HI I LOVE THE WAY YOU WRITE SANDOR There's Not Enough Hound Love You Are Doing The Seven's Work

I hope none of you disappear in the coming days. Seriously don't do anything that can't be undone.

How about...

Sandor, or anyone of your choosing, enjoying his breakfast in bed; already warm and ready and right next to him. Of course, breakfast in bed really means a heavy arm across your stomach and his hot mouth on your sticky cunny, licking into your heat and forcing you to cum over and over- but he's as thankful that you're under him and squirming as he'd be if you'd made him a full course meal lmfao

As always,

-🐏non

oh i ate this UP. (pun intended)

table of contents; oral sex, face-sitting (i changed it cause i’m a slag), implied cum eating (he ate it all up).

it’s essential that a man of sandor’s magnitude breaks his fast before a days work. it takes a strong man to bear such armour all day every day. he needs a good, nourishing meal to last him until he returns home in the evenings.

“fuckin’ hells, woman.” he wrenches you back down onto his face. “stop movin’.”

his irritation is muffled by the weight of your thighs, his hands hooked around them. goosebumps ripple over your skin when his tongue lathers you again, knuckles whitening as you cling to the headboard. “gods, sandor— i’m going to suffocate you. . .”

“death by cunt.” he mutters against your engorged slit, ravishing you like a man starved. “guess i’m dying a happy man, then.”

he presses you against his face, inhaling like he’s coming up for air. hot embarrassment stains your skin, but arousal soon replaces the shame when the tip of his nose — crooked from so many breaks — bumps against your clit, his tongue swirling at your entrance.

your hips stammer, the fleshy hood of your mound catching his nose’s wide bridge. you both groan and his fingers curl into you tighter, tongue delving hungrily. then he retracts it, dragging the wet muscle backwards to slot between your swollen lips and toward your pearly bead of nerves.

his dark eyes flit up, wilted and languid. he’s been dining on you for some time; lapping at you and slurping from you and swallowing every drop. “look at me,” he orders, gruff and slightly slurred. you might be the only thing he drinks from more often than tankards.

with a breathless, barely-conscious moan, you cast your foggy gaze downward. your hands drop from the headboard to fist at his hair, his mouth pursing around your little bud as soon as your eyes meet.

you jolt against his face, the velcro roughness of his beard scratching at your slick. he alternates between suckling and pinching your clit to licking his way down the crevice of your folds and into your puckered little hole.

a man can soon grow sick of steak pie and venison casserole, but no man could ever sicken at the chance to eat cunt.

and to yours sandor clegane has certainly succumbed. maybe he’s running a little late, but no matter. a man can grow sick of the king, too. and as big a cunt the king may be, he doesn’t taste near as sweet as yours.

you mewl, rising on your knees when it all gets a little much.

“sit down.” he growls again, forcing you flush against his tongue. “and i didn’t tell you to look away.”

you didn’t realise your eyes had closed, too consumed by his mouth and its hunger. you drift in and out of a daze — eyes watering and stomach contracting. everything tingles, the room is stuffy, your limbs don’t feel like they’re part of you.

he’ll have you cum another four, maybe five times before he’s satisfied his appetite, leaving for work with your scent on his breath. and you’ll be just as he left you, ready to serve him supper.

"you should be at the club" I should be working on my fanfic

And to you, my favorite middle aged male character, I bestow upon thee the highest of honors: AGDAB (assigned girl dad at birth)

displaying this on this account too 🎀

kiss and tell 🎀

könig x reader fluffy drabble <3

warnings: none, unless embarrassment counts

it’s a tiny bit sad in the middle but then we get silly again :)

horangi makes an appearance too!

word count: ~1,400

turns out your husband, könig, isn’t that good at keeping you a secret…

you used to be a night owl, until you met könig. he kinda got you used to his soldier sleep schedule (up at 5 am, in bed by 10pm, when he wasn’t out in the field and forced to go days without sleeping). you were cursing your well adjusted sleep habits now, though, tugging your blanket around your shoulders as you see könig off at the door. it’s near 12 am, your neighborhood is quiet and still, but könig is as alert as ever.

you’d been out having a drawn out, romantic dinner when he’d been called on, but it was an urgent matter, so you two immediately went home so he could shower and pack. he always gets all focused and serious in times like these. he’s going on about the usual safety reminders-

“lock the door at all times, liebes” “don’t go out too late. invite your friends here instead.” “turn your scented candles off before you leave… on second thought, maybe just don’t use them at all? you’re a little forgetful sometimes”

-and you just smile sleepily at him, watching him adjust his bulletproof vest. of course to fully get into könig mindset, he’d gear up before leaving. your neighbors always turned in early, so he wasn’t worried about them seeing some scary soldier exiting your house, leaving them to wonder if that guy was friends with your tall as a tree, yet gentle husband. you’d already changed out of your favorite (and könig’s too) red dress, but you still hadn’t removed your makeup, opting to fuss over könig’s packing instead.

just as he taught you about bettering your sleep cycle, you taught him of accepting commodities and being cared for. now his pack has his usual stuff, plus on the go hygiene products, non perishable snacks (he has a weakness for these dark chocolate granola bars), and little mementos that are his guiding light through these trying missions. <3

now, huddled together at the doorway, you can’t help but tug him down by his vest for a kiss, pressing your lips over his through his mask. he makes a little noise of surprise, having been cut off mid safety rant, but he instead lifts his mask to kiss you “i’ll always come back to you, even if i have to crawl” (never “bye”) properly. the space between you warms as you kiss each other with all the love you have, damn near creating your own dimension where just the two of you exist. you know it only makes it harder for him to leave though, so you act as the rock, gently pulling back before wiping your lipgloss from his lips. “you’re gonna be late, love”, you whisper, discretely blinking away a tear when he glances at the clock on the entry table. “right as ever, königin”, he smiles as he straightens his mask picking up his duffel and helmet in one hand.

