#theonsa fluff

[welldonebeca]

The Things We Do For Love (Epilogue)

WC: 2.1k words Warnings: Fluff. Kids. Time Skip. Smut. Breeding kink. Dirty talk. Rough sex. 

Masterlist

Theon pressed his seal onto the freshly melted wax with his symbol, just done with his letter to his sister when he heard the sound of running steps in the library.

It made him feel both young and old at the same time, the sound of those steps. Theon remembered being just a ward of the Starks, hearing the young Stark boys playing. Now, as Prince Theon, there were very different little steps of little Stark boys coming after him.

"Come on, B'an!" little Robb said in a hurried tone. "You are so slow."

"Ah!" a panted babble followed him.

He shook his head, placing the message aside and pushing his chair back, knowing already that his lap was going to be occupied in a moment.

In just a few seconds, his two little boys rushed through the doorway and ran in his direction.

Little Robb was the spitting imagine of his uncle and namesake, a beautiful boy with red hair and round pink cheeks, full of energy. He had wept when he held him for the first time, sat right beside Sansa on her bed.

He treasured his first boy like the gift and bless he was for their family, and when Brandon came along, he was just as happy. His second son was named after his King uncle, a boy with dark locks, but bright blue Tully eyes. Sansa preached high and low of how he looked more and more like his father every day, but he had more of Ned Stark on him every time Theon looked at him.

Robb had just reached his third nameday - people from all over the North were expected to come in just a few days to celebrate it, and he was just answering Yara’s letter, where she was apologising for her absence - and was already speaking fast and very clearly. That meant, however, that he had very little patience for his one-year-old brother, who was still just babbling.

“Ah-ee!” Brandon squealed - his attempt at saying Daddy - as he waddled over to Theon with little Robb walking not far behind, ever so careful with his little brother, and he placed his youngest on his lap, peppering his full cheeks with kisses while his heir slammed his small body over his father excitedly.

“Daddy!” he exclaimed, jumping to sit on his opposite leg, and Theon picked him up, doing the same to his face and smiling as he giggled.

“And what are my boys doing at the library when they should be napping?” he asked.

“I saw unca Jon!” he whispered loudly. “He said it is a secret.”

Theon frowned. Jon?

He shouldn’t be here so early, he was coming for the party.

“Uncle Jon, Robb?” he brushed his messy hair back. “Are you sure?”

Jon was a stable on their children’s lives. Twice a year, he came to visit them - first in secret, and then publicly - and was very loved by their children and their people. He wondered if the boys knew what kind of uncle he was, that he was special, but he knew they loved him very much.

Theon didn’t like lying to his children, but it was his own burden to carry. It was best that they thought it was a dream, that their uncle wasn’t here yet. He wanted the boys to know and understand, but they were too young, so he had to brace himself, like Ned Stark would have done, and let them live with their illusion.

“Looks like someone really needs a nap,” he teased little Robb, ticking his belly. “You are daydreaming already!”

His son pouted.

“But I did see him! He was down in the c’ypts!” he argued. “Tell him B’an!”

Theon looked at Brandon, who just just gurgled and giggled, lacking any defence for his brother.

“The crypts?” he forced a frown. “I see now! You didn’t see uncle Jon. You saw grandpa Ned!”

His son’s eyes widened.

“G’andpa Ned?” he repeated.

“You see,” he stood up, carrying them, trying to come up with a good lie. “Uncle Jon looks very much like Grandpa Ned. And sometimes, Grandpa Ned comes to visit his grandsons, to see why they are alone in the crypts and protect them from anyone who might come!”

Little Rob’s face became fearful.

“Wike a white?” he asked.

Theon squeezed him closer, protectively. He was too too young to know the meaning of that word, but tales travel all around Winterfell. It would be impossible to hide that from them.

He shook his head quickly.

“No, no,” he assured quickly. “Not like a white, my boy.

He reached for this face, and caressed it.

