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summertime sizzle smut-fest

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The most noble family in all of Westeros, most respected and revered by their people, would have to be considered the Starks. If one were to ever learn politics, they must always serve under a Stark at least once in their lifetime. What made their teachings great was the fact that they were noble, kind hearted, and honest to a fault. However, it wasn’t what they taught that one could learn from, it was what they didn’t teach. 

Margaery had learn from her grandmother early on that Starks may be the greatest family to serve and learn from in politics but their very actions were why they’d always make a mistake. Mistakes that they’d very well pay for in blood as exemplified by their patriarch, Ned Stark.

Now the title of Warden of the North is being campaigned by their eldest daughter, Sansa Stark, while her older brothers gave up local politics for army campaigns overseas. To say that Margaery has learned a lot is an understatement. What she’s learned, could be the very undoing of another Stark.

Sansa holds herself like a lady. She stands up straight and attentive, listening carefully until the end of every sentence, smiles politely at every single comment, and speaks with stunning wit and knowledge. She’s careful, sometimes intense with the way she keeps what she knows so close to herself. It’s a means of control because after all knowledge is power. Sansa has a vast amount of knowledge that people clearly don’t think her to have.

Outside of politics, Sansa likes to exercise herself as more than a lady. She likes to exercise her control over things.

More importantly, her control over Margaery.

It’s late in the evening and the majority of the team has been dismissed. Tomorrow is a long day of campaigning for the Mormont’s favor and everyone needs their rest knowing that Lyanna is going to give them more trouble than they want to deal with.

Margaery watches Jeyne Poole say her goodbyes to Sansa through the open door of her office. Jeyne places a gentle kiss on Sansa’s cheek before hugging her, Sansa smiles affectionately as she brings her hand up to Jeyne’s arm around her neck. The display sends something coiling inside of Margaery, a jealous green monster that she’s spent months exercising control over.

“Don’t work too hard, Maggie!” Jeyne says as she leaves the office.

Margaery rolls her eyes because Jeyne knows how much she hates that nickname. “Goodnight, Jeyne,” she still says politely as she finishes up drafts for their operations team.

A moment of silence passes and Margaery can see Sansa reading through some reports of the day. Margaery diligently works until she’s called upon. She waits a painfully long time for Sansa to call on her despite her rationality telling her otherwise. Her grandmother’s always taught her to exercise assertion and power of her own. In these cases, while she’s far away from her purview, Margaery feels just as comfortable exercising compliance.

“Margaery, come into my office,” Sansa says closing the last file for the day and sits back in her chair, unbuttoning the top three buttons of her blouse.

Margaery nods and immediately makes her way to Sansa’s office. Long hours in the office always came to this and Margaery’s body thrummed with excitement consistently. She could feel the heat pooling between her legs as she stares at Sansa’s professional demeanor.

“Is there something you needed?” Margaery asks out of reflex.

“Shut the door,” Sansa orders.

Margaery shuts the door behind her before staring patiently for Sansa to continue. Her professional demeanor she carries throughout the day finally crumbles with a small curl of her lips.

Sansa pushes herself to stand up slowly from her chair, back straightening with purpose before walking towards Margaery. Even when she walks, there’s an indescribable elegance that Margaery has yet to master. Or maybe she never will because Sansa steps towards her like a predator, the northern direwolf spirit lives within all the Starks Margaery’s met, blue eyes intensely eyeing her up and down, biting her lip like she’s hungry.

“Do you know what I want?” Sansa says lowly as she stands right before Margaery.

Margaery gasps at the proximity. She always does because Sansa’s aura around her is always empowering. It’s hard to believe that Sansa was this meek young woman when they’d first met in university. She stands taller that Margaery in more ways than one. She bites her lip when Sansa’s cool hand comes up to her neck, lifting her face to meet her gaze. “I know.”

“What?” Sansa lowly demands.

“I know what you want, mistress,” Margaery shudders as Sansa’s nails dig into her neck. The wetness pools between her legs.

“Then why aren’t you already doing it?”

Margaery nods obediently as her hand comes up to peel off her blazer. Sansa steps back and leans against her desk as Margaery strips for her. She knows that Sansa isn’t looking for a show, so she makes herself efficient, pulling her sleeveless top over her head and unzipping her skirt to let it pool at her ankles.

Margaery pops off her bra and slides her damp underwear down her legs, feeling the wetness lick her thighs as she does it. Finally, she kicks off her heels, sinking four inches shorter.

Sansa licks her lips, holding out her hand for Margaery to walk towards her. The minute Margaery enters her space, she’s pulled flush against Sansa’s body, her naked body rubbing against the rough fabric. Sansa muffles her moans with a deep, hungry kiss. Her hands run up and down Margaery’s hot body, groping every inch of skin as they keep kissing.

It doesn’t take Margaery long to keen against Sansa’s hands, she grips the lapels of Sansa’s suit jacket tightly. Her thighs clamping together to relieve the obvious arousal between her legs.

Sansa’s hand finds its way between Margaery’s leg though, purposefully seeking her heat. Margaery moans wantonly as she parts her legs for Sansa’s fingers.

“You’re absolutely drenched, Margaery,” Sansa breathes out hotly between them. She smiles before gently biting Margaery’s lip. “Have you been wet for me all day?” Her fingers start to dance between her drenched folds.

Margaery lets out a strangled mewl as her hips move against Sansa’s fingers. “Yes, mistress, I’ve been thinking about you fucking me all day,” she admits unabashedly, knowing full well how much Sansa likes it.

“How did you imagine me fucking you?” Sansa growls as she kisses down the column of her neck.

Margaery’s hand reaches up to card through Sansa’s red locks, encouraging her to keep kissing. Her knees buckle as Sansa’s fingers continuing to toy with her folds and dipping in and out of her entrance. “Me in your chair,” she gasps out, “you--on your knees eating me out.”

Sansa nips at the juncture of Margaery’s neck. “On my knees?” she grunts, pushing two fingers inside Margaery without warning.

Margaery moans loudly at the intrusion, her walls already clenching around Sansa’s fingers.

Sansa bites at Margaery’s shoulder until she almost breaks skin. “Do not come,” she orders sharply.

Margaery nods quickly, willing her body to comply with the order. Her mind speaks faster though. “I want to come,” she whines. “Please.”

Sansa smiles into her shoulder before kissing it. “No. You come when I tell you to come.” She pumps her fingers in and out of Margaery’s pussy torturously.

The room fills with sounds of Margaery pants and Sansa’s fingers slickly moving in and out of her. The sound makes Margaery wetter than before, she can feel it sliding down her thighs. She should have more propriety, maybe feel a bit embarrassed, but Sansa wouldn’t care. Sansa just wants to fuck Margaery tired like she always does.

“Do you understand me?” Sansa snaps, suddenly pulling her fingers out.

Margaery whines at the loss. She wants to be full of Sansa again as she moves her hips closer to the taller woman. “Yes, mistress, yes. Please let me come,” she begs quickly. If her family were to see her now, they’d be ashamed.

Sansa smirks at Margaery’s begging. She rewards her with a quick slap against her clit that has Margaery gasping loudly before melting into a moan. “Not yet,” Sansa teases as her hands fall onto Margaery’s waist. She guides Margaery to sit on her desk.

Margaery hesitates, painfully aware of how her essence is slick between her legs and will very well drip onto the oak wood. She slowly sits on Sansa’s desk.

“To my understanding, you want me to eat you out,” Sansa reminds. Her voice sounds like an offer. She pulls off her suit jacket and tosses it onto the chair before she unbuttons her shirt to reveal her pale unblemished skin.

“Mm hmm.” Margaery nods quickly.

“I suppose, it’s the least I can do for your service,” Sansa thinks aloud. She throws her blouse aside before kneeling down between Margaery’s legs.

Margaery sits up, hands propped behind her to hold herself up as she watches Sansa kneel between her legs. She holds her breath as Sansa pushes her thighs apart and moves closer to her core.

Sansa looks up at Margaery with mirth in her shining blue eyes, pupils blown with desire, and she takes a broad swipe up to clit. She sucks on it without breaking eye contact with Margaery.

Margaery cries out, grasping at Sansa’s hair, pushing her to continue. She can feel the orgasm creeping out of her body. Every nerve ending is standing at attention to how close she is.

Sansa draws her head back against Margaery’s guiding hand. “You do not get to come until I tell you,” she reminds. “If you do, I’ll punish you.”

Margaery’s body thrums in opposition. She needs to come. If she doesn’t she will die. “I won’t come, mistress. Not until you tell me.”

Sansa smirks again before lapping at Margaery’s juices. This is what Margaery thinks about on a daily basis. How Sansa can control her, yet give her anything she wants. All Margaery has to do is work for it a little bit more, but Sansa is always willing to listen, to offer, and to give to Margaery.

Margaery shudders violently as Sansa’s teeth grazes her labia before moving against her lips. Her velvety tongue is a welcome sensation that has Margaery dripping even more. Without realizing it, Sansa dips two fingers inside of her as she sucks on her engorged clit. Margaery’s hand grasps at the red locks hard and she pushes her hips towards Sansa’s face.

Sansa pushes back, thrusting her fingers inside Margaery’s tight channel and sucks harder on her clit. Margaery can feel her whole body start to shake, she feels the orgasm coming.

“S-sans-a, please.” Margaery slips. She knows she’s not allowed to say Sansa’s name when they’re fucking. Sansa is her mistress in these cases, controlling her body, obeying her rules. It’s the contract they’ve entered so that they can remain professional.

Sansa doesn’t stop. She pumps faster into Margaery’s tightening walls and licks around her fingers for Margaery’s juices. “Don’t you dare come,” she growls.

