before slowly walking towards him. “You are new around here? He asked. 

“I am. Is it that obvious?” You said as you kneel down to help him unlace his large boots. 

“You don't know me?” He asked as you began to remove his boot and quickly started working on the other. You shook your head at him and looked up to meet his gaze. 

“I'm sorry, I don't but from what Little Finger said you're the Prince’s guard so you must be very important. I hope I can meet your satisfaction, Sandor. I’m new at bei..” Your words came into a halt when you looked away. 

“Being a whore.” He finished your sentence. You nodded at him as you took his other boot off. 

You were about to stand up when he raised his hand. “Stay down.” You obeyed and looked ahead, you grew red when you were staring between his legs. He spread his legs and you saw the outline of his bulge. He leans forward and his hand goes under your chin, making you look up at his face. He looked so confused when he saw no fear in your eyes.

Insecurity started to brew deep in your chest and you began to thought. Were you not up to his standards? He must have many beautiful women thrown at him because of who he is and who he works for. 

“Sandor, I know I’m new but I swear I will be good. I don't wish to anger Little Finger. I fear he may kick me out.” You blurted out to him. You feel him touch your cheek and your hair. With his index finger under your chin, his thumb begins to trace your bottom lip. He pulled your bottom lip and you opened your mouth letting him put his thick thumb in your mouth. Closing your mouth, you began to suck on his thumb. 

Sandor sat up straight in his seat when you brought him a bowl of stew and a plate of fresh bread. He nodded at thanks to you and began to eat quickly. He was starving and the woman in the kitchen of the castle doesn't know how to make food taste good like you. He looks across the table to see you sitting down with your own bowl. He found himself glad, he never would have thought he would be living with a woman. He thought he would end up alone for the rest of his life. Now he has a beautiful woman living with him, cooking for him, treating him like a person and keeping him warm. 

He found himself thinking about that night, he met you. Sleeping with you was something he never experienced. Perhaps it was because you were so kind to him, you didn't flinch when you stared at his face. You were an eager thing to please and he loved it. Sandor knew his fate was sealed when you kissed him at the doorway the morning after. You didn't have too, he told you but you simply told him. You wanted to and if it was alright to kiss him again. He leaned down to meet you lips and kissed you hard that it left you breathless as he walked out of the whore house. He came back a week later, he couldn't stay away from you for too long. You and your sweet cunt occupied his mind. When he asked for you, Little Finger’s second in command gave him a small frown. 

“Half off. Some animal hit her.” Sandor gave her a face but nodded, giving her the payment. 

He walks to your room and the door is half open. He looked inside of your room, you're sitting on the edge of the bed. You felt his presence and looked at the door. Rage engulfs him completely when he sees you with a black eye and the side of your face is bruised. 

“Sandor.” The way you said his name made snap back into reality and he quickly walked away. 

Sandor finished his bowl before you, he got up to grab the pitcher of ale. He notices it’s almost empty and gets up to refill. He sees you’re about to get up from your seat to do it. 

“It’s fine.” He tells you softly, pushing you back down on your seat. “Finish eating.” He tells you and gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze. 

He turns back to the table when he finishes and refills your cup as well before sitting back down on his seat with a sigh. Today was a hard day, he's tired on his feet. You noticed it when you finished your bowl. You tell him, you’ll heat his bath water. You're about to grab his bowl as well when he grabs your wrist, pulling you towards him gently. He knows he's strong and the last thing he ever wants is to hurt you. He can't hurt you, you're his. He'll die before hurting you. Taking the bowls from your hands, he places it back on the table. 

Sitting on his lap, you wrap an arm around his neck. You're blushing at his gaze. Sandor staring at you was something you always blushed at. He stared intensely and it made you wet. No words need to be said because both of you knew what each other wanted. Cupping his cheek, you feel his scars under your touch. You liked the touch of it since the first time you laid with him and you still loved it even after he took you away from the whorehouse. 

Sandor returned a few minutes later with a maester. He stood at the corner of the room while the maester looked at your eye and your face. You wondered how Sandor knew that Little Finger hadn't even offered to get you looked at. When the maester was gone, Sandor walked towards you. 

“Get your belongings, girl. We are leaving.” 

Sandor is the one to pull you in for a kiss. He tasted like ale and the stew, he was so warm as well. He tightens his hold around you as you open your mouth, his tongue slips inside of your mouth and you can't help but moan. His arm around you, his other hand goes between your legs. He groans as he pushes the hem of your dress up so he can touch your bare skin, your bare cunt. He groans once more in your mouth when he feels your lips, he spreads them with his fingers to touch your clit. You pull away from his lips to cry out as his fat thumb circles around it. He nips and kisses the side of your neck enjoying the whimpering coming from your mouth. 

 “I think about this cunt all the time. I smelt it all day on my mustache.” The thought of your nectar on him all day made you blush. He woke you up this morning at dawn with his head between your legs.

“Sandor.” You whispered his name. He looks at you, waiting for you to continue. 

“Can I suck your cock? Please.” He nods as his eyes twinkled with excitement. You slide down from his lap and kneel between his legs. He stares down at you as your hands unlaced his trousers. Licking your lips when you pull out his cock. It feels heavy and hot in your hand. You bring your other hand to get a better hold of it. 

Sandor starts to breathe heavily as you lick his head, humming as you tasted his salty pre-cum. 

“Fuck.” He whispered under his breath when you spit on his cock, he felt a blob of spit run down his shaft. Your hands are jerking him as you start to suck him off. You moaned as his cock stretches your mouth wide as you try to take him all in. 

Sandor brings a hand behind your head, grasping your hair as you start to gag on his fat cock. 

“Shit-t. Yes, just like that.” He huffs out when feels your hand cupping his balls over the trouser. Sandor throws his head back when his cock reaches the back of your throat. 

His praise only makes you suck him harder, your jaw starts to ache but it’s worth it. Seeing this giant man turn into putty because of your mouth was everything to you. Breathing through your nose you reach all the way to the end. Sandor moans when he feels your nose touch his pubic bone.  

