Hello can I request a Stannis x Sansa oneshot where they are married and boom they have triplets all boys. And Stannis will be his turn on taking care of the babies because Sansa is at work? Domestic fluff one shot
Yes, you can! 📚💙
See below the cut for the fic (or click here to read it on ao3!). Thank you for being so patient - I hope that you enjoy it.
“I’m home!” Sansa called, toeing off her heels.
After her first day back at work, she was impatient to see her husband and their three little ones. She hadn't thought that she would make it, after spending hours pouring over fabric swatches and sketches for the newest collection. In-between every thought she'd spared for work, she wondered how her husband, Stannis was, and whether their boys were behaving.
She blushed when Margaery took her phone away, after the tenth time she'd checked it for any calls or messages. Sansa knew that she needed to focus - there were only so many things that she could do through text messages, emails, and constant Zoom sessions – as Margaery had reminded her, over and over again.
“Everyone misses you here,” Margaery had pled, batting her eyelashes, and pouting her lips; knowing that it would make her friend and favorite lingerie designer laugh. “I miss you, Sansa. Won’t you think about coming back? For a day or two a week?”
They both knew she couldn’t stay away.
Not forever, no – Sansa enjoyed creating too much to stay away for long. After growing up watching old Hollywood movies and burying herself in every copy of Vogue that she could get her hands on, she’d studied fashion and design at university. In her first year, she'd met Margaery and soon found herself with a best friend and business partner. The Red Rose was their joint-baby, their lingerie line that was dedicated to releasing pieces that were as timeless and elegant as they were revealing.
It hadn’t taken long for their first launch to sell out, with every release after following suit. Their customers couldn't get enough, and they had a strong online following as well. The day their account was followed by one of Margaery's favorite influencers resulted in a marathon of rom-com movies and a bottle of wine to celebrate.
It was a dream come true, one that Sansa held close to her heart.
Only there were dreams she held closer still, ones that she had never dared to imagine. Margaery had never told her the name of their company’s initial investor, the one that would later sweep Sansa off her feet...
The one that she would fall utterly in love with, and be loved by in turn.
And have three, precious children with.
Sansa smiled a slow, sweet smile that thoughts of her family always created. There was nothing in the world that had prepared her for how happy they made her, nor how much they made her heart ache with love. It was sweet and enthralling like the stories that Old Nan once told her and her siblings.
Only Sansa had begged to hear more before sleep.
It was more than she had ever thought that she would have and softened the memory of a childhood dominated by her mother's criticism, and her siblings constantly overshadowing her. They constantly jostled for attention, while Sansa fled the other way. She had always been terribly soft and quiet with a head full of dreams that her siblings had found difficult to relate to.
She didn’t roughhouse with Robb or their cousin, Jon, and she shied away from the pranks that Arya and Rickon loved to play. It didn’t help that she was the constant victim of their pranks, as they hid worms in her pockets and filled her shampoo bottle with black hair dye. Catelyn had grounded Arya and Rickon for six months after the latter prank, while it took just over a year for the dye to fade from Sansa’s hair.
As much as Sansa loved her family, their distance from her had hurt her feelings. She felt small when she was with them, and unimportant as she could never think of the right thing to say, or do.
And her father, Ned, had never known how to treat her, more so than her mother or her siblings. He couldn't volunteer to coach her sports teams as he did with Rickon and Robb or take her to fencing lessons as he did with Arya. Nor had he ever sat at the end of her bed and read stories aloud as he did with Brann. As much as she disliked too, she sometimes wondered if they would have been closer had she been born a boy too.
“She’s a little lady in the making,” Old Nan had often crowed.
Sansa ran her fingers through her hair, gently pulling her braids free.
Stannis had changed everything for her. He stood beside her, her hand tucked in his when she was too afraid to face the world and made her feel like anything was possible in his quiet, knowing way. Where others thought he was harsh and stern, Sansa saw him differently.
She always had.
He only said things that he meant refusing to lie to anyone. There was something that Sansa found she could respect in his approach, as unforgiving as it could be. He never lied to her, yet he wasn’t as harsh as people thought, no –
He was gentle with her, never pushing her away.
“He’s your ‘lobster,’ isn’t he?” Margaery teased, while she made quotation marks in the air. She and Sansa had often watched Friends together while cramming for finals, and they used the line often. For lobsters mated for life (thus fitting Sansa) while Margaery referred to herself as a black widow.
“Someone has to pay for my Louboutin’s, besides my dear grandmother.”
For all of Margaery’s teasing nature, she understood how happy Stannis made her friend. She was Maid of Honor at their wedding, and her support meant everything to Sansa – especially when Ned and Catelyn refused to attend. They had never approved of Sansa’s relationship with Stannis, citing their age difference as one of many issues. While Sansa still maintained a relationship with Brann and, surprisingly enough, Jon, she had little contact with the others.
“I’ll let you go, if you ask me to,” Stannis told her, keeping his face turned away from hers. “I don’t want to take you away from them – “
Sansa had wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek against his back. “I don’t want you to leave me, Stannis. I never will.”
Not long after that night, Sansa had found herself pregnant.