Margaery throws her head back as her hips hump at Sansa’s fingers. “Please, please, please, let me come,” she mindlessly begs. Her eyes roll back as the pleasure builds and builds inside of her. Sansa doesn’t make it easier as she mercilessly pounds into Margaery. The sounds of her fingers pumping into her wetness grows louder with each passing second. “Sansa, please.”

Sansa moans against Margaery’s clit and curls her fingers. Margaery doesn’t have a chance of holding on because the orgasm comes hard and fast. She clutches Sansa’s head for dear life as she screams and the juices copiously pour out of her. Margaery slams her eyes shut so hard that she swear she’s blind. But Sansa licks her up enthusiastically as she slows her fingers for Margaery to ride her orgasm out.

Margaery pants hard, trying to catch her breath. All the while, Sansa stands up between her legs, patiently waiting for her to catch her breath. She doesn’t make an effort to pull out her fingers. Margaery doesn’t shift, knowing that Sansa’s fingers still fill her while her walls are tight.

“You broke two of my rules,” Sansa says aloud.

Margaery gasps because despite Sansa’s cold voice, her eyes shine brightly with a sense of pride. She bites her lip, trying to be a bit more apologetic. “I’m sorry, mistress.”

Sansa leans in, cupping Margaery’s cheek once again to look her in the eyes. “I’m going to have to punish you,” she says before kissing Margaery soundly. She smiles into the kiss and her fingers begin to move again.

Margaery shivers. She throws her arms around Sansa to pull her in close. She’s sure that Sansa is falling in love with her as much as she’s falling in love with Sansa. And that is both of their undoing if they’re not careful.

Chapter Text

Her body is hot as if she’d walk through sin, tingling at the licking flames and burning from the inside out. It’s not pain that she vocalizes, but pleasure as she’s filled. She can’t tell north from south anymore between the Dornish wine that courses through her veins and endorphins that release from her brain.

“Fuck, fuck, Margaery,” Sansa gasps out gripping the sheets underneath her as Margaery thrusts inside of her. Margaery grunts with her thrust, pounding deeper inside of her until Sansa squeals the minute it hits her g-spot. “Don’t stop! Don’t stop!”

Margaery pushes back her hair to get a better look at Sansa thrashing underneath her. Their hips bumping harshly against one another as she continues to thrust into Sansa. It’s a vision to behold to see Sansa’s red hair fanned across her pillows and naked body marked with hickeys. Her hands hold Sansa’s hips down, forcing them into her bed as she changes the pace.

Sansa arches off the bed at the sudden change. Margaery pulls out the dildo head just enough for the tip to rest at her entrance and Sansa cries at the loss. “Please--” her begging is cut off when Margaery thrusts deeply inside of her again, stretching her fluttering walls. She cries out Margaery’s name.

Margaery breathes heavily as she drops onto her elbows on either side of Sansa. She kisses whatever skin she reaches and continues to thrust purposefully and deeply into Sansa. Sansa’s hands come up to cup her breasts and toy with her nipples generously that Margaery shakes at her own impending orgasm.

“I’m close,” Sansa rasps out as a hand tangles itself in Margaery’s chestnut locks. “Kiss me.”

Margaery kisses her quickly. It’s messy and wet but they moan all the same. The dildo presses back against her clit as she continues to thrust into Sansa. Sansa can tell, she’s sure of it, by the way her hips pushes back against Margaery’s thrust.

“Gods, I love you,” Margaery groans out as she pushes aside Sansa’s matted hair. “I love you, Sansa.

At her words, Sansa gets pushed over the edge quickly, falling into weightlessness as her walls clamp around the dildo, pulling it into her as she holds onto Margaery tightly. Margaery seizes in her arms, tumbling into her own orgasm quickly. For a brief moment, she thinks they’ve both passed out. Sansa tries to catch her breath with a face full of Margaery’s hair.

Her chest rumbles with a low laugh that rouses Margaery to shift her weight. She moans as Margaery slips out of her, rolling beside her. Sansa hears the straps being undone and after a moment there’s a thud on the ground.

Margaery lies beside her, staring up at the ceiling, trying to catch her breath. “You, love, are trying to wear me out on purpose.”

Sansa giggles as she snuggles up against Margaery. She throws an arm and leg across Margaery’s body before tucking herself into Margaery’s neck. Despite being almost six full inches taller than Margaery, Sansa loves the way Margaery holds onto her after they have sex. “Don’t make yourself sound so old,” she mumbles as she runs her nails up and down Margaery’s side unconsciously.

There are goosebumps across Margaery’s body at Sansa’s touch. Margaery looks at her girlfriend tucked against her. “I’m not old,” she argues with a pout.

Sansa smiles at Margaery cheekily. “I suppose you’re still active in certain ways.”

“You’re such a little shit,” Margaery throws back as she shifts higher up the bed, stacking her pillows so she could sit up a bit. She reaches to her nightstand where the open bottle of wine still sits and looks around for the glasses, but they’re empty and shattered on the ground. Margaery ignores it before taking a swig out of the bottle.

Sansa follows, tugging the strewn comforter up their bodies. She places her pillow right next to Margaery’s before snuggling next to her. “Can you hand me a lemon cake?” Sansa asks despite leaning across Margaery. Her long arms are well within reach.

Margaery reaches for the half eaten plate and settles it on her lap for Sansa to take before reaching through the tin wrappers to find another piece of chocolate for herself. They both bite in with a sated sigh.

There’s a small grumble from Sansa’s stomach that makes her blush.

Margaery turns her attention to Sansa with an affectionate smile. “You’re so cute after we fuck,” she deadpans crudely. Just to rile Sansa up.

Sansa scoffs as she shoves the lemon cake into her mouth. The blush is evident in the way she feels. Margaery offers her the wine and she takes it, sipping it as she thinks about what Margaery said.

Margaery has always been hard to read from the day Sansa met her at their family party. She was never sure that Margaery’s intentions were when she introduced herself to Sansa. At first Sansa thinks it’s a ploy to get close to her father for some political gain but as time grew, it was very apparent that Margaery’s intentions weren’t solely professional. It was highly sexual, that was very very apparent, and it made Sansa wetter than any one of her exes could ever make her to know that a woman like Margaery would want her.

Sansa has always admired Margaery in more ways than one. When they started sleeping together, secretly of course, her father would kill Margaery if he knew...maybe not kill but highly disapprove because Margaery was practically Robb’s age (5 years wasn’t much of a difference, but her father was always very protective of her), Sansa realized how much she was enamored by Margaery. In the way she dressed, the way she talked, the way she moved. It moved beyond admiration to adoration.

It was startling to her at first to realize she was starting to develop feelings for Margaery. Margaery had been very good at hiding hers despite making it very clear how much she wanted Sansa’s body, she never really let on how much she felt for Sansa.

“You said I love you,” Sansa points out quietly as she takes a small bite into the lemon cake.

Margaery’s eyes widen imperceptibly as she looks at Sansa. She forces herself to look impassive, but Sansa can tell by the way she swallows, that she’s very much alarmed. They’ve spent more than enough time together to read each other’s body language.

“Sansa…” Margaery begins almost apologetically.

“Do you mean it?” Sansa goes on carefully. She feels her heart pound in anticipation.

Margaery reaches for the wine bottle and takes a slow sip. “I do,” she answers honestly for what feels like the first time in their ‘relationship.’ “I understand if you don’t feel the same.”

Sansa blanches very briefly to how vulnerable Margaery sounds. To think that Sansa wouldn’t feel the same seems like the most idiotic thing Margaery could say. “Why wouldn’t I feel the same?” she asks quickly, staring at Margaery intently. She slaps Margaery hard on the shoulder.

Margaery’s eyes widen at the sudden slap, curling away from Sansa with her wine bottle. “What was that for?”

“Because!” Sansa slaps her again, very annoyed. “How could you be so stupid?”

Hey!” Margaery looks offended at Sansa’s words.

Sansa reaches for her pillow and hits Margaery in the face with it. Margaery yelps this time and the plate of lemon cakes clatters onto the ground. Sansa doesn’t care though. “How can you not tell that I love you too?!” Sansa says in frustration as she lands another hit on Margaery’s lap.

Margaery brushes her mussed hair aside to stare at Sansa in awe. “You love me?” Margaery asks in shock.

Sansa rolls her eyes. “Yes, I do. It was very hard not to fall in love with you,” Sansa argues shyly.

Margaery laughs at this as she takes another sip of her wine before handing the bottle to Sansa. “It was very hard not to fall in love with you too.”

Chapter Text

Sansa has never been curious by nature because she’s always known what she wanted in her life. For the longest time, she wanted her life to be written like a love story where a prince would come on his shining white horse save her from the mundanity of her life. She wanted to be a good wife to him and just be in love.

Everything changed when she turned 18 and realized that maybe a prince wasn’t good for her. That maybe instead of a prince, she’d be treated right by a princess.

More presently, it’s because she met Margaery Tyrell. The only daughter of Mace and Alerie Tyrell was the girl. When Margaery walked into the room, all eyes turned to her even though she tried to ease herself into the room. She was kind and friendly, polite and endearing. It was very hard not to like Margaery.

Sansa had balked at Margaery the first time they’d met at the Baratheon New Years party. Just by the way her gorgeous hair was pulled back and she stood elegantly like royalty. Everyone knew Margaery and instantly flocked to her, but Margaery had approached Sansa first. She caught Sansa snacking away at lemon cakes and chatted her up.

Since then, Margaery’s become a fixture in Sansa’s life seamlessly. Because they found each other on Facebook, catching up with random messages throughout the week while they were away at University and running into each other during family gatherings during holiday breaks.

