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First Time’s the Charm

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She was trying to think of…something. Neurones were firing in her brain, impulses travelling along the synapses; everything that was physically meant to happen when one is thinking was happening but Margaery just couldn’t think when Sansa Stark was kissing her to within an inch of her life, her fingers digging into Margaery’s hips slightly, holding her close even as she pushed her backwards into Margaery’s bedroom.

Things had been progressing nicely between them in the last month or so (‘Or thirty-three days, whatever, who’s counting?’) that Margaery and Sansa had been doing…whatever it is that they’ve been doing. Things had exclusively stayed at making out on the couch with a gradual progression from over-the-clothes to under-the-clothes fondling and Margaery was trying to be ‘good’ and not push things any further but…Margaery had never been particularly skilled at being ‘good’ and this wasn’t even fair because this was Sansa pushing her into her own bedroom. ‘With the best will power in the world, one might manage to achieve not pushing someone further sexually when they desperately wanted to proceed but surely no one could maintain said will power when the object of your desire was seducing you?’ Margaery thought to herself hopelessly.

The feeling of the back of her legs hitting her bed roused her from her monologue enough so that when they both landed on the bed and Sansa’s lips parted from her own for a second, making Sansa exhale on an adorable little laugh before moving to lean in again, Margaery knew that she had to act quickly.

‘Evasive manoeuvres!’ Margaery pulled Sansa closer still towards her before rolling them over so she could look down at Sansa in all her pink-cheeked, mussed hair, glazed eyes, lazy smile, panting glory. ‘Why are you doing this to me?’ Margaery lamented internally, feeling a gentle pout creep onto her face.

Sansa’s eyes re-focused and met Margaery’s amber stare, her smile getting even wider before she leaned up to try capture her lips again.

Margaery pulled back slightly and noted the slight scrunch to Sansa’s forehead in response so rushed her words out to appease her. “Hey, don’t you think we’re moving a bit fast?” Margaery asked, thumb inadvertently stroking along Sansa’s jawline, absently thinking that Merry, Elinor and the others would absolutely piss themselves laughing if they had just heard her say that, insisting that she had been body snatched as the ‘real-Margaery’ would never say such a thing.

“Fast?” Sansa questioned absently, still slightly out of breath.

“Yeah. Like, is it all happening a bit quick?”

Sansa’s forehead scrunched further and her left eyebrow rose, alerting Margaery to her negative answer before she even opened her mouth. “Well,” Sansa started, her tone screaming her derision with the single word alone, “considering we’ve known each other for nearly three years and have been living together for two of them, I’d have to say: no.”

‘She does not look happy.’ Margaery commented to herself, starting to worry that she was going to offend Sansa rather than endear herself to her. “I just…don’t want you to feel like I’m pushing you…this…us?”

Sansa tilted her head and started to smirk, her eyebrow raised in challenge. “What’s the longest amount time you’ve ever waited between meeting someone and bedding them?”

‘Oh, bloody hell!’ Margaery thought, slightly panicked at the question. Margaery thought about it before replying primly yet a bit smugly, “Eight years.” ‘Suck it, Stark!’ Margaery cheered herself haughtily, feeling that she had succinctly shut down Sansa’s point.

Sansa scoffed and squinted her eyes. “When you didn’t meet them as a child!”

‘Damn!’ Margaery cast her mind back and shrugged noncommittally. Sansa was having none of it and just continued to look at her expectantly, waiting for an answer. “I don’t know. Two or three weeks? Something like that.” She admitted dejectedly. ‘Gods, please don’t ask for the least amount of time. Giving the answer of forty minutes will neither help my position nor make me feel proud to admit.’

Sansa smiled smugly. “So, three years versus three weeks. I think I win.” Sansa proclaimed, leaning up to claim her prize. Margaery jerked her head away again without thinking and this time, Sansa didn’t look confused when she let her head fall back on the bed; she looked rejected. Sansa let a harsh breath out through her nose and bit the inside of her lip, her eyes turning steely. “You know, when I pictured in my head how this would go, it didn’t involve lying in your bed, having to cajole you into it and, if I’m honest, it’s doing nothing to help my already fragile self-esteem.” Sansa got out, her eyes losing their hardness and started to look a bit shiny as she tried to sit up.

Margaery slumped on top of her, hoping the dead weight would pin her down long enough so that she could explain herself properly, burying her head in Sansa’s shoulder so that she could speak directly into her ear. “No, no, no! It’s not like that, Sweet Girl. I’m just…I’m just trying to be a chivalrous Knight here! Don’t you see that’s what this is? Gods, I want you so much, Sans.” Sansa ceased to struggle as her arms wrapped around Margaery’s waist, hands stroking up and down her spine, making Margaery cuddle deeper into her shoulder. “I thought that was obvious; too obvious even. That’s why I tried to put the brakes on. I know…” Margaery hesitated, unsure whether bringing Joffrey up at this moment was the best idea but she needed to explain all the same. “I know you’ve only ever been with one person…I just didn’t want you to feel like I was pushing you at all. That you had to do something that you weren’t quite ready for.”

There was silence. Sansa’s hands stopped their caressing and rested stationary on her hips while Margaery rose and fell gently with each breath Sansa took from her resting place on Sansa’s chest.