Sandor pulls you away and you gasp when you feel him sliding out. Tongue out, breathing harshly for air and eyes filled with tears, you look up at him. 

“Come here.” He tells you and helps you up. You lean against him as he kisses you. He kisses your cheeks frantically as you try to catch your breath. 

“Bed.” He nods at you as he stands up removing his clothes.

He feels like his nickname, a hound staring at you. His nose is tingling as he watches prey, you undress. You had looked over your shoulder and blushed when you met his face. He’s ready to pounce, ready to sink his teeth on the only good thing he has in his life. 

“Everything okay?” He watched you walk over towards him when you were done. He wanted to purr when he felt your hand rub his stomach all the way up to his chest. You were biting your lips when you touched his thick dark hairs on his body. His chest was hard and you can feel the old heal scars splatter on his chest. 

Sandor just nods. He doesn’t answer. Cat got his tongue when he feels you touch his cock with one hand. You let out a surprise yelp when he grabbed you by the chin making you look up at him as he kissed you. He kissed you so messy and passionately, he nips your lips and consume you. When your legs start to wobble from being on your tippy toes, you pull away from him. He gives a mad huff and pushes you gently on the bed. 

You push yourself to the middle of the bed, opening your arms for him as he gets between your legs. You wince from the sudden movement. Sandor is a big man, his waist is wide. When he’s on you, he completely covers you under his frame. 

“Fuck.” He moans when his lips start to attack your chest. He pinches your nipples making you cry out, he drowns you out with his kisses. 

“Tell me? How? Now?” He says as he licks the valley of your breasts down to your navel making you squeal. He pulls away for you to move. 

“Like the first time.” You mumbled turning around with your ass in the air. You earn yourself a slap on the ass, it makes you quiver. You let out a moan when he gets behind you, a heavy hand on your shoulder while the other rests on your hip. 

“You came all over my cock the first time, remember?” You nod at him, shoving your face in the pillow so he didn’t have to see your blushing face. 

“Milked me dry, girl. Took all my cum deep inside of you.” Sandor says as he brings his hand from your hip down to your ass. He squeezes it, pulling a cheek to the side to see your waiting holes. He’s not surprised when he feels your pussy dripping wet. He growls because of it and cups your mound possessively. A smirk grows on his face when he feels the soft curled hairs on your mound get wet as he spreads your slick all over your mound. 

You cry his name out as he holds you, your wet cunt is throbbing for his cock. 

“Please. Fuck me.” You beg him and his hands goes back to your hip making you arch your back. You feel the hair on his stomach touch your ass as he leans over you, you clenched the pillow under you as you feel the tip of his cock. It’s so hot and big, Sandor’s above you, giving you praises as he splits you open. He even gives your ass a rub when he slowly slides in. 

You gasped when he slid himself to the hilt. You feel him in your tummy, that fat mushroom head is knocking on the door of your cervix and his heavy balls are resting on top of your clit. Sandor holds you down and takes his time so your sweet cunt is used to his size. He feels you clenching around him, he feels you under him moving your ass. 

“Not even going to wait for me.” He tells you when he feels you throwing your ass back softly. 

“It feels so good. I’m so full.” Sandor leans over you making you cry out by how deep he’s getting. He moves the pillow under your chin and he pushes your head to the mattress to the side. 

You gripped the sheets under you as he began to move. Each thrusts you’re crying out, moaning as he fucks you from you behind. You feel your toes curl up when he begins to growl when he grabs your hips and uses you like his personal toy. Moving you up and down on his cock, his hand stays on your face, covering you completely. 

He cages your head behind you as he ruts into you. You’re crying his name and Sandor is loving it because it’s his name you’re calling out, his name coming out those lips he loves so much. He whispers your name behind your head, he kisses the back of your head when he feels your tight cunt pulsing around him. 

“Yes. Yes.” He says as he slips his hand between your legs. “You’re soaked.” 

Sandor helps you get near, he’s about to cum. All day working, stomach filled with delicious stew and cock being milked by you. A perfect ending after a long day. 

“Pleasee.” You cry and Sandor looks down at you, you’re looking over your shoulder and it’s the only time Sandor shows his soft side with you. You only know this side of him. 

“I got you, my pretty girl. Cum for me. Let go.” He tells you before kissing your lips. His fingers rubbing your clit as he fucks you harder. Your mind is fuzzy, your filled to the brim and you can hear him moaning your name on top of you. You can hear skin slapping against one another, his heavy balls slapping your clit making you clench him even harder. He holds you in place when you start to cum on him, on his cock. He feels it, he even lets out a moan of his own. You start to whine, salivating on the sheets when Sandor comes undone. He holds your body, making sure he unloads his cum deep inside of you. 

Sandor watches you as you sleep on his chest, your fingers were in the middle of running through the massive amount of hair on his chest before you knock out completely. He holds you in his arms as he’s deep in thought. He chuckles to himself thinking what would Gregor do if he ever found out how pussy whipped Sandor had become for you. 

He was, he wouldn’t deny it, just count the dead bodies he buried a few miles away. They all had failed to find out what was Sandor’s secret. 

[enveine]

when doves cry - s. clegane (teaser)

“Sandor. Please, listen to me.”

You reach out to cradle his face in your hands but he’s quicker than you- he pulls away, leaving your outreached hands vacant in the air.

“No. No, I won’t listen to you.” His hand rests on the handle of your chamber doors, threatening to open and leave you at any moment. “You know what I’ve told you since the very beginning.” The flickering candlelight casts shadows across his scarred face, accentuating the turmoil within him. Suddenly the atmosphere was thick, the skin exposed by your thin nightgown grew colder.

"(Y/N)," he begins again, his voice gravelly and laden with regret. "We can't go on like this."

You look up from your empty palms now resting on your lap; your eyes meeting his with a mixture of confusion and heartbreak. "We’ve come this far, Sandor, why give up now?"

He takes a deep breath, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "You know we can't be together. It's not right."

