#my sansan

[vladiator]

Birdwatching for Dummies

A Sansan fanfic that you can also read on AO3

Rating: Explicit Fandoms: Game of Thrones (TV), A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms Relationships: Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark Characters: Sandor Clegane, Sansa Stark, Jorah Mormont, Robb and Arya briefly Additional Tags: Sandor is a creepy creep but does feel guilty, Sandor is oblivious, Pining, Oral Sex, This is horny then fluffy then funny then fluffy then sexy, Lady is a cat, Stranger is a dog, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Modern AU, age gap, Older Man/Younger Woman Length: 16,486 words

Sandor's not a bad guy, he's just got a bad habit. And that bad habit is watching a certain red-haired young woman through her window.

(Previously titled 'The Birdhouse' but I changed the name)

She thought she was safe.

Sandor chuckled as he watched the red-haired girl dance around in her living room in her pajamas. Of course she thought she was safe, she was in a second-story apartment in an expensive gated complex. Her balcony faced the woods and the whole building was fairly isolated. Sandor almost would have bet that that's what made the girl want to move here; he could practically hear the office manager, a man named Jorah Mormont, tell the girl something like, "You'll have a scenic view of the trees, and you'll be in the last building on the road, away from any and all prying eyes." 

Mormont wouldn't have bet that said prying eyes would find a perfect little spot on a small hill. He also wouldn't have bet that the prying eyes would belong to the complex's resident handyman. 

Sandor didn't like to think of himself as a pervert. He normally wasn't. He'd found this spot on the hill a few years earlier but hadn't used it, because there was nobody in that apartment worth spying on. The day she moved in, she grabbed his attention immediately. Mormont had asked him to help her move some furniture up the stairs, but he didn't give the girl's name nor did Sandor ask for it. They headed to her apartment, where both Mormont and Sandor were surprised to see that the young woman had four brothers and a sister helping her move in that day, and their services were unnecessary. He saw the girl going up the stairs, and he was entranced.

"She mentioned she had a big family," Mormont had said when they'd returned to the office on that first day. "I just didn't think that big."

Sandor hadn't seen the girl's siblings after that. They probably lived too far away to be regular visitors. That made him wonder what the girl was doing in their city. She was pale, clearly not used to the Casterly Rock sun. That was what had really enchanted Sandor the first time he saw her: her porcelain skin, smooth and unblemished, a stark contrast to his own. And her hair – red as the embers that had burned him all those years ago. She was stunning, unbelievably so, and Sandor found himself frequenting this spot in the woods once or twice a week in the few months since she'd moved in. 

Even if somebody else found out about the secret spot, it would be of no use to them. The little hill wasn't big enough for an average-sized person to see into the girl's apartment. But Sandor wasn't average in any way, shape, or form. He was big enough to see through the two separate sets of French doors on the balcony. The balcony was wide, and one set led to her living room, while the other led to her bedroom.

The curtains in the bedroom were always closed, but that was fine by Sandor. He got enough jerk-off material from the view of the living room. She was never naked in there, but she often wore thin pajamas, and that was all he needed. 

After the first week of watching her, he'd bought binoculars, which he did feel a bit gross about. He managed to square it away in his mind by thinking, I could be much worse. I could be Gregor. Then this girl would be in real danger. I just want to look.

Sandor’s older brother Gregor was doing time in another city for a string of rapes. Sandor had actually been the one to dob him in to the police, because despite how sloppy the crime scenes had been, the cops had zero leads. That was why Sandor had moved to Casterly Rock, because he knew that once Gregor got out, he'd hunt his little brother down. 

As he watched the girl twirl about in her apartment, Sandor imagined that she was running from something, too. Maybe she was a runaway bride, so desperate to avoid her ex-fiancé that she moved away from home. Or maybe she'd done something to piss her parents off and they kicked her out. In reality, her backstory was probably quite boring, but this was one of his tamer imaginings, so he let himself daydream and wonder. 

The girl stopped dancing for a second to bend over and pick up her cat. Sandor relished the short view of her backside through her night shorts. She then held the fluffy white cat in her arms and twirled around the room again, smiling and probably laughing. The scene was adorable, a picture of perfect domesticity that Sandor would never be able to experience. He'd be no good at it anyway. 

After a few minutes of dancing with her cat, the girl put the feline on the couch and then disappeared further into the apartment. The sun was setting, so Sandor supposed she would be getting ready for bed soon. The girl seemed to have no particular schedule. She'd wake in the mornings and dance around for a bit, then head off to work, which was clearly only a part-time gig because she'd be back home in the early afternoon. She had a keyboard in the apartment and sometimes she'd play it in the evenings, and Sandor was sure she played beautifully even though he couldn't hear it. Everything about her was beautiful.

The girl re-emerged holding what Sandor thought at first was a pamphlet, only to quickly realize when the girl opened her mouth that it was sheet music. She was singing, probably a haunting and mournful song judging by the stern look on her face, but all Sandor could think about was her lips and how they'd feel around his cock. He didn't know what her voice sounded like but he could almost hear her gagging as she took him in her mouth, as he grabbed her by the back of her head and shoved himself deeper into her throat–

Fuuuuuuuck, thought Sandor. He was growing hard in his work jeans. Normally he could keep himself under control while he watched her, but sometimes his fantasies would run away from him. But he'd always manage to save it until he got home. He didn't want to be the creeper jerking off in the woods, even though he knew damn well his behavior was creepy enough. But she was just too perfect, too hard to ignore.

Sandor decided to cut his little visit short and head home. He lived in a ground floor apartment near the main building. The complex had its own pool, and as Sandor walked home he thought about how if the girl ever went swimming, he'd be able to see her from his balcony.

He shoved the door closed and locked it, before pulling off his clothes frantically. His dog Stranger, an old Doberman, was sleeping on the couch, and didn't even stir as Sandor shuffled to his bedroom, his pants now around his ankles. As soon as his bedroom door was shut behind him, he began to stroke his cock while thinking of that beautiful redhead. He imagined her on her knees for him, her mouth open wide, her blue eyes looking into his grey ones. At least he thought her eyes were blue, it was hard to tell from the woods. But that didn't matter right now. All he could think of was her lips, how they'd look around his cock, how they'd feel on his own lips. He would come in her throat and then pull her by her hair up to look him in the eyes, then slam his mouth into hers. 

Sandor came hard, his seed spilling all over the carpeted floor. Fucking hell, he thought. Good thing I'm never fucking leaving this hellhole. 

He stripped off the remainder of his clothes before cleaning up his mess as best he could. He could only afford to live in this fairly nice apartment complex because he worked there, so he didn't take anything for granted. His apartment was mostly bare except for the necessary furniture items, which were all mismatched because he'd found them all at separate yard sales and thrift stores. Once everything was clean to his satisfaction, he crawled into bed and fell asleep, hoping to dream of that beautiful girl. 

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Sandor was woken up the next morning by the sound of his phone ringing. His ring tone was the same basic one that every phone came pre-installed with, because he couldn't be bothered to change it, and it also served as a fairly decent alarm for him. He shot up in bed and grabbed his phone like it was a bomb about to explode. 

"Hey, Clegane," came Mormont's voice on the other end. "I got a job for you."

"Yeah?" Sandor could hear the grogginess in his own voice. He'd slept longer than he'd planned to. 

"Miss Stark says she's got a leak in her kitchen, you think you could check it out today?"

"Miss Stark?" Sandor didn't know most of the names of the tenants, so he immediately pictured that one old lady in Building 4. 

"The young lady in apartment 620. I'm sure you've seen her around. " 

The realization hit Sandor like a slap in the face. Miss Stark was the girl, his girl. 

"Yeah, I can check her out. Check it out. What time should I head that way?"

"If my memory serves me correctly, she works from 9 to 3, so any time between then would be good."

"Got it." 

Sandor hung up the phone and collapsed in his bed. That redhead, that gorgeous gorgeous redhead, needed him. And he was ready to answer the call. Of course, it was only half past eight now, so he had more time to lie in bed and think of his girl and her porcelain skin, think about how her slender fingers would feel on him. 

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Sandor decided that 10 was a good time to show up at the girl's apartment. Of course, it wasn't like anyone was keeping track of him, but he still felt that going there right at nine was a bit much. Besides, what if she was running late that day, and he ran into her in the stairwell? She'd walk right past him, completely unaware that he'd watched her the night before, just like he'd done many, many times, before going home to fuck his fist to the thought of her. She'd have no idea that the man she was passing was going into her apartment, the same apartment he'd been staring into with binoculars.

One of the fun things about being the complex's handyman was that he essentially had the keys to every single apartment in every single building. If he wanted to he could walk into any young woman's apartment like he owned the place and ransack the fridge and sniff the underwear and do whatever he wanted to do. But he didn't do that, because he did have some semblance of a moral code, even if it was hard to find. Besides, the only woman worth the trouble was his little redheaded Miss Stark, and he actually wanted to avoid her like the plague. He was certain that if they ever made eye contact, he'd explode. 

Sandor bounded up the stairs, toolbox in hand. Apartment 620 wasn't hard to find, because a lemon-shaped welcome mat sat in front of the door. God, is everything about this woman fucking adorable? he thought as he jammed the master key into the lock.

The sound of the washing machine running was the first thing he noticed. There was an odd rattling sound, and for a moment he wondered if he should look at it while he was there. But, as Mormont had mentioned many times before, in-apartment washing machines were the tenants' responsibility. They bought it, they broke it, they fix it.

The apartment was just as cutesy as the welcome mat, with pastels and floral designs abound. Sandor knew based on it being in Building 6 that it was a similar layout to his, but larger and with an extra bedroom. He wondered who or what that extra bedroom was for. Maybe it was just for storage. Maybe it was so if one of her five million siblings came to visit, they wouldn't have to sleep on the couch. Or maybe it was just in case. Just in case she got knocked up after a one-night stand, or something. Sandor chuckled quietly at the thought of his little redhead getting pregnant after just one night with him. But in his few months of watching her, he hadn't seen her bring anyone home nor stay out late. He guessed all of her friends were back home, wherever that was.

Despite how often Sandor tried to tell himself he wasn't a nasty creepy bad man, he still had to fight the urge to snoop around the girl's bedroom and rifle through her unmentionables. He was able to power through those urges but he did allow himself to stand there for a moment and take it all in. He imagined what it would be like to burst through that front door and yell the classic line, "Honey, I'm home!" In his fantasy, little Miss Stark would then waltz into the main area entirely nude and ready for him. Sandor felt himself growing a little hard at the thought of that. 

Then, the bedroom door opened. And she walked out, wearing nothing but a tight tank top and baby blue underwear. Her mouth fell open when she saw him, and she screamed at the top of her lungs. 

"No, no, don't scream. I'm here for your leaky sink," exclaimed Sandor, waving his tool box in the air, as if the presence of tools would make anything better. He didn't blame her for being startled and scared; he was well over a foot taller than her and muscular, and Mormont had once told him that he had "resting monster face," whatever that was supposed to mean. 

Miss Stark looked close to hyperventilation, but managed to calm herself down and stutter out, "I– I'm so sorry, I didn't think you would be here so soon–"

"Mormont told me you'd be at work."

The girl ran her fingers through her thick red hair and said, "I'm supposed to be. As soon as I got there I was told all my students had canceled on me, so I came home and started doing laundry. I kind of forgot about my sink. Let me go see what other clean clothes I have to wear."

She dashed back into her bedroom. Sandor had wanted to tell her not to worry about it, and that she could stay in her underwear and the world's thinnest tank top all damn day. But that would be unprofessional, so he held his tongue. However, he was definitely saving that lovely sight to the ol' wank bank database. 

Sandor awkwardly went over to the kitchen and set his toolbox down. A few seconds later, the girl came back out from her room, now dressed in a pastel pink onesie that was clearly designed to look like a fox. "I'm sorry for my appearance," the girl said. "All of my clothes are in the wash." 

"It's fine. I've seen worse," grumbled Sandor, but he immediately regretted his words, wondering if she'd be offended. He had seen worse though, in the form of an old man who lived in a pair of ratty boxer shorts no matter the weather. He'd lived in Building 2 and was constantly clogging the toilet, so Sandor was out there pretty much every other week. The old man had died a few years back, and Sandor definitely didn't miss him. 

Sansa walked around the kitchen island and stood near Sandor as he inspected the sink. "There's a slow leak in one of the pipes," she explained, gesturing to the cabinet below the sink. "It was dripping onto this pan I was storing under there all night and I kept hearing it and it kept waking me up."

"You must be a light sleeper." Sandor knelt down and opened the cabinet door, and immediately saw the leak. 

"Definitely. My mom says that when I was a baby I would sleep like I was dead, but now that I'm an adult I wake up at the slightest of noises."

Sandor didn't respond to the girl, focusing entirely on the pipes in the dark cabinet. Miss Stark clearly took his lack of response as a cue to shut up, because she stopped chirping at him. But Sandor didn't want her to shut up. In fact, he could have listened to her all day, if there wasn't a job at hand. Her voice was as perky as her tits, and she talked with her hands as well, moving and flapping them about. This was the closest he had ever been to her, and he was more entranced than ever.

Luckily for the girl and unluckily for Sandor, the sink was an easy fix. Sandor opened his tool box and set to work. After a few minutes of twisting and pulling and other plumber-type actions, he stood up and said, "You're all set."