“I never felt for a second like you were pushing me into doing anything. If anything, I need you to push me a little bit because…you are definitely the instigator of the two of us.” She laughed and it bounced Margaery up and down a little bit, making her smile widely into Sansa’s neck. “If anything I was a bit suspicious of why things haven’t progressed more; I thought maybe you were having second thoughts about the whole thing. I’m sorry if I overreacted. I just…I’m always waiting for the worst; I never had to wait for very long with Joff. It’s putting me on edge a bit, waiting for it to happen with you.” Sansa replied quietly, coughing slightly at the end as though she were trying to clear her throat.

Margaery took in a deep breath of Sansa’s hair, smiling at the familiar scent of lilacs, strawberries and chlorine before blowing the hot air out along her ear and neck, making her shiver. “I feel like, that sort of fear, isn’t something that I can alleviate verbally; it’s a show not tell sort of thing, would you agree?” Margaery asked, mumbling into Sansa’s ear while pressing her forehead to Sansa’s temple. Sansa nodded. “Then I’ll get right on that.” Margaery smiled, pressing a kiss to Sansa’s high cheekbone.

“So, if I start kissing you again, are you going to let things happen as they will or…vagina-block me?” Sansa queried very seriously into Margaery’s hair, making Margaery burst out laughing in return before kissing Sansa soundly.

It didn’t take long for them both to stop laughing and hands to start wandering again. ‘This is the exact thing that led to us moving from the sofa.’ Margaery noted idly.

Sansa was cradling Margaery’s face in her hands, so gently, in a way like no other had before, fingers gently scraping across her scalp where head met neck while Margaery had one hand stroking through Sansa’s hair and the other under Sansa’s blouse when Sansa tensed up and started to giggle.

Margaery pulled back, puzzled. “Not quite the reaction I was going for.” She stated, trying not to sound miffed.

“I’m sorry.” Sansa started, looking embarrassed as she brought her hands up to cover her eyes. “I just realised something.”

“And that is?” Margaery asked, trying to pry Sansa’s hands away from her face with little success.

When Sansa did finally uncover her face, her cheeks were a lovely pink and she wouldn’t meet Margaery’s eyes at first. “We’re…we’re going to see each other naked.” Sansa proclaimed, finally meeting Margaery’s gaze, smiling her nervous smile.

Margaery laughed in response, completely bemused, as always, at Sansa’s insane self-consciousness, especially when she looked as she did. “Indeed we will.” Margaery agreed, leaning in to kiss Sansa’s neck. “Unless you wanted to turn the lights off and remain implicitly under the covers at all times.” Margaery laughed as her lips met Sansa’s skin before she choked on her chuckle, horrified for a moment that the crazy, crazy girl would actually go for the mocking suggestion.

Margaery pulled away slightly to assess her reaction. Sansa’s cheeks were still pink but she was looking off to the side and rolling her eyes. “Ha ha!” She stated sardonically.

‘Phew!’ Margaery thought, relieved that she hadn’t talked herself into something unthinkable. “You know,” Margaery started, significantly more relaxed than she had been before, slowly peppering kisses over Sansa’s face, “I’ve pretty much seen you naked already. We have seen each other in bikini’s.” Margaery spoke logically, her smile getting wider at the ‘Bikini Sansa’ visual.

“But you’ve not seen the boobs and the…other stuff.” Sansa argued back, avoiding her gaze again.

“Well, actually, do you remember that time you slipped on your way out of the bathroom and the towel fell…”

“Oh my gods!” Sansa screeched, covering her face with her hands again. “You said you didn’t see anything!” Sansa moaned.

Margaery waited until Sansa met her gaze again before replying. “I lied!” She confessed with a wide, lecherous smile. “So there you go. Nothing to be nervous about. All of this,” Margaery started, gesturing vaguely to Sansa’s body laid out on the bed beneath her, “it’s old news.” Margaery summarised with a nonchalant shrug but ruining the intended effect with a beaming smile.

Sansa finally broke and giggled at their normal teasing. Margaery sat up, straddling Sansa hips and looking down at the redhead fondly, taken suddenly with how beautiful she looked. “So?” Margaery drew out, playing with the buttons on Sansa’s blouse.

“So…” Sansa started, letting her nails run across the skin of Margaery’s thighs, just below the hemline of the dress she wore. “Why don’t you…why don’t you strip…for me.” Sansa stuttered out with a transparent attempt at blasé, speaking with confidence that, bless her, she couldn’t quite pull off while bringing her hands together behind her head casually though the effect was ruined when she awkwardly caught her knuckle on Margaery’s mahogany headboard, yelping in pained surprise. ‘She’s trying though.’ Margaery thought trying not to laugh, giving her a fond smile for her efforts which morphed quickly into a seductive leer.

“Yeah?” Margaery questioned, raising herself up onto her knees and going backwards slowly to the base of the bed.

“Mmmmm-hmmmm.” Sansa confirmed, not opening her mouth.

As Margaery stepped off of the bed, Sansa followed with slight trepidation, shimmying herself down to sit at the edge of the bed near where Margaery stood.

‘Her hands are always a giveaway.’ Margaery thought to herself. Sansa was a gesturer, telling a story as much with her hands as she did with her words so they were always a dead giveaway for what she was feeling in any given moment. When she was nervous she wrung her hands tightly together. When she was really nervous she would bite her nails. If she was feeling impatient, she would drum her fingers against some surface or another to advertise for all to see and if she was angry she would crack her knuckles. ‘It’s a good thing she’s only wringing them at the moment.’ Margaery thought to herself before, as though she’d heard her, Sansa stopped and instead leant back slightly on splayed hands, tilting her head at Margaery pointedly. ‘Okay then.’ Margaery thought with a smile, kicking off her sandals.