Your brows furrow, and you stand abandoning your now cold bed. "Not right? Sandor, we've faced so much together. I thought we had something special."

Sandor turns away again, unable to bear the pain in your eyes. "Aye, we do. But it's not enough.” You wonder what’s going through his mind to make him think such things. “I'm a damned man, cursed and broken. You’re the purest woman I’ve ever met.” You let out a scoff at his admittance.

“I can't give you the life you deserve." He says in defeat.

You approach him, reaching out to touch his shoulder, but he pulls away. "You don't get to decide what's best for me, Sandor. I love you, scars and all. I've seen the good in you, the kindness you try to hide.” Tears that had threatened to spill finally break and slide down your cheeks. “We can make this work, please.”

He shakes his head, his hair falling into his face. "No, (Y/N), I've seen too much darkness, and it's always lurking around me. I can't let it consume you, too. You deserve happiness- I can't provide it."

Tears well in your eyes as you plead, "I don't care about the darkness, Sandor. I care about you."

His jaw tightens, and he took a step back. "That's not enough. You deserve a man who can give you more than just survival. I'm leaving. It's the only way."

You stand there, feeling more nude than you were mere moments ago, watching as his grip on the handle grew tighter. The weight of his decision hung heavy in the air. Before he left, he turned to look at you one last time, the pain etched on his scarred face mirroring the ache in your heart.

"Goodbye, my Lady," he whispers, and with that, he walks away, leaving you alone in the dimly lit room, the echoes of his departure lingering like a ghost.

[axelsagewrites]

What They're Like in Bed

Includes: Robb, Jon, Sandor, Podrick

Warnings: TW under cut. 18+

Word count: 854

Masterlist Here

Robb

Robb is defiantly a dom. He might be the biggest romantic and will do anything you ask outside of the bedroom but inside your private chambers he is in control and if you want him to do something to you, he will gladly listen to you beg for it. This man has a thing for control and loves when you call him your king and don’t think about not asking for permissions before you act.

He loves to use a mix of praise and degradation to make you squirm beneath him, calling you his pretty little whore. He likes to hold your face, grabbing your jaw or pulling up your chin, to force you to keep eye contact with him. He gets off on the humiliation but its worth it for the things he can do with his tongue. This man is like a starved wolf when he goes down on you.

Despite his dom nature he is still caring during the whole act, leaving kisses over your body and soothing any parts of you he worried he grabbed too hard. After the act is done, he is quick to scoop you into his arms and hold you, showring your head with kisses and your ears with compliments.

Jon (more headcannons here)

Jon is a switch, so you get to have it both ways. You get the desperate to please Jon who begs to even touch you and who moans shamelessly at your touch. However, you also get the Jon who likes to grab you by your hips and bend you over any table or against any wall that’s closest.

His favourite thing is to watch you cum around him or because of him. Its his favourite part of the whole thing, watching your face contort into a mix of pain and pleasure as he finally allows you to reach your peak. That can take a bit though because this man lives for edging you and teasing the shit out of you. As you do with him. Despite loving to be cared for and praised he is a massive brat who whines when he does not instantly get what he wants.

Jons quite private about your sex life and it took him a while to admit to all his kinks to you. You knew he had a mommy kink from the beginning, but he refused to admit it for so long.

Sandor

Sandor would never admit it but he fucking loves when his partner is a brat. He loves to put you in your place, pinning you down with ease and fucking you senseless. He loves to grab your hips and chest or to be gripping and pulling your hair. He just loves to be able to throw you around really. It was slightly inevitable because of his size but he loves the size difference between you.

Sex with him is always pretty rough. Your body is often littered with bruises that he refuses to admit are deliberate. He wants everyone to know you’re his whether that be by leaving a hickey or two on or neck or having you moan and scream his name.

At first, he is always wary during sex that his size may hurt you or that you could do better but eventually you are able to convince him you can handle it. he struggled to understand that you liked the feeling of his spankings or him choking you, but he was more than happy to comply. after sex though he is always very careful and makes sure you are okay. he will hold you or even bathe you depending on how rough he had been.

Podrick

Podrick is the definition of a people pleaser. He’s very shy and unsure of himself to start but his shy and blushy nature is what endeared you. This man subs and he subs hard. He doesn’t hesitate to do exactly what you tell him too and he won’t stop till he’s told.

He loves your body. Like obsessed with it. he’s constantly praising how good you look and begging to touch you. He will kiss every inch of your skin when you let him. However, his lips always fall back to one place in particular. He will spend hours with you riding his face if you let him. If you’re not riding your face, he’s begging for you to ride him instead.

After he builds his confidence up, he sometimes will get a bit cocky and try dom you instead. Sometimes you let him and when you do, he will pin you down and fuck you senseless into the pillow. However, he does still love to see your face when he does. Other times you quickly remind him of his place and his bratting doesn’t last too long since he is as desperate to receive praise as he is to give it. After yous are done he loves to take turns holding you and being held. however, he’s always up for another round and your post sex cuddles will soon turn into round two or cock warming while he waits for you to be ready.

A/N: Gonna do another part next of some of the GOT girls. Any specific ppl you want included (guys or gals since I'll probably do more of the guys)

[catsteeth]

The Caged Bird and The Leashed Dog

Sandor Clegane x reader

+:✿ Chapter - 2 ✿:+ White Mare

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Summary: You are the daughter of Jon Arryn, you and your father travel to King's Landing with the intention of arranging a marriage for you. You catch a glimpse of The Hound during your first night in Kings Landing and it creates a mutual fascination even if he won't admit it. 

CW: slow burn, MDNI, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, alcohol consumption, mention of parent(s) death, mention of arranged marriage, mention of prostitution, mention of NSFW themes

Word Count: 3037

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Ever since that day in the stable you filled your days with reading, sewing, mindless activities to keep yourself busy. Anything to relieve your mind of the horrors of Kings Landing and your shameful thoughts of the giant who roamed the halls. Loras and you grew distant since you rejected his hand in marriage, in turn you spent your time with the Starks. It was hard at first to be without your only friend but you were determined to get your cousin out of this city. But it wasn’t hard when Sansa clung to you like a scared beaten dog. You were treated no better of course. But at least you knew how to handle such cruelty with a stepmother like Lysa. 