However, Sansa was starting to feel confused by Margaery’s presence. Something about Margaery made Sansa think of girls differently. Something deep inside of her desired more than just friendly attention from Margaery. Something twisted inside of her whenever Margaery mentioned someone she’d met at a party. When they’d talk late into the night, Margaery’s voice husky from exhaustion after studying, the space between Sansa’s legs would tingle at night. She could imagine the hot air from Margaery’s breath against her as she spoke.

The thoughts become too real when the Tyrell family finally makes it to the Baratheon’s cabin just after dinner. Mace and Alerie greeting everyone boisterously, with their four children behind them. Olenna opting to stay home because she hates the cold.

Sansa is at the door buzzing with excitement to see Margaery.

Margaery is the last to walk in, under three duffles, clearly her older brothers’ doing. She drops the bags unceremoniously on the ground with a grunt. “You’re all fuckers,” she hisses out.

Alerie tuts at her daughter. “Margaery!” she chides with a stern look on her face.

Margaery’s face is red, mostly from the cold. She looks adorable under her green knit hat caked with a thin layer of snow. “I’m sorry, mother,” she immediately says as she pulls off her hat before throwing it at Loras. “All of your sons are being horrid.”

Alerie smiles at her daughter affectionately before turning to her sons. “Have I not taught you any manners?”

Loras speaks up first. “She lost the bet. An honor is an honor no matter if she’s a woman or man.”

Margaery glares at him before sticking her tongue out at him. At this point she notices Sansa standing beside her timidly and patiently. She reaches out her arms to pull Sansa into a warm hug.

Sansa’s heart jumps at the way Margaery tucks herself under her chin and wraps her arms around her waist. She can feel Margaery’s hot breath against her and she tries to stop her heart from racing for fear Margaery can hear it.

“Gods, you’re so nice to hug,” Margaery melts into Sansa just a bit more. Sansa feels dizzy in Margaery’s arms because she can smell her and feel her so much closer now.

They spend the rest of the evening with their families, playing board games, eating desserts, and catching up with everyone.

Eventually, Sansa returns to her room with her body buzzing from Margaery’s presence. She’s ecstatic with her friend being there but there’s something that she can’t shake. It’s that tingling throughout her body whenever Margaery touches her. It’s that warmth through her body when Margaery looks at her. It’s that shiver down her spine whenever Margaery whispers into her ear.

By the time she gets back to her room, Sansa realizes that there’s been a growing pool of heat between her legs. Her mind keeps bringing her back to thoughts of Margaery.

Is it Margaery? Or is it more than that?

Sansa feels the frustration grow in more ways than one. You know what would solve this? Research.

There’s no chance in hell she’s going to ask Margaery about this. God. No.

Porn isn’t any better. It’s actually mortifying to Sansa but she has to know that why she feels the way she does. Is it women or is it Margaery?

Sansa jumps into her bed, grateful that there are enough rooms to spare for at least four families. She pulls out her laptop and remembers to go in cognito before googling porn. More specifically, lesbian porn.

It doesn’t take her long to find something. To be honest, she doesn’t know what she’s looking for but through her blushes as she sees thumbnails of naked women doing stuff to each other. She bites the bullet and clicks on a highly rated one.

It starts out cheesy of course. Poor acting and dialogue (it offends Sansa as a writer) take place over five minutes until it becomes blatantly obvious that it’s going to lead to sex. Sansa mentally slaps herself, it’s porn of course it’s going to lead to sex. It just starts so quickly.

One minute the two girls are giggling and kissing and then suddenly, clothes are being shed suddenly. Sansa gasps because she can see their naked bodies. There’s a brunette that Sansa’s attention is on. Her small lithe body underneath the dark haired girl’s thin body. The kisses are noisy and wet, but Sansa can’t look away because they start to moan like they’re really into it.

Sansa holds her breath, feeling her body warm as she keeps watching. The heat between her legs starts to pool as the two women’s bodies start grinding into each other. She balances the laptop on her lap as she brings her thighs together.

As the tall dark haired girl pushes the other girl onto the couch firmly, Sansa can’t help but be reminded of Margaery once again. The girl on the bottom, her profile looks so similar that Sansa swallows hard as the wetness between her legs grows. She slips her hand underneath the band of her sweats.

Just as her hand reaches her curls, the door swings open with a, “Sansa!”

Sansa yells as she slams her laptop shut. “Seven hells!” she looks over to the door to see Margaery in her long tee shirt clutching her stomach laughing hard. “Margaery!”

Margaery shuts the door behind her and walks over to Sansa’s bed. She doesn’t wait for an invitation as she throws herself next to Sansa on the bed. “So,” she begins with a bright smile on her face, “what are you up to?”

“I was just about sleep,” Sansa lies thickly. She’s already feeling hot enough, but with Margaery next to her, she’s only getting hotter. “What are you doing here?”

Margaery purses her lips at Sansa. “I haven’t seen you in months. I missed you and wanted to hang out,” she says as she places her head on Sansa’s shoulder playfully.

“How could you miss me when we text everyday?”

Margaery picks up her head to pout at Sansa. “You sound like my brothers.”

“Really?”

“Yah, that was their stupid bet,” Margaery grumbles. “Said I wouldn’t be able to not text you the whole ride up, which obviously I lost and had to carry all their bags in.”

“Ahh, that explains it.” Sansa glances at Margaery in the corner of her eyes. She tries her best to calm herself down. She tries to relax but she’s hot and horny underneath the sheets and Margaery’s presence doesn’t help it one bit.

Margaery looks at Sansa curiously. “Are you okay? You’re acting really strange,” she points out before glancing at her laptop. “What were you doing?”

Sansa’s eyes widen as Margaery reaches across her for the laptop. Sansa quickly snatches her laptop away from Margaery and leans off the bed to throw it on the small chair away from them. “Nothing!” she yelps quickly. “I wasn’t doing anything.”

Margaery giggles, before climbing across Sansa. “Oh come on, it can’t be that bad.”

“No!” Sansa yells in distress as she grabs Margaery by her waist to stop her.

“Sansa!” Margaery squeals as Sansa practically throws her back onto the bed with surprising strength.

Sansa is surprised at herself for being able to pull that off. She huffs, pushing her hair aside. “I wasn’t doing anything,” she answers, her heart racing faster than ever.

Margaery stares at Sansa skeptically. She takes a breath, her shoulders a bit dropped, before she starts to move off the bed. “Well if you want to be that way…”

Sansa curses at herself. “Marg, come on, wait,” she says quickly, not wanting to offend Margaery. “It’s just a bit embarrassing,” she admits quickly.

Margaery turns to stare at Sansa. Sansa rolls her eyes before patting the space next to her for Margaery to join. “So what was it then? I’m sure you’re just being dramatic,” she throws out casually.

Sansa’s eyes widen in offense. “Excuse me, I am not dramatic.”

Margaery hums. “Do you want me to go for your laptop again?”

“No!” Sansa blushes. She bites the inside of her cheek as Margaery laughs. “Stop laughing or I won’t tell you.”

God this is so weird. Margaery nods, understanding. She stops laughing but there’s still a bright smile on her face. She stares at Sansa patiently to continue.

Sansa bites her lip as she looks at the vague space between them. There’s no tactful way to put this. “I was...watching porn,” she mumbles under her breath.

“Porn?” Margaery parrots. There’s shock in her voice but not in the way Sansa thinks as she goes on. “What kind of porn?”

Sansa’s jaw drops. “What is it normal for you to watch porn or something?”

Margaery nods like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ve got 3 brothers, if I didn’t hear about porn at least once a month, I’d think they were asexual. Besides, sexuality is something that should be explored, not stigmatized. Don’t be ashamed of watching porn, I do it all the time.”

Sansa balks. “All the time?”

Margaery rolls her eyes. “A healthy level of porn is good, especially when I get frustrated. It help gets me off when I don’t have to do all of the imagination.”

Sansa blushes instantly. “Margaery!” she exclaims as if that would make Margaery embarrassed. But honestly, it doesn’t make her libido any calmer that Margaery is so casual about this. In fact, it makes it worse because she can imagine Margaery doing what she just did. “Do you…”

“Do I what?”

“Do you really get off to it?” Sansa meekly asks.

Margaery shrugs. “Only the good ones. Unfortunately most of the porn industry is male dominated so finding porn that isn’t geared towards a male audience is a bit more difficult. On top of that finding lesbian porn that isn’t made by men is even more difficult. Well...not difficult but just costly. I’m in university, I can’t afford to blow my allowance on porn subscriptions. That would be irresponsible.”

Sansa’s eyes widen at Margaery’s words. She’s so used to Margaery rambling, but her mind stops at. “You watch lesbian porn?”

Margaery looks at Sansa, completely confused. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I didn’t know you were into that?”

Margaery laughs at this and Sansa feels like she’s missed something completely. “Of course, I am silly.” Sansa tilts her head in confusion. “I’m bisexual,” she informs casually. “I thought you knew.”

Sansa mouth falls into a shocked O before she shuts it quickly. “Oh my god! I did not know! You never mentioned it.”

Margaery raises her eyebrows. “We are on social media together, Sans. I make it pretty obvious.”

Sansa thinks back to all those times Margaery’s posted pictures of women and men in intimate quarters, or status about the struggle of finding a relationship where someone isn’t a cishet asshole, hell, there’s even a rainbow flag at the corner of Margaery’s profile picture. “Oh my god,” she breathes out.

Margaery really laughs at this. “You should see your face!” she pokes at Sansa’s cheeks playfully. “You really thought I was straight? Oh, normally I would feel so offended, but you’re too cute right now.”

Sansa pouts as she slaps away Margaery’s hand. “How come you never told me?”

Margaery shrugs. “I didn’t think I needed to. I thought you’d just see my profile and know.”

“Wait so all of those time you’ve flirted with me, was that serious?”