“You know what our family says, right? What is dead…

“May never die,” he completed his sentence.

Theon nodded, smiling.

“His spirit is here with us,” he told him. “Guarding his children and the children of his children, like when I was your age. But it’s a family secret.”

His son stared at him with big, wide eyes, the same he saw as his mother.

“That’s why he said it was a sec’et!” he exclaimed, looking at Bran.

Theon nodded, smiling.

“Exactly,” he kissed his temple.

“Why does he do that?” Robb asked.

He breathed in, looking for an answer, carrying them in the direction of the nursery.

“Because Eddard Stark was the most noble man I knew. He would and did everything to protect his family,” he told him. “And he knows little boys aren’t supposed to be alone in the crypts.”

Robb blushed red, and he kissed his cheek as Bran yawned, head falling on his shoulder.

“I want to be like that for you,” he pushed the door opened.

He rested a hand on his oldest’s back, placing Brandon on his bed, smiling as he fell right into sleep.

“I think you’re very on’ble, daddy,” he spoke lazily as he placed him on his bed, but he squeezed him. “No, daddy. B’an’s bed.”

Theon chuckled, shaking his head.

Oh, yes. His boys were always sneaking onto each other’s beds.

“Alright,” he walked back to Brandon’s bed, and placing Robb on it.

His oldest scooped his little brother close, cuddling him, and his eyes filled up with tears as he watched them, and his oldest felt right into sleep.

He stayed there for a moment, watching them breathe slowly. They were going to grow up happy and together, like their uncles. Theon was making sure of that.

Finally, he got up to investigate their story, walking to their family wing, where he knew Sansa was waiting.

Theon could hear hushed sounds from his wife’s room when he walked into their shared middle room, and didn’t even need to open her before hearing a little whimper from her, and a gasp. Yep, Jon was here alright.

When he did open the door, he wasn’t surprised to find her all leaning over a table, with her ass up and Jon hammering into her, fingers pushed through her hair for support.

He could swear the bastard was becoming more and more like a wildling those past few years, creeping into their home to lay with his wife. It was a good thing she liked it too.

“You didn’t wait for me?” he asked, not surprised.

Jon smirked, grunting.

“Oh, I wanted to,” he pulled a little more on her hair. “But our cum slut here was rubbing herself on me so much. I couldn’t deny her.”

Sansa’s eyes opened at the sound of his voice, and she moaned louder at the sight of her husband.

“Theon,” she cried out.

He walked to her, lowering himself to kiss her lips.

“Are you having fun, my slutty queen?” he asked softly.

Theon made her stand up enough to have access to her full tits, and smirked to realise Jon had tore her shift, and pinched her nipples.

“Was my wife’s cunt so irresistible you almost got caught by the boys, snow?” he teased him, reaching between her legs.

Sansa gasped as he pinched her bud, turning to Jon.

“What?” she exclaimed. “The boys saw you?”

He wasn’t even affected.

“Don’t worry,” Jon fucked her faster. “They are young.”

Theon hummed.

“I handled it,” he reassured her, bragging a little bit as he tore her shift completely, watching her naked body. “At least one of us needs to get our head away from between our legs.”

Sansa giggled and Jon just scoffed as he fucked her, and Theon just made sure to play with her more.

“Every day before Robb’s nameday I’ll fuck you and fill you up,” he promised her. “Until your pretty womb is full and growing with our baby.”

His wife mewled, squirming and moving her hips, trying to get more of his touches.

Theon was half sure they had awoken the inner wolf - or dragon, or whatever - inside Jon once he saw Sansa pregnant for the first time. It was during her nameday, his first official visit to Winterfell, and it was hard to hide how he looked like just wanted to fuck her right at the big table she was seated on.

That night, he had simply devoured her cunt, and only been careful with her because he didn’t want to hurt the baby.

“Please, Jon,” she whined, pulling Theon close. “Inside me. Cum inside me.”