“Don’t let them see you cry,” You’d repeat holding her face “Don’t let it show. Don’t you see how much pleasure he derives from seeing you like this?” 

 Arya would teach you small things she learned during her sword training, and in all honesty it was the most fun you’d had in years. You found yourself becoming more and more invested in those little girls' well being. 

It seemed as soon as Nedd arrived in Kings Landing his time ended. 

That day seemed like a dream. You were summoned by Cersei to her Chambers.

“Has Lord Stark mentioned anything to you about the nature of your fathers death?” Cersei questioned you calmly as she poured wine into her gablet.  

“My fathers?” You asked genuinely confused, she nodded as she sipped her wine “No, your grace.”  

“Good. It would be cruel of him to spark paranoia in the mind of a grieving daughter.” She said as she paced the room with her goblet of wine in hand. 

“Paranoia?” If you weren’t before you would be now. 

Cersei interrupted you once more “Lord Stark will be arrested for treason today. Somewhat unrelated but it would seem that Lord Stark’s head is filled with paranoid thoughts.” 

You didn’t understand why your uncle was on trial for such a crime. You were just a girl to these men, they didn’t speak of such things with you, that is yet. “Little bird, you are a clever and strong girl. I know you are loyal, loyal to the Starks, they are your family. But it is important to be loyal to your allies just the same. Sometimes family will only drag us down, allies however can make us stronger.” Cersei not so subtly threatened you.

You nodded politely, as soon as you could leave you tried to find your little cousins. 

You found Arya by the stables. You noticed the men lying dead on the ground with the Stark girls baggage. You saw Arya holding her bloodied sword after pulling it out of the stable boy.

She was horrified, you approached her slowly and quietly.

“Arya” You spoke gently but that didn’t stop Arya from jumping and pointing needle at you. “Arya, you need to run.” You said softly, almost a whisper. 

She ran to you dropping needle, she wrapped her arms around you. You held her close but kneeled to her height. 

You held her face with both your hands and your eyes bore into hers. “Your family is not safe here. You are not safe here.” Your grasp on her head did not waver. “You have to find a way out, get to the city, find a way out of the city, get to the north.” 

“I can’t!” She began to whine as she cried 

“You can!” you stroked her hair trying to keep her attention “You killed those men?” 

“Just the stable boy” she cried softly

“You killed a man. That's more than most women will ever kill.” You pulled her face closer trying to make sure your words reached her  “Listen to me those men will come and they will kill you. Don’t trust anyone, never tell them your name, never tell them your house. Lie, and get good at it. Kill if you need to.” You said as you grabbed needle and put it in her hand, “Now go.” You say as you let go of her and she runs off. 

‘Good’ you thought as you watched her run away. As you watched you didn’t notice the tears that had fallen from your eyes. 

Soon enough you were summoned by Cersei to witness Nedd’s verdict. 

She didn’t anticipate what came next, and neither did you, watching the death of your uncle. 

You held Sansa through it. As she screamed and cried, you tried your best to conceal her eyes. 

Your eyes however dodged from your uncle to The Hound behind him. You hoped he would do something to stop it, but he didn’t 

And so, it happened. 

The second hand of the king died.

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He thought of it every night. 

The moment he touched you, your skin, the moment his rough hands caressed your throat. 

He rolled the thought over in his mind millions of times. Gods’, it tortured him to no end. He tried to bury himself in his duty, bury himself in any woman who looked the slightest bit like you on the Streets of Silk, even taking himself in his hand at the thought of your scent…. More than once.

The thought of you sparked resentment and anger in his chest. He was Kingsguard now, he had no use for a woman, had no use for these emotions he felt. 

He hated you for it. Hated you for the way he wanted to rip Loras’s head off anytime he saw you and him in the garden. Hated you for the way he thought of your eyes everytime he closed his eyes. Hated you for the way his mind would wonder at you at any turn even on duty. Hated you for the way his chest tightened anytime he caught even a glimpse of you around Kings Landing.  And he hated you for the way your eyes caught his. Each time it was like a deadlock, those eyes, they were a bow and arrow and they shot through him each time. 

He grumbled under his breath anytime you were near. Purposefully look away from you as if you didn’t exist. You pretended not to care, but you fought hard just to catch a single glimpse of his face. The burns that draped across the right side of his face like the sheer lace curtains you had in your room in the Eyrie that distort your view from the window. 

Neither of you had much time to think about these emotions during the following days. You were spending your time mothering Sana as she grieved her fathers death. The Hound was now King Joffrey’s personal bodyguard now that Robert was gone. A terrible task truly. 

Even worse one when your stubborn and rebellious tongue didn’t obey your better judgment around the new king. The Hound tried to convince himself he hated it, but it turned him on even if he didn’t want to admit it. He tried to keep you safe, as safe as he could. Whenever you shot an annoyed glance, a cleverly concealed insult Joffrey's way, the Hound would simply divert Joffrey’s attention to something else. But if you ever got on Joffrey's bad side he couldn’t do much, far be it from him to question a king. On Joffrey’s name day you tested his patience. Joffrey had you and his lady Sansa accompany his side during his Name Day celebration. However you felt a slight sting of joy knowing you’d be so close to him once again. But more so your stomach turned in on itself. Joffrey no doubt invited you for the explicit challenge of trying to elicit some kind of reaction from you in some way. This became clear once he continuously asked for your input on the celebratory fighting. You’d had a small fascination with combat at first. It was like a dance but with blood and swords. but soon you’d grow bored of it. 

As The Hound had beaten a man to a whimpering submissive pulp the fight was over. Joffrey clapped and cheered as The Hound removed his dog helmet.  

Still you were stunned by him. You wanted to hate him for not helping your uncle. You tried to hate him but in all honesty you knew he couldn’t do anything to stop it. He’d no real power, no real way of stopping it.