Margaery stares at Sansa, almost defensively. She inches away from Sansa. “I mean, I’ve been told I’m flirty but it’s not like I was preying on you or anything. I know that you’re straight.”

Sansa blinks before shaking her head. “I mean I didn’t think that you were preying on me, but I was just wondering.”

“Wondering what?” Margaery glances at the door and Sansa can tell Margaery’s vaguely about ready to run. “Because I’m bi that I hit on everything that moves?”

“No, no!” Sansa exclaims quickly. “Why are you sounding so defensive right now?”

“I’m not,” Margaery snaps back. “I just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable about the fact that I’m queer.”

“I’m not uncomfortable, Margaery,” Sansa bites back in frustration. “I’m just trying to process this new information because I feel confused.”

Margaery looks a bit hurt at this and stands up from the bed quickly. “I’m sorry for that,” she grumbles. “I’ll just go then.”

“Wait, what?” Sansa jumps out of bed after Margaery. “Why are you going?”

“I don’t want you to be confused about the fact that I’m bi,” Margaery says as she reaches the door.

Sansa places her hand on the door to stop Margaery from opening it. At times like this, Sansa likes that she has a few inches on Margaery to use to her advantage because Margaery stops instantly the minute Sansa’s hand falls on the door firmly. Margaery turns around in place to stare at Sansa.

“Margaery, you’re not letting me explain,” Sansa practically pleads. “I’m not confused about you being bisexual. I am a little surprised because I don’t know how I missed that. But I am confused because I’ve been having these...feelings for you.”

Margaery’s eyes widen. “What?” she asks, still trying to put up a front.

Sansa blushes because now she has to really explain what she was doing. “My thoughts are plagued by your lingering presence constantly. When we’re talking to each other late at night, I get...hot.” She bites her lip, wondering if that was a good choice. “You sound undeniably attractive by the way you go on about your studies, your classes, your work. Your voice just turns husky and rough that it sends tingles throughout my body.”

Margaery gasps at the distance between them. Sansa can see the way Margaery’s pupils dilate at their proximity and how quickly she breathes by the rise and fall of her chest. She feels exactly the same.

“I keep thinking about you and when I touch myself, I’ve been picturing you,” Sansa admits quietly between them. “It was startling and I was wondering if it was you or if it was women in general. So I was watching porn too.”

“Lesbian porn?” Margaery inquires carefully.

Sansa nods. “When you started talking about your sexuality. I really wasn’t confused about how to take it. I was just trying to process the possibility that maybe my attraction to you wasn’t unrequited.”

Margaery scoffs in disbelief. “I don’t make an effort for just anyone,” she admits casually to Sansa. “But I wanted to be respectful at least.”

Sansa bites her lip, just a bit harder than before. “Margaery,” she says as she boldly places her hands on the shorter girl’s waist. She feels hotter than just sharing the space with Margaery now that they’re touching. “I want to know what it feels like to be with you.”

Margaery clenches her jaw as her hand comes up on Sansa’s hands on her waist. “I don’t think this is a good idea,” she grits out. For a moment, Sansa thinks she’s mad. “I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

Sansa takes a breath in because Margaery’s right. They’ve had a great friendship, possibly Sansa’s favorite. “But we’re both attracted to each other. I feel like we dance around each other too much for us to be just friends, I see that now.”

Margaery looks like there’s a war inside of her as she lets Sansa’s words settle. Sansa feels her heart pounding inside of her as she takes in Margaery’s image. The furrow of her brow is very indicative of her concentration and it’s probably one of the most endearing things that Sansa enjoys staring at when they video chat. Now that Margaery’s in front of her, she just wants to soothe her worry.

Sansa ducks her head slowly to capture Margaery’s glossed lips, just wanting to taste them. Margaery gasps the minute their lips meet, but it doesn’t take long for her to start kissing back. It feels like instinct to her, sliding her lips against Sansa’s expertly. Sansa moans into the kiss, reaching up to Margaery’s chin to tilt her up slightly.

It feels like they’re kissing for hours before Sansa has to pull away for air.

Margaery looks at her, flustered and dark. “Sod it.” She throws her arms around Sansa’s shoulders to pull her down into another kiss. “I want you, Sansa,” she murmurs through their kisses. “If you want this, you need to tell me.”

Sansa whimpers into the kisses because Margaery’s voice is laden with sex. There’s a hunger at the back of her throat as she speaks. “I want you, Margaery. I want you to have sex with me.”

Margaery growls. It startles Sansa because Margaery kisses her harder, nipping at her bottom lip. “Tell me anything that you want.” Her hands slide underneath Sansa’s t-shirt, caressing her sides. Again, there are shivers up and down her spine.

“I don’t know,” Sansa whines as she slides her fingers through Margaery’s soft brown hair. “Touch me--ah--everywhere.”

Margaery turns them quickly and dances them towards the bed. They can’t stop kissing, they don’t want to stop.

Sansa feels the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed and she falls back onto it with a bounce. She crawls back, so she’s properly on the bed and Margaery crawls over her, smooth like a feline. The look on her face sends heat straight to Sansa’s core. She swallows thickly as Margaery straddles her lap.

Margaery settles herself on top of Sansa comfortably, pushing her red locks aside with both hands before kissing Sansa again. She rocks her hips and Sansa’s lets out a gasp.

Sansa can feel her walls clench around nothing as her panties become drenched with every second. The fact that Margaery is on top of her, grinding against her hips, makes her even wetter. She moans into their kisses, running her hands up and down Margaery’s lithe body. She was definitely thinking of Margaery when she was watching porn. She raises her hips to Margaery. “Fuck--” she curses. She never knew that grinding alone would have this effect on her.

Margaery smirks against her lips. Her hands come down from Sansa’s cheeks to cup her through her t-shirt.

Sansa’s moans and whimpers are swallowed by Margaery’s lips as she cups and massages her breasts firmly. Her thumb runs across her nipples and her whole body shakes. She’s scared she could come just from Margaery kissing her and playing with her breasts. She needs to know. “Margaery,” she gasps out, “I need to feel you inside.”

“But you’re so close,” Margaery rasps out as she starts kissing Sansa along her jawline. Her breath is hot against the shell of Sansa’s ear. “I can tell by the way you’re body is vibrating underneath mine.” She nips at Sansa’s earlobe before sucking at the space just below.

Sansa’s eyes roll back at the way her nerves react to Margaery. She grips Margaery’s waist firmly for her to keep grinding into her. Margaery’s hands slide down her to find the hem and she gently pushes up to expose Sansa’s pert breast to the cool cabin air. Her nipples grow impossibly hard.

Margaery continues to kiss down her neck, her clavicle, down to the valley of her breasts before taking one of her nipples into her mouth. Sansa lets out a loud moan as her hips jerk up to meet Margaery’s. Again, she smirks against Sansa’s hot skin. She sucks her hard before rolling her tongue over the hardened nipple, her hand still lavishing the other breast with attention.

When she starts to switch between the two, Sansa feels the tension between her legs grow even more. All Margaery is doing is grinding against her and playing with her tits. Margaery sucks on her particularly hard and suddenly Sansa slams her thighs together feels an intense wave wash over her body. Sansa let out another loud moan as Margaery continues her ministrations.

Her body grows extremely, embarrassingly hot, realizing that she just came.

Margaery picks up her head with a smirk on her lips as if she knew this was coming.

Sansa rolls her eyes. “Spare me the puns,” she mumbles, looking anywhere but Margaery. “I didn’t think that would happen.” She bites her lip.

Margaery comes up alongside to kiss her. “I’m not done with you yet,” Margaery says as her hand slips to Sansa’s waistband. “You wanted to know how I feel inside of you right?”

Sansa nods eagerly, feeling the ache between her legs. She gasps when Margaery’s fingers slide easily through her wetness. There’s a whimper that falls from her lips.

Margaery takes her hand out, much to her dismay, but does so that she can peel off Sansa’s pants. Sansa feels her body shiver again as her skin meets the cool air. She feels extremely exposed as Margaery settles between her legs, encouraging her knees apart to see her wetness. She’d seen some fingering when she was watching porn and she briefly wonders if Margaery will do the same.

Margaery’s fingers gather the copious wetness before Margaery brings it up to her lips. She licks off Sansa’s juices.

Sansa whimpers at the sight, never knowing how hot it’d look for Margaery to do that. Her aching walls clench around nothing.

Margaery’s finger slide through her folds, eliciting a groan from her. She teases Sansa’s entrance, watching as the juices squeeze out onto the sheets. Sansa’s dying to have her fingers inside.

Sansa breathes heavily, anticipating Margaery’s fingers to enter her. She wants it so desperately as her body vibrates. “Margaery, I want to know how you feel inside of me,” she whimpers in agony. “I need you.” She shifts her hips to encourage Margaery.

Margaery smirks at her before two fingers press against her entrance. “Tell me if you want me to stop okay?”

Sansa nods, her hand is around Margaery’s wrist, pushing her to keep going.

Margaery pushes two fingers inside Sansa with ease. Sansa groans at how Margaery’s fingers feel inside of her. Margaery moans inwardly, enjoying the way Sansa’s tight walls envelope her fingers. She moves her fingers in and out of Sansa slowly.

Sansa feels her whole body shake at this point. Her instinct takes over and her hips starting moving in tandem with Margaery’s fingers. The desire to feel her deeper, fully, and just more. She wants more. Margaery expertly pumps her fingers in and out of her, spreading her fingers at the right moment to brush against her g-spot. She gasp as Margaery finds her spot.

Suddenly, there’s a knock.

Sansa instantly panics as she turns to the door. Margaery freezes as well.

Sansa?” Ned Stark’s concerned voice comes through the door.

“Dad?” Sansa responds as calmly as she can. She looks at Margaery with a terrified look on her face.