He kissed her lips, moving his fingers away, and she nearly growled into his lips.

“Theon,” Sansa pleaded.

“I know you can cum only with his cock, my slutty queen,” he hummed, caressing her hair. “You can make yourself so messy…”

She cried, squirming, and he simply moved his fingers to her breasts, pinching them, watching her face.

“Won’t you do it, my queen?” he teased her. “Cum on his cock, wet it with your slutty juices?”

“I don’t know, Theon. She’s been very greedy with her orgasms,” Jon remarked. “Sneaking a hand to play with herself, so bratty.”

Sansa turned right to him, snapping.

“I’m the queen!” she argued.

Theon just chuckled, feeling something stirring inside as she watched Jon pulling her hair to growl himself into her ear.

“And I am the king,” he reminded her.

Jon grabbed wrapped his around her waist, and looked over a Theon before biting her earlobe, fucking fast and hard into her, and his wife’s eyes rolled back in pleasure, and her lips fell open as she cried.

“Now fucking cum,” he commanded, brute and merciless. “Cum for your King, whore of the North.”

Sansa cried out, trembling and shaking, and watched as she gushed from between her legs, and he kissed her lips as Jon moaned behind her, filling her up hungrily, and let him carry her to bed, following the two, caressing her face as he kissed her shoulder.

“You are getting better at that, Snow,” he quipped as he scooped closer to them, pulled by Sansa.

His wife whined, hiding her face in the crook of his neck.

“What can I say?” he chuckled, caressing her body. “I got some good teachers.”

Jon spooned Sansa closer and kissed her neck, and then looked at him again.

“How are the boys?” he asked. “I tried not to say anything when they saw me, just… stood there and put a finger over my lips to keep them quiet, and walked into the crypts.”

Theon hummed, nodding.

“Not a lot of change,” he confessed. “Brandon is still babbling but little Robb is very curious, he’s already picked up reading fast.”

Jon smiled, proud.

“And they think they saw the ghost of Lord Stark in the crypts,” he added. “So… maybe try to keep that up if anything happens.”

He chuckled a bit.

“I guess I’m already a walking ghost,” he joked.

Theon watched Sansa reaching back, and she placed her hand over his.

“You are still Jon to us,” she told him.

Jon moved their hands, so they would rest on her stomach, and Theon placed his over them.

"I hope it is a girl this time," she spoke gently.

"If that is what you want, your grace, then it shall be," he hummed and kissed her lips softly.

When he moved back, Jon did the same.

"We can always try again," he promised her. "Again and again..."

Sansa scoffed playfully.

"I'll be pregnant so many times that I'll just end up as a fat Queen!"

"And you will still be the most beautiful woman in all Westeros," he growled quickly. "Nothing is ever going to change that."

"We'll always be the luckiest men to have you as our lady," Jon added, kissing her shoulder.

Sansa smiled at them, sweet and teasing as ever.

"I know," she giggled. "I just love heating you saying."

Theon shook his head.

The little minx.

"I think I speak for us both when I say we'll always do so," Jon assured her.

Theon smirked and kissed her forehead.

"Always."

. . .

Forever Tags: @emoryhemsworth​​​ @amythyststorm33​​​ @shaelyn102​​​ @yknott81​​​ ​​ @letsdisneythings​​​ @maximofftrash​​​ @kgbrenner​​​ @thefridgeismybestie​​​ @magpiegirl80​​​ @mogaruke​​​ @shadowhunter7​​​ @musicalcoffeebean​​​ @megasimpleplan4ever​​​ @deemoriarty​​​ @05spn18​​​ @malindacath​​​ @kdcollinsauthor​​​ @random-fandom-fangirl2112​​​ @widowsfics​​​ @frozenhuntress67​​​ @averyrogers83​​​ @notyourtypicalrose​​​ @nerdypinupcrystal​ @giruvega​

Game of Thrones tags: @izbelross @ietss

[ship-ambrosia]

Me: Hey finish that Theonsa modern AU you were gonna post for Valentine’s Day. I know you went through a lot this week but like this will make you happy

My brain: okay but what if instead, I write a sequel to a one-off fic with like 17 likes rn in three hours

[demon-of-the-ancient-world]

Fic Masterlist

What the hell, why not. None of these are on Tumblr but they're all on AO3 and I thought I'd link them.