Then, the most amazing thing happened. The girl looked up at him and smiled. She smiled a genuine grin, not the fake shit he'd seen so many times before. It was a smile that reached her sparkling blue eyes, a smile of joy and gratitude. Nobody had ever smiled at Sandor like that, and he was sure that nobody ever would again. She was so ridiculously beautiful that it pained him. 

"Thank you so much, Mister–?"

"Clegane. But just call me Sandor."

"Thank you, Sandor." The way she said his name made him want to melt all over her. "I should have some cash around here somewhere to give to you..."

"No cash. It's part of my job," replied Sandor, even though he could definitely think of a few things he'd want from the girl in exchange for his services. 

"Still, I am so grateful. And next time I'll make sure to tell Mr. Mormont if I'm going to be home early. I can't believe all my students canceled on me."

"Students?"

"Oh, I teach piano at this music place." She waved her hand in the air as if that explained anything any further. "Maybe I'll give you a lesson some time?"

Sandor couldn't think of an appropriate response, so he just forced an awkward smile at the girl. "Is there anything else you need fixing? Besides the washing machine. I can't touch that." 

"Oh, is there something wrong with my washing machine?"

"It's not supposed to rattle like that." 

"Oh!" said the girl. "I guess I'll have to call someone about that. You know, you look familiar." 

"You've probably seen me around. I live here, too."

"You're in Building 1, aren't you? I've seen you helping your mother up the stairs."

It took Sandor a second to realize what she meant. "That's not my mother, that old lady just lives above me and I help her sometimes." Mrs. Tyrell was half blind but still insisted on living on the second floor. Occasionally she'd knock on his door and ask for him to help carry her groceries up the stairs, and because he never had anything else to do, he'd always say yes. 

"Oh. Well, that's really sweet of you. But that's all for today, I guess."

It almost seemed like the girl didn't want Sandor to leave. Perhaps she was lonely, which was a shock to Sandor. He couldn't imagine this girl being short on people who wanted to spend time with her. He was also surprised that she'd noticed him around the complex, but then again he was unnaturally large. The thought that she had seen him and he didn't know about it was kind of funny to him, considering how often he watched her when she didn't know. 

Sandor shuffled out of Miss Stark's apartment and began his walk home, the image of the girl in her underwear still fresh in his mind. The fox onesie was pretty appealing too, though: he could envision himself pulling down the zipper in the front to reveal her pale breasts, then he'd take her nipple in his mouth and she'd moan for him and–

As soon as the front door was shut Sandor pulled out his cock and began to jerk off frantically. He imagined sweet little Miss Stark bouncing on his lap and whimpering his name. He came with a moan so loud he was sure anybody walking past his building would have heard it. 

While cleaning up this day's mess, Sandor decided not to go to his little spot in the woods that night. This shit can't be healthy, he thought as he scrubbed the carpet. Maybe I need to take a break.

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Sandor's break didn't end up lasting long. Two days later he was in the woods again, and to his delight, Miss Stark was wearing her fox onesie, but this time the zipper was unzipped a third of the way, showing off a bit of cleavage. She was singing again, and Sandor desperately wished she would open the balcony door just a crack so that he could hear her. She had the body and face of an angel, so surely she must have the voice of one too. 

It seemed that little Miss Stark was trying to learn a song, because she kept staring at the sheet music and singing, before stopping and playing the song on her keyboard. Her face changed from serious to perplexed to annoyed to excited and back to serious again. After about an hour of this, she tossed the sheet music onto her couch. Then she grabbed a hair clip from her coffee table and used it to pin her hair up. She did a little stretch and a little dance, and she disappeared further into the apartment. 

Sandor was almost ready to give up for the night when the curtains that blocked his view into the bedroom opened. She pushed them to the side and gazed through the glass of the door at the trees above Sandor. Although it was definitely not meant in this way, Sandor took it as a sign to stay right where he was. 

The girl then went away again, leaving Sandor waiting for her excitedly. This was the first time he'd ever seen inside her bedroom, and it was as perfectly pink as the rest of her apartment. Through his binoculars, he could see a painting of a white flower hanging on the wall above her bed. Her bedroom was messier than his, but still wasn't particularly bad. A few articles of clothing were scattered around on the floor, as well as a striped throw blanket. She had a large floor mirror that leaned against the wall, and a punch of photographs were stuck to it with magnets. Sandor couldn't see what was in the pictures, but he guessed it was her family. 

Around twenty minutes later, the girl came back into the room. She now wore a red robe, and had clearly just gotten out of the bathtub. Her hair was still pinned up and looked dry, but her skin now looked dewy and extra soft. Sandor briefly wondered if she was the kind of girl who touched herself in the bath. 

Then, she untied the belt around her waist and shimmied the robe off of her shoulders. Sandor couldn't believe his eyes. That's my girl, he thought as the bathrobe hit the floor. She was standing right in front of the glass door, completely unaware that someone was staring at her from the woods below. And she was perfect. Her tits were everything he'd ever hoped for, and he could see himself burying his face in them. He desperately wished he could reach out and feel her curves. But the best and most surprising part was the bush of hair between her legs. It was red like the hair on her head, but a little bit darker. He thought about what it would be like to stick his tongue in her sweet cunt and have her writhe around in pleasure for him. 

Sandor couldn't control himself any longer. He quickly looked around to make sure nobody could see him, then with one hand he freed his cock from his pants, while his other hand held the binoculars. It was dark now, and he watched as Miss Stark stretched and yawned and reached up to pull the hair clip from her hair and let her red curls cascade down. She then walked over to her bed and flopped over on it. She was probably warm after her bath and wanted to cool down. She looked like a princess out of a fairy tale, waiting for her prince to come and wake her with true love's kiss. Sandor stoked himself and thought about climbing on top of her and kissing her neck, running his fingers through her hair, shoving his tongue in her mouth and his cock in her cunt. As he came, he thought about how it would feel to come in her, to come with her.

Now that he was done, he felt gross, and not just because he had his pecker out in the woods. He'd always had some shame about what he'd been doing, but now it was hitting him harder than ever. He wasn't a bad guy, so what was he doing, spying through a window and jerking off to a girl half his age? What the fuck is wrong with me? he thought. 

Sandor put his dick away and began his walk home. This beautiful girl, little Miss Stark, was taking over his mind.

And he wanted to let her. 

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A few days passed by and Sandor managed to avoid the girl. Not that that was particularly difficult; all he had to do was stay home. Trying not to think of her was the truly hard part. Mormont called him at one point to tell him his services were needed, and the second Sandor's phone rang he hoped that the redhead's sink was broken again. And when Mrs. Tyrell needed help with her groceries again, Sandor hoped that the girl would see him and run up to him and fall into his arms.

Sandor had never been obsessed with anything before. He'd never cared about a TV show or book series the way he cared about a girl whose first name he didn't know. But he also thought that care was probably the wrong word – he was infatuated with her, in the least healthy way possible. He knew that a decent break from her would do him good, but it was painful. 

He knew little about this girl but he would have let her ruin him a thousand times over. The way she said his name echoed in his mind. Fuck, I'm pathetic, he thought to himself as he walked to building 5 to fix a broken light in the stairwell. 

Sandor reached his destination and set up his ladder. Because of his height, he only had to climb halfway up to reach the light bulb, and he was able to change the bulb quickly. As he came back down, he heard what sounded like an angel singing. He looked around, and there she was, his precious Miss Stark. 

She had probably just gotten home from work. She had probably had to park closer to Building 5 than Building 6, because the parking lot was oddly small for such an expensive complex. She had probably not realized that there was someone near to hear her as she sang on her walk to her apartment. 

But her voice was everything Sandor could have hoped for and more. He didn't know much about music, but thought what she was singing was most likely opera, but no matter what it was absolutely amazing. She was absolutely amazing. 

Once the girl's voice faded into the distance and was replaced by the chirping of nearby birds, Sandor picked up the ladder and headed back to his own apartment. He still felt guilty and gross for jerking off in the woods the other day, but it had felt extremely fucking good. Miss Stark was like a siren luring a sailor to his death, and Sandor was all too happy to follow her to the bottom of the ocean.

Once back at his apartment, he changed from his work clothes into his regular jeans and shirt and readied himself for a trek through the woods. Binoculars in hand, he set off from his apartment while thinking, I could be a lot worse. I could be taking pictures of her through her window. I just want to look and listen.

Sandor found himself practically jogging to his spot in the woods, hoping the girl would be singing with her balcony door open so that he could hear her. He knew there was a slim chance of that, considering the prissy little cat he'd seen her dancing with the week before, but he didn't deny himself the pleasure of hoping. 

Sure enough, Miss Stark was still singing, but her balcony door was closed. Nevertheless, she was in nothing but a T-shirt and comfy-looking pajama pants, and that was good enough for Sandor. In all his fantasies of her, he never pictured her in fancy lingerie or anything like that. He'd rather her in comfortable clothes, or, ideally, entirely naked. But there was something about seeing her in her pajamas that placed an ache in his heart. Somehow it was more intimate than seeing her in lingerie, or even nude. If she was in her pajamas with him, even her pink fox onesie, that would mean she was comfortable with him, comfortable with sharing her most intimate moments with him. Of course, having raunchy fantasy sex was pretty damn intimate, but having this woman enjoy his company was truly the dream. But he knew better than to expect a dream like that to come true. And he knew how pathetic he was, the way he'd gotten so riled up over her smiling at him after he fixed her sink. But some fantasies were never meant to become realities. 

Then the girl stopped singing. She seemed to think for a moment, then she wandered over to the balcony door and opened it, stepping outside. Sandor froze in panic, wondering if she'd be able to see him from there. She can't see me, he told himself, I'm too well hidden.

The girl paced around on her balcony for a minute, then leaned back against the railing, her hair cascading down the side like an auburn waterfall. Then she stepped away from the railing, only to move back toward it a second later. She looked over the side, then, her back towards the woods, she put her hands on the rail and hoisted herself up into a sitting position on the railing. She now balanced there, facing her apartment, her legs dangling just above the balcony floor.

Sandor had no idea what the girl was doing. This didn't look like a suicide attempt, but he couldn't think of many other reasons for someone to sit on a railing on a balcony by themselves. Maybe it's one of those dumb fucking challenges young fuckers do these days, he thought. Kids are fucking strange. Then he remembered why he was spying on this "kid" and decided to stop thinking about why she was sitting there, and just enjoy the view of her ass. 

Then, the girl lost her balance. Sandor watched in slow motion as she fell backwards, tumbling down to the grass below. 

Panic overcame him. From where he was stationed, he couldn't see her. But if he ran to check on her, she'd be wondering what he was doing in the woods looking at her apartment. 

Fuck it, he thought, as he dropped his binoculars and ran towards her. 

The girl was laying on her back on the ground, but as Sansor approached her he couldn't see any blood. She was groaning in pain as she tried to sit herself up. Sandor came up behind her, startling her slightly as he said in as gentle a voice as possible, "Hey, hey, try not to move."

"Sandor," breathed the girl. The way she'd said his name like he was her knight in shining armor would have made him a little bit hard if he wasn't panicking that she was seriously injured. 

"What hurts? What did you land on?"

"I flipped over," she said through jagged breaths. "I landed on my feet. I hurt my ankle." 

Sandor looked down at the girl's feet and saw that one foot was contorted at an unnatural angle. "It's broken. No, no– don't look at it." He put a hand on the girl's shoulder to stop her from sitting up. "I'm going to get you to a doctor."

The girl bit her lip. "Okay."

Sandor reached for his pocket, only to find that he'd left his phone in his apartment. He cursed under his breath before saying, "I'm gonna have you pick you up, okay?" 

After a frantic nod from the girl, Sandor reached underneath her and lifted her. He carried her bridal style to the front of the building then down the sidewalk towards his truck. Once she was in the passenger side, he got in the truck and they sped off.

The girl was crying in agony and Sandor was panicked. All he could think about was trying to remember the directions to the nearest emergency room. Luckily one wasn't too far away, and once they made it there he picked her up again and carried her inside. 

—————————————————

The next few hours were a blur. Sandor had been made to sit in the waiting room. He knew he didn't exactly have a calming presence, considering his size and his scars, but he hated that the girl didn't have a friendly face with her as the doctors examined and treated her. 

Eventually, a nurse wheeled Miss Stark out into the lobby in a wheelchair, a large black medical boot on her left foot. She smiled when she saw Sandor. 

"You okay?" he asked. 

"I should be, eventually," she replied. "I broke my ankle but it'll hopefully heal in a few weeks."

The nurse added, "She's very lucky that you were nearby when she fell. You saved her from injuring herself any further."

Sandor shrugged and said, "All in a day's work."

"You guys are good to go," said the nurse. "You'll get the bill in the mail in a week or so." The nurse then walked away, leaving the girl in Sandor's care.

The girl's blue eyes were on Sandor once again, and he could feel his unscarred cheek turn slightly red. "Thank you so, so much," she said softly. "I'll make it up to you."

"You don't have anything to make up to me, girl. I wasn't going to just leave you there."

"I'm just so glad you were walking past when I fell. I hope I didn't take you away from any of your responsibilities." 

Walking past? thought Sandor. God, this girl is innocent. "No, I wasn't doing anything important. I was just... birdwatching."

 As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. But to his surprise, Miss Stark only beamed. "Birdwatching? I love birds. There's a cardinal that comes and sits on my balcony sometimes."

"Is that what you were doing out there, trying to attract a cardinal?" 

The girl laughed. "No, I was practicing for my audition next month."

"Were you auditioning for the part of a baby bird falling out of its nest?"

"The local opera group is doing Romeo and Juliet. Juliet obviously has to be on a balcony, so I was trying to get myself used to singing up in the air." The girl sighed. "But it looks like I won't be getting the part now."

