you've got to promise not to stop when i say when

pt v

Sansa pulled the dress over her shoulders and shimmied it down past her hips until it hit her upper thigh. Joffrey has bought it for her for Christmas, and in any normal situation she could probably class it as lingerie. It was black lace and verging on sheer, with lacing all the way down. It reminded her of a corset. It probably didn't need a bra, but she wore one anyway. The red and black set she'd bought didn't suit her, she'd decided, after staring at herself in the mirror for an hour. She'd looked like a doe in the headlights. Her confidence wasn't quite high enough to try and wear that, and Joffrey would hate it if she wore it while looking timid and frightened of his response. He'd tell her not to pander for compliments.

The blue set though, the blue set was Sansa. Every inch of it looked like it belonged on her body, so even though it might not have suited this sex get up she wore for her boyfriend, she doubted he'd really care about how it clashed.

She ran a brush through her hair and pulled it over one shoulder, then went out to his kitchen.

She was cooking his favourite meal and the whole thing was to be a surprise, she wanted him to walk through the door and smell it, then he'd walk into the kitchen and see Sansa in this skimpy dress he'd badgered her to wear and stiletto heels, and later, he'd unwrap her and see the lingerie he'd paid for, for the first time.

The guilt of Theon had her hiding them for a fortnight.

Sansa checked her phone for the time, knowing Joffrey's routine like clockwork. He'd be back any minute, so she grabbed the corkscrew from the drawer and when she heard the door unlocking, she grabbed the wine from the fridge and headed through to greet him.

"Joff, I've got a surprise for you!" She singsonged, clicking her way to him. Things had gone silent, weirdly silent, and she saw why once she spotted Joffrey, frozen in place with his two uncles and Mr Clegane, who, from what Sansa could tell, was just a general dogsbody in the company.

There were appreciative eyes running over her form and none of them belonged to her boyfriend. She didn't even have the presence to feel embarrassed by the dress, or that handsome uncle Jaime wore that stupid know-it-all smile that he always wore, or that Sandor was clearly memorising everything about her in this outfit.

Tyrion, kind and ever helpful Tyrion, cleared his throat and touched Joffrey's arm. "Perhaps we should come back another time." He suggested, but Sansa knew from the look on Joffrey's face that it wasn't a good idea.

"Don't touch me." He snapped, shrugging his uncle away before he stormed at Sansa. The young Lannister grabbed her upper arm and pushed her into the dining room. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" He yelled in her face, up close and personal, not even being quiet for the sake of his uncles and employee hearing.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry I just wanted to surprise you." She spoke softly, and unless the other men had come closer they wouldn't have heard.

"How fucking humiliating, don't you realise how stupid you've made me look?" He pushed her arm as he let it go, her shoulder hitting the wall behind her.

"I'm sorry, really, I just thought it would be nice." It sounded like a plea, and after setting down the wine and opener, her hands had gone to his shoulders in an attempt to bring him back on side.

"Get out."

"What?" She paused, fingers stilling.

"Get out. I don't want you here while I'm working. Get. Out." He curled his fingers around her wrists and yanked them off his shirt, dropping them as soon as he possibly could.

"Okay." She accepted, and this time when she saw the three men waiting in the entrance foyer, embarrassment was all she felt. She went to the kitchen and took the now cooked meal from the oven and set it on the counter.