“Are you alright?” he asks. “I heard you fussing. Are you having a nightmare?”

At the way, Ned doesn’t make an effort to open the door, Margaery takes this as an opportunity.

“I’m okay, now!” Sansa gasps as Margaery’s fingers started to move faster inside of her. She tries to suppress the groan, but Margaery is thrusting hard into her.

“Are you sure? Do you want me to come in?”

No!” Sansa yells back in fear. She hopes beyond hope that he can’t hear the way Margaery’s fingers are slapping against her skin. The wetness makes it sound even more erotic to her. She feels mortified at the thought of her father coming into the room, baring herself to Margaery Tyrell like this. “I’m fine. I’m just--ah--really tired.” She’s so close, she can feel her walls fluttering around Margaery’s relentless fingers. Her mouth drops open.

“Okay if you say so, I’ll see you in the morning,” Ned responds. They listen as Ned’s footsteps recede.

Margaery’s fingers pound into her and she feels the tension at the pit of her stomach grow.

“Margaery,” she gasps out, rolling her hips against Margaery’s forceful fingers. “Margaery. Margaery. Margaery. Margaery.

Margaery comes up to kiss Sansa’s gasps. “You need to be quiet. Do you want to get caught?” she asks hotly. Her thumb rubs at her clit hard and her other hand cups her breast again as she continues to pound into Sansa.

“I can’t---I didn’t realize--” Sansa’s sentence are broken. She can barely focus on anything but Margaery’s fingers fucking her. She lets out a loud groan that is suddenly muffled by Margaery’s hand. She throws her head back as her heels bury themselves into the bed.

Another groan follows loudly that she’s scared Margaery’s hand can barely muffle it as she feels the orgasm push through her body. She swears she goes blind as her body seizes, walls clamping around Margaery’s fingers. She feels both tight and relieved at the same time, shaking as the orgasm works it’s way through her.

Sansa feels exhausted as she comes down from her orgasm. She whimpers as Margaery pulls out her fingers, feeling the noticeable loss. She tries to catch her breaths, eyes closed as she sinks into the bed, completely limp.

It’s not until she hears licking that she opens her eyes. Margaery has her two fingers inside of her mouth, smiling like the Cheshire cat as she sucks. Sansa feels her whole body flush.

“You taste so good,” Margaery croons as she leans down to kiss Sansa. Sansa moans softly at the taste of herself on Margaery’s tongue.

Sansa throws her arms around Margaery’s shoulders to pull her in. “I think we’ve ruined our friendship completely,” she says through ragged breaths.

“Mmm?”

Sansa nods. “I want us to keep doing this.”

Margaery stares at Sansa with that signature smirk on her lips. “Who said I was done with you?” Sansa shivers as Margaery kisses her again. She can’t imagine Margaery just being her friend after tonight.

Chapter Text

It’s funny how life actually turns out. While they were in university, Sansa always thought that Margaery would be going into politics. Nope, her girlfriend had hung up her political career to maintain the family business after Willas turned down the opportunity because he wanted to move to Dorne to be with Oberyn. When no one stepped up, Margaery did, much to her grandmother’s dismay.

However there was a fair trade because somehow Sansa had become extremely adept at politics and thrived in the field. When they’d actually started dating Olenna was elated.

It’s why on a beautiful Saturday, Margaery is in her work office going over budget reports for the boards and Sansa is dressed for horseback riding with Olenna.

“Are you sure you can’t come?” Sansa asks peering into her office.

Margaery doesn’t look up, too engrossed in the latest expense report. It’s not until she hears the clicking of Sansa’s boots against the hardwood floor that she looks up. She wasn’t disappointed as Sansa strides into her office. Her fiancee’s body has always been gorgeous, but in certain outfits especially. Sansa doesn’t go riding often, but when she does, she looks like a true stateswoman with her gorgeous long legs in her tan riding pants and dark brown leather boots and her simple crisp white dress shirt buttoned up to her neck with a navy blazer with white lining. Every piece of fabric hugs her skin and fits her form beautifully that Margaery completely forgets what she was doing.

“I’m regretting every moment of it,” Margaery says charmingly.

Sansa bites her lip shyly as she stands under Margaery’s gaze. Her hand grips her riding crop tightly, like she usually does to her hands when Margaery stares at her. Years into their relationship and the effect of Margaery’s stare hasn’t changed.

“You would be more charming if you were out with us,” Sansa tries not so subtly.

Margaery looks aside with a laugh. “If I were going with you two, it’d be a long day of grandmother asking me if I’ve regretted my decisions yet.” She stares at Sansa carefully. “Are you nervous to spend time with her? Olenna loves you more than she loves me.”

“It doesn’t feel right when you don’t spend time with Olenna,” Sansa admits as she places the riding crop on Margaery’s desk before rounding to her.

Margaery pushes back from her chair to face Sansa fully. “I've made my choice, love. It isn’t my fault that grandmother can't accept it.”

Sansa pouts as stands before Margaery, reaching for her hands which Margaery receives with ease. “You and Olenna were so close, though.”

Margaret rolls her eyes, very over this conversation. “Can we not talk about this anymore? I'll make it up to you later tonight,” she wiggles her eyebrows playfully at Sansa.

“That’s not the point,” Sansa grumbles with a blush.

Margaery hums, pulling Sansa to straddle her lap. Sansa eases onto Margaery, very much blushing, and Margaery adores it because there is absolutely no reason for Sansa to be so shy.

“When do you have to go?” Margaery asks, playing with Sansa’s long hair. Her hands come down to grip Sansa’s lithe waist firmly before coming forward to pop open the buttons of her blazer.

Sansa reaches for Margaery’s hands quickly. “Olenna will be here soon,” she warns.

“We've got plenty of time then, she’s always late,” Margaery mischievously says as she reaches for the dark leather belt around Sansa’s waist. “I want you to think of me when you ride today and how much I will ardently miss you.” She unbuckles the belt slowly before unzipping her trousers. “Bend over my desk, pet.”

Sansa shivers at the sudden name that they reserve mostly for their bedroom. Nowadays, they've become more adventurous fucking all over their house. Margaery just likes to dominate Sansa in areas that she considers her domain.

“Marg, we shouldn't,” she shudders as Margaery pushes her off her lap. Sansa finds herself shaking standing up and obliges to Margaery’s request. “What if someone walks in?”

“This is the reason we got our own home in the first place,” Margaery reasons as her hand strokes Sansa’s back.

Sansa bites her lip as her cheek presses against the cool rosewood top. She tries very hard not to squirm because of the papers underneath her. She curls into Margaery’s touches through her summer button up and wishes Margaery would take it off her.

Margaery untucks Sansa’s shirt to bring up to her waist before pushing her riding trousers down to her knees. She licks her lips at Sansa’s curvaceous ass before stroking both cheeks with her hands. Sansa squirms at this. “Are you getting wet?” she asks cheekily.

Sansa groans into desk as she reaches to grip the edge. “You know I am.”

Margaery tuts at her. “I don’t like your tone, love,” she says playfully. She brings her hand down to strike Sansa’s cheek. Sansa gasps at sudden tingle. “If you don’t behave, I won’t let you come.”

Sansa moans as Margaery is pressed flush against her back. She can feel Margaery’s breasts press into her back just briefly before she hears something slide across the desk. She looks back to see her riding crop in Margaery’s hand. Her eyes widen at the smirk on Margaery’s lips.

Margaery raises her eyebrows. “Like I said, think of me when you ride today.”

Sansa bites her lip and nods. She takes a step back in small movements with her trousers at her knees where the boots end.

“I love it when you’re like this,” Margaery says as she raises the leather to caress Sansa’s cheeks, outlining their curves slowly from top to bottom.

Sansa shivers at the way the leather grazes her skin, pressing as much as Margaery wants it to. She gasps when it slips to her thighs, teasing her nerves that she nearly buckles. Margaery taps her thighs gently to stand still but her wetness is sliding down her thighs. For a moment, the riding crop disappears from between her legs.

She furtively looks back over her shoulder to see Margaery inspecting the leather. Her whole body warms as Margaery meets her eyes. The end of the crop is just wet.

“Someone is naughty, aren’t they?” Margaery croons before bring down the crop to hit Sansa’s cheek. “Count with me.”

Sansa lets out small groan at the way the leather hits her skin. Margaery doesn’t hit her hard, but just enough get her wetter. Sansa knows what follows because she likes a bit of pain with her pleasure.

“What was that?” Margaery demands.

“One,” Sansa moans out.

Margaery strikes her again. “Two.”

Again. “Three.”

Again. “Four.”

“Am I not hitting hard enough?” Margaery asks quietly. Again.

This time, Sansa’s caught off guard because she uses a bit more force that sends shockwaves up and down her spine. “F-five.”

“Sansa…”

“I’m fine,” Sansa exhales steadily. “Please.”

Margaery swallows thickly because she can see the slickness shine between Sansa’s legs. The red marks are forming across her pale skin. And gods, she loves it when Sansa is like this. They both like it when they can share this dynamic in their relationship. She brings down the crop again and again.

Until Sansa chokes out, “Ten.” She’s curled into the desk and her thighs are pressing together to relieve the tension. “Margaery---I want.”

Margaery grasps Sansa’s cheek roughly before bring the crop up between her legs. The leather presses roughly against her and Margaery slides it between Sansa’s folds until she starts to move her hips against the riding crop. “Keep going,” Margaery growls before slapping Sansa’s cheek, leaving a handprint on her ass.

“Margaery,” Sansa mewls out with embarrassment. “I want you.”

Margaery wants to give in to Sansa but she remains firm. They’ve discussed this before that they can be a bit rough with each other to draw out the tension and arousal until it gets to be too much. Margaery grabs a fistful of Sansa’s locks and tugs until she’s arching back against her.