“Well struck, Dog!” Joffrey shouted, and snapped you out of your trance.

Joffrey turned to you and Sansa “Did you like that?” he asked, taunting you and her. 

“It was well struck, your Grace.” Sansa replied, stoic. 

“I just said that.” Joffrey said, his eyes narrowed, his tone deepened. 

Ser Meryn looked over in Sansa’s direction. You knew what that meant, 

“I found it boring.” You chimed in, your eyes just as narrow as his. 

“You did?” He asked with the same threatening tone 

“Mm” you nodded 

“And what man did your house bring to fight?” 

“Brought no man.” You shook your head 

The Hound returned to his station by the Kings side. He pretended not to listen but he was, intensely. 

“You brought no man to my name day tournament?” He questioned further, you knew he would have taunted you further. To state it was for lack of good men or perhaps your dead father’s power died with him, that your house was to die with it.

“Not one.” Your head whipped towards Joffrey, gaze sharpening. “Not one man wished to celebrate your name day it would seem.”

“Ser Meryn.” Joffrey commanded. 

You noticed the Hound's head tilt in your direction as Ser Meryn walked towards you and slapped you across your face, cutting your lip with the armor of his glove. As Ser Meryn walked away you turned your head back towards Joffrey. 

“You are a pretty girl, a little more plump than I would like, but still a pretty girl.” Joffrey said “You should be more agreeable in tone, or you might find you won't be so pretty.” He smiled as he threatened you. 

“Hm?” He waited for your response as you wiped the blood from your lip. 

As you looked up, “Do you wish for me to cry, your Grace?” you asked almost mocking. 

Joffrey began to dryly chuckle at your remark, probably about to order another hit for you as Ser Dontos Hollard stumbled onto the tournament drunkenly. The Hound cleared his throat, getting Joffrey to shift his attention towards him and not you. With his attention shifted you were safe once more.

Your eyes stayed on the Hound however. You knew what he had done for you, however subtle it was, you noticed. 

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You found yourself spending more and more time near your mare. The moon shined on her just right for her coat to shine almost like metal, and your candle light shined on her just perfectly for her to glow like the sun. Lika, she was the only thing left you had from your home. You’d begin to yearn for the times you’d be furious with your fathers decisions and his useless attempts at comforting you. Because at least if he’d seen you were struck the way you had been, he’d have taken you home. He’d have helped you. But for now, you had Lika. 

As you sat in front of Lika’s stable, you read some book you’d stolen from Tyrion at some point. It was hardly interesting, infact you’d almost fallen asleep but Lika nuzzled her snout into your neck and sniffed you deeply, jolting you awake before you smiled and wrapped your arm around her head. You began to stroke the side of her head as you heard a low and deep voice beckon from the entrance of the stables. 

“Fuck are you doin’ girl.” 

Your head snapped towards him, relief befell you once you saw it was him, the Hound.

You looked back towards your book, “Reading, or I was anyway.” You replied softly

“Read in your room,” He said gruffly as his large hand opened the doors to the stable wider. He was so tall he ducked into the doorway as he walked inside. 

“I’ll decide where I read.” you said defiant as always. 

With a dry chuckle he began to walk towards you, “Words like that are the reason you got that cut on your lip.” 

“You don’t have to remind me of it.” You thought to yourself how this is exactly how you must sound to Sansa.

“Fuck-” He hissed under his breathe “You don’t want my help? Suit yourself.” He huffed “But don’t scream for me when you need it.” 

“I won’t want it.” You say softly “Anyways, you can’t help me.-” You began as he cut you off

“I helped that Tyrell you love.” He said with venom in his voice and a softness in his gaze. 

You furrowed your brows, stood up and faced him head on “And I have thanked you for it.” 

“I know you helped that Stark girl escape.” He said matter of fact

You huffed “What do you want from me?” you asked pained

“I want you to stay away from me.” 

“You seem to forget you came to me.” 

“You should run from me, you should tell me to go.”

“I don’t run.”

“That’s the fucking problem with you, girl. If you’d any sense you’d think of yourself. Change that tone of yours. Change those eyes, the way you look at people… like you want to gut them.” 

“I do want to.” 

“Stubborn” he chuckled darkly “Stubborn will get you beaten.” 

“Why did you come for me?” 

“I saw the light-“

“No. If it were anyone else you’d’ve gone on your way by now.” 

“Fuck does it matter?” 

“Sandor-”

“Don’t call me that.”  He hissed

“Tell me,” You say, raising a hand to his scarred cheek. He flinched and backed away quickly. His scowl deepened. He moved away from you, he turned to face outside the stables. “You wrapped your hand round my throat, and you won't let me touch your cheek?” 

“It’s different, you’re not ruined.” He said whilst he stared into the nothingness outside the stable doors. 

“Am I not?” You asked, your words felt sharp. 

“No, no you are not.” His words felt gentler. 

“I’ve no one, I’ve only this cage I sit in.” 

“You’ve got someone,” He scoffed over his shoulder at me, my eyes looking up at him widening against my will. “You’ve got that Tyrell,” You huffed, “That stark child that follows you like a bloody shadow.” He looked back into the night, “I’ve got no one,” 

“You do,” You say without noticing how bold it was until he turned to you, “Or you would, if you’d let them.” 

“My brother.” he mumbled, his head hung low as he walked closer to you. “Pressed my cheek to the fire.” He finished, unwilling to give anything else. “I know you’ve heard the story, Baelish, that cocksucking rat, no doubt told you.” 

“Course he did.” You didn’t lie, you never could to him. “But I asked you.”

He smirked slightly, his head still slightly turned away from you not wanting you to see. 

Your hand rose to caress his cheek, you did it slowly. He flinched his head away slightly and in turn you pulled your hand back slightly. As his head came back, moving closer towards you. You moved your hand to his cheek once more, slowly. He grabbed your wrist before it could make contact with his face.  