Margaery bit her lip and looked somewhat nervously to Sansa again for some sort of sign of confirmation. This was all getting really close to the point of no return for them. As devastating as it would be, if Sansa, or even she, decided at this point that they had made a mistake and they were better off as just friends then they could still go back and be what they had been to each other again. ‘But not if this goes any further.’

Sansa looked at her steadily with her wide blue eyes and that was her confirmation.

Margaery took a deep breath and grabbed the hem of her green summer dress before pulling it fluidly over her head and dropping it carelessly to the floor off to the side.

Sansa remained seated and silent, looking slightly taken aback, staring wide-eyed at Margaery, who was now stood in front of her in just a pair of white, lace knickers. Margaery didn’t want to spook her but thought she might as well go for broke and so she shimmied her knickers off and over her hips, letting them fall to the floor with a whisper-soft thump before kicking them off to the side too. Sansa sucked in a deep breath but still said nothing, only stared. After a tense few seconds of nothing but colour slowly filling Sansa’s cheeks, she started nodding firmly, as if agreeing with something Margaery had said before she looked away with a sigh. “Shit, I should have gone first.” She lamented woefully, shaking her head at herself.

Margaery let an amused chuckle bubble from her mouth before pulling Sansa’s face to her own for a kiss, feeling a fond smile fight its way onto her face again when Sansa seemed to struggle to decide where to rest her hands now, finally settling on her thighs.

Margaery tugged Sansa to her feet, pulling her close and grasping the back of her shirt tightly in her fists. Sansa gently pulled the bindings from Margaery’s hair, letting the golden brown waves spill down her back. When Sansa started to play with her hair and massage her scalp, Margaery felt like purring but when Sansa started to tug at her hair slightly as their kisses got deeper, Margaery felt like growling so buried her face in Sansa’s neck, biting the skin there harder than she’d originally intended.

“Ah! Stop, stop, stop.” Sansa panted, pulling Margaery’s head away and tilting it up to look at her.

Margaery actually felt her face flame a little bit in embarrassment at getting too caught up in things. “Sorry.” Margaery mumbled, thinking she sounded more contrite to her own ears than she ever had before.

“No, no.” Sansa panted softly, swiping her thumbs over Margaery’s cheeks and swaying slightly as if they were dancing to some silent music. “It’s just, I can’t really go into school with love bites all over my neck. It doesn’t really scream, “Give me your offspring’s minds to mould.” You can do it, just a more…discreet location for now I think. When the term ends though, the neck is all yours.” Sansa bargained with a small, sexy grin and Margaery was putty, going straight for her mouth again and beginning to unbutton her blouse, working from the bottom up.

Margaery found herself thinking of Sansa’s newly revealed flesh as an eclipse; don’t look directly at it. There were two main reasons for this: firstly, Sansa was holding her awfully close, not giving her much opportunity to pull her head away and take a peek (she felt like Sansa appreciated her lack of trying to do so) and, secondly, she thought she might seriously lose track of what she was doing if she paused now, thinking her motor skills would collapse and Sansa might, unthinkingly, remain with just her shirt off for the rest of the evening. Sansa’s hands had remained in fairly neutral zones, squeezing occasionally but not exploring while Margaery purposefully let her hands trail over Sansa’s soft skin as they went from her shirt to her skirt to her bra and finally to her knickers.

She couldn’t resist. ‘I mean, really, why would I even try?’ She asked herself unashamedly as her hands grazed up and around Sansa’s thighs and gripped her bare bum firmly. Sansa squeaked and jumped, giving Margaery a mock affronted look. “Cheeky!”

“Oh, whoa. Look what happened.” Margaery said softly with surprise and Sansa laughed loud.

“It’s still cheeky.” Sansa replied haughtily, tilting her head and raising her eyebrows.

“Yes they are.” Margaery agreed with a wicked smirk, squeezing firmly again, making Sansa laugh loud with a shriek and shake her head.

‘Sansa’s naked.’ Margaery thought to herself, slightly in awe. ‘Sansa Stark is stood naked in front of me, not five centimetres between my body and hers…and I can’t see a bloody thing!’ Margaery stared at Sansa’s face for a moment, trying to decide how to proceed. Sansa smiled lazily and kissed Margaery slowly again, making the tingle of anticipation turn into a prickling heat. Margaery kissed Sansa back just as softly, stepping closer so that they were right up against each other, walking Sansa backwards slightly until Sansa slowly reclined on the bed, Margaery following closely behind, climbing over her supine form. After a few more moments of kissing and fingers clutching the bedspread, Margaery couldn’t wait any longer and went on all fours so that she could look down and take in Sansa’s body properly.

She didn’t bother downplaying it to Sansa but, in reality, the ‘sneak-peak’ that she had previously mentioned was fairly minimal; it was around eight months ago and she’d been trying to look away, only glancing Sansa briefly in her periphery vision and damn it all if Sansa didn’t have good reflexes. The point was, this was new; shiny, excitingly, gloriously new.