Sansa cries out between the riding crop just slipping inside of her and the way Margaery pulls her hair. She gasps and pants as Margaery nips at her neck and teases her folds with the flat tip of leather. “Can I--”

“Go ahead, rub your clit,” Margaery orders as she tugs just a bit harder at her hair. She sucks at Sansa’s sensitive neck and holds the riding crop firmly in place.

Sansa shakes against Margaery as she rubs her clit hard and quick. The tension has been building since the first strike of the riding crop. As much as she wants Margaery’s fingers inside her, the way Margaery handles her body just by ordering her is enough to get her going. She’s so close as she continues to rub herself.

Neither of them realizes the door opens until someone speaks.

“Well of course you two are at it like rabbits,” Olenna notes aloud to announce herself.  

Sansa yelps at Olenna standing at the doorway and quickly drops to her knees to hide the fact that she’s half naked. Her body is still thrumming against her will but the shock of another person’s presence immediately makes Sansa’s full body blush.

“Grandmother!” Margaery greets in shock as she hides the riding crop behind her back. “What’re you doing here so early?”

“I was trying to be considerate of dear Sansa’s time,” Olenna answers snarkily. “We have much to discuss with your lack of participation.”

Margaery thins her lips. “Of course, you do.”

Olenna disregards Margaery entirely before looking at Sansa, who wishes the ground would just swallow her whole. “Sansa, darling, are you going to be okay riding?”

“Of course,” she answers quickly, trying not to disappoint Olenna despite being mortified that she knows what they were doing.

Olenna makes a disgruntled sound before looking at Margaery. “You must still be striking from your wrist,” she points out with disappointment. Margaery blushes at this and Sansa wishes the ground would swallow her up. “I’ll be waiting in the conservatory. If it takes any longer, your technique is not working.”

Olenna leaves with the last word that has Sansa burying her face into the desk and Margaery blushing brightly.

That woman,” Margaery grumbles with embarrassment. She looks at the riding crop in her hand before waving it with a flick of her wrist. “There’s nothing wrong with striking from the wrist, I don’t want to hurt her.”

Sansa groans both in frustration and embarrassment. “I can’t believe that just happened.”

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

Margaery wakes up to the sunlight barely rising in the wintry sky. She knows it’s too early for her to be awake, but her body is fully reacting to the touches underneath her slip. She moans at the familiar feeling of her fiancee’s fingers between her folds.

She can feel the soft lips kissing at her neck and the gentle nuzzle that follows.

Mmm?” she moans sleepily as she turns her head. “Already?”

There’s a low grumble from Sansa’s chest as she nuzzles into Margaery, taking in her scent. “You came to bed late last night,” she complains as her fingers continue to dance between Margaery’s dampening folds.

Margaery curls back into Sansa’s body with a whimper because her wetness spills out of her faster than she realizes. Her own hand cups Sansa’s underneath her dress, encouraging her to keep going. “I had to meet with some investors,” she explains weakly as her sleepy body drowns in arousal. Margaery moans loudly as Sansa pushes two fingers inside of her. Her senses are extremely sensitive as Sansa thrusts inside her at an unforgiving pace.

Sansa nips at her neck. “I waited for you all night,” she grumbles as she thrusts her fingers into Margaery deeply, stilling knuckle deep.

Margaery gasps as she clutches Sansa’s arm. “Sansa--please.” She can feel the way Sansa’s lips curl at her neck.

“Do you want me to stop?” Sansa relaxes her fingers but makes no effort to move them. “Because I think my girl deserves a little punishment.”

Margaery shivers at Sansa’s words. Sometimes she forgets that in all of the rooms of their house, the bedroom is where Sansa rules. “Don’t stop,” Margaery rasps out. “Fuck me, Sansa.”

Sansa kisses Margaery’s neck hotly and thrusts her fingers until she’s squirming. “Are you close?”

Margaery groans as Sansa thrusts deeper and faster. “Gods, yes--”

Sansa twists her wrist slightly and Margaery jerks back against her, feeling Sansa’s fingers push against her g-spot. Just as she feels pushed towards the edge, Sansa suddenly pulls out her hand.

“Sansa--” Margaery sobs loudly before turning her face to bury into the pillow. She's so close but Sansa leaves her empty and wanton. She squeezes her thighs tightly together, trying desperately to relieve the pressure.

Margaery can feel Sansa shift on her side of the bed and picks up her head. Sansa is off the bed moving to the closet, absolutely naked and Margaery turns onto her back to watch her fiancee.

“Sansa…” she calls out carefully. She's throbbing as Sansa disappears into the closet. “Honey, what are you doing?”

Sansa peeks out of the closet with a cheeky smile on her face. “I am grabbing the spreader bar,” she chirps too happily.

Margaery moans at Sansa’s words. This is what Sansa meant by punishment.

Sansa reappears spreader bar in one hand and a double sided dildo in the other. There's a knowing look on her face as she approaches the bed that has Margaery rubbing her thighs together.

“How do you want me?” Margaery obediently asks.

“Take off your slip,” Sansa says as she places the items at the edge of the bed. “I'll take care of the rest.” Sansa bites her lip as she stares at Margaery with hunger.

Margaery nods and quickly takes off her slip and throws it aside. She waits patiently for Sansa with baited breath.

When they’d first started experimenting with BDSM, Sansa had been completely intimidated by the concept of it. She was too shy and self conscious to even look Margaery in the eye, even when Margaery took the lead to comfort her. Now, Sansa finds it easier to slip out of skin and into a persona that she isn’t afraid of.

It’s the reason why now Margaery is taken so easily in their bedroom, completely willing to Sansa as Sansa is in her office. Sansa maneuvers her body with ease to where she wants her, on her back with her ankles and wrist secured to the bar by the leather cuffs. Her cunt on display for Sansa as she shivers underneath her fiancee’s stare.

Sansa gently pushes the bar until Margaery’s knees are pressed against the bed. While Margaery hates her personal trainer, she has to admit in these cases it helps to be flexible.

“Are you okay?” Sansa asks, trying to hide the worry on her face, even though she bites her lip as she stares between Margaery’s legs. Her warm hands caress the back of Margaery’s thighs comfortingly.

Margaery nods, shifting her hips to a more comfortable position for Sansa.

“Hands and feet?”

She wiggles her fingers and toes to assure Sansa before she tries to reach for Sansa. Sansa moves to kiss Margaery’s palms before moving down her body. Her body tingles as Sansa presses kisses down her body. She wants to touch Sansa but knows that this is part of her punishment.

Sansa smiles as she moves backward off the bed, much to Margaery’s dismay.

“If you leave me like this, Sansa--” she lets out threateningly.

Sansa hushes her with a smirk on her lips. Just as she steps off the bed, she reaches for the double sided dildo. Margaery watches with wide eyes as Sansa stands with her legs apart before pushing the bulbed end inside of her slowly, moaning quietly as she readjusts. She feels herself getting wetter as she stares at Sansa standing before her with confidence and allure. She’s immensely jealous that Sansa has the core strength to hold the dildo.

“You’re not being fair,” Margaery breathes out as she starts to feel her knees shake. She wants to relieve the tension between her legs.

Sansa senses Margaery’s growing frustration as she kneels before Margaery. Her hand comes up, cupping her wet mound gathering the slickness around her fingers. Margaery moans at the way Sansa’s fingers dance between her folds, teasing her entrance. She jerks at the touches, the leather cuffs rattling the short chains against the metal bar.

Sansa’s hand leaves Margaery’s mound. Margaery’s eyes follow Sansa’s hand as she gather the wetness before rubbing it up and down the shaft of the dildo. By the way Sansa tugs it, Margaery knows how the bulb on the other end moves inside of her and she clenches her walls around nothingness, wanting nothing more than Sansa to fill her.   

“Sansa, please,” Margaery begins to beg. Her legs can’t move any further apart to show Sansa how much she wants her. “Please fuck me.”

Sansa moans as she presses against Margaery’s folds with the underside of her cock. Margaery mewls at pressure settling at her entrance. Sansa sighs with satisfaction as she moves her hips so that shaft can grind up and down Margaery’s fold, the tip bumping her throbbing clit.

Margaery wants to sob at how good it feels. But Sansa is only teasing her and she wants more. “Inside of me, please,” she chokes out, trying to lift just her hips up so the dildo can slip inside of her. “I want your cock inside of me, filling me, fuck-ah-fucking me.”

Sansa groans at Margaery’s words. She reaches for bar and presses it until Margaery’s hips are pushed back against bed. “I’m going to fuck you,” she grunts as she lines her hips with Margaery’s, the dildo settling right at her entrance. “I’m going to keep fucking you until you can’t walk.”

Margaery throws her head back in pleasure as Sansa pushes the dildo inside of her. The both of them moan in pleasure; Sansa feeling the bulb pushing into her as the shaft goes deeper into Margaery’s tight channel. Sansa remains in complete control as her walls clench around the bulb, she focuses more on Margaery, moaning as their hips meet. Margaery’s movement is limited, she can feel the tension in her muscles as Sansa thrusts into her.

The sound of their skin slapping each other hard fills the room. Margaery can’t hold back her pornographic moans as the sensation ripples through her body. Sansa picks up momentum as Margaery struggles to move under her grasp, her hand tightening around the bar until her knuckles are white. Margaery moves her wrists against the bars with a clang, wanting desperately to touch Sansa.

“I know, Marg, I know what you want,” Sansa grunts as she continues to move her hips with ease. She brings a hand up Margaery’s body until she’s cupping her breast, massaging it until her nipples are hard enough to pinch.

Margaery thrashes at the piercing pleasure. Her hips pushing until the dildo is deep inside of her and her muscles are stretched. She cries out Sansa’s name over and over again.