"There's always next time." 

"Yeah. I mean, maybe I can still audition. I can see the headlines now: Sansa Stark, world's first singer to play Juliet on crutches!"

Before Sandor could stop himself, he muttered, "Sansa." So that was the name of the girl he'd been jerking off to for months. Fucking shit, that's the name of the girl he'd been stalking for months. 

"Yep, that's me." Then the realization hit her. "Oh my goodness, you saved my life and you didn't even know my name! I'm such an asshole!"

"Don't worry about it," said Sandor, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Let's get you home."

—————————————————

On the short drive back to the apartment complex, Sansa talked Sandor's ear off, probably to distract herself from the pain she was no doubt feeling. The docs had given her some meds, but they definitely didn't make everything better. But on this drive Sandor learned that Sansa was from Winterfell, a town a few hours north of Casterly Rock. She'd moved in search of an opera career and was only teaching piano lessons in order to pay the bills, but she was no starving artist; her parents were fairly wealthy and very supportive of her dreams of operatic stardom. 

Luckily, a parking space had freed up near Building 6 and Sandor pulled in. Once he'd parked his truck and turned it off, he looked at Sansa and stated, "I'm gonna have you carry you up the stairs."

Sansa nodded. "Okay. I trust you."

Those three final words hit Sandor's heart in a way he didn't expect. She trusted him. This beautiful girl he'd been fawning over trusted him, because why wouldn't she?

Sandor went around to the passenger side and opened the door, before gently scooping Sansa up in his arms. The stairs were rather steep but he strode up them with the same confidence as always. Sansa's arms were around his neck as he unlocked her door with his master key, and she seemed to hesitate in letting him go when he set her down on her couch. 

"Thank you," she said meekly. "You've been so kind to me."

"I'm here to help," he replied with a shrug. 

"I'm so embarrassed, falling off my balcony while in my pajamas. I feel so pathetic."

"You shouldn't. Worse things have happened." He sat down on the other end of the couch. 

She anxiously twirled a strand of her red hair around her finger. "At this complex?" she asked, her voice full of sadness and hope. 

"Yeah. There was a guy who died here from autoerotic asphyxiation a few years back." 

Sansas eyes widened. "Nasty."

"You're telling me. I had to call that shit in."

"Well, at least you can't be embarrassed if you're dead."

"Maybe so." Sandor then found that he'd quickly run out of things to talk about. He'd never thought he'd be having a casual conversation with the object of his obsession, so he had no idea what to say to her. You're so beautiful it's ruining my life. I think about you all the time. You should probably get a restraining order against me. "I can go run to the nearest store and pick up some crutches and whatever else you might need." 

 Sansa's eyes welled with tears, hopefully of appreciation. "You've been so good to me already, you don't have to do anything else."

"It's not like you can go get shit," he replied, his words coming out harsher than expected. "Give me a list of things you want and I'll pick them up. I can give you my number and Mormont's personal number in case you need anything."

"My phone is on the counter – pass it to me and I'll text you a list. And I'll pay you back, I promise."

Sandor fetched the girl's phone and told her his number, then he was on his way. He was surprised that a girl that beautiful could be so unused to kindness. But then again, she saw him as a stranger, whereas he saw her as someone he owed penance to. 

As soon as he got in his truck, he received a text from an unknown number saying, "Hi! It's Sansa!" followed by a ridiculous amount of flower and heart emojis. A list of things she wanted from the store came shortly after.

—————————————————

When Sandor opened Sansa's door, grocery bags in hand, he saw her quickly wipe her eyes and force a smile. She'd clearly been crying, and he felt incredibly awkward standing there. 

After a moment, Sansa said, "Hi, sorry." 

"Are you okay?" 

"I will be," Sansa whispered through her sniffles. "I'm just... in a lot of pain."

"I've bought you extra pain meds." 

"Thank you. It's not just physical pain though, I'm so embarrassed and upset and disappointed that there's no way I'll get the part of Juliet and I feel like a burden on you and I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "You're not a burden, on me or anybody else. You're just in a shit position, but you'll get out of it soon enough."

"I hope so." 

Sandor went over to the kitchen to put away the ice cream he'd bought her. She didn't ask for any, but she looked like a girl who appreciated a good pint of mint chocolate chip. Then he went back downstairs to get her new crutches from his truck.

"Is there a way I can send you money?" Sansa asked when he came back to the apartment. 

"No." He leaned the crutches against the wall near the couch. 

"I probably have cash somewhere."

"Don't worry about it."

"You just bought groceries and medicine and crutches for me."

"It's fine."

"No, Sandor, it's not," she said. Sandor was surprised to hear her attempt at a stern voice, and his heartbeat quickened when she said his name. "I owe you." 

Sandor knelt down on one knee next to Sansa, who had propped herself up on her elbows on the cushy couch. "All I want is for you to rest and heal. Do you think you can manage that?" 

His words came out of his mouth a lot more intense than he'd wanted them to, causing Sansa to squeak out a tiny little, "Yep."

"Now, is there anything I can get for you?" 

"I have some flavored water in the fridge—"

Before Sansa could finish her request, Sandor was already at her refrigerator asking her, "Which flavor?"

"Lemon, please! It's the yellow one."

"I know what color lemons are, girl." When Sandor turned around, he saw her smile bashfully. He went back to the living room and handed her her drink. 

"Thank you," said Sansa. "I'll call my mom soon and tell her what's happened. I bet she'll want to come down here and help out."

"Might be a good idea. Then you won't have to put up with my ugly mug."

"Oh no, you're staying right here!" Sansa playfully demanded. "If you want to, of course. If you don't have anything better to do." 

"I definitely don't have anything better to do."

"Good! I mean, not good, but I'd really love it if you stayed with me."

Sandor didn't know what to think. He'd spent all his life being either feared or pitied. He had no idea why such a beautiful girl who had a family who loved her would want his company. Maybe she feels bonded to me because I helped her, or some shit, thought Sandor as he looked at the girl. Or maybe she's just in a fuckton of pain and she doesn't want to be alone. Sansa was staring up at her with big blue eyes, eyes bluer than any ocean, and he desperately wanted to jump in them and drown. 

He didn't realize he hadn't repsonded until Sansa asked, her voice just above a whisper, "You'll stay with me, right? At least for this evening?"

"Of course." 

"We can order some pizza."

"Sounds good to me." 

—————————————————

Pizza was ordered and delivered, and Sandor sat at the other end of the couch as they ate off of ceramic plates that had floral designs. He finally was able to take a moment and glance around her apartment as Sansa talked his ear off once again. After a while, her white fluffy cat came out of its hiding spot and came over and sat in between them. "Oh!" said Sansa. "Lady, meet Sandor. Sandor, meet Lady."

Lady gave Sandor a quick sniff before curling up into a ball and falling asleep. 

"She's a prissy little princess," Sansa continued. "Just like me."

"I wouldn't say you're prissy."

"Oh, but I am. For example, I've been talking nonstop and you haven't been able to say anything."

"I don't talk much anyway."

"You should talk more, you have a nice voice," she said, before immediately blushing. "I mean, you know, it's unique."

"I've been told my voice is scary." 

"It is! In a good way. Like a villain in a movie." 

Sandor couldn't help but laugh. "How is that in a good way?"

"Ugh, I need to stop talking, I keep embarrassing myself. But tell me about you." 

"You've only had a broken ankle for a few hours, you can't already be stir crazy enough to ask for my life story." 

Sansa frowned at him. 

"Fine, fine, but there isn't much to tell. My upbringing definitely wasn't as picture-perfect as yours. Abusive father, dead mother, abusive brother." 

"And yet, you turned out to be so sweet."

"You can call me a lot of things, but sweet isn't one of them." It made Sandor's stomach turn when he thought about what he'd been doing when he saw her fall from her balcony like an angel out of heaven. If she found out, she'd hate him, and rightly so. 

"I think you're sweet. You've helped me and Mrs. Tyrell. I bet you even get things from the top shelf for people at the grocery store."

"No, nobody ever asks me to." This was true, because Sandor looked far too intimidating for anyone to come up to. 

"But I bet you would if they asked."

"Probably not." When Sansa's smile fell, Sandor added, "But I probably would for you."

"So, you're almost sweet," joked Sansa. 

"Almost."

"I know I come across as naive, but I like to think of myself as optimistic. I want to see the good in everyone and everything."

Sandor smirked. "You weren't feeling so optimistic earlier."

"But now the meds have kicked in and I'm slightly better." She then yawned, and the image of Sandor shoving his cock in her open mouth flashed across his mind. "And slightly tired."

It was growing dark outside, and Sansa had been through quite an ordeal. Sandor stood up and said, "I'll let you get to sleep, then. Anything else you need from me before I go?"

"A new ankle."

"I can only do so much." 

 Sansa waved her hand at him. "You've done more than enough. Thank you so much, for everything."

"You have my number if you need anything. And I can check on you tomorrow morning, if you want me to."

"Yes, please."

"All right. See you then."

"Goodnight, Sandor," called Sansa as Sandor left. 

Sandor had never been in love before, but he did know that it was normally a two-way street. He didn't want to say to himself that he loved Sansa, but damn, he felt pretty close to it. She was perfect in every way: she was beautiful, bubbly, talented and ambitious. His heart skipped a beat every time those blue eyes were on him, and he was already addicted to her attention. 

As he got in his truck and drove the incredibly short distance between her building and his, he thought about how she looked at him like she wasn't afraid of him. She looked in his eyes instead of at his scars, and she didn't seem to notice how unworthy he felt to be in her presence. He was enamored with her, but he knew that she would never feel the same way. How could she? He was probably twice her age and practically twice her size, plus he was a grouchy old asshole, whereas she was the human embodiment of sunshine. And, of course, there was the fact of his half-scarred face, and the fact that even if he wasn't scarred he'd still be fuck-ugly. But even though Sansa acted like she didn't notice Sandor's scars, Sandor definitely did, and he knew he didn't belong next to someone like her. 

—————————————————

The next morning, Sandor knocked on Sansa's door and was immediately greeted by a sing-songy "Come innnnnn!"

Sandor opened the door and saw that Sansa was sitting on the couch, propped up by pillows, her cellphone to her ear. 

"He's here now, I'll talk to you later," Sansa said into the phone. "Love you too. Bye."

"Your mom?" asked Sandor as he placed a box of pastries on the coffee table. 

"My dad, actually," replied Sansa. "He's really glad someone was there to help me right after I fell, but he wishes it wasn't a big and brawny man."

Sandor smirked. "He's protective, isn't he?"

"Massively. I don't mind it, though. Except for when he tries to insist that I should have a big mean dog to protect me, when he knows I'm a cat person." 

Before he could stop himself, Sandor said, "You've got a big mean dog now. Me."

Sansa laughed. "I'll make sure to tell him that. But you shouldn't call yourself a dog." 

"It's an old nickname. Well, Hound is the nickname, and that's close enough." He sat down on the couch. 

"Why did people call you Hound? Because of your big puppy dog eyes?" 

"Puppy dog eyes?" laughed Sandor. 

"Yeah, has no one told you that you have puppy dog eyes?"

"Absolutely fucking not. And if someone had, they wouldn't have lived to tell the tale."

"Fine, is it because you've got a good sense of smell?" guessed Sansa, her eyes full of whimsy.

"I do have a fairly decent sense of smell, but no."

"Do you howl?"

"Do I howl?"

"Yeah."

"I don't even know how to answer that question."

"Well, why are you called Hound?"

Sandor shrugged. "Fuck if I know. When I first moved to this city fifteen years back, I worked as a bodyguard for a rich family. One of them started calling me the Hound, and it stuck."

"So it's because you're loyal." 

"Maybe so."

"Either way, you're probably a better guard dog than an actual dog. You're better at conversation, anyway."

Sandor chuckled softly. "So, are your parents coming to visit?" 

"No," replied Sansa, a forlorn look on her face. "My dad's busy, he can't leave Winterfell. My two older brothers are doing military stuff and the other three are still under 18, so they're not going anywhere."

"What about your mom?" 

"When my dad's busy, she's busy. Perks of being a politician's wife and all that."

"Politician?" 

"Yeah. He's running for mayor again." 

I've been playing a dangerous game, stalking a politician's daughter, thought Sandor. "You never told me your dad was mayor of Winterfell."

"That's one of the good things about moving to a new city, nobody knows you."

"Doesn't Winterfell have an opera thing? I bet they'd let you be Juliet, broken ankle and all."

"No, we don't have anything like that back home, but that's also the point. I want to be Sansa Stark, I want to be my own person. I don't want to be Mayor Stark’s daughter and be perfect all the time."

Sandor wanted to say, You seem pretty damn perfect to me, but he bit his tongue. "You want a pastry? I stopped by the bakery on my way here." He picked up the box and handed it to her. 

"On your way here? You live a five-minute walk from me, and the closest bakery is a ten-minute drive." 

"I might have taken a detour."

 Sansa laughed. "A very appreciated detour." She reached into the box and pulled out a lemon tart. "Oh, Sandor, you're the best! These are my favorites!"

Sandor had had no idea which were her favorites and had selected entirely randomly, but he accepted the compliment. "I try."

Sansa beamed and took a large bite out of the lemon tart. Her excitement for the food led to there being crumbs all over her chin, but she didn't seem to notice. 

"You're a mess, girl," said Sandor. Without thinking, he grabbed a napkin from inside the box and gently wiped at her chin with it. Only after she was cleaned up did he realize how intimate and wonderful that short moment had been, and he wished he had appreciated it more. 

