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You'd Be Surprised - Game of Thrones - Podrick Payne/Sansa Stark
Title: You'd Be Surprised
Fandom: Game of Thrones
Characters/Pairing: Podrick Payne/Sansa Stark, Brienne of Tarth, Arya Stark
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 1480
Summary: Sansa wants to gain some more experience. Brienne suggests Podrick as a solution.
A/N: For the Songfic Challenge at LJ's 1_million_words community
“Sometimes I wish I had more, or at least, better experiences with men,” Sansa said.
“There are several who have asked after you. I'm sure you could make an advantageous match if you so desired,” Brienne replied.
“I'm not looking for someone who's in it for an advantageous match.”
“She's looking for sex,” laughed Arya.
“Sometimes I wonder why I allowed you to come back here.”
“Because I'm your sister, that's why. And you missed me,” Arya batted her eyes at Sansa.
Sansa gave her a shove, “Oh, stop.”
“Why don't you ask Pod?” Brienne suggested.
“Ask Pod what?”
“For assistance. With your...” Brienne waved a hand in the air. “...plight.”
“Pod? Podrick Payne?” Sansa asked.
“Yes. He's quite... capable.”
“I'm more adept with a sword than he is,” scoffed Arya.
“How did you come by this knowledge, Ser Brienne? Have you and he...?”
“By the Seven, no! I've heard talk. First in Kings Landing, then certain towns along the road, then here.”
“Perhaps coin has crossed their hands,” reasoned Arya.
“I've heard that the only coin that has crossed hands has been to his in hopes for a return engagement.”
“Surely you jest. The man can barely string a sentence together around me.”
“You make him nervous, my Queen.”
“It is actually better sometimes if they don't talk,” said Arya.
Sansa shot her sister a sideways glance. Arya must have picked up a few lovers during her travels. She didn't think it was very fair that Arya had eclipsed her in this aspect of their lives.
“I can mention it to him if you're uncomfortable,” Brienne suggested.
Sansa gave a curt nod and Brienne left the room.
“Podrick Payne has rarely said a word to me,” Arya mused.
“Maybe he's afraid you'd run him through if he does.”
Arya grinned. “Probably. Perhaps I should speak to him as well.”
“No. Do not. For all his... idiosyncrasies, I trust Podrick not to hurt me. There aren't many I could say that about.”
“Alright, Sansa. Just know I'll want details of the event after you've done the deed.”
Later that night, Sansa was brushing out her hair before bed when there came a light tap against her door. “Come in,” she called out.
The door opened and Podrick stepped inside, letting it close behind him but moving no further into the room. “Ser Brienne said... that...”
Sansa decided to let him off the hook. “Yes, Podrick. I would like your assistance.”
“It will be my honor, but, my lady Queen, you could have any man you wished.”
“That is true.” She stood up from the chair near the fire where she'd sat. “Would you help me unfasten my gown?”
“As you wish.” He moved closer to Sansa. He lifted a hand to her hair, letting his fingers drift over it. “Your hair is lovely.” He didn't tug on it or wrap it around his hand, just gave it the lightest ghost of a caress before grazing his fingers across her collarbone.
“Thank you.”
“As are your breasts, I imagine. I don't mean I've imagined you without clothes. Well, that would be a falsehood, one would have to be dead not to imagine you without clothes and I am certainly not dead. I don't think you'd want to do this with a dead man. I imagine that would be rather difficult and, well, defeat the purpose, so to speak. Unless you were just seeking sexual pleasure. There are ways that a woman could do that without the company of a man and I would be happy to tell you those if...”
“Podrick.”
“I do like it when you say my name, my lady Queen.”
She felt his hands against the bare skin of her stomach and realized that when he was babbling, he was also following his request to undress her.
“Nicely done,” she said, smiling at him. “You need to catch up.”
He pulled his shirt over his head and unfastened his trousers. Her eyes widened at the sight of his cock and then she let out an involuntary giggle, thinking that Ramsey would have felt woefully inadequate by comparison.
“Are you nervous?” he asked gently.
“No,” Sansa lied. “You?”
He picked his clothing up from where it fell on the floor and began to fold it. “You outrank every woman I've ever been with in this way.” He set the clothing on a chair and walked back over to her.
“You may not outrank my suitors, but you're a better man, Podrick.”
“May I help you out of your gown, my Queen?”
Sansa nodded and Podrick moved behind her, holding the gown while she removed her arms from the sleeves. He let the fabric fall to her waist, lowering his head to plant a kiss on her shoulderblade while his hands moved up her sides.
“So beautiful,” he whispered.
She turned toward him and he realized that she had let the gown fall the rest of the way to the floor. He looked her up and down, taking in the sight of her body. A blush started to form on her cheeks and she moved her hands in an attempt to cover herself. He smiled at her.
