fic: yes, this is my life and yes, you should care
Title: yes, this is my life and yes, you should care
Author: thefreshapple
Genre and/or Pairing: Theon/Sansa
Word Count: 1,500
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: First time (Sansa's), arranged marriage, oral
Summary: For this prompt at the kinkmeme.
Disclaimer: So, so not mine.
Notes: AU: let’s pretend Ned Stark came back from King’s Landing and decided Sansa was NOT to marry Joffrey. So he decided to form an alliance with the Iron Islands.
His eyes were the color of the sea, she realized - green and grey and blue.
“Look, I know you’ve probably heard whisperings. Scullery maids probably told you some pretty terrible things about me.”
He put his hand on her hip. She could feel his warmth through her dress and it steadied her a little. She swallowed hard. “I’ve seen you and Robb come back from the village. I know that you do ...things w-with women.”
He sighed again, reaching across her to put his other hand on her other hip. He pulled her in close to him, spreading his knees so she could step between. His hands were large on her hips, reaching around, nearing impropriety.
Not impropriety, Sansa’s brain reminded her. Not now that he’s your husband.
Theon looked up at her again and his eyes shone in the firelight. “You’re beautiful, you know? More beautiful than any other woman I’ve ever seen.” He pulled her to him, pressing his forehead against her belly.
She gasped at his touch. It wasn’t the romantic, chivalrous love she had dreamed of, but she had seen her father do the same to her mother on occasion, when they thought no one was watching. She found her fingers twining in her hair, just as her mother would do.
Theon’s shoulders shook, and his arms wrapped around her, hands spanning across her back. “I won’t hurt you,” he mumbled against her stomach. “I wouldn’t ever dare.”
Sansa’s heart thudded so hard in her chest, she wondered if he could feel it. Slowly, she pulled away from him, stepping out of his embrace.
Her hands shook as she smoothed down the front of her dress. “I need you to help me,” she said. Her voice was weak, but he stood so quickly, she half-expected him to fall over.
She turned to face the fire, praying to the Mother for strength. This was her duty now, and she’d be good at it, gods help her.
She felt Theon’s fingers brush her hair aside, trailing down her neck. She vividly felt each button on the back of her dress come undone, and pressed her arms against her front, unsure again.
A soft breath against the back of her neck was all the warning she had before Theon’s lips pressed a wet kiss into her skin. He made a path down her spine and her skin burned deliciously.
She let him come around and face her, let him pull her arms from her front and slip her dress off her shoulders to pool on the floor. She stood in her shift, eyes downcast.
Fingers under her chin got her to raise her gaze until they were looking at each other. She had never had someone look at her with so much heat, especially not Joffrey, and it made her skin crawl.
“I won’t hurt you.” Stepping forward into her breathing space, Theon gathered her into his arms and pressed a light kiss to her lips.
Sansa gasped at the suddenness of the kiss, and found herself with a mouthful of tongue. It was warm and wet, slippery, and tasted of ale and venison. She didn’t know what to do with her hands until his hands guided her arms around his neck. Her fingers went back into his hair, twining in sandy strands and tugging lightly.
Theon moaned into her mouth and pressed against her insistently. Sansa felt something hard against her thigh and went hot all over.
The back of her knees hit the bed and she fell backwards, landing on soft furs. She hadn’t even realized they were moving.
He stood above her, chest heaving, hair tousled. In a strange way, Sansa thought, he looked handsome. The idea left her stunned - she had never considered Theon handsome.
“Lie back,” he said throatily, reaching down to tug off his boots. They thumped loudly on the floor.
Sansa didn’t move. “What are you going to do?”
Without answering, he crawled over her, kissing her again. This time, she tried to reciprocate, finding that if she turned her head, their lips fit more comfortably. She was starting to enjoy kissing when she felt a hand on her thigh.
She pulled her mouth away. “What are you doing?” She scrambled away from him, backing against the wall.
Theon just smiled and came after her. “Lie back, Sansa. I’m going to relax you.”
“Relax me? How?” His hand was back on her thigh and Sansa’s heart felt like it was going to leap out of her throat.
Theon sighed. Sansa could hear his annoyance in that sigh. “Lie back.”
She did as he said, closing her eyes to shut out everything but the sounds of the fire, the soft howl of the wind around the eaves - and Theon shifting above her.
She felt a sudden chill around her lower stomach and maiden space, and Theon’s hands on her thighs, spreading them. For one wild moment, she thought he would take her right then, plowing into her like some of the scullery maids whispered about when they thought no one could hear.
Instead, she felt a gust on her thigh, like the one she had felt on her neck, and then the soft touch of a tongue to that place between her legs.
“Oh!” Her back arched without her permission, her hands flying to twist in Theon’s hair. He flicked his tongue against a spot and her legs shook. Fire raced through her, sparking behind her eyelids. She felt a rush of warmth down there, and heard wet noises as Theon lapped it all away. Her teeth bit down on her lip so hard she thought she’d drawn blood, and her eyes rolled back as Theon flicked his tongue again.