But, because the gods seemingly never smiled on Sandor, Sansa's phone rang. 

Sansa took one look at her phone screen and her face lit up. She answered it with an excited, "Hey!"

The voice on the other end of the line was definitely male, but Sandor couldn't make out what he was saying. Sansa was grinning from ear to ear as she said into the phone, "I thought he said you couldn't come!"

One of her brothers? wondered Sandor. 

After a quick chat, Sansa hung up the phone. "He'll be on his way later today!"

"Who will?"

"My brother Robb. And he's bringing my sister Arya with him. You know, it's funny how much I miss her when we always fought like cats and dogs. Literally, sometimes. She's got a big husky who always liked to annoy my little Lady."

"How long will they be staying?"

"A week. I don't know where I'm going to put them, though. My extra bedroom is just for storage. I guess Arya will have to sleep in the recliner." 

"Well, you can always call me if they get on your nerves. I'm sure I can scare them off."

Sansa laughed. "They don't scare easily, especially not Arya. When we were kids she used to tell me ghost stories and I'd be awake all night."

"How old is Arya?"

"17. Two years younger than me."

That math was way too easy for Sandor to do. He was sitting in the apartment of a 19-year-old. He'd been obsessing over a 19-year-old. Sansa surely thought that he was doing a good deed by helping her, but he was only feeling worse and worse the more he learned about her. 

 Sansa continued, "As kids we would fight about every little thing. She made fun of me for being a 'girly girl' and I made fun of her for being a tomboy. If you look at us you'd never guess we're related."

"I wish I had that luxury. My brother and I practically have the same ugly face," said Sandor. "Except mine is scarred, obviously." 

"Don't call yourself ugly. You're not ugly."

"Sitting next to you, I am." 

Sansa's cheeks turned bright red. "You're too sweet." 

Sandor couldn't tell if she felt happy or embarrassed, so he quickly changed the subject. "Is there anything you need done around the apartment before your family gets here?"

"I have a basket full of dirty laundry, but I can't expect you to do that."

"I can if you want me to. How hard can it be, just dump it into the washing machine and press a few buttons?"

"When you put it like that, it does sound easy."

"Exactly. So where is the basket?"

"In my bedroom." 

Sandor felt like he was going to lose his mind. Her bedroom. He'd only seen that room once but he'd fantasized about it numerous times, long before he even knew what it looked like. He'd daydreamed about her giving him a sexy look and taking his hand and leading him to that very bedroom, where he would commence to ripping her clothes off and fucking her like there was no tomorrow. 

"Sandor? You okay?" asked Sansa. "I can probably talk Arya into doing my laundry if you don't want to."

Sandor hadn't realized he'd fallen silent. "I've got it." He stood up and headed to her bedroom. 

He opened the door slowly, as if something was going to jump out at him. The room was bathed in pastel pinks and pale yellows, floral designs and a strong lemon motif. A framed picture of a white rabbit hung on the wall. It was painfully cutesy, and very much Sansa. 

The pink basket sat in the corner of the room, next to her nightstand. A charging cord led from the wall into the drawer of said nightstand, and Sandor immediately imagined that there was a vibrator or something of that ilk hiding in there. A young woman like her has to have needs, he thought. I just wish she'd do it with the curtains open.

Sandor shook the inappropriate thoughts out of his head. Until Sansa's siblings got there, he was the one taking care of her, and he needed to control himself. One wrong thought, one wrong brush of hands as they both reached for pastries at the same time, and he'd be hard and she'd probably see it and panic. He didn't want her to think of him as a dirty old man, even though that's how he felt, and he especially didn't want her thinking he was only helping her out in return for something.

Sandor picked up the basket and took it to the small laundry room that was just off the kitchen. "No problems with your sink now?" he called to Sansa. 

"Nope, no leaks or anything," she called back. He could hear the smile in her voice. 

"Good. I pride myself on excellent service," he joked. He tossed the clothes into the washing machine, and fought off urges to sniff her underwear. Laundry detergent in, door closed, buttons pressed, thought Sandor as he went through the motions, trying to distract himself from his thoughts. 

As soon as the machine started, so did that awful rattling noise he'd heard back when he'd fixed Sansa's sink. He shut the laundry room door but it was still annoying. He tried to ignore it, and went back to the living room. But just as he got comfortable on the couch, his phone rang. 

"Fuck," he muttered as he took the phone out of his pocket. It was Mormont, of course, because nobody ever called Sandor except Mormont. Only three people had his phone number, and that was Mormont, one of the rich fuckers Sandor had been a bodyguard for, and Sansa. Sandor answered the phone with a quick, "Yeah?"

"Where are you? Your car's not in its usual spot."

"What are you, my owner?"

"There's been a power outage in Building 3. Meet me there in 10?" 

"Yeah." Sandor hung up the phone and looked at Sansa. 

"What's with the sad puppy dog eyes?" she asked. 

"I gotta go. Duty calls."

"The bathroom's that way," Sansa joked, gesturing to the door across from her bedroom door.

"There's a power outage in Building 3. I've gotta get home and get my shit together and go fix it." 

"Oh." Sansa seemed genuinely disappointed that he'd have to leave. "Well, I'll see you later, I guess." 

Sandor stood up. "If you need anything, call me." 

"I will." 

With that, Sandor was jogging back to his truck. He drove to his own apartment and changed into his work clothes, then grabbed his toolbox and headed to Building 3. Mormont was waiting out front. 

"You get a house call or something?" asked Mormont. 

"What?"

"Why were you driving from Building 6?"

"Why do you care?"

"Any maintenance requests have to be sent in through me. You know, for financial shit." 

"I was just doing somebody a favor. So which apartment is the problem?"

"All of them."

"Fucking hell."

"Yeah. So let's get to work." 

—————————————————

It took a few hours but power was eventually restored to Building 3, much to the enjoyment of its residents. Once he was done, Sandor headed in the direction of Sansa's apartments once more, his toolbox in his hand. He knocked on the door and when he heard Sansa welcome him in, he went inside.

To his immediate horror, Sansa wasn't on the couch. He looked over to the kitchen and there she was, balancing between her good foot and a crutch, trying to put leftover pizza into the microwave. Sandor put his tools on the ground and rushed over to her. "Hey, you need to be resting," he said. 

"I'm fine, I've got my crutches."

"You've got one crutch, so you're not fine. I'll finish the pizza." 

"Sandor–"

Before Sansa could protest any further, Sandor grabbed her by her waist snd picked her up, tossing her over his shoulder as gently as he could. He could have sworn he heard a giggle escape the young woman as he carried her over to the couch. He set her down where she had been that morning, and she said, "Well, at least heat yourself up some pizza too while you're at it." 

"Plan on it." Sandor went back over to the kitchen and set to work. 

"I see you're still on work mode," Sansa called over to him. Sandor looked over his shoulder and saw her pointing to his toolbox.

"Yeah, I came straight here. Didn't want to leave you here by yourself for too long, in case you got any bright ideas." 

"I made it over to the kitchen just fine, thank you very little," teased Sansa. "But it's fine. I do love a man in uniform." 

"My nasty work overalls hardly count as a uniform, but I'll take that as a compliment." 

"As you should!" 

"You're a funny little bird, aren't you?" 

"Little bird? Why, because I sing?"

"Yeah."

Sansa laughed. "The Bird and the Hound. We should start a band."

The microwave beeped and Sandor removed the pizza before bringing it over to Sansa. As he handed her the plate, he noticed a distinct lack of annoying rattling noise. "Is the laundry done?" he asked.

"Yeah, but I haven't moved it to the dryer yet."

"Good. You don't need to do that, I've got it." 

Before Sansa could protest, Sandor was in the laundry room again, pulling the wet clothes out and putting them into the dryer. Then he went back to the living room and picked up his toolbox.

"What are you doing?" asked Sansa. 

"Fixing your washing machine."

"I thought you weren't allowed to fix my washing machine?"

"What Mormont doesn't know won't hurt him. Just promise you won't sue me if I set it on fire or something."

"If my apartment burns down I think I have the right to sue," joked Sansa. 

"We will cross that bridge when we get to it. Enjoy your pizza." 

Sandor began to inspect the washing machine and immediately found the problem. Unfortunately, the issue would require a quick trip to the local improvement store, as Sandor didn't keep spare washing machine parts on him. He went into the living room and explained the situation to Sansa, who yet again looked disappointed to see him go. She must be lonely here, with no relatives to visit her, Sandor thought. She'll be all right once her brother and sister get here. 

"You have to let me pay you for the part and the service," insisted Sansa. 

"I don't have to do anything." 

"You're the nicest person ever, please let me pay you back." 

I'm only nice because I want to fuck you, thought Sandor. "How about you cook me dinner when you're feeling better? That would be a good enough payment."

Sansa smiled. "Sounds like a plan."

With that, Sandor left. He didn't expect his trip to be long, but every minute away from Sansa pained him. He zoomed to the store, through the store, and out of the store, making it back to the apartments in less than an hour. 

But when he knocked on the front door, he heard a man's voice say, "Who is that?"

He then heard Sansa reply, "It's just Sandor. Open the door for him, please."

The front door opened and Sandor was face to face with a young man who was obviously Sansa's brother. They looked incredibly similar, from the wavy red hair to the ridiculously blue eyes. Sandor remembered Sansa saying her older brothers were doing "military stuff," and aside from the fact that he had too much hair on his head to be active military, he looked the part. He was tall, though not nearly as tall as Sandor, and he looked like he worked out religiously. But his muscles looked like they were more for show than anything, and the grumpy look on his face told Sandor he was just as protective as their dad was. 

"I'm just here to fix the washing machine," said Sandor, "then I'll be out of your hair." 

Sansas brother allowed Sandor to come inside, but his eyes scanned over him, as if to determine if Sandor was a threat. It's a bit fucking late for that, he thought. She already trusts me, despite the fact that I'm probably the biggest threat she's ever known. 

"Sandor!" chirped Sansa in her usual sing-song voice. "That's my brother Robb, and this is my sister Arya." Sansa gestured to the short tomboyish girl sitting on the other end of the couch, who seemed to have a permanent scowl. Sansa had been right; she and her sister looked nothing alike. 

Sandor offered up an awkward wave and shuffled into the laundry room. Once the door was closed behind him, he could hear Arya ask, "That's the guy who saved you?"

Sansa scolded in a hushed tone, "Arya, be nice." 

"I'm surprised he saved you and brought you home. He looks like the kind of guy who'd kidnap you."

"Arya! He can probably hear you. And just because he's a little scary-looking doesn't mean that he's a bad guy. He's actually really sweet."

"How did he even see you fall? Where was he?" asked Arya while laughing. "Was he hiding in the woods spying on you?" 

"He was birdwatching."

Sandor could hear Arya cackle. "Him? Birdwatching? Oh, he was definitely spying on you."

Sansa probably shot Arya an icy glare, because the younger Stark stopped jabbering for a moment, and Sandor kept on working. He managed to replace the part rather quickly, but he almost didn't want to leave the laundry room and face the Stark siblings. 

He finally gathered up his courage and walked out, only to find that the siblings were lost in conversation. Despite his large stature and heavy footsteps, he was able to sneak to the door mostly unnoticed. Only when he closed the front door behind him did he hear Sansa's voice ask, "Sandor?"

He knew it wasn't right to just leave her without saying goodbye, but she didn't need him anymore. She had her family now, and, despite how genuine she seemed, she was probably only nice to him out of pity. 

Sandor was self-aware enough to know that nobody actually wanted to spend time with him. He did have a few beers with Mormont on occasion, but that was only because Mormont needed someone to whine to. Sandor knew that he only had himself to blame; he was horrendously grouchy and kept everyone at an arm's length. And most of the time his solitude didn't bother him at all, because he had always been a loner and all he really needed was his dog. But now that he'd had a small taste of domesticity with his girl, his Sansa, he found himself wanting more, even though he knew he wasn't made for that. 

He walked back to his apartment and shut the door behind him. His dog Stranger perked up at his presence.

—————————————————

Two weeks came and went, and Sansa's brother's car stayed parked in front of Building 6, meaning the two Stark siblings had extended their stay by a week. That was definitely a good thing, because Sansa had clearly missed them and she needed all the help she could get. 

Sandor walked toward Building 5, where a broken air conditioning unit waited for him. Summers in Casterly Rock could be brutal, and he knew he had to get there fast before the tenants melted. That would be a nasty clean-up job, he thought as he bounded up the stairs. We'd have to tear the whole building down if humans melted into the carpet, or else we'd never get rid of the smell.

It took a few hours to fix the AC unit, but Sandor did get it done, and he packed up his tools and left. On his way down the stairs, he saw a glimpse of a silver car speeding by. When he walked out to the sidewalk, he cast a glance down towards Building 6, where he saw that Sansa’s brother's car was now gone. 

He's probably going to the store or something, thought Sandor as he walked home. I would hope they're not heading back up to Winterfell and leaving their sister by herself. 

Sandor knew logically that Sansa could take care of herself. As delicate she looked, she was clearly resilient, considering how she was handling everything. She'd told him on the drive back to her apartment that the doctor didn't want her to go to work for a while, and she was upset and stressed by that, but she remained confident. Little did she know that Sandor was prepared to pay her rent if she couldn't. 