Vikings

Athelstan:

My Good Deeds, They Will End Me (Oneshot, in which Athelstan builds a church. Based on a dream of @grantairescurls)

Hallowed (Oneshot, a short introspective fic about Athelstan's trauma and grief after Wessex, and all else that has built up to it.)

There is Thunder in Our Hearts (Somewhat politics/plot focused, full of angst, misunderstandings, miscommunication and guilt when one of Ragnar's impatient decisions leads to Athelstan being injured and almost killed.) Command Me To Be Well (Amen) (oneshot, angst and Ragnar being protective/vengeful when someone thinks they can get away with hurting his priest) If I don't get some shelter, I'm gonna fade away (9 chapters, gen/kind of found family, lots of h/c, mixed pov but mostly Athelstan)

Eljun (2 chapters, h/c and angst, focuses on (platonic) Athelstan-Lagertha relationship, split pov)

Game of Thrones

Theon/Sansa: Fugitive (19 chapters (unfinished), modern/sci fi/super powers au, Theon pov)

I don't know where I'm going, but I'll gladly go with you (Oneshot, modern au, written for Theonsa Challenge 2020, Sansa pov)

The best cure is soup and bad TV with a loved one (Oneshot, modern au, written for Theonsa Challenge 2020, Sansa pov)

Til Human Voices Wake Us And We Drown (Oneshot, established relationship, mild fluff/angst, written for Theonsa Challenge 2020, Theon pov)

Your Little Hand In Mine (Oneshot, married!Theonsa, fluff, written for Theonsa Challenge 2020, Sansa pov)

If You Need A Shoulder to Cry On (Oneshot, modern au, mild angst, Theon pov)

If Only I could See You Once Again (Canon verse au, Theon Lives, Sansa pov)

My Voice A Beacon in the Night, My Words Will Be Your Light (Very Long oneshot, post canon, Theon pov)

Would You Dare To Dream of Me (Oneshot, fluff, Theon pov)

In Winter (Oneshot, h/c and fluff, pre-relationship, Sansa pov)

We The Survivors (6 chapters, multi pov (but focuses on Theon and Sansa mostly)

[alleyskywalker]

2023 Fanfic Year Wrap-Up Meme

Number of Fics: 53 Number of Unique Fandoms: 6* (ASOIAF, GoT, HOTD, Harry Potter, War and Peace,  Romeo and Juliet) Number of Unique Pairings: 35 (repeat ships: Throbb [6], Alicole [3], Tristheon, Theonsa, Patheon, Tris/Sansa, Montacrew OT3, Romercutio, Regulus/Evan, Dransy [2 each])** Total Number of Words: 104,970

*Counting ASOIAF, GoT and HOTD as different fandoms because that’s kind of how I’ve been doing it when tagging and stuff.   **Only counting ships which were primarily featured as a focus of the story. Often times ships would hover in the background but weren’t counted. # Gen: 21 # Het: 24 # Slash: 20 # Fem: 3 *Some stories fall into more than one category.

# PG: 33 # PG-13: 17 # R: 3 # NC-17/Explicit: 0

Looking back, did you write more fics than you thought you would this year, less than you thought, or about what you predicted?. I’d say more. I actually beat what I wrote last year, despite writing less (if my calculations are/were correct) for Battleship than I did last year (in 2022).