Her heart skipped when she saw blankets stretched between the velvet chaises, and pillows haphazardly stacked beneath to create a pillow fort. Stannis had admitted it was something he’d loved to do as a child – with Robert and Renly diligently working and bickering alongside him. “It was more than a game to us,” Stannis explained, holding her small hand in his, “It was the only place we felt safe after... – “She’d filled in the spaces herself, her hand squeezing his.
It was the first time that he'd opened up to her after he'd grown quiet and withdrawn during her pregnancy. She hadn't known how much he worried about her, or how his thoughts turned to the loss of his parents. The news they were expecting triplets had only increased his fears until she curled her arms around his waist and laid her head on his shoulder and asked for him to come back to her.
“I... I’m here, Sansa – I’ll always be here.”
“Why?” she’d asked, even as she knew that he meant every word, for Stannis would never lie.
Not to her. Not to anyone.
“Because I’m yours, sweet girl.”
“Now, and always,” Sansa repeated, smiling at the memory despite her aching feet, and the last wisps of anxiety that clung to her sleeves. She hadn’t wanted to leave her boys behind, the past two years she’d spent at home for her maternity leave sheer bliss. Steffon, Jasper, and Lyonel were a wolfpack in the making with their dark curls, blue eyes, and knowing smiles that won anyone’s heart twice over.
They also had endless amounts of energy, learning to run before they could walk, and sticking everything they could get their hands on inside their mouths. Sansa had never seen her husband scowl as much as when their boys developed a taste for paper and had happily chewed on every errant document and open book left out in his office! At the sight of their boys’ cheeks bulging like chipmunks, she hadn’t been able to resist laughing – and neither had Stannis, as his scowl faded into rich laughter – before they had gained control once more.
Well –
As much control as a parent could have over three rambunctious toddlers.
Sansa crept down the hallway, pausing when she reached their bedroom. The door was left open, and Stannis lay on their bed, quietly reading aloud from a naval historical, while their ‘pack’ crowded around him. Steffon snuggled against his right side, with Jasper doing the same on his left, and Lyonel laying across his chest with his head on his shoulder.
As if she were in a wonderful dream, Sansa saw that all three boys were fast asleep.
And, hidden behind the book that he had read countless times before, Stannis hid his knowing smile. He'd missed his wife desperately since she'd left in the morning, their house colder without her. He'd worried their boys would cry without her near, not taking to his company as they did hers.
They loved nothing more than to climb in her lap and play with her hair, while she read their favorite stories aloud to them, or balanced a sketch pad on her knees and dreamed of a new collection. She was patient and sweet; teaching the triplets not to pull at her skirt or tear at her sketchpad, without raising her voice or scowling at them.
How did she do it?
Stannis knew their children would love her, as everyone did.
Still, it made him feel things that he couldn’t put a name to, as he saw her cradle their children close and pepper their cheeks with kisses. She made them laugh when she slipped fuzzy socks on their feet and brushed their hair back with a small, gilded brush much like her own. They did as she wished without ever throwing a tantrum, though it was a different story when he was there –
Then they would throw a tantrum, whether it was because he had cut their sandwiches the wrong way, or chose the wrong outfits for them to wear.
“How do you do it?” Stannis had asked her when he couldn't help but scowl after Jasper covered himself and his brothers' head to toe with applesauce. He'd scolded them until Sansa had appeared, and promptly sent him to run a bath for them. She'd cleaned the kitchen while he'd cleaned three, squirming toddlers, and found himself soaked in bubble bath and remnants of applesauce at the end. “How do you make them love you, no matter what you do?”
(How can I make them love me too?)
Sansa hadn’t laughed, as he feared she might.
She’d taken his hand in hers, and pressed it against her cheek. “I don’t make them do anything, Stannis, and neither do you. I don’t think we could if we tried.”
She’d moved closer, nestling her small frame against his.
“I know you’re afraid of screwing up – and you will. We will.” Sansa pressed her lips against his chest, and he'd wound his fingers through her thick tresses as if he could pull her closer still. “We already have by letting them eat sugary snacks and naming Robert as their godfather. That doesn’t mean they will love us any less, Stannis, as long as we love them in turn.”
And more than anything, he did.
Sansa and their boys were everything to him. Everything.
Sansa was as warm as the sun and as loving as pure sugar melting on his tongue –
While he knew he was hardened and gruff, and never saying the right thing. He loved Sansa and their children, and the last thing he'd wanted was their children to fear him...only they'd hadn't, no – they were thrilled when he helped them to build a pillow fort, something they had never done before.
There was little bickering between the triplets, as they studiously followed his lead and had shrieked in delight when they were able to crawl into the finished space. They'd soon dragged every stuffed animal they had into the belly of their fort and had asked him to come too.
How could he deny them?
Stannis had played with them for hours, in-between making them breakfast, lunch, and dinner before he gathered them up for a bubble bath. After that, he'd been faced with three droopy-eyed and begging children, as they asked to stay up until Sansa came home. Stannis had agreed after he wrestled them into their pajamas, and tucked them into his bed. Then he read aloud to them, knowing the account of the Dreadnought would lull them to sleep...
And it had until Sansa snuggled in beside them.
“My little wolf pack,” she murmured, her loving smile matching her husband’s.