Sansa's brother's car didn't return that afternoon, nor the next day. Sandor pretended to himself that he wasn't watching but he was, and any time he had any reason to go around the complex he'd look for the silver car. It wasn't there, which annoyed him. He knew that Whatshisface and Whatsherface had lives to get back to, but he was concerned for Sansa. Didn't they understand how precious she was? How could they just leave her?

 Sandor tried his best to not think about Sansa for the next few days, but failed miserably. He hadn't been back to his spot in the woods since she'd fallen, which he guessed was probably good for his health, but he was missing her. She occupied his mind at all times. But, in fear that she secretly hated him and was glad to be rid of him, he didn't text or call her even though he could've. He knew she wouldn't answer anyway.

—————————————————

He woke up on a Thursday morning to his phone ringing. He answered it with a "Yeah?" 

"Miss Stark in 620 is having sink troubles again. She said she'd like for you to come check it out."

"All right." 

"She also said that she's definitely going to be gone today at her usual time, and that you don't need to worry. Not sure what that's supposed to mean."

"I'll head to her apartment at 10," said Sandor as he hung up the phone. He rolled back over in his bed, not even wondering where a girl with a broken foot would be running off to.

—————————————————

At 10, Sandor opened the door to Sansa's apartment, and to his surprise, she was sitting up on the couch, as if she was waiting for him.

"Sandor!" exclaimed Sansa. "How nice of you to join me."

One of Sandor's eyebrows shot up in confusion. "I was told your sink was leaking again."

"Well, I wanted to give you something but I didn't know which apartment is yours, and I didn't think you'd check your texts, so I thought I'd call you out here."

"Give me something?" asked Sandor. "I told you I don't want to be paid for helping you."

"Good thing I'm not paying you, then." Sansa used her crutches to stand up, and she leaned over to grab a white envelope off her coffee table. "Here you go."

Sandor hesitantly took the envelope and opened it. Inside was a card that said in gold writing, "You're invited!" 

"What's this?" he asked. 

"Open and see!"

Sandor did as he was told and saw, in Sansa's perfect handwriting, the words, "My place. Spaghetti. Friday at 5."

"This doesn't explain anything."

"You told me you wanted dinner as payment. I'm feeling better and my ankles not so bad anymore, so I've invited you for dinner!"

 Sandor shook his head. "Sansa, you don't owe me anything."

"Yes, I do. And by requesting dinner that day you pretty much already said that you'd come."

"Fine, I'll come." 

"Perfect!" Sansa beamed at him. "It's a date!!"

I fucking wish it was, thought Sandor. "But I don't have anything nice to wear." 

"So? I've been living in my pajamas for two weeks. Wear whatever."

"Okay."

"I mean, if you really don't want to come, you don't have to. I just want to show my appreciation to you."

"No, I want to come. I'll be there."

"Good. That makes me really happy." 

Sandor was anxious about this little dinner date, but he would have done anything to have Sansa smile at him. Besides, he thought, a little spaghetti never killed anyone. As far as I know. "So, your sink isn't leaking again?"

"Nope."

"Well, in that case, I guess I'll be seeing you tomorrow." Sandor didn't really want to leave Sansa, but he desperately needed to wallow in self-pity and that was an action best done alone. 

"Yep!"

Sandor nodded and left, unsure whether to be excited or anxious about their little 'date.'

—————————————————

Sandor showed up at Sansa's apartment half an hour early, because he couldn't bear pacing around his apartment in his nicest jeans for any longer. His nicest jeans were just really the pair with the least amount of holes and stains that wouldn't come off. He thought about bringing flowers, but decided against it, because he didn't want to make things awkward. 

He knocked on the door, and could hear a loud gasp inside the apartment, followed by Sansa's sing-songy "Come innnnn!"

Sandor used his master key to unlock the door and stepped inside. Sansa was hopping around the kitchen on one crutch, humming as she cooked. She was wearing a red and pink dress, covered by a white apron that had strawberries embroidered on it. 

"I thought you might need some help in here," he said. 

"I've got this," said Sansa. "You can't help me cook or else I'll owe you another dinner." 

"That's fine by me. You shouldn't be cooking on one foot anyway," joked Sandor as he stepped into the kitchen. 

"And yet, I'm doing it flawlessly!" Just then, a timer went off and Sansa yelped, "My garlic toast!" 

"Let me," insisted Sandor. He grabbed an oven mitt off the counter, but it didn't fit on his large hand so he just held it as he opened the oven door. Using the mitt as a barrier between his hand and the pan, he pulled the pain out of the oven. 

"There's a potholder on the table you can put that on," said Sansa, gesturing to the dining area. Sandor followed her instructions and put the pan on the lemon-shaped potholder. "Now go sit on the couch and wait. I'm almost done here." 

Sandor sighed playfully and went to sit on the couch. It was a funny sight, seeing the beautiful Sansa frantically hopping around the kitchen, but Sandor couldn't even truly enjoy the humor of it because he was so worried she'd fall over.

Finally, dinner was ready, and Sansa allowed Sandor to help set the table. Once they were seated and food was served, Sansa looked to him and asked, "So, how've you been?"

"Bored. Haven't had any girls fall off balconies lately."

"Darn, I really thought I was going to set a new trend," joked Sansa. 

"Should have fallen off the front side of the building, then." 

"Yeah." Sansa's smile then suddenly fell, and she twirled her spaghetti around her fork. "So, what kind of birds do you normally see out here?" 

Fuck. This was clearly a test. Her sister's words must have been bothering her. Sandor didn't know shit about birds, but he knew he couldn't afford to fuck this answer up, so he tried to think of the names of different birds he'd seen around the complex before. "Uh, depends on the season. But I like looking for crows. And there's always seagulls around, and cardinals."

Sansa beamed. He'd passed the test. "I love cardinals. I've seen a few outside my window. I love their spiky little heads." 

Sandor tried to not breathe his sigh of relief too loud. "This spaghetti... it's really good."

"Thank you! I love to cook and bake but it's not as fun if you don't have someone to share the food with," said Sansa. "You're kind of my only friend around here. The only other person I talk to outside of work is the girl who owns that candle shop nearby."

"The blonde?"

"Yeah, her name is Daenerys. You know her?"

Sandor laughed. "I've never met her. But Mormont's got it bad for her." This was true, despite Sansa's incredulous look. Mormont had once gone to Dragonstone Candle Company to buy a gift for his teenage cousin, who would sometimes spend weekends with him in the summer, and he immediately fell head-over-heels for the silvery blonde woman who ran the shop. 

"She hasn't mentioned him, but we don't talk that much," said Sansa. "But some ladies have a thing for older men."

"I don't think he has a chance in hell, but he's probably the best customer she's got. He's always buying new candles from her."

"I did think the office smelled good the last time I was there."

Sandor nodded. "But I find it hard to believe someone as young, fun, and adorable as you don't have any friends around here."

Sansa blushed. "You think I'm adorable?"

Sandor hadn't realized he'd said that part out loud. "I just mean that it's strange you'd have to resort to hanging out with a big ugly fucker like me."

"No no no," scolded Sansa as she waved her winger at him. "You are not going to call yourself ugly in my apartment. Or else."

"Or else what?" teased Sandor. 

"Or else I'll..." Sansa clearly hadn't thought this through. "I'll make you stand in front of the mirror and repeat positive affirmations until you believe them."

"Then we'll be at it all night." 

"Fine by me. It's not like I've got anywhere to be for a while." 

Sandor chuckled. "You're a stubborn girl, you know that?" 

"Thank you, I try."

"When do you think you can go back to work?"

"In a few more weeks, I think. I mean, I can still play the piano because I didn't break my piano-playing foot, but the doctor said she wanted me to rest as long as I could. What am I even supposed to do by myself for a few more weeks?"

"Enjoy your time off. At least you're not on-call at all times."

"It would be weird to be an on-call piano teacher. I don't think there are piano emergencies, outside of cartoons."

"I can handle it if you fall off a balcony, but if a piano falls on you I don't think there's much I can do."

"Oh, come on, you're strong, you could definitely lift a piano off of me." 

"Wouldn't do much good if you were flat as a pancake," joked Sandor. "Besides, how do you know I'm strong? I could just be big." 

"You could lift me up with no problem."

"That could've just been adrenaline." 

"Sandor!" chided Sansa. "Why can't you accept a compliment?"

Sandor shrugged. "Because I'm not used to them, I guess."

"Then it is my sacred duty to get you used to them." 

"Don't get me used to something I'll never experience again."

Sansa's smile fell. "It breaks my heart that you have such a low opinion of yourself and such a pessimistic view of the world." 

"It's not pessimism, it's realism."

"That's what every pessimist says."

Sandor didn't know what to say. He had clearly upset Sansa and had no idea how to fix it. She stared down at her spaghetti, a disappointed look on her face. He thought for a moment, then slowly offered, "I've been thinking... I could build you a birdhouse."

Sansa looked up at him. "A birdhouse?"

"I could build a birdhouse and you could paint it. And we could hang it on your balcony."

"Will Mr. Mormont allow that?"

Sandor shrugged. "He'll have to. Or I'll threaten to go to the candle shop and tell that girl he likes her."

Sansa giggled. "You're evil."

"Yes, I am."

"I'd love it if you made me a birdhouse. But then I'd owe you another dinner."

"You wouldn't owe me anything, it would be a gift."

"Nope. I'd have to have you over for dinner again. Twice, actually. A dinner for you to deliver the birdhouse and another for you to hang it once I've painted it."

"If you insist."

"I do." Sansa seemed to think for a moment, then asked, her voice quiet, "Sandor, can I ask you a question?"

"Anything."

"If you were in Mr. Mormont's shoes and you were developing feelings for somebody, but you couldn't tell how they felt, would you still give it a shot?"

Without thinking, Sandor answered honestly. "No." 

"Oh."

"I might can scrap together a birdhouse by next week. And we could have dinner on Friday again."

Sansa grinned. "It's a date."

—————————————————

The two spent the rest of that night eating and chatting, until Sandor eventually wandered home, his head full of images of red hair and porcelain skin. Their dinner had almost felt like an actual date, not just a turn of phrase Sansa had haphazardly used, completely unaware of how besotted he was with her. 

It felt like a fairytale. She was the beautiful princess and he was the monster who wanted to steal her away from her castle. But when she fell, she'd looked at him like he was her knight in shining armor.

He had no idea why she wanted to spend time with him, but he knew he needed to take this opportunity to prove to her, and himself, that he wasn't the kind of gross asshole who jerked off in the woods. 

—————————————————

"Mormont."

Mormont looked up from the papers he was looking at at his desk in his office in the main building. "Clegane?"

"You got wood?" asked Sandor.

"Wood?" asked Mormont. 

"Wood to build a birdhouse with." 

"Build a birdhouse?"

"That's what I said," said Sandor. Mormont had a perplexed look on his face. "Do you have wood or not?"

"I do, in the storage shed out by the dumpster. Why are you building a birdhouse?"

Sandor sighed. "It's a long story."

"Does it have something to do with the amount of time you've been spending at Building 6?"

"Are you fucking tracking me?" asked Sandor. The stalker is now the stalked, he thought. 

"I'm not blind, Clegane. I could recognize you or your green truck a mile away and I've been seeing both heading in the direction of Building 6." 

"I've been birdwatching."

Mormont leaned back in his swivel chair. "Yeah, sure, bird watching. And I go to Dragonstone Candle Co for the candles."

"Fuck off, Mormont." Sandor turned around and left the building. 

—————————————————

Sandor gathered the wood from the shed and set it on the floor of his apartment. He stared at it for a few minutes before picking up a piece of wood, turning it over in his hands a few times, then tossing it back down to the pile. 

Maybe I should just go buy a birdhouse and say I built it, he thought. But he couldn't lie to Sansa like that. Besides, she deserved the best. Being a handyman, he already had all the necessary tools, but he didn't know where to start. 

At least I've got until Friday.

—————————————————

 Sandor showed up at Sansa's apartment thirty minutes early again, proudly holding a birdhouse. It wasn't perfect, but it was sturdy and mostly symmetrical, and was somehow a more intimate gift than flowers. 

Sansa called for Sandor to come in, and when he did, he found a similar scene to the week before, with her back to him as she hopped around in the kitchen. Today she wore a baby blue dress and an apron embroidered with lemons. She looks like a fucking 1950s housewife, thought Sandor. She's so fucking perfect.

"What's on the menu tonight?" he asked. 

"Crockpot meatballs and rice," she replied. "I know we had meatballs last week with our spaghetti, but this is different. And I never get to make them since they take around four hours in the crockpot, and I normally don't have the time."

"Now you have nothing but time."

"Exactly! I feel like you just get me, Sandor." 

Sandor walked over to the kitchen but stood out of her way. So lost in her cooking, Sansa didn't notice the birdhouse. "Normally when I cook, I put on music and I sing and dance, but I can't when I'm still on crutches."

"I'm sure there's a dance you could do with just one functioning foot."

"But those dances require a partner," said Sansa, as she finally turned around to face him. When she saw the birdhouse, her mouth fell open. "Holy shit! You built that for me?"

"I said I would, didn't I?" 

"It's amazing!"

Sandor chuckled. "Yeah, I guess it's not bad for my first time building one."

"Thank you so much, Sandor," said Sansa as she hopped over to him. "I can't wait to paint it."

"Painting it red will attract cardinals." Sandor only knew this information because he had Googled facts about cardinals in order to seem like an actual birdwatcher.

Sansa beamed as she took the birdhouse from Sandor. "It's perfect. Thank you." 

"All in a day's work."

"I knew, from the moment I first saw you helping Mrs. Tyrell with her groceries, that you were a big ol' loveable sweetheart just pretending to be a tough asshole." 