“Look at me,” He hissed “I’m a killer, the things I’ve done-” He thought back on those things “You don’t want this girl.” His grip on your wrist did not loosen, as if he was genuinely trying to protect you. “You’ll wed some lord, you’ll have his sons, and you’ll be far and gone from this shit city.” 

“I don’t want to wed a lord.” Your eyes now are not so hateful but sad. 

“World, doesn’t give a fuck what you want.” His hand reached out, slightly cupped the back of your head, hardly touching. He ran his hand down the length of your hair. Once he reached the end of it he held a lock of it in his hand to examine the color in the candle light. His deep, rich brown eyes reached yours once more. He could swear yours sparkled in any light. 

“I’ll walk you to your chamber.” He said gruffly, peeling his eyes away with yours. He grabbed the book in your hand and walked towards the doors of the stables. 

You let out a staged huff as you followed him. 

As he led you through the halls you realized that you were doing just that, following him. He knew where your chambers were and knew how to get there swiftly. 

The thought lit a fire in your chest. 

As he arrived at your door he stopped, as you opened it you turned to look at him. 

“You stole this from the imp.” He grumbled as he held up the book you did in fact steal. 

Your eyes went from the book to him, “Are you going to report me to the Queen.” You said, you smiled slightly with your eyes. Testing him and his loyalties. He growled under his breath and walked off.

The way you tested his patience stirred something in him. 

He’d definitely be taking himself in his hand that night again.

Is love the death of duty.  Or is duty the death of love?

[asa-do-your-thing]

Sleigh Ride

Merry early Christmas @gefionne <3

Sansa Stark x Sandor Clegane 18+ MINORS DNI WC: 3,3k Warnings / Tags: fluff, christmassy theme, canon times, massage, sex, breeding king, pregnancy, no beta reads no checks no nothing im sorry

The bells on the horses' harness collars jingled merrily as they kept their calm pace, puffs of hot steam coming out of their nostrils. The sleigh continued its peaceful journey through the snow-covered forests of the North. Sansa snuggled deeper into her furs, sighing contentedly. Despite the bitter cold, she felt warm and safe next to Sandor. He kept his eyes fixed ahead, guiding the horses along the narrow path. Sansa studied his face in profile, the ruined side she once feared now so dear to her. She smiled, remembering how reluctant he'd been to don the red Father Sevenmas hat she'd playfully plopped on his head before they set out.

"Bloody hells," he'd grumbled. But he wore it still - if Sansa asked, who was he to say no to his little bird?

Up ahead, the trees opened up into a wide clearing. "Look!" Sansa gasped. A snow castle rose in the center of the field, its turrets shimmering in the dimming light. As they approached, the gates swung open and a jubilant group of children streamed out, bundled in furs and warm fabrics. They were all from Castle Cerwyn, and as the Lady of the North, Sansa had made a promise to her people to bring joy to their lives after enduring war, harrying, and famine.

Sansa beamed at Sandor. "Your little admirers await."

He harrumphed, but she caught the twitch of his mouth that meant he was pleased. When the sleigh halted, the children swarmed forward, young voices rising excitedly.

"Father Sevenmas! Father Sevenmas!"

Sandor's eyes softened as he reached into his bag and began handing out gifts - simple things such as nuts, dried fruits and small mittens and scarves. Sansa's heart swelled watching him interact so gently with the babes. Despite his gruff exterior, he had much goodness in him. She took his hand and squeezed it fondly. This was a perfect Sevemmas, indeed. It wouldn't be long until he could be their child's father chrismas, she thought with a smile.

Sansa gazed affectionately at Sandor as he handed out gifts to the delighted children. She placed a hand on her still-flat belly, imagining him one day doing the same for their babe.

After the gifts were distributed, the children begged for a story. With a gruff chuckle, Sandor obliged, his raspy voice spinning a tale of adventure and heroism. The children listened, enraptured, as if Sevenmas had come early. Too soon, the short winter day faded into dusk. Sandor wrapped up his story and helped the sleepy children back inside the gates of their snow castle. As the gates closed behind the last child, he turned to Sansa with a rare, soft smile.

"Well, little bird? How did I fare at playing Father Sevenmas?"

Sansa wrapped her arms around his broad chest. "Wonderfully. I owe you something."

He stroked her hair, his touch infinitely gentle. "No, Sansa, I... I did it for you, you don't owe me anything."

Reluctantly, Sandor helped Sansa back into the sleigh and flicked the reins. The horses began the journey home, back to Winterfell. Sansa nestled against Sandor's side, thinking of the life growing within her.

Sansa gazed up at the night sky as they traveled, the stars twinkling like a thousand candles. She thought of all she and Sandor had endured to find their way here, to this place of quiet contentment. The path had not been easy, but she had no regrets.

"What are you thinking about, little bird?" Sandor asked in his raspy voice.

Sansa smiled. "The future. Our future." She took his hand and brought it to her lips.

Sandor's brow furrowed. "Sansa..."

"I have news," she blurted out. "Wonderful news. I'm with child."

Sandor froze, staring at her. The sleigh slid to a stop. "Truly?" he finally asked.

Sansa nodded, her eyes bright. Sandor let out a shuddering breath and pulled her into his arms.

"You've made me the happiest man in the seven kingdoms," he said gruffly. He tilted her chin up and kissed her deeply.

When they finally broke apart, Sansa laughed. "I believe you were already the happiest man before."

Sandor's eyes shone. "Aye. But now..." He placed a gentle hand on her belly. "Now I'm the luckiest bloody man in the world."

The bells on the horses' harness collars jingled merrily as they kept their calm pace, puffs of hot steam coming out of their nostrils. The sleigh continued its peaceful journey through the snow-covered forests of the North. Sansa snuggled deeper into her furs, sighing contentedly. Despite the bitter cold, she felt warm and safe next to Sandor.

As they glided past towering pines and old oaks draped with icicles that glistened in the setting sun, the soft crunch of snow beneath the skids filled the air. The scent of fresh evergreen needles and frosty breath hung in the frigid night, mingling with the spiced cider from a flask Sandor passed to her earlier; she took a sip, feeling it warm her insides.