Where did you publish/archive your stories? AO3 with some cross-posting to Tumblr. What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January? I accidentally fell in love with Tris/Sansa this year… Did you take any writing risks this year? Not as many as last year I think, but Battleship always inspires weird shit. *gestures at space selkies* Do you have any writing goals for the new year? I always do and then I never accomplish them. But no ok…I WILL finish that throbb WIP I started posting, good lord. What’s your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest. Always hard to choose but either This Love Feel I (That Feel No Love In This) or Tore My Heart In Sunder. Okay, NOW your most popular story? Going by kudos, Sweet Misery. Story of yours most underappreciated by the universe, in your opinion? The Tris/Sansa fics, though I get it lol. Mm also Adjust For The Wind, maybe, bur it does have like 5 lovely comments which is pretty good for a niche gen fic. Story that could have been better?

There’s always a few, especially with Battleship. Most fun story to write? Mmm several were in their own ways, but like....Tore My Heart In Sunder was super cathartic in a way so lets go with that. Story with single sweetest moment? The Sweetest Marriage is, as the title suggests, pure domestic fluff.

The story that made you cry? If any did, it was probably Tore My Heart In Sunder.

Most “holy crap, that’s wrong, even for you” story? Hmm I don’t think there was one this year? Sexiest story? This year was really not about that lmao (like even for me). Hardest story to write I kind of want to say Homeward Bound (the space selkies ones) but idk. I wrote it super fast lbr and just kind of let it do its thing. There’s always several fics that are difficult in different ways/different types of painful and it’s hard to compare sometimes.

Easiest story to write? Mm this isn't saying much, really, especially that it being super short is part of it, but probably In Robb's Dreams. Most unintentionally telling story Ok, so actually…A Soft Epilogue probably because I think it Says things about me as a throbb shipper at least. Story you haven’t yet written, but intend to Still hoping for to materialize the throbb/reyne longfic AU somehow…

[anniebibananie]

could you do a prompt for theonsa (canon or modern) where robb is still alive and freaks out about them being together?

Sansa wished out of all the ways Robb could have found them, she had at least had a shirt on. Instead there she was in her pink bralette, Theon kissing a spot near her bellybutton, when Robb walked through the door of Theon’s apartment with a six pack of beer under one arm and takeout in the other. 

“I know you said you were busy, but I used Find My Friends and—” 

The takeout fell to the floor. Luckily, the beer stayed where it was. 

“Oh my fucking god,” Robb yelled, flipping around as quick as he could manage. “Why are you naked?” 

“Please tell me I don’t actually have to explain that to you,” Theon said as he slipped onto his feet, pulling his pants quickly back on. 

“I’m not naked,” Sansa added in defense as she threw her shirt over her head. Her and Theon shared a look then, like they knew the storm was coming but it was a sort of comical one, and she sighed. “You can turn around.” 

Robb huffed. “I’m scared.” 

“Oh, then please do stay staring at that wall forever. It’ll work great for this conversation I’m sure.” Sansa reached up and threw her hair in a ponytail, realizing it might put her brother more at ease than the frizzy, wild mess it probably was from Theon’s hands pulling through it. 

It took only a second after Robb had turned for the embarrassment to seemingly meld into a sort of anger. “How long has this been going on?” he asked. “And behind my back. My best friend and my sister, I can’t—”

“About three months,” Theon answered in an attempt to end the rambling. 

Sansa remembered it fondly. She’d had a shit day at work, and she had gone to the bar in hopes that a drink might ease the pain a bit. Theon was working, and he was always good for a playful smile and light joke that made the heaviness of life wash away. He was good like that. 

He was also good at kissing his way down her jaw in the back room, hoisting her leg up as she was pushed into a shelving unit holding liquor bottles, and whispering sweet things that made her unwind. And after that, well, she hadn’t really wanted to stop. 

Sansa liked sleeping with Theon, but she also liked the after when they laid on his couch and he ordered pizza. Or the before when their foreplay ended up mostly being them arguing over some movie or book until they were almost yelling, and it was so easy to kiss his red lips to shut him up. 