"No, I'm still an asshole." 

"No, you're not!"

"I'm definitely not lovable."

"Let's agree to disagree on that one. But I'm glad my intuition was right. The more I get to know you, the more I like you."

Sandor only smiled at her, fearing that he would say the wrong thing. Sansa put the birdhouse on the counter and went back to cooking. 

Soon the rice was done, as were the meatballs, and Sandor helped set the table again, before helping Sansa into her chair. "You're such a gentleman," she said.

Sandor thought, I wish I was half the gentleman you think I am. 

—————————————————

"And that's why I think it should be illegal to chew gum in public," said Sansa as Sandor helped her recline on the couch after dinner. He sat down at the other end.

"You make a compelling argument." 

"Of course I do." She tried to adjust her feet on the couch, then winced in pain. "God, my foot hurts."

"Healing takes time."

"I know, but I'm ready to dance! Sometimes I pick up my cat and dance around with her. She only hates it a little bit."

Sandor laughed. "You need a proper dance partner until you get better."

"Yeah. Do you dance?"

"Fuck no."

"I can show you!"

"Not a good idea." 

"Why not?"

"I've got two left feet. Two gigantic left feet. What if I stomp on you?"

"If you stomp on me, I get even more time off work. And if I die because I gambled on dancing, I'll still die happy."

"You're absolutely fucking ridiculous, you know that?"

"Someone's got to be. Dance with me, Sandor."

Sandor couldn't resist those hypnotic ice blue eyes. "We can try." 

"Good. Now help me up."

"Don't be so demanding, princess," joked Sandor as he stood and extended his hands to her. She took them and hoisted herself up. Unsteady without her crutches, she leaned against his chest as her hands found their way up his arms, across his biceps and to his shoulders. Every touch from her felt like a jolt of electricity shooting through his body, and the feeling of her breasts against his broad chest made his cock begin to hurt, but he tried his best to ignore all the nasty thoughts running through his mind. I have to pretend to be the gentleman she thinks I am, he thought.

"Okay, put your hands around my waist," said Sansa. 

Sandor did as he was told. 

"Now we just have to step around the room in a pattern and pretend there's nice ballroom music playing."

"We probably should have put on music before I helped you up."

"Too late now. Let's sway."

"Sway?"

"Like a branch in the breeze. Come on, birdwatcher, sway with me."

Sandor stepped to the side, and Sansa followed suit. "Walk around like you're walking around a square," she instructed.

Sandor stepped backward, and Sansa nodded her approval. He stepped to the side and then took a step forward. Sansa followed his lead with ease, like a professional. Sandor had no doubt that as the daughter of a local politician, she'd have to learn how to be as ladylike as possible. They continued this pattern in relative silence for a minute, until Sandor tripped.

Just like when Sansa fell from her balcony, everything seemed to happen in slow motion. A look of fear flashed on Sansa's face as both of them tumbled to the carpet. But luckily, she landed on top of Sandor.

"Are you all right?" asked Sandor. 

"Yeah. You?"

"I'm fine. I'm glad you landed on me. Can't have you breaking something else."

"Honestly, if I break something else just call me an Uber. You've been too good to me already." 

Sandor shook his head. "You'll need your guard dog with you."

"That's true." Sansa was laying on top of Sandor, and they were face to face, but neither of them made any effort to move. "You know, I've never really been particularly clumsy until I moved here."

"You're a Northern girl. I bet you're used to walking on snow."

Sansa laughed. "You're right." She adjusted herself so that she was propped up on one elbow, her hand supporting her head. Her face was right above Sandor's and her elbow was next to his ear. Her long red hair fell down and tickled his skin.

Sandor glanced down and saw the tops of Sansa's breasts squished up against him. Her dress wasn't extremely low cut, but it was low enough for him to see her cleavage, which he had been trying very hard to ignore. Sansa adjusted herself again, leaning over slightly. She smelled amazing, like lemons and something else he couldn't quite place, and her warmth was intoxicating. He would have gladly stayed in that moment forever.

"Sandor?" asked Sansa quietly.

"Yeah?" He looked to her face, to see that she was seemingly studying his. 

"If I ask if I can kiss you, would you say yes?" 

Sandor felt like he must have misheard her.

"What?"

"If you want to say no, that's okay. We can just pretend that my pain medication messes with my brain. Maybe it does, I don’t know."

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, I would say yes."

Sansa beamed. "Good. So can I kiss you?"

"Yes." 

As soon as the word left Sandor’s mouth, Sansa leaned down, her lips meeting his slowly and gently. Sandor’s hands found their way to Sansa’s back, and he knew he had never been happier in his life. Sansa smiled against his lips, then lifted her head up. “Sandor?”

“Yes?”

“Is that a screwdriver in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

Sandor was petrified, but decided to take a risk and match her jovial manner. “A screwdriver isn’t nearly as thick.”

Sansa grinned. “Thought so.” Her hand was on his chest, and it snaked its way down, nearing the top of his jeans.

Sandor grabbed her hand and stopped her. “Don’t start something you can't finish, little bird.” 

“Who says I can’t?”

“I need a favor first.”

“Oh?”

“You have to let me thank you for dinner.” 

Sansa smirked. “And how would you do that?”

It’s now or never, he thought. “Let’s stand up.”

Sansa did as she was told, and once both of them were standing, Sandor picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, eliciting an excited google from her. He carried her to her bedroom, where her cat was curled up on the bed. When she saw him coming, the cat darted out of the room, and Sandor gently laid Sansa on her back on the bed. 

“How's your ankle?” he asked her. 

“Fine,” said Sansa. She was breathing heavily, and her eyes remained fixed on him. 

“Good.” Sandor then climbed on the bed to where he was right next to Sansa, leaning over her. She grabbed him by his hair and pulled him in for a kiss, which he enjoyed thoroughly, pushing his tongue inside her mouth like he’d always dreamed. She seemed surprised but didn’t pull away from him, and he took that as a sign to continue. He buried his face in her neck, nibbling gently, and he began to fondle her breast with one hand. She let out a small whimper and reached up, trying to pull the top of her dress down. He kissed her on the lips again, softly biting her bottom lip, and he slid his hand all the way down her body and up under her dress. He slid two fingers into her underwear to press against her, and to his delight, she was perfectly wet for him. 

Sansa broke from the kiss to whisper, “Take off my dress, please. If you want.”

“So polite,” Sandor said with a snicker. He helped her sit up a little more so she could pull the dress over her head and toss it onto the floor. Her bra came off next and was similarly discarded. Sansa tried to wiggle out of her underwear, but Sandor stopped her and growled in her ear, “Leave that for me.”

Sansa bit her lip and laid her head back on the pillow as Sandor crawled on top of her and scooted down the bed. He was too large to fit on her bed so he had to get off the bed and pull her by her bare thighs toward him, until his face was just above her crotch. Sansa shivered with excitement as he delicately pulled her underwear off of her. He gently eased the same two fingers as before into her, his thumb flicking her clit softly. She let out a gasp, which turned into a quiet moan when he pulled his fingers away from her and replaced him with his mouth. 

Sansa reached down and ran her fingers through his dark hair and when he pushed his tongue into her she arched her back. He brought one hand up to tease her clit with the thumb while his other hand reached up and grabbed a handful of tit. So fucking perfect, he thought as his lips kissed and lapped and sucked at her pussy. Sansa bucked her hips up reflexively, which only buried his face further into her. Her hand tightened around his head and her legs began to twitch, before she finally came in his mouth.

After a moment, Sandor sat back, still kneeling on the ground at the foot of the bed. Sansa was staring up at the ceiling, having clearly enjoyed what he’d done to her. Finally, she softly said, “Nobody’s ever done that before.”

“What? Licked your cunt?”

“That, too.”

“What, then?”

 Sansa propped herself up on her elbows so she could look at him. “Made me orgasm.” 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” 

”It’s true.”

Sandor crawled back onto the bed next to her, propping himself up so he was still above her. She was sweating, which made her body glow in the most entracing way. After months of daydreaming and fantasizing, he finally had the real thing, up close and personal. He could hardly believe it. “I live at 106 if you ever want more.”

“Definitely.” 

“I’ll even let you ride my face, once your ankle is healed.” 

“Ugh, Sandor, I’m obsessed with you.”

You have no idea what obsession is, he thought. He smiled at her and kissed her forehead. “Anything else, princess?”

“Yes,” said Sansa as she looked up at him, her icy blue eyes staring into his soul. “I want to finish what I started.” He then felt her hand caressing him through his jeans. 

Sandor kissed her on the lips and reached down to unzip his pants. Soon he was pulling them down along with his boxers,  and he immediately felt her slender fingers around him, pulling and twisting. Her hand felt amazing, better than he’d ever dreamed, but he still couldn’t resist the urge to moan, “Spread your legs.”

Sansa opened her legs for him and he slid on top of her. Her soft pale skin was a stark contrast to his rough hands as he cupped her breasts, then grabbed her by the hip and positioned her how he needed her. Bracing himself on her white headboard, he kissed her collarbone and angled his cock against her, before easing himself inside her. She gasped loudly as he entered her, but the initial look of pain on her face faded away as she began to grind around underneath him. Her leg with the non-broken ankle wrapped around his hips, locking him to her, and he shoved in deeper, rocking back and forth. Her moans were the prettiest sound he’d ever heard and they grew louder and louder as he pushed into her. Her cunt was warm and tight around his cock, and he knew he wouldn’t last long. He came into her with a loud grunt, filling her up with his seed like he’d always imagined. But she kept grinding against him, bucking her hips, so he didn’t pull out of her. One of her hands scratched across his back while the other pulled his hair, and it felt as if she was pulling him in as close as humanly possible. Finally, she orgasmed again, a gentle sigh escaping her lips.

Sandor rolled off of her. “Sansa–”

“I love the way you say my name.” 

“The feeling’s mutual.”

“Do you wanna stay the night?”

Sandor looked over at the stunning woman beside him. “More than anything, little bird.”

#sansan #sandor x sansa #sandor clegane #sandor clegane x sansa stark #sansa stark x sandor clegane #sansan fanfic #game of thrones #got fanfic #my writing #my sansan #my fanfic #asoiaf

[chippedcupwrites]

the universal experience of trying to figure out why the Hound is being so gentle to that one girl

#sansan #sandor clegane #sansa stark #the hound #got #game of thrones #gotedit #gameofthronesedit #rory mccann #gotsansastark #gotsandorclegane #sansastarkedit #sandorcleganeedit #my edits #my sets #my got sets #my sandor sets #my sansa sets

[banadraw]

today discord draw party with @frenchublog and bb

we really draw A LOT this time omg lol

#sansan #sansa stark #sandor clegane #sansa x sandor #helaena targaryen #komugi x meruem #merukomu #komugi #meruem #shinlan #bayshin #shin hati #baylan skoll #migwen #miguel ohara #gwen stacy #slico #jinx #arcane fanart #build tags for my friends lol it's too many characters #fan art #my art #draw party

[lazzzyscummm]

im weak🫡

#sansa stark #sandor clegane #sansan #the hound #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #game of thrones #artists on tumblr #my art

[a0random0gal]

Shipping in Asoiaf and hotd be like:

#I swear to God like 80% of ships in this world are veeery illegal #Sansa especially o my god I only know like one or two popular ships that don't involve her with a grown man #Guys she's thirteen #house of the dragon #hotd #asoiaf #alicent hightower #viserys i targaryen #daemon targeryan #rhaenyra targaryen #daemyra #Alicent hightower x viserys I targaryen #Sansa stark #sansan #sandor clegane #little finger #petyr baelish #petyr x sansa #tyrion lannister #sansa x tyrion #rhaegar targaryen #lyanna stark #rhaegar x lyanna #Robert baratheon #He's on this list because of that 14 year old girl he knocked up #aemma arryn #Aemma x Viserys #Honestly I could go on these are just the first ones I came up with #Ned isn't on this list and that's why he's the best period #daenerys x drogo

[catofoldstones]

Sansa Stark whenever the psycho bitch who killed her father or the next top contenders for Westeros’ most traumatised unaware pedophiles try to info dump & project their secrets/plans/opinions on her

#sansa stark #asoiaf #cersei lannister #anti tyrion lannister #anti sandor clegane #anti hound #or as I like to call it Sansa Stark throughout asoiaf #anti littlefinger #lf is a warning of his own #t reads asoiaf #and wants to kill almost all of the men in it #currently on: acok #← this tag so I can keep track #anti petyr baelish #I want my girl catching a break at least in the next book please #game of thrones #got #anti sansan

[ippoliya]

He snorted. “There are no true knights, no more than there are gods. If you can’t protect yourself, die and get out of the way of those who can. Sharp steel and strong arms rule this world, don’t ever believe any different.”

Sansa backed away from him. “You’re awful.”

“I’m honest. It’s the world that’s awful. Now fly away, little bird, I’m sick of you peeping at me.”

Wordless, she fled. She was afraid of Sandor Clegane … and yet, some part of her wished that Ser Dontos had a little of the Hound’s ferocity. There are gods, she told herself, and there are true knights too. All the stories can’t be lies. - Sansa IV, ACOK

#Sansa Stark #ASOIAF #valyrianscrolls #lately i've done nothing but read sansan essays and i love how packed their interactions are #my art #valyrian scrolls

[dr3adlady]

✨Fires I'd Touch Willingly ✨

A piece I did a few months ago of Sansa and Sandor sharing their first kiss. It became the inspiration for Wolfswood, but I changed the scene a lot in order for it to fit in the story. I still love it, tho 🥰

#asoiaf #sansa stark #sandor clegane #post canon #sansan #my little crybabies #first kiss #love #comic #oneshot

[anya-draws-stuff]

Here's no. 3 of 4 drawings for @tm-writes SanSan fanfic "Power Play"

Sorry for being m.i.a. the last two weeks. I caught a cold that knocked me right out. But I'm good now and I'm back with some new art. :)

Anyway, I will never tire of praising this fanfic, so go check it out if you haven't already.