As it was only mid-afternoon, there was plenty of natural light floating around the room, assisted by the fact that the curtains were open, and there were no creepy neighbours that could see in and kill the mood. Margaery felt her mouth go dry at the sight of a naked, slightly panting, slightly pink Sansa sprawled on her bed, red hair fanned out with perfect contrast to the green bed sheets. Sansa’s shoulders hunched slightly and her face creased as though she were waiting anxiously for Margaery to say something. Margaery smiled her small, cheeky smile, which Sansa returned with relief flooding her face, before Margaery leaned in close. "Did you have any other plans for the weekend?" Margaery whispered huskily into Sansa's ear before nibbling gently along the shell, making Sansa's hips jump.

"Uh..." Sansa started, turning her head so that Margaery had better access. " I’m all yours until school on Monday morning." Sansa smiled, letting her fingers trail over Margaery's creamy shoulders.

Margaery released a put out huff, looking at the clock on her bedside table, her face changing into a pondering expression whilst nodding her head back and forth, as though debating with herself. "Yes, that should just about be enough time." She concluded with a wicked grin.

Sansa's eyes went a little wide, a disbelieving little laugh bursting from her lips before they were sealed to Margaery's again.

They carried on kissing for a while, Margaery cupping and squeezing Sansa's breasts before her lips followed closely behind. Sansa sighed each time Margaery's tongue caressed a patch of skin, panted each time teeth scraped along her curves and downright tugged at her hair when Margaery sucked the supple skin into her mouth with a biting kiss.

Margaery's head was getting foggy already and Sansa hadn't even touched her properly yet. 'Not good.' She always liked giving. She supposed she was just a giving type of person. However, she had never before felt like she wanted to dry hump the bedspread in a desperate bid for release when there was a girl right there that she could simply click her fingers to and demand, "My turn!"

There was no harm in going slow though, especially when she kept catching Sansa tensing up at odd moments...and not the good sort of tensing up either. When that happened, she would somewhat plateau what she was doing until Sansa limbs turned to jelly beneath her again.

This strategy was working fine for her until her kisses moved down Sansa's stomach and passed her belly button. Sansa didn't just tense up this time, her hands actually flew to Margaery's shoulders to stop her. "Wait, wait. What are you doing?" Sansa panted, eyes still a little unfocused.

Margaery wasn't really sure what answer Sansa was expecting her to give and because Margaery was a sarcastic bitch, the answer she gave was, "Oh you know, I was just going to put my shoes on, head out and get some iced cream, maybe catch a film?" Sansa didn't laugh. "What do you think I'm doing, Sweet?" Margaery challenged with a small, confused smile.

"Well," Sansa started before letting out an awkward laugh, "I mean, obviously, I know what you were doing. I just mean, don't have to. I know it's not..." Sansa trailed of awkwardly with a bit of an embarrassed look on her face.

"Not what?" Margaery asked bemused, resting her chin between Sansa's hipbones.

"Well…pleasant." Sansa finished, her cheeks now blooming embarrassed red instead of flushed pink.

“Not pleasant?” Margaery asked, sounding aghast even to her own ears.

“Well…I mean…Joffrey never…he always said it was…” Sansa trailed off, her embarrassment now getting to the level that it looked like she wanted to cry.

The one thing about dating your best friend? They know things about you and you know things about them that you may not have necessary revealed to a lover…or at least not right away. For example, she knew that Sansa had only ever had sex with one person, Joffrey Baratheon (’Oh Sweet Girl! Why?), she had never been with another woman in any way, shape or form and, pause for dramatic effect, had never had an orgasm…and now, apparently, that Sansa had never been given oral sex before. Knowing her easily embarrassed, slightly neurotic best friend, she was guessing that Sansa wished she didn’t know these things about her just like she wished that Sansa didn’t know exactly how many women she’d had ‘relations’ with and how much of commitophobe she was. Considering their vast experience differences, Margaery would be lying to herself if she didn’t admit that she felt at least some pressure to make this a phenomenal experience for Sansa.

Margaery just smiled at Sansa reassuringly, sweeping her thumb repeatedly across her folded arms until she could finally look at her and see that it was fine. "Well, I don’t feel that way, okay? At all. The lesbian playbook would be severely diminished if we had an aversion to doing...that." She concluded with a firm kiss to Sansa's lower abdomen, not sure Sansa’s poor heart (or facial capillaries) could take the more direct terminology at the moment. “So…can I?” She asked, ever so politely, running a fingertip over a beauty spot Sansa had on the side of her abdomen.

Sansa closed her eyes and stretched, her joints popping in a familiar, sickening melody that always made Margaery want to gag. ‘I think it is the one and only thing about Sansa that I don’t find a turn on nowadays…give it time though.’ Margaery thought to herself sardonically, feeling a little bit hopeless in her own feelings. “You really want to do it?” Sansa asked, still sounding a bit sceptical, playing with Margaery’s hair slightly.

“I really do, Sans.” Margaery responded, making prolonged eye contact with Sansa to ensure that she wasn’t just listening, she was actually hearing her. “I mean, not to put too fine a point on it or anything but…” Margaery started, tilting her head so that she was looking up at Sansa through her eyelashes, fingers dancing over her waist, “I love doing that. I’ve been thinking of little else for the past month.” Margaery confided, pressing the words directly into Sansa’s hip but she knew Sansa had heard her when her wide, blue eyes dilated significantly, making them look much darker; she knew then that Sansa wanted it too…she was just too shy to seek it. “It’s really getting distracting in class, to be honest. My focus is just gone. And…I suppose, as an educator, you might want to help me get over that? For the sake of my grades!” She implored seriously and Sansa finally cracked and laughed though her eyes remained dark and focus.