“So this is what?” Robb asked, eyes unsure which of them to look at. “Are you guys hooking up? I can’t believe either of you. I don’t know who I’m more confused by.” 

“Don’t be mad,” Sansa said as she moved forward, but then Theon’s hand was on her arm, and she looked over to see him have a serious look on his face. Those were sort of rare. 

He stepped in front of her and toward Robb. “I know this might be like, too feely and shit, but I like your sister. I don’t know why the hell she puts up with me, but I’m not trying to fuck with her. This is real for me, and i’m just here trying not to fuck it up for as long as she lets me.” 

Robb blinked. He turned to Sansa. “And you?” 

“I also do not know why I put up with him,” she said through a smile, shaking her head. “He just tried to have a heart to heart with you by saying too feely and shit. But I have no intention of fucking with him, or letting him go anywhere for that matter.” 

Theon turned and his smile was wide, reaching all the way to his eyes. He moved forward and kissed her lips, and she sank into the feeling. Theon Greyjoy. What a surprise that was. 

Robb cleared his throat, and they broke apart. 

“I still kinda hate this,” he said as he waved his hand toward the pair of them, “but I give my blessing. Now, one of you pick up that takeout, and I get to pick a movie because of the emotional distress I’ve been put through, and—”

“He’s such a whiner,” Sansa whispered to Theon. He turned and kissed the crown of her head. 

“You like me,” he teased. 

She rolled her eyes. “Unfortunately.” But she reached up and pecked his lips anyways. 

[jeyne-stark]

Anon asked for Theonsa and 5 — things you didn’t say at all

(Send a ship and a number and I’ll write you a minific)

Sansa could have, of course.

It would not have been hard—she wouldn’t have even needed to ask, really. She could have just held out her hand, and Theon would have taken it. She could have led him inside, through the courtyard and up the stairs, into her bedchamber, laid him down on her featherbed. Theon would have let her; he would have opened his arms to her without needing to be asked, and she wouldn’t have slept alone.

She could have kept him there, in her bed, in her life. She could have taken care of him. She could have made sure he ate and watched the last of the gaunt shadows leave his face. She could have held him when he woke from nightmares and reminded him that they were safe, that Ramsay was dead. She could have protected him, could have made Winterfell a home for him. He could have healed; they both could.

He would have let her, if she had asked. If she had held out her hand, he would have taken it. No words would have needed to pass between them—please in the squeeze of a hand, don’t leave me in the clasp of fingers, I need you in their held gaze. He would have taken her hand, and let her lead him anywhere.

She could have led him inside and they could have purged away the ghosts there. She could have taken him down to the kennels and she could have told him he died screaming as his hounds ate him; perhaps the telling of it could have eased their nightmares. She could have taken him up to her bedchambers—not her parents’, with too many ghosts in the mattress, but perhaps someday even there—and they could have slept in each others’ arms, curled into each other like puppies.

Something could have grown between them, then, the seeds of it already planted, the first tender green shoots peeking up from the soil; yes, she could have grown to love him, truly and deeply, as much as her mother had loved her father. They could have built it, stone by stone; the foundations were already laid.

She had trusted him, more than anyone else in the world—more than Jon, more than Arya, more than Brienne. No-one else ever knew where all her scars were. No-one else ever knew what she saw when she wept in her sleep. No-one else ever knew the phantom hands that clasped her about her ribs and her hips and her thighs. It hadn’t been love, no, not yet, but trust—just as sweet and as precious.

Sansa could have asked him to stay, and he would have, for her; but Death stood before their gates, and there was not enough time.

There was never enough time, and she wept bitter tears for all they could never be.

[majicmarker]

i’m not usually one to write canonverse, but if y’all think i’m about to skip out on writing a theonsa HEA au to the tune of this, WELL...

i’m doin’ it.