#sansa stark #sophie turner #rory mccann #sansan #sandor clegane #modern au game of thrones #sansan4ever #game of thrones fanart #asoiaf fanart #fic: power play #writer: tm-writes #fanfic #fanfic fanart #digital art #fanart #myart #my artwork #sandor x sansa #sandor and sansa #sansa x sandor

[vladiator]

The Hound and the Fox

a Sansan fanfic (also on AO3)

Rating: Mature Fandoms: Game of Thrones (TV), A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms Relationships: Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark Characters: Sandor Clegane, Sansa Stark Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, (Meant to be historical but can be read as modern), Stranger is a dog, Cabin, Shapeshifting, Shapeshifting Sansa, self-sabotaging Sandor Length: 3492 words

"I've heard of men who turned into wolves, but never a woman who turned into a fox."

In which Sandor Clegane lives in a lonely cabin in the woods, and rescues a fox who turns out to be more than meets the eye.

The sound of a woman's scream pierced through the night and woke Sandor. He shot up in bed, immediately wondering if the sound had been a remnant of a nightmare he was having. Sometimes he dreamt of the fire that destroyed his face and in part made him the man he was. But such dreams were usually silent. 

As soon as Sandor laid back down, there was another scream. It was definitely human, which was odd, because nobody lived near Sandor. That was the whole point of living in the woods, to escape the noise and troubles of other people. 

Sandor slowly got out of bed, waking his dog, who always slept on the floor near him. "Come on, Stranger," he said. "We'll never get any sleep if we don't find out what that is." 

Sandor pulled on some proper clothes; he knew better than to go traipsing through the forest in nothing but his skivvies. There were low branches and brambles, thorns that would cut anything that came near. He lived in the thickest and darkest part of the woods, but that was exactly how he liked it. He then exited the bedroom and grabbed a lantern, as well as his shotgun; there was no telling what could be lurking outside his door. 

Sandor and his dog left their cabin and slowly began to make their way in the direction of the screams. Whatever it was out there, or whoever it was, was clearly in agony. Sandor had heard tales of forest spirits tricking men into following them into the deepest, darkest woods, but luckily he didn't believe in such things. He trudged through the brush with only the warm light of the lantern to guide him, unsure of what he would find. It sounded like a woman, but what woman would be out here at this hour? He didn't have any neighbours for miles, and he was unsure if any of them had wives or daughters. It must be a cat, he thought.Those fuckers have human screams, don’t they? I'll put it out of its misery and we'll be back to sleep in no time.

The screaming grew louder as Sandor wandered through the woods, and he knew he must be getting close. He was also getting agitated, as he would much rather have been snoring away in bed. He didn't really need much sleep, but he did thoroughly enjoy it, except for when he was having nightmares. 

Stranger trotted ahead, clearly smelling something interesting. It wasn't long before they found the source of the sound, and to Sandor’s surprise, it was a fox. He had had no idea that such a small creature could make such a bone-chillingly human sound, but now he understood why: the poor creature's leg was stuck in a bear trap and was bleeding. But it stopped screaming as soon as it saw Sandor, and stared up at him, frozen in fear. 

This was nothing new, of course. Most creatures, human or otherwise, were frightened of him. That was part of being scarred and ugly and big. The last time he'd gone into town he heard people whisper of a monster in his part of the woods, a gargantuan one with half a face, and it didn't take a genius to work out that it was him someone had seen. That someone, whoever they were, had embellished the tale a bit, but he still knew he was the monster.

Sandor knelt down slowly so as to not upset the fox any further. This wasn't his bear trap, it likely belonged to his closest neighbour, a man called Mormont who as far as Sandor could tell was a hermit like him. Normally, Sandor would have just killed the critter and made a hat or something out of its fur, but there was something about this fox that made him hesitate. Its eyes were blue, an odd colour for a fox, and strangely hypnotic. He felt oddly compelled to help this creature, and so he reached down and freed it from the trap. The fox immediately tried to stand up, but couldn't, as its leg was too badly wounded. Sandor sighed and looked at his dog Stranger, who cocked his head as if to say, "The hell are we doing?"

Sandor shook his head, but at what he didn't know. If he didn't help the fox, it would surely die, either by bleeding out or by being attacked by some sort of predator. But he also recognized that this was an odd thought to have: he was a predator, and he should have been taking advantage of the situation. But somehow he couldn't, somehow he didn't have it in his heart to kill this fox that looked up at him with such bizarrely human eyes. His shotgun slung across his back, he delicately picked up the fox, and carried it home. 

The entire walk, Stranger trotted beside Sandor with a look of confusion on his canine face. He was a hound dog, he knew what his prey was. In fact, in this moment it seemed he knew better than Sandor. But they walked back to their cabin, and Sandor gently placed the fox onto his armchair before lighting a fire. It was autumn, and the night air had been chilly. He knew that if he had been stuck in a bear trap in such weather, he'd want a warm fire as well. 

The fuck am I doing? Sandor thought to himself as he gathered some supplies to help dress the fox's wound. This is ridiculous. A few years of solitude and I've gone soft. And yet, he still found himself kneeling down beside the armchair. He gently took the fox's back paw in his large hand, and it flinched at his touch, before quickly realising that he was only trying to help. 

The wound was deep, but Sandor had seen worse on both humans and animals, and he was able to bandage it easily. The fox seemingly understood that it was going to be all right, and it curled up on the chair and fell asleep. 

Still sitting on the floor, Sandor let out a little sigh of relief. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Stranger cocking his head at him again, clearly perplexed. "What? It doesn't hurt to do a good deed once in a while," he said to the hound. 

I'm explaining myself to a dog, he thought. I must have really lost it.

Sandor got up from the floor and took off his boots, tossing them by the door as he always did. Next his coat came off, and that was discarded on the floor as well. He turned to walk toward his bedroom, and whistled for Stranger to follow. But the dog stayed where he was, laying on the floor, staring at the fox.

"No, you can't eat it," scolded Sandor. "Or the good deed will have been for nothing. Come on."

A small snarl flickered across the dog's lips. There was something he didn't like, or was confused by, but Sandor had no idea what. The fox was obviously no threat to them, and Stranger normally didn't have a taste for foxes anyway - he vastly preferred rabbits. Sandor shook his head at the dog and began to walk to his bedroom, his back turned to the armchair. Suddenly, his dog began to whine, so Sandor turned on his heels and immediately saw why. In the fox's place was a young woman, the most beautiful Sandor had ever seen. She was entirely nude except for the bandage that was wrapped around her leg, and her waist-length auburn hair. Her skin was as pale as moonlight, and she looked as peaceful as she was stunning. 

He silently decided that this was, in fact, a dream, one far more pleasant than his normal nightly terrors. He picked his coat off the floor and delicately draped it across the sleeping woman, then turned back to his bedroom. This time, Stranger dutifully followed.

—☾—☾—☾—☾—☾—☾—☾—☾—☾—☾—☾—☾—☾—☾—

The next morning, Sandor woke up slowly, having nearly forgotten the events of the previous night. He had decided that it was a dream and that was that, until he trudged into his den to find the fire still going and his dream still sleeping in his chair. 

"Bloody hell," he whispered to himself. 

The woman stirred ever so slightly, and Sandor found himself uncharacteristically panicked, unsure of what to do in the strange case of a strange woman being in his cabin. He decided to just stand there as she opened her eyes, which were, of course, a mesmerising shade of blue. When the woman saw him, a small smile crossed her lips as she sat up in the armchair. "You saved me," she said. Her voice was beautiful and delicate, just as she was. 

Sandor nodded awkwardly. "That I did."

"Thank you," replied the woman. Sandor couldn't remember the last time he'd seen such a warm smile directed at him, much less from a woman. 

"It was nothing," he said, but it was something. In fact, it was everything. If he'd known that saving foxes led to such a lovely woman sitting in his chair and looking at him like she wasn't afraid, he would have done it more often. The way she looked at him made him almost forget that most people saw him as a monster, disfigured and hideous. 

Sandor’s coat was still draped across the woman, and she tried to offer it to him, holding it out and saying, "I believe this is yours." 

"You can keep it." That was a damn good coat, but the young woman had nothing else to wear, and he desperately needed her to stay covered, or his mind would be flooded with the ungentlemanly thoughts he'd been too tired to think the night before. He didn't want to frighten this girl, especially when she possibly still needed his help. 

"You are so kind," replied the woman. "I wish there were more people like you."

Most people would think otherwise, Sandor thought, but he bit his tongue. "Are you hungry?"

"Famished!" 

"All right. What do people like you eat?" As soon as the words left his mouth, he wanted to punch himself. Shut the fuck up, you dumb bastard, he thought to himself. 

"People like me?" joked the woman. "You mean women?"

"I mean, women who turn into foxes. Or foxes who turn into women. Whichever one you are." 

The woman laughed softly. "I could eat anything."

"Eggs? I've got a chicken out back." 

"Of course."

Sandor nodded and left the cabin, leaving Stranger inside with the woman. He did have a chicken out back, a grumpy old hen that didn't even have a name. He didn't purchase this hen, she just showed up at the cabin one day and made a nest, seemingly understanding that he would provide her with protection from animals that would eat her in exchange for eggs. Sandor was now wondering if this hen was secretly a woman, too. 

Sandor gathered some eggs and headed back inside, where the woman was raking her slender fingers through her red hair, and Stranger sat on the floor watching her. Sandor immediately set to work in the small kitchen, heating up the wood stove and cracking the eggs onto the pan. As he cooked, he occasionally stole glances at the woman wrapped up in his coat. He'd had no idea that anything could be this beautiful. But then, when he looked up to glance at her again, he saw that she was already looking at him. When their eyes met, she smiled. 

Go on, you idiot, say something, he thought. "I've heard of men who turned into wolves, but never a woman who turned into a fox."

The woman smiled shyly and nodded. "I believe I am a rare case."

"Your family– are they foxes as well?"

"I have no family. Not anymore." 

"Neither do I."

"You have your dog."

Sandor chuckled. "He's not really family, more of an old friend. His name is Stranger."

"A good name. What is yours?"

It wasn't until this point that Sandor realised he didn't know the woman's name, nor did she know his. "Sandor."

"Sandor," said the woman. The way she said his name sent a pleasant shiver up his spine, and he wanted to hear her say it again and again. "I'm Sansa." 

"Your name suits you." 

Sansa beamed. "You think so?"

Sandor wanted to say, It's as beautiful as you are, but only nodded instead. He didn't want to frighten away the only visitor this cabin had ever had. Normally, he thoroughly enjoyed his solitude and loathed any sort of attention, but then again, he normally never saw anyone as enchantingly gorgeous as Sansa. 

Soon the eggs were ready. Since he lived alone, Sandor only had one chair at his small table, so he pulled the table and chair toward the armchair so he could sit and eat with Sansa. She smiled warmly when he handed her her plate and fork. 

"You are too kind," said Sansa. "I don't know how I can possibly repay you for what you've done for me."

"You don't need to."

"You saved my life. Perhaps when I can run again, I could hunt you a rabbit."

"Your life is worth much more than a rabbit."

"I could bring you my weight's worth in rabbits?"

"That's not what I meant," said Sandor as he shook his head. "Besides, that's what Stranger is for."

"I must find a way to repay you."

"Having breakfast with an ugly bastard like me is good enough."

Sansa frowned slightly. "You shouldn't speak of yourself like that."

"I shouldn’t speak truthfully?"

"You should, but that isn't the truth. You've been nothing but helpful." 

"So maybe I'm not a bastard then," chuckled Sandor, but Sansa had a stern look on her face. 

"Nor are you ugly. You should treat yourself as kindly as you've treated me."

"I don't plan on having to rescue myself from any bear traps any time soon." 

Sansa furrowed her brow at him in frustration. "Now I remember why I live as a fox rather than a girl. People are such horrid creatures." 

"Sansa, I didn't mean it like that–"

"I shall be gone soon enough and you won't have to worry about me."

"You're still injured. You can't go back out there."

"Why do you care?"

"I–" That question had thrown Sandor off. Why did he care? He had always wanted to be left alone, but perhaps that was only because he hated the way people reacted to his scars. This was the first time someone had ever truly looked at him as if he didn't have them. "I think I know how you can repay me." 

Sansa’s eyebrow shot up. "How?" 

"A kiss." The words felt dirty coming out of Sandor’s mouth, but that was all he truly wanted. 

Sansa cocked her head at him, the same way Stranger looked at him when confused. "That is all?" 

"Yes." 

"A kiss, in exchange for rescuing me?"

Sandor nodded. 

There it was again, that dangerously beautiful smile Sandor felt himself growing addicted to. Despite barely knowing this woman, this fox, he only wanted to make her happy. The way he saw it, such a beautiful woman deserved to feel nothing but joy. He was actually surprised to see her smile at his request; he'd almost expected her to react in disgust and fear, but thought it was worth a shot anyway.