"I love you so much, there's nothing I would've loved doing more today than this, seeing children having fun and... well, telling you about our little one. But it shouldn't have come as much of a surprise, seeing as we... did enjoy ourselves a lot as of late," she said contentenly, resting her small, gloved hand on his muscular thigh. Gods, she thought and blushed, how nice it had felt to sit on top of him, their bare bodies touching each other, his thick member buried deep within her heat.

Sansa watched her big, rough-looking protector – but he was so much more than that now – as he kept his eyes fixed ahead, guiding the horses along the narrow path as he blushed and cleared his throat. "Don't tease me, little bird, or soon you'll have a second, third and fourth babe on the way."

To this, Sansa blushed as much as he did and grinned happily.

Sandor looked over at Sansa and couldn't help but smile when she rested her hand on his thigh. He'd always loved the way she blushed when they talked about their intimate moments together. It made something inside him warm up and he felt protective of her, like he always had.

He squeezed her hand gently, his own rough calloused one contrasting with her soft gloved one. "You're an absolute flirt, you know that?" He chuckled, shaking his head. "But I wouldn't have it any other way."

As they continued down the path through the snow-covered forest, the air was filled with the sound of jingling bells and the crunch of shifting snow beneath the sleigh runners. The trees towered above them, their branches heavy with ice and snow that clung to every bough. The sun was setting fast now, casting long shadows across the landscape as they traveled deeper into the woods.

The sweet scent of pine needles filled the air as they rode along, occasionally a gust of chilled wind rustling them, sending a shiver down Sansa's spine. She looked up at the starlit sky and leaned against Sandor, enjoying the warmth of his arm around her shoulders. The crunching sound of snow under the horses' hooves was like music to her ears. The warmth of his hand holding hers was a welcome contrast to the icy air nipping at her cheeks.

Suddenly, Sansa noticed a small cabin in the distance, lit up by a single candlelight flickering through the window. It was nestled amidst towering evergreens and snowdrifts that reached almost as high as the roof. "Is that our destination?" she asked softly, feeling her stomach grumble with anticipation for some hot food after their long day.

Sandor nodded, squeezing her hand reassuringly. "Aye, Little Bird. We'll rest there for the night and get some hot food inside us." He guided the horses towards the cabin, their hooves thundering on the frozen ground beneath them. They stopped outside a small hut, its door creaking open as they approached.

A faint scent of smoke wafted out, filling their nostrils with warmth and comfort.

Sansa's eyes lit up as she gently took a step closer. "Sandor... I... That wasn't necessary!"

He, in turn, gave her a small smile and gently kissed her forehead. "Merry Sevenmas, my dear."

As Sansa entered the cozy cabin, she shivered slightly from the cold that seeped through her thick coat. The warmth of the fireplace instantly enveloped her shivering body, and she let out a sigh of relief as her cheeks became rosy from the heat. The scent of wood smoke and freshly baked bread filled her nostrils, making her mouth water. It was soothing to her senses after their long day traveling through the frosty night.

Sandor helped Sansa remove her gloves and coat, hanging them by the door, before leading her over to a small table where a steaming pot sat. There was fresh bread, drizzled with honey and some sort of sweet preserve she didn't recognize, and a bowl of steaming rabbit stew. The juices sizzled and popped as he dished out two big helpings onto plates for them both.

"This is lovely," Sansa breathed out, taking a mouthful of the warm food that melted on her tongue like velvet. She closed her eyes in contentment at the taste – rich broth with tender pieces of meat infused with aromatic spices and vegetables. Sandor watched as she savored every bite, his eyes glowing with pride.

"I'm glad you like it," he grunted between mouthfuls of his own meal. "The old caretaker left some provisions for us." He gestured to a basket near the fire, which looked like it had been brought over by one of Winterfell's servants rather than an old caretaker, yet Sansa didn't care.

As she sank into a worn wooden chair by the fireplace, her fingers lazily tracing the carvings on its backrest while Sandor took his own seat across from her, she let out a contented sigh. She watched as he tore off chunks of warm bread and dunked them into the hearty stew, his cheeks hollowing as he savored each bite. The crackling fire cast dancing shadows on his rough-hewn features, turning them almost angelic in their playful dance. The smell of smoke and wood mixing with the savory scent of the soup made her stomach grumble appreciatively.

"Sandor, this is delicious," she murmured between bites, her voice soft and reverent. "I can't believe how good it tastes after such a long day." Each spoonful filled her mouth with warmth and comfort, melting away any lingering chill from their journey. She leaned back in her chair, watching as he did the same, thinking that perhaps this was their best Sevenmas yet - warm food, a cozy cabin, each other's company.

He nodded in agreement, wiping his beard-stubbled chin with the back of his hand before reaching over to take her smaller one in his large palm. "Aye, Lady Sansa. It's been a long time since I've enjoyed a meal like this." His eyes met hers for a moment too long before looking back down at their empty bowls. "Go lie down on the bed, my sweet, I've something for you, something I think you'll love even more than the stew."

As Sandor spoke, Sansa's heart began to race with anticipation. She placed her spoon down gently and stood up from her chair, swaying a bit as she walked over to him. Her stomach churned with both excitement and fear, wondering what he could possibly have planned for her next. He escorted her to a small bed in the corner of the cabin, made up with soft furs that smelled faintly of woodsmoke and evergreen.

She felt his warmth behind her as he helped her undress, feeling his calloused hands move up and down her skin, sending shivers through every inch of her being. She could feel the heat radiating from his body as he undid the ties on her bodice, letting it fall to the floor. His fingers brushed against her bare skin slowly, teasingly, causing goosebumps to form in their wake.

Her breath hitched as he pulled off her stockings and pushed her down onto the bed, watching as he collected some sort of thick oil from a small chest near the fireplace. The crackling flames cast dancing shadows on his rugged features as he walked back over to the bedside. Sansa bit her bottom lip nervously, not sure what was about to happen but ready for whatever it was.