[myrish-lace-love]

Where would you like to go today? (Theon x Sansa)

For the wonderful @theons - a little fluffy theonsa gift. :)

***

Sansa had saddled up her horse and was waiting for Theon in the courtyard. He put lecherous thoughts out of his head (most lecherous thoughts, there was no way to keep them completely at bay with a girl as beautiful as Sansa) and readied his own horse.

They traveled together rarely, only after Sansa was sick to death of Septa Mordane's lectures and Theon had suffered too much of Robb's "I'm Lord of Winterfell so you have to do what I say” strutting and preening. Normally, Sansa wouldn't acknowledge Theon as she went about the castle. That stung - he'd had dreams, once, of Ned Stark offering him Sansa's hand in marriage. Of sweeping a kraken's cloak around her shoulders. But that dream guttered out upon Joffrey’s arrival last week.  

When Sansa was seated on her roan mare and Theon on his piebald gelding, Theon gave Sansa an exaggerated bow. "So, m'lady. Where would you like to go today?"

Sansa smiled. "To the clearing.” Theon nodded, and they trotted their horses out of Winterfell's courtyard. They were careful, but one of these days they'd be seen, and Theon didn't like to dwell on the pounding he'd get from Robb. That was the price he paid as a hostage.  Sansa would escape unharmed of course, or maybe with a scolding.

It was worth it, though, when they arrived at their hideout. Sansa spread out her grey gown and shared the bread and jam she’d packed. They’d tied the horses in the corner of the clearing and from this vantage point, the castle was invisible. Their haven was ringed with pine trees, and soft needles cushioned the ground. After they'd polished off the loaf of bread, they laid back and look up at the sky as the sunlight filtered through the branches.

Sometimes Theon told her stories of krakens and seafaring and dangerous men. Sansa asked after those stories again and again, for all she wouldn’t meet his eyes in Winterfell’s corridors. Other times they shared a companionable silence that only manifested outside the Winterfell’s walls.

Today, however, Theon had brought a treat of his own – mulberry wine he’d bought in Wintertown. He and Sansa passed the bottle back and forth, until Sansa’s tongue loosened. She surprised Theon by speaking of Joffrey, and how his sneer had dimmed his golden aura.

“I know I’m to wed him, no matter how he looks down on me. I'll do my duty. But I hate that he’ll be the first man who kisses me.”

Theon’s stomach clenched.

Sansa sighed. “I overheard father and King Robert. Joffrey’s marrying me for the North, and I was stupid to think otherwise. He looks at me and sees a plain Northern girl. Not like the princesses who come to court at King’s Landing.”

“You're beautiful, Sansa,” he said, drunk on courage and liquor. “Good enough to eat. I thought so as soon as I laid eyes on Winterfell’s daughter.”

"There it is. My claim.”  

“As soon as I said eyes on Sansa Stark,” he said softly. “On you.”

Read more below or on AO3

She'd had far too much to drink as well, he was certain. Their knees touched. Her eyes were a dark shade of blue. “Theon...you could kiss me, if you liked? I know it would be a lie, of sorts. But a lovely lie, almost like a song.”

How did she do this to him? Open him up to the sun and the wind, as if her kindness could change his cruel nature?

She touched his arm. “It could be my nameday gift. Before I leave. I have to marry him, I know that, but maybe once before I go. I'm sure you've kissed redheads.”

He had, and each time he had he'd closed his eyes and thought of the girl in front of him. But that truth would sound too much like a lie, would make her think he was courting her.

Sansa's hand flicked to her mouth, then back. Theon smiled to himself. She'd been about to bite her nails. “So think of a girl with red hair, and kiss me…please.” She never abandoned her courtesies for long.

“Well…” He took her hand. He ran his thumb over her palm, and grinned when her flush deepened. Never mind the pounding in his own heart. “Since you asked so prettily.”

As soon as his lips brushed hers, Sansa gripped his jerkin and drew him closer. It was hard to ignore the desperate way Sansa clutched at his shoulder, or how she forced her tongue into his mouth.

She expects me to ravage her.