Sansa had been curled up on the chair, with her legs tucked under the coat with the rest of her, but now she slowly tried to stand, bracing herself on the table with one hand. The coat slid off of her and onto the floor, revealing her slender and pale frame. Sandor had never seen a woman so unashamed and unafraid of her own nudity, and Sansa was unsurprisingly lovely from head to toe. He tried desperately to keep his eyes on her face as she shuffled around the table to him, her leg clearly causing her pain. Instinctively, Sandor reached out his hand to help steady her, and Sansa shifted herself so that his large hand found itself on her waist. A chill ran across Sandor's entire body as soon as he touched her bare skin. Balancing between the table and his hand, Sansa limped over to him, and when she was closer she threw her arms across his shoulders to steady herself in front of him. 

Sandor couldn't believe the beauty before him. He allowed himself one quick glance over her body, and was in total awe of her.

Although he was tall, when he was sitting he was nearly eye-level to her, and he found himself lost in her sapphire eyes. He was sitting with his knees apart, and she positioned herself between them. His hand still around her waist, she leaned toward him, slowly but with a look of determination on her face. She closed the small gap between them, gently kissing Sandor on his lips, sending a shockwave of emotion through his body. 

Sandor wished that moment could last an eternity, with her soft lips on his. She tasted of honey, lemon, and blood, and he had never been happier in his life. 

Then, Sansa’s leg failed her, and her knees buckled. But Sandor still had one hand around her waist and his other quickly moved to stabilise her as well, and he kept her from falling. This ended their kiss, and although a flash of disappointment did cross his mind, all he cared about was Sansa’s safety.

To his surprise, Sansa giggled and allowed herself to fall up against him, leaning her chest on his. It seemed that Sandor's comments of self-hatred were by now forgiven, and for a moment it almost seemed that Sansa was enjoying this as much as he was. She must not have seen a human man in quite some time, thought Sandor. Otherwise she would know how ugly I am. But still, his arms wrapped around her waist and he pulled her closer. 

"Can I ask you a question?" asked Sansa

"Of course."

"How did you get your scars?"

Sandor sighed and anxiously scratched the burnt side of his face. "My brother burnt me when we were children."

"That's terrible."

"There are worse things that could happen."

"Knowing that doesn't make it easier, though." Sansa's eyes studied him intensely. "Does it hurt?"

"No." 

"Can you feel it at all?"

"A bit." 

Then, to Sandor’s surprise, Sansa leaned in again and kissed him on his burnt cheek. All sensation on that side was normally dull, but he felt her, in his soul. Whatever this woman was, she was bewitching him in some way. Sansa then moved her face to Sandor's ear and whispered, "That was to thank you for breakfast."

"You're welcome," muttered Sandor. His heart was already beating incredibly fast, and when he glanced down and saw her breasts pushed up against his chest, he felt as if he was going to explode. Without thinking, he ran one of his hands up and down her back. 

After a moment, Sandor said, "It would probably be best if you stay a while, while your leg heals." 

"Would I pay you in a kiss each day I am in your home?"

"Perhaps." 

Sansa smiled. "And a kiss for each meal we share?"

"I suppose."

"And perhaps I could pay it all now?"

A smirk crossed Sandor's face. "If you wish."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Sansa's lips were on his again, this time kissing him deeper than before. Sandor kissed back and ran his fingers through her auburn hair. Yet again he wondered if this was a dream, but he decided that if it was, he no longer wished to wake up. 

Sandor wrapped his arms around Sansa and lifted her up, eliciting a small gasp from the woman. He stood up, and she continued kissing him, even wrapping her legs around him as he carried her to his bedroom.

—☾—☾—☾—☾—☾—☾—☾—☾—☾—☾—☾—☾—☾—☾—

The fox woman never did leave Sandor’s cabin, even when her leg had healed entirely. Sandor allowed her to make herself some clothes from his old shirts, and together they spent their days walking through the woods and hunting. Occasionally on their walks Sansa would strip off her clothes and transform into a fox, chasing down small animals for them to eat. Other times, Sansa would strip off her clothes and beckon for Sandor to do the same, and they would make love in the grass, hoping that old Mormont wouldn't stumble across them. But even if he ever did, they wouldn't have noticed. Sandor remained as entranced by Sansa's blue eyes as he had been the first time they met, when he and his hound saved a fox from a trap. 

#sansan #sandor clegane #sandor clegane x sansa stark #sansa stark #sansa stark x sandor clegane #fanfic #sansan fanfiction #archiveofourown #ao3 #sansanwritersguild #asoiaf #me #got #au #game of thrones #my writing #my sansan

[beneaththeshadows]

I made this last year while trying to figure out how to shade. I had picked 3 chapters to sketch something about them, either a scene or something else, and for Dany V AGOT, I couldn't, for the sake of me, bring myself to do something I was satisfied with, so I decided to do something more on the "mystical" side of things and this was the result

#Daenerys targaryen #asoiaf #fanart #my art #valyrianscrolls #house targaryen #AGOT #This was sort of a failed lesson as to learn how to shade you need to work with shapes first #as I sadly came to understand #anyway the next chapter will be Sansa VII ACOK with some SanSan #anyway not my best work but I do like the detail on the sky

[alridpath]

Valentines doodles pt 1! Feels good to draw them again 🐶🐺

#alridpath #fanart #illustration #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #game of thrones #sansa stark #sansan #sandor clegane #book version this time to shake things up ain’t that fun #no clue what the scenario here is lol just roll with it #yes she’s aged up but he’s just gigantic in my head so yeah

[chippedcupwrites]

Sansa Stark & Sandor Clegane A Girl and Her Dog

♥ all gifs & image edits are made by me quote and painting attributions under the cut ♥

A Game of Thrones by George R.R Martin │ Herbert Thomas Dicksee, The Vikings Daughter │ A Game of Thrones ep. 2x07 & Lord Byron │ Walton Ford, Gleipnir │ "One More Brevity" by Robert Frost │ A Feast for Crows by George R.R Martin │ The Secret of Moonacre (2008) and "Tuned Girl With Her Dogs" by Vivian Nguyen │ professor-pants │ John Everett Millais, The Crown of Love │ A Game of Thrones ep. 2x06 │ "The Lonely Girl And Her Dog" by Justin Gildow │ Aesop's Fables Cigarette cards (Gallaher Limited), The Wolf and the Lamb & White Oleander by Janet Fitch │ A Storm of Swords by George R.R Martin │ Douglas Malloch │ Regency oil painting, artist unknown │ A Game of Thrones ep. 2x09 & "Soap" by The Oh Hellos │ Pandemonium by Lauren Oliver │ A Change of Heart by Sonali Dev │ A Game of Thrones ep. 8x04 │ Edvard Munch, Love and Pain │ "Little Lost Pup" by Arthur Guiterman │ A Game of Thrones and A Clash of Kings by George R.R Martin & Edwin Henry Landseer, Saved │ "Little Lost Pup" by Arthur Guiterman │ A Clash of Kings by George R.R Martin │ "Start Here” by Caitlyn Siehl │ The Blade Artist by Irvine Welsh │ Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert │ A Game of Thrones ep. 2x07 & Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte │ A Clash of Kings by George R.R Martin │ Mufti Ismail Menk │ A Game of Thrones deleted scene │ John William Waterhouse, Tristan and Isolde with the Potion │ "Start Here” by Caitlyn Siehl │ A Game of Thrones by George R.R Martin │ William Chapman │ "Shrike" by Hozier │ Hans Adolf Bühler, Homecoming │ Gale Smith, Promise of Peace │ "The Taming Of The Beast" by Dean Meredith │ Walton Ford, Gleipnir │

#dedicated to the 'non-romantic familial-soulmate sansan girlies' #all three of us 💖 #sansan #sandor clegane #sansa stark #webweaving #webweave #the hound #game of thrones #got #asoiaf #gotedit #asoiafedit #gameofthronesedit #gotsansastark #gotsandorclegane #rory mccann #my misc edits #my sandor edits #my got edits #my edits #my mind 24/7: 'hound dog dog girl dog gentle protect girl dog gentle paw gentle soothe hound girl protect'

[banadraw]

to my valentine💌

#sansan #sansa stark #sandor clegane #sansa x sandor #asoiaf #fanart #my art #doodle #artists on tumblr

[mybworlds]

My Main Masterlist

Sansa Stark, The princess in the North

Title: The Last of Us: Stay with me

Pairing: Joel Miller x F character

Summary: Eleanor Winters has to hide herself. Joel Miller is broken. They'll meet each other in Jackson. Will Eleanor put a completely broken man together and will Joel bring light into Eleanor's life?

Masterlist

Status: on going

Title: Bittersweet

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: your life is full of 'must'. You live with your overprotective mother who controls every aspect of your life. You have a dream, to write romance novels, but love - real love - you haven't found yet. Your mother has even decided what you must do in your free time: play music. One day, however, when you go to your music teacher's house, you will have an unexpected encounter and from that day on things change…

Masterlist

Status: on going

Title: Our dirty little secret

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: Javier Peña and his partner can't stand each other, but to take down an old enemy they are forced to work together and pretend to be a complacent married couple.

Masterlist

Status: on going

Title: The Blossom of Arkanon

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: This story sets 15 yrs before The Mandalorian events, Din Djarin is hired by Rebel Alliance forces to protect and escort you, the princess of a dead planet, to your new home.

Masterlist

Status: on going

Title: The Mermaid of the Narrow Sea

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x F!Reader

Summary: Essos. You are a slave since you were a little girl. One day you are sold to a mysterious man who could be your only chance to escape and be free.

Masterlist

Status: on going

Title: Sex with stranger, one-shot

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: You, a beautiful stranger, an elevator

Sex with stranger p. 2

Title: His pupil

Pairing: Tim Rockford x F!Reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: Tim Rockford usually works alone and has a bad temper, one day after another woman was found dead he started to believe there's a serial killer around, maybe a useful help will come from an aspiring mystery writer.

Masterlist

Status: on going

Title: You are an obsesión, one-shot

Pairing: dark!dave york x dark!f Reader

Summary: Summary: You are obsessively in love with your neighbor, Dave York. He's perfect, but you know he's a psycho. You're no better.

Title: The Ones We Love

Pairing: joel miller x f!reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: You work in the Millers' company, you are their friend, you have a job you love, your coworkers esteem and love you. Your life is perfect.

Suddenly, one day, you wake up in the hospital, you are alone surrounded by silence and strange noises, your door is barricaded, but what happened? And what happened to the world?

Masterlist

Status: on going

Title: The Outlaws

Pairing: pero tovar x f!reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: You are considered a stranger by almost all the villagers, a witch by some, by others a madwoman who is good to keep away. One day, while you are in the woods, you find an injured man, you decide to take care of him even though you have no idea who he is or why he was found there in the middle of nowhere ignoring that someone else is hunting him and he has to flee, but hiscode of honour requires him not to flee but to return your kindness while putting your lives in danger.

Masterlist

Status: coming soon...

Title: Needs and wants

Pairing: joel miller x f!reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: Your life sounds perfect: you live with a perfect man, you live in your dream house, you do the job you love, you don't miss anything, except love and passion.

Masterlist

Status: on going

#my masterlist #my fanfic writing #my fanfiction #my fanfic ideas #pedro pascal #game of thrones #sansa stark #the Hound #sansan ff #sansa x sandor #the last of us #joel miller #joel x reader #joel fic #joel miller smut #joel the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #javier peña #javier x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fic #javier pena narcos #din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x you #oberyn martell #oberyn x reader #characters

[stheresya]

i think it’s a little bit of a stretch to say that sandor is in love with sansa? like, he’s definitely attracted to her! but we don’t have enough material to label his feelings as "love"…

indeed we don't have enough material to state such a thing for certain. and i believe that what both sansa and sandor feel for each other right now hasn't quite matured into our notions of "love" because neither were in the right headspace to think of each other in a self-acknowledged romantic way, with sansa still being a child living in difficult circumstances and sandor having a lot of issues of his own to deal with. however, it's known that their dynamic is meant to play heavily into the beauty & the beast motif, with sansa as the beauty that inspires sandor who's been animalized his entire life into making himself a man again. if the batb trope being romantic in nature isn't enough, sansa and sandor's dynamic on its own also has romantic elements that one can't simply ignore: the cloaking symbolism which is the most important element of wedding ceremonies in westeros, or the fact that sansa remembers a kiss between her and sandor that never happened, or that she sometimes likes to compare men around her with sandor as if he is the standard, or even that sandor is the person with whom sansa has some of her most emotionally charged interactions. as to sandor, well, we don't have access to his thoughts but we know that sansa has made a great impact in his life, she helped him come to the realization that he deserved dignity, that there were things worth fighting for in the world other than himself. in the arya chapters that he appears in asos it's quite clear how much sansa is often on his mind in the way that he's always talking about her. even his dying thoughts are about her so...

is sandor in love with sansa? not quite, yet. at least i think he hasn't rationalized his current feelings for her as "love" with a capital L. his memories of her are too riddled with guilt for him to think of anything beyond how much he failed her in king's landing. but the seeds have been planted. it's undeniable that his knowing her has shifted the course of his entire life, and i've said before that he had a sense of devotion to sansa that he never had for anyone else, not even joffrey. so considering all the mutual impact that sandor and sansa had on each other, and the romantic trope that their dynamic is meant to play into, all that's left for us is to wonder if the author plans on doing something with that. maybe they'll reunite and their relationship will fully develop into romantic love, maybe they never meet again and sansa will only have the memory of his protection and a kiss that never happened to hold on to. i guess we'll see.

#sandor clegane #sansan #my asks