“One moment, my lady Queen. We can continue right here, or if you wish, move this to your bed.”
He bent to retrieve her garment from the floor and after folding it, placed it on top of his clothing. When he turned back around, she was on the bed, watching him. She hadn't pulled the covers over her legs so he counted that as a win.
He crouched beside the bed, once again letting the silken strands of her hair drift through his fingers. He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. He could feel her heart racing.
“Sansa,” he whispered. “If you need to stop, say the word and I will stop. I will not hurt you.”
She breathed out, a ragged exhalation of relief. Her mouth found his again, tentatively exploring. His hands roamed over her skin as he kissed her. He still hadn't joined her on the bed. His mouth found her neck, then her breasts as his hands traveled down to her legs. He moved from her side to the foot of the bed. He touched his lips to her foot, tracing his tongue along her instep.
She pushed herself up on her elbows, watching him. She wondered if he was being this deliberately slow because it was her, or if he was like this with all of the women he'd pleasured. It was definitely pleasure that coursed through her body right now.
The mattress dipped as he put his weight upon it, kissing and licking his way further up her legs, first on one side then the other. He stopped long enough to say, “My Queen, if you wish to further your own pleasure, please do so.”
Another blush suffused her cheeks as she realized what he was saying. She had touched herself before, when she needed release and there was no one she could trust to give it. It was usually very quick and to the point, none of the slow maddening touches that Podrick was teasing her with right now. She wasn't sure what would happen if she added her own hands to his actions. She lowered her right hand to the spot he was inching toward and gasped when she touched her own wetness. She felt his fingers encircle her wrist and then he drew her questing fingers into his mouth. The slick brush of his tongue against her skin nearly set her off again.
“Podrick,” she murmured, touching the fingers of her free hand to his face.
He stopped his ministrations to look at her. Her lips were parted and she was breathing heavily. Her eyes were dark and her face was flushed with passion.
“Don't you dare stop,” she ordered.
“As it pleases you,” he said, lowering his mouth to her wet core.
Sansa cried out, whether it was Podrick's name, an instruction, or a long-forgotten prayer, it didn't matter. Waves of passion crashed through her. This wasn't love, she told herself. This was only sex, albeit extremely good sex at the hands of an unexpected source.
Podrick brought her to orgasm several times throughout the evening, each time different and more intense than the last. When they both were spent, he dropped a lingering kiss on her lips and left her.
Arya found her later that next day and, true to her promise, asked for details. All Sansa could do in response was smile and say, “You'd be surprised.”
Fandom: Game of Thrones
Characters/Pairing: Podrick Payne/Sansa Stark, Brienne of Tarth, Arya Stark
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 1480
Summary: Sansa wants to gain some more experience. Brienne suggests Podrick as a solution.
A/N: For the Songfic Challenge at LJ's 1_million_words community
“Sometimes I wish I had more, or at least, better experiences with men,” Sansa said.
“There are several who have asked after you. I'm sure you could make an advantageous match if you so desired,” Brienne replied.
“I'm not looking for someone who's in it for an advantageous match.”
“She's looking for sex,” laughed Arya.
“Sometimes I wonder why I allowed you to come back here.”
“Because I'm your sister, that's why. And you missed me,” Arya batted her eyes at Sansa.
Sansa gave her a shove, “Oh, stop.”
“Why don't you ask Pod?” Brienne suggested.
“Ask Pod what?”
“For assistance. With your...” Brienne waved a hand in the air. “...plight.”
“Pod? Podrick Payne?” Sansa asked.
“Yes. He's quite... capable.”
“I'm more adept with a sword than he is,” scoffed Arya.
“How did you come by this knowledge, Ser Brienne? Have you and he...?”
“By the Seven, no! I've heard talk. First in Kings Landing, then certain towns along the road, then here.”
“Perhaps coin has crossed their hands,” reasoned Arya.
“I've heard that the only coin that has crossed hands has been to his in hopes for a return engagement.”
“Surely you jest. The man can barely string a sentence together around me.”
“You make him nervous, my Queen.”
“It is actually better sometimes if they don't talk,” said Arya.
Sansa shot her sister a sideways glance. Arya must have picked up a few lovers during her travels. She didn't think it was very fair that Arya had eclipsed her in this aspect of their lives.
“I can mention it to him if you're uncomfortable,” Brienne suggested.
Sansa gave a curt nod and Brienne left the room.
“Podrick Payne has rarely said a word to me,” Arya mused.
“Maybe he's afraid you'd run him through if he does.”
Arya grinned. “Probably. Perhaps I should speak to him as well.”
“No. Do not. For all his... idiosyncrasies, I trust Podrick not to hurt me. There aren't many I could say that about.”
“Alright, Sansa. Just know I'll want details of the event after you've done the deed.”
Later that night, Sansa was brushing out her hair before bed when there came a light tap against her door. “Come in,” she called out.