“redo of our date night?”, he asks, turning the door knob with his free hand and stepping over the threshold. you cross your arms over your chest, tugging your makeshift robe closed as the night chill from the open door sweeps in. “next weekend”, you declare confidently, full faith in your husband, secure in the knowledge that he’ll always make it back to you. the rest of his departure goes by in a blur, from the kiss he blows you before climbing in his car, to you locking the door after waving til his car turned the corner. a successful send off, you sigh as you head to shower and do your skincare before passing out for the night.

unfortunately, there was one little detail you both forgot…

könig strides into the base, heading straight to his office to grab some files needed for the mission briefing. he’d meant to get those documents signed and sent up the next rung of the kortac ladder, but no one had anticipated the turn of events that kickstarted this urgent mission. other soldiers were coming and going through the halls, some glancing (no one dared stare) at him in awe… or fear. either worked, in his opinion. könig couldn’t help but let it stroke his ego. he remembered how it felt to be a fresh faced rookie, only hoping to someday become one of the higher ups. he chuckled quietly to himself, even slowing his purposeful pace a little to give the newbies a nice colonel könig sighting.

when you got it, you got it, no?

he sauntered to his office, noting horangi was waiting outside his door. he also noted the way his friend’s eyebrows shot up in surprise as he took in his appearance. könig returned horangi’s strange look with a confused look himself. he’d checked he got everything right before leaving your house. his vest, the gear strapped to his vest, his mask, he even made sure to put his helmet on before entering the base… so why was horangi staring at him like he’d sprouted wings?

“you old dog!”, horangi gave könig an easy push on his shoulder. “you got a girl and you didn’t tell me?”

what???

könig had done all he could to keep you safe and untarnished by his work… obviously you knew what he did, but he’d never delve into details, and he sure as hell didn’t tell anyone at work about you. what purpose would they have knowing? he didn’t need them trying to cajole you into coming to stay here just to have könig be available on base full time! his engel didn’t have to step a single foot in this place. how on earth did horangi find out?

kortac did have their own…creative…ways to find out information, and it would be much easier looking into one of your own compared to an enemy. könig was racking his brain for any instance where he might have noticed surveillance being run on him, or any of his non agency issued electronics acting odd from possible hacking. the mailman had been acting a little shifty… (no, he hadn’t) and his personal phone had been displaying that odd pop up every time he opened his photos app! (again, false alarm. it was a “storage full notice”. he’d filled up his storage with pictures of you and your adventures together.)

horangi, meanwhile, crossed his arms, thinking könig was trying to think up a convincing lie against the obvious evidence.

aha! what if horangi was just making a wild guess, trying to catch könig off guard? könig wasn’t a fool. he’d been in the business long enough to not fall for such a elementary level interrogation technique. he just had to keep his cool. horangi definitely had nothing on him. könig allowed himself a casual, light scoff before setting his duffel on the floor and facing his office door, wanting horangi’s weak interrogation over with already. “where is this coming from? now’s not the time for jokes”, he huffed dismissively.

“you can’t be serious. you must have a girl…unless you’re going for a ‘confuse the enemy’ method now?”

okay, now könig was annoyed, which is saying a lot, because horangi was the one colleague he most liked. “cut to the chase, kim” könig fished his keys out from his duffel, flicking through them to find the one to his office

“könig, there’s a glittery lip print on your mask… right where your mouth would be”

shit

the only sound in the hall was könig’s keys clinking as he dropped them in shock.

how could he forget you’d kissed him through his mask, while you were still wearing your cursed (it was actually quite lovely, it tastes like strawberries to könig, he’s just mortified right now) shimmering lipgloss?

that’s why all the soldiers he passed in the hall looked at him funny. it wasn’t awe, it was confusion! basically all of kortac witnessed him making a fool of himself! of course könig is losing his mind, horangi’s cackling laugh serving as the background music, but rest assured, könig’s reputation is safe. those five (5, fünf, cinco) soldiers he passed didn’t get a long enough look as to notice the glittering spot on his mask. only horangi was brave enough-and dare i say lucky enough- to actually look at the revered and feared colonel. könig’s thanking all the forces of the universe when he remembers he always packs backup masks.

for what’s it’s worth, your husband sure learned his lesson. that’s how the only restriction regarding your kisses came to be

new rule: no kissing over the mask

. . . . . . . . . . . .

sorry, i just love making könig be silly 🫶🏼

You show up for your first day at Copyright-Free Magic School. As you're going through orientation, you're informed that all new students get a school-assigned familiar that they are responsible for housing and maintaining. The staff member assures you that your assigned familiar is appropriately chosen and reflects you in some way.

Spin this to find out yours. (Remember, you are responsible for maintaining this familiar in your dorm room.)

cat dad könig inspo video <3

It's my 1 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

resisting the urge to boop everyone i see

i know there’s more than this out there but it really is incredible that people will look at a fictional character someone else wrote and collectively say “I will write you a hundred happy endings.”