“I suppose, in the name of education…” Sansa trailed off with a wry grin and Margaery had to resist the urge to dive in straight away.

‘We’re still going slow. There is still a seduction to all of this that we are enforcing.’ She reminded herself firmly.

She smiled in return and slowly brought her mouth to Sansa’s inner thigh near her knee, placing butterfly kisses there, trailing up and over to the other teasingly, noting Sansa’s squirming hips.

Margaery made sure to keep looking up at Sansa’s face as much as possible, not wanting to miss a second. She hovered her face over Sansa’s heat for a second, purposefully panting out a puff of hot air and Sansa jumped, her mouth opening and throat tightening though no sound escaped.

She closed the distance, placing a kiss to Sansa’s sex, breathing in deeply. When Sansa tensed this time, it was the good kind of tensing. Margaery proceeded, going straight to the small bundle of nerves at the top of Sansa’s opening, alternating her tongue between being pointed and flat, giving light and heavy touches, quick and languid strokes. Sansa’s hands went to Margaery’s head after a while and Margaery thought she was going to move her in some way, pull her in so her touches would be firmer, or even push her away but she did neither, just rested her hands on the crown of her head, running Margaery’s hair reverently through her fingers. Sansa looked down at her then, her face taut but eyes smiling, hair in disarray and skin still flushed wonderfully. The sweet gesture made a peculiar heat run up the back of Margaery’s spine and in an attempt to distract herself, she moved forward and sucked Sansa’s clitoris into her mouth, holding it between her lips as her tongue worked in a frenzy over it for a moment before she purposefully let out a low, rumbling moan. Sansa eyes closed at that and her head fell back, mouth open in a silent scream, one of her hands leaving Margaery’s hair to rest on her own, tugging at the red strands tightly, treating them much harsher than she had treated Margaery’s own.

Margaery struggled to not close her eyes in pleasure at the taste, the smell, the sounds; everything about that moment. Margaery moved her head downwards slightly and slipped her tongue firmly into Sansa’s opening, making her squeak and squirm, the first noise she’d really made since Margaery had begun her ministrations. Sansa’s legs shifted, her feet lifting to rest along Margaery’s back before the strength she was exerting pinned Margaery to the bed with a light, unexpected huff. Sansa’s fingers were not in her hair anymore, now clutching painfully tight to the bedspread, eyes closed and face turned upwards. Margaery continued to move her tongue in and out of Sansa at a merciless pace, the hand that she had had on Sansa’s hip moving further inwards so that her thumb could continue to work over Sansa’s excited clit. She hadn’t even gotten her fingers inside of Sansa yet but it felt like this was working for her and she was close so Margaery continued, pressing, rubbing, stroking until Sansa’s muscles began clenching in the undeniable sequence of orgasm. Her hips pushed forward despite Margaery’s firm hold, her back arched off of the bed and her throat muscles clenched tightly, imprisoning the sound of her release.

Around ten seconds later and Sansa slumped heavily to the bed panting. Margaery would be lying if she said she didn’t feel a bit smug about it. ‘I managed to achieve in one afternoon what Joffrey Baratheon couldn’t achieve in three years! Shocker!’ Margaery thought to herself rather viciously. Sansa looked gloriously dishevelled, still gasping, and seemed more than a little surprised, her mouth in a perfect O and eyes wide, looking every bit the Tully Trout.

“Wow.” She choked out, fanning the flames of Margaery’s ego fire. “I mean, oh my gods.” She carded her fingers through her own hair then looked down at Margaery who was in the process of smiling whilst licking her lips, making Sansa’s eyes dilate and causing her to spring into action.

Sansa seemed to have gotten over her previous ‘aversion’ because before Margaery had even managed to gulp down a breath, she was being pulled upwards by Sansa's insistent hands, Sansa's tongue pushing into Margaery's mouth and moaning softly. She had about three seconds to acclimatise to the feeling before Sansa flipped them, rolling Margaery over and hovering over her on the bed, looking near feral and every bit a wolf, the imagery only intensified by the fact that Sansa sank her teeth harshly into the flesh of Margaery’s neck.

“Ah!” Margaery let out a surprised groan as Sansa’s hand also came up to knead her left breast. “I thought we said no neck-biting.” She chastised unconvincingly, tilting her head to the side.

“No.” Sansa panted, licking the reddened skin. “I said you couldn’t bite my neck because it didn’t go with my proper, prudish teacher-image’. You, however, are an artiste and looking thoroughly ravished helps add to your ‘mysterious, life-loving, ‘I don’t give a crap’-visage’.”

Margaery hummed happily in response. “Anyone who would call you ‘prudish’ really has no clue, do they?” She asked with a smile.

Sansa got up on all fours, and met Margaery’s gaze, looking immensely pleased with the statement. Sansa carried on looking down at her for a moment, her eyes moving back and forth clearly assessing and planning her next move when the wolf morphed back into a scared little bird, eyes uncertain and self-conscious again.

"I want to..." Sansa started, eyes staring between Margaery's legs and licking her lips, making Margaery shiver. "I just...don't know..." She trailed off, uncertain, letting out a groan of frustration and looking annoyed with herself so Margaery spoke quickly.

"It's okay. No need to walk before you run." Margaery soothed, still slightly out of breath as she ran her hands over Sansa's thighs.

