Game of Thrones: Imagines and one shots. Book four

Twin sword - Sandor x Reader

Bronn, he was the kind of man that you would have expected to have been born out of a pile of vomit in the darkest corner of the dirtiest tavern, or cheapest whorehouse in whatever shithole the bastard came from. The kind of man that you would believe had sprouted out, fully formed, as the snide, sarcastic, amoral prick he was now. Not the type of man to have had a mother, father.......sister. And especially not a twin sister, that thankfully, or at least in Sandor's opinion, looked nothing like him. Not that the difference in looks meant that she could be any less annoying or smug than her sibling. Not that the fact that she was beautifully formed from years of fighting, yet still retained her womanly curves and alluring bounce, meant that she didn't have a terrible habit of getting under his skin, because she did. Sandor sometimes wishing that the little man had never brought the twin sellswords back to Kings Landing with him. The Hound finding himself growling many a time when the imp would stand there with Bronn over one of his shoulders, and his sister (Y/n) over the other. The pair with a hand on the hilt of their swords, as they watched the goings on; just waiting for the moment they would strike with such synchronised fury that it was obvious that they had been fighting side by side, all their lives. But that said, if the little man hadn't brought the irritating pair to the capital, then he currently wouldn't be getting ridden like a wild stallion that (Y/n) was trying to tame. Sandor's eyes set firmly on her bouncing breasts, as he began to thrust upwards, into her. His rough fingertips digging harshly into the flesh of her hips, as the beautiful female sellsword began to make the noises that The Hound had come to know so well since they had first started to fuck wherever and whenever, they could. Sounds that told him she was close; the thought of her coming over him as she rode him like this, pushing Sandor over the edge and with a few more deep, harsh pushes, the two came together. (Y/n) soon falling to his side; the pair taking some deep breaths of air, as their highs lingered.

"I think ya tryin ta kill me, woman.........."

"Is that a complaint, Clegane. Are you seriously moaning about the fact that I am a passionate woman......? Personally, I can think of worse ways to die than being fucked to death; but if you would prefer it that I go and find myself someone else, that would better appreciate my appetites.............." Sandor quickly moving his body over her. The female sellsword smiling up at him as he caged her between his arms.

"Is that jealously I see in your eyes, Sandor......? What, don't ya like the idea of me being with another man. Of me doing the things to him that I do to you.....of his cock being in my..........."

"I don't get jealous............" The growl that came with the words causing a wonderful thrill to go through (Y/n)'s body.

Fine, they had never said that there was anything more to this than satisfying both their primal urges; and gods, could Sandor satisfy her primal urges. They had never said that they wanted more than for this to be the simplest thing possible.....good, hard, fulfilling fucks. Neither one of them desiring something as foolish as romance, or even worse, love. But things had started to change. Not quickly you understand, not something that would be obvious; just subtle things that would happen. Things that would be said out loud, that probably shouldn't have been said out loud. Discrete touches when they passed; shared looks when they were in the same room. (Y/n) finding that she would smile more when she would hear Sandor's voice or would know that she would be seeing him. She admitting that she knew little of love, other than the love she had for her brother. Her parents.......well, she doubted that either of them could feel such an emotion, for they had certainly never expressed it when she and Bronn were young; unless you classed a slap and being told that you were worthless and should never have been born, as a sign of love. But (Y/n) knew that she had begun to feel something for the big man; she not giving a damn about his scared face or his rather gruff demeanour. Not giving a damn about other people's opinions of him, not even her own twins. Bronn often telling her that she could do so much better. That she was far too good, too beautiful for the likes of the Lannister's dog; but she didn't want better, she wanted Sandor. And she had a way of getting what she wanted.

"You tell yourself that, Clegane. I can see it in ya eyes. Ya hate the thought of me being with someone else; of me not needing you.....wanting you.....of........." Sandor's lips crashing into hers. (Y/n)'s arms snaking around his neck so that she could pull him down onto her. There something about his weight being on her, that not only made her feel safe, but incredibly aroused. Her legs wrapping themselves up around his waist; she gasping as her lover slammed his rock-hard cock, back inside her, and growled into her ear.

"Do ya ever shut tha fuck up, woman.......? Might just have ta put something in ya mouth ta quiet ya fa a while. But fa now........." (Y/n) gripping to him, as he slammed into her, over and over again. Her eyes already rolling back into her head from the pleasure.

"Ya mine, understand........? Just mine........" (Y/n) loving the possessiveness in his tone. Adoring the fact that she wanted her as much as she wanted him. (Y/n) aware that neither of them may ever come out and say those three little words; but knowing that he didn't want her to be with anyone else but him, was good enough, for now..........