“This is your punishment,” Sansa growls, pushing deeper until their clits bump each other. “I know how much you want to touch me. How much you want to rub your fingers against my clit.” She moans loudly as the bulb hits a sensitive area inside of her. She slows her pace, letting the bulb rub her. She clenches her walls around it before shifting the angle of the dildo slightly inside of her Margaery.

Margaery screams out Sansa’s name. She curses, balling her hands into fists as she pushes against the leather. It rubs against her skin the more she resists. The dildo head pushing against the front of her walls. She can feel her legs shiver as her body continues to tingle. “Sansa, please, I’m close,” Margaery continues to beg.

Sansa moans in satisfaction. “Good girl,” she huskily breathes out. She relieves the pressure from the bar and places both of her hands at Margaery’s hips. “Come with me.”

Margaery’s eyes roll back as Sansa pushes into her, shifting her hips so the dildo hits right where Margaery is most sensitive. She tries to meet Sansa’s pace, but her muscles are already becoming sore, her walls tightening. Sansa digs her nails into Margaery’s hips and jerkily thrusts into her, panting uncontrollably.

They both cry out as the orgasm hits them quickly. Sansa shivering as her walls clamp around the bulb. She doesn’t stop thrusting around Margaery’s fluttering walls through their orgasms.

Margaery feels spent, barely staying conscious through her orgasm.

Sansa pulls out of her and Margaery feels immensely empty. The soreness is creeping between her folds, she can feel it already starting in her legs.

Suddenly, there’s a sharp tug at her shoulder muscles as she’s being maneuvered onto her front. Her ass is in the air as her face is pressed into the soft sheets. Sansa’s fingers are dancing through the new layer of juices at her entrance and she pushes back against them.

“Oh gods,” Margaery groans loudly into the sheets, still trying to press her thighs together, but her ankles hit the metal bars. “Sansa---”

There’s a sharp slap against her ass that has her crying out again.

Sansa doesn’t warn Margaery as she shoves the dildo back inside of Margaery’s sensitive pussy. She moans inwardly as Margaery keens back into her, the metals quietly clicking against each other. She thrusts hard into Margaery’s tight channel.

Margaery seizes at the new angle, feeling it deeper than before. Sansa pounds into her now at an unforgiving pace, wanting her to know how much she can give Margaery. Sansa wants her to take all of dildo deep inside of her the way she wants Margaery too. Margaery, completely bound, takes it with pleasure, pushing her hips back as well as she can. Her limbs starting to burn.

Sansa drapes herself against Margaery’s back to bring her some comfort. Her hands snake around her waist until she’s cupping Margaery’s breasts. She kisses Margaery’s shoulders gently, breath hot as she speaks, “Do you like this?” She grunts as she thrusts harder.

“Gods, yes, Sansa,” Margaery gasps. “I love how you fuck me.”

Sansa smiles against her back. “You’re so tight,” she moans, pushing against the walls. Despite how much Margaery’s dripping, Sansa can tell by how Margaery’s walls subtly push her out how tight she is. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

Margaery shakes her head. She can hear the restraint in Sansa’s voice. “Don’t stop, Sans--,” she pleads. “Take me. Fuck me. Punish me. Do whatever you want.”

Sansa groans against her back in satisfaction before she starts to pound away at her. She kneels back up, hands holding Margaery’s waist. As much as she likes staring at Margaery’s face when she’s fucking her, Sansa feels immensely different as Margaery is underneath her, ass pressing back into her and face down on the bed. It’s funny how everyone seems to think Margaery is constantly dominating her in their relationship. At times like this, Sansa gets her share and she uses it wisely.

Sansa takes a breath as her core muscles continue to tighten, her abs are getting sore from the pounding, but she wants to keep going until Margaery is weak.

Margaery shakes underneath her, begging her loudly to keep going. That’s what she loves about Margaery, she’ll let Sansa do whatever she wants.

“You’re amazing,” Sansa praises through her pants. “I love you so much.”

Margaery buries her face into the bed, crying as the pleasure starts to hit her. Sansa feels Margaery’s body tense under her as an orgasm hits. Sansa tries to stave off her own orgasm, feeling the bulb hit her walls as she thrusts harder. Margaery stills suddenly, muscles spasming under her fingers.

Sansa growls. “More,” she demands as her hand strikes Margaery’s cheek again. A bright red handprint is left behind on Margaery’s beautiful skin. “One more, love. You can do it.”

Margaery picks up her head, trying to curl into herself but limited by the bar. “I don’t think I can---”

“You can, you’re my girl Marg,” Sansa encourages, her hands rubbing Margaery’s ass. She strikes her again. “Come on--take it.”

Margaery shivers and slowly pushes back against Sansa despite how sensitive her body is. But she wants to do this for Sansa. She lets Sansa fuck her. She moans, arching her lower back just enough to take the dildo in deeper. “Anything you want,” she agrees. With whatever strength she has left, Margaery shifts her knees apart and presses her chest into the bed.

Sansa pounds into her harder and faster, finding her rhythm. Margaery takes it, barely riding the last orgasm. She’s already pushing into another. The tension snaps and Margaery screams out in pleasure as the orgasm hits her again. She can hear Sansa’s strangle moans as she stops thrusting into Margaery, her own orgasm hitting hard.

There’s suddenly a loud thud of the door slamming into the wall followed by, “Good fucking lord you two!” Loras’s voice booming.

Sansa literally falls out of Margaery onto the ground, taking the sheet with her.

Margaery picks up her head in embarrassment because she’s bare naked and still bound to the spreader bar. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

Sansa quickly wraps the sheet around her chest. “Your brother came into town last night,” Sansa explains before throwing the duvet over Margaery to cover her up. ”I forgot to tell you.” She scratches the back of her head sheepishly. “I’m sorry, Loras…”

“I’m sure you’re not,” Loras deadpans as he glares at Margaery and Sansa. He shivers in disgust. “Rabbits, you two.”

Get out of here!” Margaery shrieks, cheek pressed against the bed.

Loras throws up his hands. “Stop fucking so I can get some sleep then!” He turns away from their room and starts to walk away. “Barely bloody sunrise and they’re fucking….”

“Shut the door!” Margaery yells futilely as she watches her brother walk away. She struggles to sit up but instead rolls over, tangling herself in the duvet onto her back.

Sansa rushes to shut the door in the meantime and turns to Margaery, blushing profusely. “I’m so sorry,” she quickly says as she makes her way to the bed to help untangle Margaery.

“Can you just get me out of this?” Margaery grumbles in frustration, looking less sexy and more foolish in the bar now. She pouts as the blush kisses her cheeks. “How could you forget that my brother was here?”

“Because he came so late last night,” Sansa answers as she pulls Margaery free of the duvet and begins to undo the straps. “Also I didn’t think he’d hear us; I gave him the south side room.” She smiles to herself as she frees Margaery.

Margaery groans as she stretches her limbs around Sansa and sits up. It doesn’t last long because she feels the soreness between her legs. “Why did we get a house again?” she grumbles to the ceiling.

Sansa throws aside the bar with a clatter and crawls up Margaery’s body carefully. “Because we’re in love and we wanted our own home?”

Margaery rolls her eyes at her fiancee and hugs her close. “Then why do people keep interrupting us having sex?”

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

It was very rare for the Prime Minister of Westeros to make house visits because vacations came far too scanty and honestly, any time off would be better spent away from Westeros. However, this was obviously a different kind of house visit for PM Targaryen aka Sansa’s sister in law.

“Why did my sister want to speak to you again?” Sansa asks as she slips on her summer dress. She ruffles out her long hair into waves that catches Margaery’s attention at the corner of her eyes.

Margaery shimmies on her tan slacks before looking for a top to wear. “Honestly, I don’t know. She was being very vague but she said it has something to do with Dany.”

“Why wouldn’t she come to me?” Sansa pouts as she looks in the mirror to apply her lipstick.

“Maybe because she likes me more,” Margaery jokes, poking her head out of the closet.

Sansa rolls her eyes. “Remember her shovel talk she gave you? That ought to remind you how much she likes you.”

The smile on Margaery’s face is instantly wiped off and replaced with a fearful look. “I know it’s irrational for me to think she’d actually do anything because you know I’d never hurt you. However, she has to like me on some level because she hasn’t killed me yet.”

“Keep rationalizing it, love, I’m sure that’s the case,” Sansa cheekily throws back.

Margaery groans. “What should I wear, darling?”

Sansa looks at her flowery yellow dress and remembers that Margaery is wearing her slacks already. “Wear your white oxford,” she answers.

“Isn’t it a bit hot for that?” Margaery responds even though she’s already grabbing the shirt. She’s glad for the nude bra she chose earlier. She throws it on quickly and makes her way back to Sansa.

Sansa turns in her seat before standing up at Margaery, appreciating the fabric against her fiancee’s smooth skin. She reaches for the buttons from Margaery, but not without running her hands along her waist and upward towards her breasts.

Margaery gasps as she reaches for Sansa’s hands. “Are you trying to seduce me, Warden Stark?” she coyly teases.

“I would never dare, Lady Tyrell,” Sansa teases in return. She dips her head down to meet Margaery’s lips. Even though Arya and her wife are arriving soon, Sansa never misses an opportunity to savor kissing Margaery. It’s their thing that consistently annoys everyone in their family, but Sansa doesn’t care since both of them are so busy, it never hurts to take time to show how much they love each other.

Margaery moans into the kiss, letting Sansa deepen it. She gasps when Sansa swipes her tongue across her lips and seizes the opportunity to slip her tongue inside.

Sansa slips her arm around Margaery’s waist to pull her in closer and she crumbles into Sansa comfortably. Margaery has always been tempting to Sansa since they were in university together. After years of just being friends and then experimenting with her sexuality, Sansa was more sure of herself and what her desires were than ever. It was Margaery’s comfort and counsel that made her confident in campaigning North as openly lesbian.