The door opened and Podrick stepped inside, letting it close behind him but moving no further into the room. “Ser Brienne said... that...”
Sansa decided to let him off the hook. “Yes, Podrick. I would like your assistance.”
“It will be my honor, but, my lady Queen, you could have any man you wished.”
“That is true.” She stood up from the chair near the fire where she'd sat. “Would you help me unfasten my gown?”
“As you wish.” He moved closer to Sansa. He lifted a hand to her hair, letting his fingers drift over it. “Your hair is lovely.” He didn't tug on it or wrap it around his hand, just gave it the lightest ghost of a caress before grazing his fingers across her collarbone.
“Thank you.”
“As are your breasts, I imagine. I don't mean I've imagined you without clothes. Well, that would be a falsehood, one would have to be dead not to imagine you without clothes and I am certainly not dead. I don't think you'd want to do this with a dead man. I imagine that would be rather difficult and, well, defeat the purpose, so to speak. Unless you were just seeking sexual pleasure. There are ways that a woman could do that without the company of a man and I would be happy to tell you those if...”
“Podrick.”
“I do like it when you say my name, my lady Queen.”
She felt his hands against the bare skin of her stomach and realized that when he was babbling, he was also following his request to undress her.
“Nicely done,” she said, smiling at him. “You need to catch up.”
He pulled his shirt over his head and unfastened his trousers. Her eyes widened at the sight of his cock and then she let out an involuntary giggle, thinking that Ramsey would have felt woefully inadequate by comparison.
“Are you nervous?” he asked gently.
“No,” Sansa lied. “You?”
He picked his clothing up from where it fell on the floor and began to fold it. “You outrank every woman I've ever been with in this way.” He set the clothing on a chair and walked back over to her.
“You may not outrank my suitors, but you're a better man, Podrick.”
“May I help you out of your gown, my Queen?”
Sansa nodded and Podrick moved behind her, holding the gown while she removed her arms from the sleeves. He let the fabric fall to her waist, lowering his head to plant a kiss on her shoulderblade while his hands moved up her sides.
“So beautiful,” he whispered.
She turned toward him and he realized that she had let the gown fall the rest of the way to the floor. He looked her up and down, taking in the sight of her body. A blush started to form on her cheeks and she moved her hands in an attempt to cover herself. He smiled at her.
“One moment, my lady Queen. We can continue right here, or if you wish, move this to your bed.”
He bent to retrieve her garment from the floor and after folding it, placed it on top of his clothing. When he turned back around, she was on the bed, watching him. She hadn't pulled the covers over her legs so he counted that as a win.
He crouched beside the bed, once again letting the silken strands of her hair drift through his fingers. He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. He could feel her heart racing.
“Sansa,” he whispered. “If you need to stop, say the word and I will stop. I will not hurt you.”
She breathed out, a ragged exhalation of relief. Her mouth found his again, tentatively exploring. His hands roamed over her skin as he kissed her. He still hadn't joined her on the bed. His mouth found her neck, then her breasts as his hands traveled down to her legs. He moved from her side to the foot of the bed. He touched his lips to her foot, tracing his tongue along her instep.
She pushed herself up on her elbows, watching him. She wondered if he was being this deliberately slow because it was her, or if he was like this with all of the women he'd pleasured. It was definitely pleasure that coursed through her body right now.
The mattress dipped as he put his weight upon it, kissing and licking his way further up her legs, first on one side then the other. He stopped long enough to say, “My Queen, if you wish to further your own pleasure, please do so.”
Another blush suffused her cheeks as she realized what he was saying. She had touched herself before, when she needed release and there was no one she could trust to give it. It was usually very quick and to the point, none of the slow maddening touches that Podrick was teasing her with right now. She wasn't sure what would happen if she added her own hands to his actions. She lowered her right hand to the spot he was inching toward and gasped when she touched her own wetness. She felt his fingers encircle her wrist and then he drew her questing fingers into his mouth. The slick brush of his tongue against her skin nearly set her off again.
“Podrick,” she murmured, touching the fingers of her free hand to his face.
He stopped his ministrations to look at her. Her lips were parted and she was breathing heavily. Her eyes were dark and her face was flushed with passion.
“Don't you dare stop,” she ordered.
“As it pleases you,” he said, lowering his mouth to her wet core.
Sansa cried out, whether it was Podrick's name, an instruction, or a long-forgotten prayer, it didn't matter. Waves of passion crashed through her. This wasn't love, she told herself. This was only sex, albeit extremely good sex at the hands of an unexpected source.
Podrick brought her to orgasm several times throughout the evening, each time different and more intense than the last. When they both were spent, he dropped a lingering kiss on her lips and left her.
Arya found her later that next day and, true to her promise, asked for details. All Sansa could do in response was smile and say, “You'd be surprised.”