Sansa nodded for a moment, cheeks still sporting a charming pink when her forehead scrunched adorably. "Wait, what?" She asked, her tone confused.

Margaery played back the words and realised her error. "I mean, 'run before you walk'. Sorry, you've frazzled my brain a bit." Sansa smirked at that. "I'm not going to lie, I'm just going to need you to touch me in some way or another. Anyway at all." Sansa averted her eyes and smiled again. "I mean, preferably not a pat on the head but, honestly, at this point, I think that I could make it work for me." Margaery joked, making Sansa laugh. She leaned in quickly and pressed a kiss to Margaery's forehead and Margaery thought it was ridiculous that such a simple gesture could make Margaery's breath catch in her chest. She managed to get the smitten look off of her face before Sansa leaned back again, straddling Margaery's hips, arms twitching as though she wanted to cover herself.

"So...what should I do?" Sansa asked shyly.

'What a beautiful question.' Margaery thought to herself. She was thinking how best to broach this. When Merry had come out last year, she'd confided in Margaery that it had taken her awhile to build up to giving oral sex because it was just so different to anything she'd done with a guy but it was less nerve wracking to do mutual masturbation because you could kind of pretend you were doing it to yourself. “And I’m really good at that.” Margaery remembered her saying at the time. Margaery lifted her hands to Sansa’s thighs, stroking along them with a petal soft caress. "Do you ever...touch yourself, Sans?" She tried to make the question sound casual but Sansa’s face flamed again. 'She's going to pass out soon if her face keeps changing from pink to red and back again at such a startling rate.' Margaery thought to herself, genuinely concerned.

"" Sansa replied, shaking her head slightly.

"That's okay!" Margaery rushed in at the look of failure on her face. "We can...go slow?" She broached carefully.

“Okay.” Sansa agreed with a smile, looking reassured. “I kind of thought you were asking that because…you wanted me to put on a ‘show’ for you or something.”

Margaery laughed long and hard at that; booming, free laughter that she thought terribly unattractive on her, therefore never allowed herself to do it whilst in bed with someone. “I don’t think that would be ‘running before you can walk’, I think that would be more like ‘tap-dancing before you can crawl’.”

Sansa was trying very hard not to smile at the teasing but failing marvellously.

“So,” Margaery started, smile still in place, “how do you want to…”

“Just a sec.” Sansa interrupted with a smirk, leaning down with a mock vengeful look and taking Margaery’s left nipple into her mouth with no preamble. Margaery choked on her mirth, shocked at Sansa’s brazenness.

“Mmmmmm…” Sansa moaned around her nipple, making Margaery’s eyes roll back in her head slightly, before she released it with a pop, sitting back and smiling a shy but victorious smile. “I’ve wanted to do that for ages.” She confessed with a small shrug of her shoulders.

“Well it’s a travesty that it’s not happened before now then. I don’t care if we’re here in bed, watching TV on the sofa or in the middle of the queue in Starbucks, if you feel the urge again, you feel free to do it. We might be banned from Starbucks for life but it would be totally worth it!” Margaery enthused genuinely.

“Whoa.” Sansa replied with an impressed smile. “The Caffeine Fiend would risk getting a ban from Starbucks for that? You must have quite enjoyed it?” She asked teasingly but still looking to Margaery eagerly, waiting for an answer.

“Dorne is a tad warm.” Margaery replied, loving Sansa’s confused expression as she stroked her hair. “Wine is a pleasant beverage. I do not enjoy the gym. These are other major understatements, similar in scale to the statement you just made.”

Sansa guffawed at that, leaning in to capture the other nipple without a word.

‘I don’t ever think I’ve ever talked this much during sex.’ Margaery observed casually, arching her back slightly as Sansa brought her wolf teeth into the equation. ‘I mean, there’s been dirty talk before but that’s not really talking, it’s more like…saying stuff. Having a conversation with someone in between kisses and caresses and nibbles is a bit strange…but oddly enjoyable. All the genuine smiling, laughing and eye contact is also throwing me a bit.’

Margaery looked down at Sansa who was smiling happily with her breast in her mouth, eyes closed, seemingly savouring it and that was Margaery’s limit. She threaded her fingers through Sansa’s hair to pull her upwards and capture her mouth again. ‘Apparently, four minutes is long enough to get withdrawals.’

She hooked her fingers around the back of Sansa’s thighs, trailed them up and around to her hips, pressing her thumb to her clit again. Sansa moaned into her mouth and gripped her hip harshly.

“Is it totally lame if I just copy what you do?” Sansa panted against her open mouth, fingers trailing down Margaery’s front eagerly.

“No. It’s like a sexy mirror.” Margaery gasped in reply, sweeping her fingers through Sansa’s hair. Sansa’s mouth morphed into a smile for a second before her jaw tightened at the continued motion of Margaery’s thumb.

Margaery just leisurely ran a finger up and down along her slit for a moment, easing her into ‘Round Two’. Sansa did the exact same thing but softer. ‘Maybe even too soft?’ Margaery thought to herself guiltily, making her own strokes firmer which, thankfully, Sansa also imitated.

Sansa was still wet from Margaery’s earlier ministrations so her index finger slipped inside of her easily, making Sansa’s eyes roll back comically into her head. It was a long tense moment (for Margaery) where Sansa closed her eyes, leaning her face on the pillow next to Margaery’s head, seemingly forgetting their tit-for-tat until Margaery bucked her hips pointedly and Sansa seemed to come out of her stupor and slowly eased a finger into Margaery in return.