Too soon, it seemed, he was crawling over her again, kissing her. He tasted strange, heady and different than anything she had ever experienced. She boldly licked his chin, tasting.
He let out a surprised laugh. “Like the taste of yourself, do you?”
Sansa could feel her face flush. “I don’t know,” she said meekly. “Do you?”
He stared down at her, amazed. Without answering, he pressed his face into her neck, licking and sucking at the skin that stretched between her throat and shoulder.
Theon shifted and Sansa saw one hand fumbling for the laces at his breeches. She felt dizzy.
He kissed her again. “We’ll go slowly, yeah?” He waited for her nod before he grinned, pushing his breeches down and Sansa sees his cock between his legs, heavy and full. Red with blood.
He ducked his head, following her gaze. When he looked up at her, his eyes were mischievous. “Suppose I’m the first you’ve seen.”
She nodded, trying not to let her fear show. She had heard of the pain that comes with the maidenhead’s break, and it terrified her - she wasn’t like Arya, unafraid of all but the worst pain. She tended to faint at even a little blood.
He positioned himself between her spread knees, holding her open. “I’ll go slowly,” was all the warning she got before he began to push in.
It felt too big, and Sansa felt like she’d break. She let out a high, keening wail at the pain.
He silenced her with another kiss, distracting her while he pushed, pushed - and she broke.
Sansa’s back arched in pain. Her arms came up across his back, her nails drawing lines across his flesh.
To her surprise, Theon moaned, his hips stuttering. “Do that again,” he panted into her ear. Sansa did, and his whole body shook.
This newfound power distracted her from the dull throb where his cock entered her, and she leaned up, kissed him for the first time that evening.
Slowly, giving her time to adjust, Theon moved his hips back and forth, sliding in and out of her with little problem. Sansa realized that she must have slicked for him, and the thought warmed her. Her mind might not have been ready for him, but her body seemed to be.
It lasted longer than she expected, but soon Theon cried out and shook. Sansa felt something warm spurt inside her, and it made her quiver. Before she could push him away and clean herself up, Theon pressed a thumb to that spot within her, that spot he had teased so perfectly with her tongue. Sansa felt her entire body seize with pleasure, and in a matter of moments, Theon held her as she shattered.
He rolled off of her, slinging his arm over her stomach. Sansa shifted her thighs, feeling. She definitely ached, but it was satisfying. She smiled, small and private.
Next to her, Theon chuckled. When she looked at him, he was watching her with his sea-eyes. “As bad as you worried?” he asked softly, pressing a wet kiss to her shoulder.
Sansa bit her lip and shook her head. No, she thought. Not as bad as she had worried at all.
Author: thefreshapple
Genre and/or Pairing: Theon/Sansa
Word Count: 1,500
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: First time (Sansa's), arranged marriage, oral
Summary: For this prompt at the kinkmeme.
Disclaimer: So, so not mine.
Notes: AU: let’s pretend Ned Stark came back from King’s Landing and decided Sansa was NOT to marry Joffrey. So he decided to form an alliance with the Iron Islands.
His eyes were the color of the sea, she realized - green and grey and blue.
“Look, I know you’ve probably heard whisperings. Scullery maids probably told you some pretty terrible things about me.”
He put his hand on her hip. She could feel his warmth through her dress and it steadied her a little. She swallowed hard. “I’ve seen you and Robb come back from the village. I know that you do ...things w-with women.”
He sighed again, reaching across her to put his other hand on her other hip. He pulled her in close to him, spreading his knees so she could step between. His hands were large on her hips, reaching around, nearing impropriety.
Not impropriety, Sansa’s brain reminded her. Not now that he’s your husband.
Theon looked up at her again and his eyes shone in the firelight. “You’re beautiful, you know? More beautiful than any other woman I’ve ever seen.” He pulled her to him, pressing his forehead against her belly.
She gasped at his touch. It wasn’t the romantic, chivalrous love she had dreamed of, but she had seen her father do the same to her mother on occasion, when they thought no one was watching. She found her fingers twining in her hair, just as her mother would do.
Theon’s shoulders shook, and his arms wrapped around her, hands spanning across her back. “I won’t hurt you,” he mumbled against her stomach. “I wouldn’t ever dare.”
Sansa’s heart thudded so hard in her chest, she wondered if he could feel it. Slowly, she pulled away from him, stepping out of his embrace.
Her hands shook as she smoothed down the front of her dress. “I need you to help me,” she said. Her voice was weak, but he stood so quickly, she half-expected him to fall over.
She turned to face the fire, praying to the Mother for strength. This was her duty now, and she’d be good at it, gods help her.
She felt Theon’s fingers brush her hair aside, trailing down her neck. She vividly felt each button on the back of her dress come undone, and pressed her arms against her front, unsure again.
A soft breath against the back of her neck was all the warning she had before Theon’s lips pressed a wet kiss into her skin. He made a path down her spine and her skin burned deliciously.
She let him come around and face her, let him pull her arms from her front and slip her dress off her shoulders to pool on the floor. She stood in her shift, eyes downcast.