Sansa tips Margaery’s head further back so that she can kiss along her jawline and down her neck. The sounds Margaery makes as she kisses her only spurs her to touch every inch of flesh she can. Until, Margaery pulls back painfully, placing her hands gently at her shoulders.

“Sansa, we aren’t going to do this right now,” Margaery groans as she licks her lips.

Sansa darts forward to nip at her neck. “Do what?” she teases.

Margaery shivers in Sansa’s arms before she firmly presses against Sansa. “We aren’t having sex because there’s a chance someone is going to walk in. Your sister has caught us plenty of times when we were in King’s Landing; I don’t need your sister in law, the prime minister, to catch us.”

Sansa hums against her neck. “Okaaaaaay,” she sighs out as she pulls back. She stares at Margaery before fixing her hair up. She drops a kiss on Margaery’s forehead when she’s satisfied. “I love you.”

Margaery smiles up at Sansa. “I love you, too.”

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

Margaery really doesn't know what to think of the phone call she gets from Arya asking if she and her wife could come by for a visit. She had expected Arya to really as Sansa for permission, but Margaery wasn't going to question it. Maybe that’s why Arya thought to ask her in the first place. Maybe it wasn’t something that Arya needed but it was something Daenerys needed.

After all, it’s the reason why Margaery and Arya are left to the range in the back field. They’d had lunch and tea briefly before Daenerys excused Arya to talk to Sansa privately. Arya’s lips instantly thinned with a faint blush on her cheeks. She must hate the idea of spending time with Margaery alone at this point.

It’s also been awhile since Margaery’s shot a bow and she knows that it’s been awhile since Arya’s shot one. But she knows Arya can aim considering the fact that she carries a gun as part of her profession.  

There’s a quiet clicking as they nock their bows.

Margaery’s hands feel a bit sweaty and she doesn’t know if it’s from the warm summer air or if it’s the fact that Arya is now armed.

Arya is tense, Margaery notices easily. Ever since they stepped outside together, their conversation has been sparse and superficial. Moreso than usual because oftentimes Arya has a bit to say to Margaery. Usually, Arya says something mildly threatening to Margaery, reminding her that while Sansa and Margaery are in a very serious relationship, everything Margaery does to Sansa will be under scrutiny.

Margaery felt her soul leave her body when Arya had given her a shovel talk. It’d been right after Sansa had proposed to her and they were of course celebrating. Sansa thought it would be fitting to be bound while they had sex. Who was Margaery to say no?

At that time, Arya had only recently moved out after getting married to Dany, so she had left some of her fencing swords behind. Needless to say, Arya had caught Margaery with her sister in cuffs and thought the worst of it. It was a very, very embarrassing time for all of them that they try very hard not to bring up. Margaery is honestly scared of Arya armed with anything to be honest.

In the calm afternoon air, the only thing that really makes a sound is the gentle brush of the wind blowing through the fields and the whizzing of their bows.

The arrow impacts the hay with a dull thud. Arya misses the target yet again.

Margaery on the the other hand has been doing well...not too well though, blaming her near bulls eye on how rusty she is. She still feels the tension in the air, thicker than the humidity down in Sunspear.

“I’m sorry my father never taught me to hunt,” Margaery begins conversationally. She narrows her eyes down to the target.

“Why do you say that?” Arya asks, thickly, back turned to Margaery as she nocks another bow.

“I’d have rifles on hand over bows and arrows.”

Arya turns her head just enough to meet Margaery at the corner of her eyes. “I’ve never been much of a fan hunting for sport,” she says lowly. “The pack still hunts in woods of Winterfell, so it’s been banned it to stop people from accidentally shooting them.”

Margaery sucks in a breath. “Right, you’re absolutely right,” she agrees almost immediately. Clearly it wasn’t the right thing to say as Arya goes back to focusing on trying to get her shot right. It’s not going well for her and Margaery senses it’s because of the tension.

Arya raises the bow a bit too high and pulls back too quickly before releasing it. It shoots shorter than she wants and she lets out a sigh before reaching for another bow.

“Are you alright?” Margaery asks. She can’t stand this tension anymore. “You seem very...tense today.”

Arya turns to look at Margaery mid-nock. Margaery unconsciously steps back because Arya is now armed and staring directly at her for the first time this whole visit. Her cheeks are flushed as she stares hard at Margaery.

Margaery clasps her own bow between her hands defensively, standing tall because she’s convinced Arya can smell fear on her. “Usually, you’re just a better shot,” Margaery reasons with uncertainty. “Not that you’re doing bad today. I’m probably doing worse to be honest. I haven’t picked up a bow since the last quarterly review.” She’s rambling.

Arya swallows thickly before taking a step towards Margaery. “I have a question for you,” she interrupts.

“Sure thing! Ask away!” Margaery asks quickly, glancing at the bow and arrow in Arya’s hands. “I am here for anything you need me to do.”

Arya turns a bit red before the question comes out of her mouth tersely, “Do you still cuff Sansa?”

Margaery’s eyes widen before she starts rambling again, “N-no! Why would you think that? Sansa and I? Hah! That was just a phase, you know how we were---experimenting and what not. You know I’d never do anything without her permission right? We’re in a wholesome, loving relationship. You can ask her yourself!”

Arya furrows her brows at Margaery’s demeanor before she looks down at her hands. She lifts the bow just a bit that Margaery actually flinches. “Do you honestly think I am going to shoot you?” she grumbles.

Margaery opens her mouth ready to answer like she always is, but instantly shuts it to think for a moment. “I don’t know how to answer that,” she blurts out.

Arya rolls her eyes, very similar to Sansa before throwing her bow down. “Look, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m actually here to ask for your advice.”

Margaery stares in confusion. “My advice?” she says dumbly.

Arya blushes as she nods. “Yes, advice.”

“About?” Margaery asks carefully.

The younger Stark scratches the back of her neck nervously as she mumbles her answer.

Margaery feels dumb as she asks, “What?” Because she’s pretty sure she heard it wrong.

Arya looks pained as she stares at Margaery. Well she looks embarrassed too. “Bondage,” she mumbles, looking anywhere but Margaery.

Margaery’s eyebrows shoot up her forehead as her jaw drops. “You’re asking me about bondage? With...Daenerys?” She has to clarify because she’d always wonder how their relationship was considering how serious they were all the time. Now she’s imagining something completely different.

Arya huffs. “Yes, with Dany, she’s my wife. Who the hell else would I want to...do bondage with?” There’s an adorable blush on Arya’s face and Margaery has mild satisfaction and flattery that Arya would come to her for advice. “It’s not like I can ask Sansa. It’s already embarrassing enough that Dany’s asked me to do this.”

Margaery feels a bit more confident now, having the upper hand. She steps towards Arya to throw an arm around her shoulder. Arya instantly glares at her but Margaery doesn’t think anything of it. “Let’s walk and talk. You can tell me what you’re so terrified of.”

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

Sansa nearly chokes on her glass of whiskey and tries to compose herself quickly as her sister in law turns around from the window of her office. “I’m sorry, I thought I heard you incorrectly, but you’re asking me about bondage?” she exclaims in shock. She can feel the blush creeping up her cheeks. “I can’t imagine what would make you think that Margaery and I would ever---”

Daenerys stares at Sansa with an amused look on her face. She’s always unbothered by Sansa’s flustered expression whenever Arya elicits it. For the most part, she finds a flustered Stark to be extremely charming. “Sansa, please, Arya’s told me about the times she's caught you and Margaery,” she admits calmly.

Sansa blushes even harder. “She was supposed to take that to the grave,” Sansa grumbles angrily. It takes her a single gulp to finish off her whiskey.

“Please don’t be embarrassed,” Dany goes on as she sits down opposite to Sansa.

Sansa still blushes anyway. “Well the prime minister of Westeros knows my proclivities in the bedroom, I’m more mortified.” She pours herself another drink.

Dany nods in agreement with Sansa. “It’s honestly why I’ve come to you to discuss this. We are both women in power, constantly scrutinized by the public, if this were to come out...”

Sansa’s eyes widen and the internal screaming starts at the thought. Thank god, Margaery and her have been in a long standing relationship so that their personal lives are under less scrutiny.

“But I’m not here as a prime minister today Sansa,” Dany admits with a shy blush on her face. “I’m here as your sister in law.”

Sansa is starting to feel a little sick. “My sister in law wants to try bondage with my baby sister,” she notes aloud more to herself.

“It’s just that, she’s always so reserved and careful with me in bed,” Dany tries to explain as she looks pleadingly at Sansa. “She treats me like a princess, like I’m made of glass or something.”

Sansa tries very hard not to gag because being told how her sister is like in the bedroom is definitely oversharing. Then Dany’s words hit her, “So you want my sister to...not treat you like a princess?”

Dany sits up straight and regal with a small smile on her face. “I’m sure you understand what I’m asking of her. With our marriage happening so suddenly because of the election and her promotion, we haven’t had time to be very intimate. I just want us to explore our sexuality together and continue strengthening our relationship. Because you and Margaery have been together for so long, I just thought you could provide some insight.”

Sansa stares at Dany carefully. For once, she isn’t intimidated by Dany’s presence because she isn’t coming to Sansa as Prime Minister Targaryen. She’s just a woman who wants to be with her baby sister. It’s still appalling that Dany knows about her bedroom activities, but with the pleading look in Dany’s violet eyes, Sansa really can’t say no. She wants people to be happy, it’s her weakness.

Sansa pours Dany a glass of whiskey to drink with her. “I won’t be able to get through this conversation sober but I’ll do my best to help you?”

At this Dany brightens and takes the glass of whiskey. Both understanding and thankful.