“Yes, Sans.” Margaery hissed out happily, pushing her hips into Sansa’s hand harder impulsively.

Her touch on Sansa was firm and confident, as it always was but Sansa’s was, unsurprisingly, a little more hesitant. Despite the fact that she was copying Margaery perfectly, pressing where she was pressing, twisting her fingers just so and reaching, reaching further than Margaery could with her own digits yet she would only do these things for a brief moment unless Margaery gave her some sort of audio cue to tell her that it was ‘right’.

The experience of the ‘Sex-Mirror’ was new to her and strange because this was an exploration for her, to see what Sansa liked and responded to but Margaery also knew what she herself liked and they didn’t necessarily line up so she was genuinely stuck between prioritising making Sansa feel good and giving herself release.

Sansa had just copied a firmer thrust into Margaery which made Margaery shiver and pull Sansa’s head down to kiss her passionately when Sansa’s hand, unthinkingly, stopped altogether, clearly not having mastered multi-tasking in this field just yet. Margaery mewled in loss and Sansa seemed to remember herself, moving her hand again, a valiant effort but slightly less coordinated than before as she tried to hold Margaery’s kiss. ‘Another priority debate.’ Margaery bemoaned to herself, trying to decide which aspect she should encourage Sansa in when Sansa appeared to become annoyed at herself, pulling her lips away from Margaery, brow pinched and resting against her own, putting all of her focus into the movement of her hand. Interesting to note, when Sansa put all of her focus into something, it came with a myriad of facial expressions; she couldn’t gesticulate with her hands at the moment so her emotions were lathered across her face thick like honey. If Margaery had to describe it, it would have to be that look people got when they were blindly digging into their purse or wallet to grab change; eyes off to the side, one squinting and tongue poking out slightly. Margaery had to bite her lip to stop her smile, knowing that Sansa would hate the fact that Margaery thought her stumbling focus adorably endearing.

‘Maybe this was a little too difficult a strategy for our first go; to synchronise like this?’ She thought to herself, slightly critically and a bit annoyed with herself at seeing Sansa’s face which kept pinching in frustration as she would catch herself losing her rhythm by being distracted by Margaery’s kiss or touch. ‘Okay, 100%!’ She pepped herself before going in for the kill.

Her left hand, which had been stroking Sansa’s upper arm encouragingly was now pressed firmly to Sansa’s breast, thumbnail scraping ever so slowly over Sansa’s erect nipple while her other hand worked faster inside of the younger girl. Sansa breathed out loudly and her hips nearly crashed down completely against Margaery’s before her joints stabilised. “Ah, Marg.” She whispered harshly, her own hand having stopped completely, her eyes rolling around drunkenly in her head like someone trying to stay awake after three days without sleep. “I can’t, I can’t focus…”


“But I want you to…” Sansa started to argue, looking like she was struggling to breathe slightly.

“I will…after.” Margaery pressed into her neck confidently and knew Sansa had fully relented when she turned her own face into Margaery’s neck and she felt Sansa’s eyelashes flutter against her skin as they closed in acceptance.

Margaery had gotten a good feel for what Sansa liked from her initial investigation so it didn’t seem like too long at all after the coordinated double attack began that Sansa groaned a soft release into Margaery’s neck, whimpering as it went on and on, longer than the first, before she full on collapsed on top of Margaery, boneless.

Margaery could hardly wait a second before she whined, “Sansa, please don’t stop touching me.”

Sansa’s blue eyes became alert again and she got shakily back up onto her knees, though now she didn’t have to hover quite so high above Margaery to make room for both of their exploring touches. Margaery wasted no time, grabbing Sansa’s hand and forcing it to her own breast, curling her fingers so that Sansa’s would do the same as the finger on Sansa’s other hand pressed easily inside Margaery once again. “Another finger.” Margaery demanded imperiously. Sansa bit her lip and did as Margaery requested, making the older girl's back arch slightly. “Kiss me.” Margaery ordered and, again, Sansa obeyed without thought, eagerly leaning in to press her mouth harshly to Margaery’s. Margaery twisted Sansa’s hand a tad so that she could press her thumb into Sansa’s thumb, pushing that into her clit and begun to teach Sansa how to play her body like an exquisite instrument, just so.

To her credit, Sansa seemed less distracted than she had before without Margaery’s attentions focused on her whilst trying to retain her own. Sansa’s face was tense now, a competitive, determined edge to it that Margaery had seen many times over the years, most notably, before she was about to compete at something. ‘I don’t know who she thinks she’s fucking competing with but I don’t care, it’s glorious!’

With Margaery’s literal helping hands, all hesitancy had evaporated from Sansa’s touch and Margaery was close. “Sans! Sansa!” She called out though Sansa was right there, face so close that she could kiss her, so she did. As she came, she pushed her yells of exaltation directly into Sansa’s open mouth. “Ah! Ah, gods!” Her body arched off of the bed like a taught bow and held for the duration of her climax before her spine collapsed, turning into liquid.

Margaery just panted for a moment, saying nothing, eyes closed but feeling Sansa’s face still close to her own, warm puffs of air grazing down her jaw and neck as well as the light caress of Sansa’s eyelashes on her skin again, this time across the bridge of her nose.