Sandor poured some of the hot oil into his hands and began to massage Sansa's shoulders, kneading out the tension she hadn't even realized was there. The scent of spices filled the air and made her moan softly.

As Sansa lay down on the soft furs, feeling the warmth seep into her bones, she felt Sandor begin to massage her tense shoulders. His big hands moved with a deftness that belied his rough exterior, kneading away the knots and kinks that had built up during their day-long journey. With each passing moment, her body relaxed more under his skilled touch. The scent of spiced oil filled the air, mingling with that of sweat and leather from his clothes.

Her heart raced as he trailed his hands down her arms, his fingers digging into her flesh in just the right way to relieve all the tension. He moved lower, kneading her stomach and hips before slowly working his way back up to her thighs. A soft gasp escaped her lips when she felt one of his rough hands glide between them, teasingly brushing against her folds beneath her shift. He paused for a moment, looking into her eyes as he saw the desire there.

She parted her legs slightly, inviting him in, feeling a hot pulse of arousal course through her veins as he rubbed small circles over her most sensitive spot. His touch was feather-light at first, but grew bolder by the moment. The fire crackled and popped in the background, echoing their deepening breaths as he expertly worked his magic on her nerves.

Sansa arched her back into his touch, moaning softly as he continued to pleasure her, his warm, oily hands making her feel things she's rarely ever felt before. Every stroke sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her veins, making her arch back into him and gasp for breath. His rough fingers teased and prodded until she couldn't help but whimper for more.

"Please," she whispered hoarsely, her voice catching in her throat. "I... I want you to bury yourself in me, oh..."

Sandor moved his hands to the buttons of her dress as he knelt between her spread thighs, eyes hungrily devouring her body. The sight of her supple flesh in the soft light of the fire sent a shiver down his spine. His rough fingers fumbled with the buttons, undoing them one by one until they fell open, revealing her creamy white skin to his greedy gaze.

She was breathtakingly beautiful in this moment, her nipples standing at attention under the thin fabric of her shift. He gently pushed it aside, exposing her perfect breasts to the warmth of the firelight's caress. He took one in his mouth, sucking on it hungrily as he ran his free hand down to cup her slick folds.

Her pussy was wet and ready for him; she was soaked with desire, begging to be taken. He rubbed her clit as he sucked harder on her nipple, causing shivers to race through her body. Sansa moaned loudly, her legs shaking as she felt the onslaught of pleasure coursing through her veins.

Sandor couldn't believe how much he enjoyed hearing those sounds escape from her perfect lips, how she trusted him enough to let him touch and taste every inch of her beautiful body. It drove him wild with love and lust.

Without further ado, he lifted himself up and positioned himself at her entrance, his cock already hard as a rock. Nodding needily, Sansa rubbed her soaked heat over the tip of his cock and gasped as he quickly inserted it, filling her up to the brim. Lifting her perfect, delicate legs over his shoulders, he groaned as she rolled back her eyes and squeezed herself around him.

As their hips met and he slowly began to move within her, Sansa's back arched off the bed, a primal cry escaping her throat. The roughness of his skin against hers only made the sensation more intense, and she felt herself grow wetter for him with each thrust. He was pumping into her steadily now, hitting her sweet spot with each powerful stroke.

She reached up to clutch at his shoulders, digging her nails into the toughened flesh as he took her harder and faster. His growls of pleasure echoed in the small space as he took what he wanted; it turned her on more than anything else. Lifting a leg to wrap around him tighter, Sansa dug her heel into his side, begging for more friction.

The cabin filled with their moans and grunts as they moved together, lost in each other's rhythm. The scent of sweat and sex mingled with that of the firewood, creating an intoxicating aroma that fueled their passion. Sandor's rough hands roamed over her supple body, feeling every curve and indent as he slammed into her from behind. He leaned down to capture one of her nipples between his teeth, sucking hard as she cried out in delight beneath him.

As Sandor slammed into her with a growl, Sansa's head thrashed back and forth, her long hair spreading out behind her like a waterfall of fire. Her eyes were slits, filled with desire and need, as she looked up into the his reddened face. She felt him hitting her deep and hard, drawing out exquisite moans from deep within her. His rough hands roamed over her body, leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake.

One hand found its way between them, rubbing her clit just right as the other cupped the weight of one of her plump breasts. She arched her back, pressing herself against his hand while his cock pounded into her from above. The bed groaned beneath them as they moved together in perfect unison. It was raw and primal, driving each other to new heights of pleasure they had never experienced before.

The oil they used earlier on their skin slickened their bodies as they moved together; it created an almost musical symphony that echoed throughout the tiny space.

Sandor's mouth found its way to her neck, his teeth scraping gently against her skin while he thrust harder and faster inside her. He growled low in his throat, "That's it, my sweet girl," he breathed against her skin. "Take it all from me."

His hips bucked fiercely against her and just as he felt her cunny fluttering and clenching around him, he felt his own release nearing. Sandor's muscular body tensed, and his lips curled into a sharp snarl as he felt his imminent climax approaching, a low growl rumbling from the back of his throat.

His hips jerked violently against Sansa's tight, wet cunny, his cock pulsing with the force of his desire for her. Her walls clenched around him, milking the last drops of pleasure from his rigid shaft, begging him to fill her completely. He bit down on her neck softly, just hard enough to leave a mark, claiming her as his own.

Sansa whimpered softly, arching her back as she felt him pulsing inside her, filling her up with his seed. She clenched around him one last time, milking what remained of his orgasm before he pulled out with a harsh groan.

Their sweat-slicked bodies slid against each other, their breaths still ragged and fast. He stayed buried deep inside her for a moment longer before pulling out and collapsing beside her on the small bed. She lay next to him, their chests heaving in unison as she let out a shaky sigh.

"You're mine," he murmured against her neck, planting a kiss there with a roughness that made her shiver in delight. "You always have been. Merry Sevenmas, my little bird."

[first-edition]

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 here