Fingers under her chin got her to raise her gaze until they were looking at each other. She had never had someone look at her with so much heat, especially not Joffrey, and it made her skin crawl.
“I won’t hurt you.” Stepping forward into her breathing space, Theon gathered her into his arms and pressed a light kiss to her lips.
Sansa gasped at the suddenness of the kiss, and found herself with a mouthful of tongue. It was warm and wet, slippery, and tasted of ale and venison. She didn’t know what to do with her hands until his hands guided her arms around his neck. Her fingers went back into his hair, twining in sandy strands and tugging lightly.
Theon moaned into her mouth and pressed against her insistently. Sansa felt something hard against her thigh and went hot all over.
The back of her knees hit the bed and she fell backwards, landing on soft furs. She hadn’t even realized they were moving.
He stood above her, chest heaving, hair tousled. In a strange way, Sansa thought, he looked handsome. The idea left her stunned - she had never considered Theon handsome.
“Lie back,” he said throatily, reaching down to tug off his boots. They thumped loudly on the floor.
Sansa didn’t move. “What are you going to do?”
Without answering, he crawled over her, kissing her again. This time, she tried to reciprocate, finding that if she turned her head, their lips fit more comfortably. She was starting to enjoy kissing when she felt a hand on her thigh.
She pulled her mouth away. “What are you doing?” She scrambled away from him, backing against the wall.
Theon just smiled and came after her. “Lie back, Sansa. I’m going to relax you.”
“Relax me? How?” His hand was back on her thigh and Sansa’s heart felt like it was going to leap out of her throat.
Theon sighed. Sansa could hear his annoyance in that sigh. “Lie back.”
She did as he said, closing her eyes to shut out everything but the sounds of the fire, the soft howl of the wind around the eaves - and Theon shifting above her.
She felt a sudden chill around her lower stomach and maiden space, and Theon’s hands on her thighs, spreading them. For one wild moment, she thought he would take her right then, plowing into her like some of the scullery maids whispered about when they thought no one could hear.
Instead, she felt a gust on her thigh, like the one she had felt on her neck, and then the soft touch of a tongue to that place between her legs.
“Oh!” Her back arched without her permission, her hands flying to twist in Theon’s hair. He flicked his tongue against a spot and her legs shook. Fire raced through her, sparking behind her eyelids. She felt a rush of warmth down there, and heard wet noises as Theon lapped it all away. Her teeth bit down on her lip so hard she thought she’d drawn blood, and her eyes rolled back as Theon flicked his tongue again.
Too soon, it seemed, he was crawling over her again, kissing her. He tasted strange, heady and different than anything she had ever experienced. She boldly licked his chin, tasting.
He let out a surprised laugh. “Like the taste of yourself, do you?”
Sansa could feel her face flush. “I don’t know,” she said meekly. “Do you?”
He stared down at her, amazed. Without answering, he pressed his face into her neck, licking and sucking at the skin that stretched between her throat and shoulder.
Theon shifted and Sansa saw one hand fumbling for the laces at his breeches. She felt dizzy.
He kissed her again. “We’ll go slowly, yeah?” He waited for her nod before he grinned, pushing his breeches down and Sansa sees his cock between his legs, heavy and full. Red with blood.
He ducked his head, following her gaze. When he looked up at her, his eyes were mischievous. “Suppose I’m the first you’ve seen.”
She nodded, trying not to let her fear show. She had heard of the pain that comes with the maidenhead’s break, and it terrified her - she wasn’t like Arya, unafraid of all but the worst pain. She tended to faint at even a little blood.
He positioned himself between her spread knees, holding her open. “I’ll go slowly,” was all the warning she got before he began to push in.
It felt too big, and Sansa felt like she’d break. She let out a high, keening wail at the pain.
He silenced her with another kiss, distracting her while he pushed, pushed - and she broke.
Sansa’s back arched in pain. Her arms came up across his back, her nails drawing lines across his flesh.
To her surprise, Theon moaned, his hips stuttering. “Do that again,” he panted into her ear. Sansa did, and his whole body shook.
This newfound power distracted her from the dull throb where his cock entered her, and she leaned up, kissed him for the first time that evening.
Slowly, giving her time to adjust, Theon moved his hips back and forth, sliding in and out of her with little problem. Sansa realized that she must have slicked for him, and the thought warmed her. Her mind might not have been ready for him, but her body seemed to be.
It lasted longer than she expected, but soon Theon cried out and shook. Sansa felt something warm spurt inside her, and it made her quiver. Before she could push him away and clean herself up, Theon pressed a thumb to that spot within her, that spot he had teased so perfectly with her tongue. Sansa felt her entire body seize with pleasure, and in a matter of moments, Theon held her as she shattered.
He rolled off of her, slinging his arm over her stomach. Sansa shifted her thighs, feeling. She definitely ached, but it was satisfying. She smiled, small and private.
Next to her, Theon chuckled. When she looked at him, he was watching her with his sea-eyes. “As bad as you worried?” he asked softly, pressing a wet kiss to her shoulder.
Sansa bit her lip and shook her head. No, she thought. Not as bad as she had worried at all.