When she opened her eyes, she was expecting Sansa to look as smug as Margaery had felt earlier, maybe even more so considering the fact that Sansa was a less than gracious winner. However, when her eyelids fluttered open, Sansa just looked at her intensely, eyes deep and boring into her, a strange little quirk to her mouth though it was not defined enough to call it a smile.

Margaery felt like speaking would ruin the magnitude of the moment so just swept the hair out of Sansa’s face and slowly pressed forward, giving her what was easily the most hesitant kiss she had given Sansa yet. The most hesitant kiss she had ever gifted Sansa was returned by the slowest, deepest kiss that Sansa had ever given her. The kiss seemed to go on forever, in a good way; unending.

At least, it would have been unending if oxygen wasn’t a factor. Margaery was the one who had just had an orgasm so she was the one to cave first, pulling away, though not too far, gulping in air like she had been submerged in water.

“Wow.” She slipped out mindlessly, echoing Sansa’s first word after her own initial release, breaking the intense atmosphere by making Sansa smile widely and giggle.

“Yeah.” Was all she said in return.

Margaery pressed a quick peck to Sansa’s lips before she threw herself back down, higher up on the bed now, near the plush pillows, stretching contently and burrowing under the sheets as her sweat soaked skin started to feel a bit clammy. Sansa followed, falling to Margaery’s left, slipping under the covers and turning on her side to face Margaery. Margaery tried not to pout as Sansa’s skin was suddenly shielded by the offending fabric. ‘Stupid sheet.’ Margaery thought petulantly. Sansa smiled for a long time before she started to fidget and her face began to pinch. Margaery wondered about it for about half a second before she realised. “Shoulder?” She asked simply.

“Yeah.” Sansa droned in response, sitting up to rub it slightly before rolling over onto her left side. “I really shouldn’t lie on it.” She stated of her previous sporting injury, now speaking to the wall. “Do you want to swap sides?” She threw over her aching shoulder.

Margaery grimaced a bit and unthinkingly argued, “But…this is my side.”

She considered apologising immediately, feeling infinitely selfish considering she knew how bad Sansa’s shoulder was for her at times. “I know.” Sansa groaned. “This is my side too.” Margaery was ridiculously pleased by the confession; having only ever seen Sansa sleep in a single bed, this was new information to her and it thrilled her, for some reason, to learn that they were compatible in this regard. “But I don’t know…”

“How about,” Margaery started with her solution-brain switched on, “we just do this.” She finished, cuddling into Sansa’s back, spooning her from behind whilst nuzzling her nose into her neck.

Sansa fidgeted a little bit, testing the new position. “Yeah?” She asked. “This is okay for you?”

Margaery leaned back and pulled the sheets up, taking a good look at Sansa’s bare arse in the muted light under the thin sheets. “Yeah, I’m good.” She replied easily, letting the sheets drop and snuggling back into her warm body, making Sansa laugh heartily, as she knew it would.

They lay there for a while, just cuddled up together silently, breathing in synchronicity as they watched the dust motes dance in the sunlight.

Margaery was glad it was actually the afternoon so she didn’t do her typical ‘guy-move’ of rolling over and falling asleep right after she ‘got hers’; that’s why she liked to get a couple of good licks in with someone first…pun intended.

She kissed the back of Sansa’s wounded shoulder softly and continued to stroke her hand along Sansa’s outstretched arm as far as she could reach before returning it lazily back along its previous path.

“Sans?” Margaery finally ventured after a long, comfortable silence.

“Mmmmm?” Sansa moaned in acknowledgement and, though Margaery couldn’t see her face, she swore she could still hear the smile in it.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” She asked bluntly and without thought.

Sansa turned slightly, rolling onto her back and looking directly into Margaery’s eyes, raising her eyebrows. “This is awkward; I kind of thought I already was.” Sansa replied, tensing noticeably, her poor cheeks filling with colour yet again after their short reprieve.

Margaery continued smiling, thinking that she should have already guessed that that was how Sansa’s mind worked. ‘If you tongue-kiss someone on two or more separate occasions, with no alcohol involved, then you are automatically a couple.’ She could hear the Northerner’s soft voice reciting it clear as a bell in her head. “I think you are too.” Margaery smiled, looking back on the last thirty-three days (‘Not counting!’) and thinking it classic dating behaviour…or maybe it was just doing the same things that they had been doing before, now just with a sexual element. Either way, the world ‘girlfriend’ didn’t make her feel nauseous for the first time in a long time. “However, I am a Lady and it would not do to presume such things without formally asking. So,” She started, holding Sansa’s hand, bringing her fingers to Margaery’s lips, “would you do me the honour?”

Sansa smiled wide again and flushed so becomingly. ‘How can she still be blushing after everything we just did?!’ Margaery thought to herself, flummoxed. “Well, I’m not the type of girl to have sex with someone whom I’m not in a relationship with, so for the sake of propriety and my reputation, I think I’d best say ‘yes’.”

“Yes, you’d best. Reputation is very important for those in the field of teaching.” Margaery played along, leaning in closely and placing an intense yet relaxed kiss on her lips. Margaery looked Sansa up and down in all her bed wrinkled glory and shook her head wryly at herself. “You’re going to absolutely ruin me, Stark.” She stated casually yet with resignation in her voice. ‘And I simply cannot wait.’ She tacked on silently in her head, a rueful smile blooming on her lips.