But he didn't want that memory for her. He didn't want to make this cheap, even if she did. Even if that was the only way she could excuse kissing Theon Greyjoy, her father's ward and prisoner. He wanted her to remember this kiss fondly, with warmth, later.

So he gentled the kiss, traced her lips with his, though it was a challenge, now that he knew the taste of her mouth mixed with tart wine.

Let me make this a different song for you, Sansa. He stroked her hair and some of the tension left her shoulders. She sighed, a deep exhalation that was a balm to his heart.

Sansa’s eyes were glassy when he finished by placing a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you Theon. I...perhaps my prince will never give me a kiss so sweet.”

Aye, but Joffrey will give you a title and a castle in King’s Landing. Not the wasteland of barren rocks he could offer. Not the scowl on Ned Stark’s face if Sansa were to choose him.

But Sansa was here with him now, her lips red from his kiss and the wine they’d shared. She gazed at him like he was her prince. For today - and perhaps for the rest of his life - that would have to be enough.

[asongoficeandsapphire]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Game of Thrones (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Theon Greyjoy/Sansa Stark Characters: Theon Greyjoy, Sansa Stark, The Drowned God - Character, Yara Greyjoy Additional Tags: All the domestic Theonsa, happiness, Love, Fluff, and babies, Technically baby (singular) Series: Part 4 of The Drowned God's Champion Summary:

The Drowned God was definitely and decidedly an old fusspot when it came to the baby.

[welldonebeca]

The Things We Do For Love (I)

Summary: There is nothing Theon wouldn’t do to make Sansa happy. Bringing the only other man she had ever loved into their marriage isn't the most absurd thing he would do for her. It starts with just producing an heir, but this time, duty might lose its battle to love. WC: 2.5k words Warnings: Light angst. Fluff. Post-canon. Canon divergent.

Masterlist

Theon watched with his breath suspended as the gate opened in front of him, revealing the entrance to Castleblack.

It was cold - not the coldest weather he had ever seen, but still cold.

Surprisingly, he wasn't used to it. Pain, sure... he could live with it. But not cold.

Ever since his closeness to death, with the Night King, he always felt like he would never get warm again, and hated every second of it. The only time he ever felt good was in the arms of his Queen.

And he was here for her.

The wall, a place that used to hold criminals, bastards and the worst men to walk the Earth, was now gone. Castleback and the buildings that once housed the watch were full of families, women and children.

When Sansa chose him to be her husband, he wanted to refuse. He did refuse, time and time again. Theon wasn't worthy, he could never be. She was beautiful, strong, and a true goddess. And he was nothing but a survivor.

People called him a hero, Asha said it would be tactical to join their Kingdoms, and he loved Sansa. He married her because he loved her. His wife was the woman he loved the most in the world.

She gave him her name, made him a Stark as he had always dreamed, but he didn't feel worthy of her. He wasn't the man Lord Stark would have wanted for his beautiful daughter. Ned Stark would never have let a castrated man, full of fears, be with his oldest daughter.

Sansa deserved the best in the world, to have everything she dreamed of.

She deserved a family. Children to carry and raise, to love and hold dearly to her heart.

Everything he couldn't give her.

A wilding man walked to his horse and looked at him with hard eyes.

"What is your business?"

He willed himself to speak like the prince - she wanted him to be a King, but he couldn't - he was supposed to be.

"I need to speak with King Snow," he declared.

He almost wanted to laugh. Jon Snow, the little bastard boy he had grown around, the only one under him in their hierarchy, was now a King. Years ago, if someone had told him Jon Snow was who he was - the son of Rhaegar Targaryen, the one who was supposed to be King of the Seven Kingdoms - and turned everything down to be king of the Wildlings, he would have spit in their face that that bastard was no king.

He was guided to Jon, and tried hard not to hide from the cold as the hunting party broke apart, and he left his men to go to him.

"Hello, Theon," he spoke, simply.

"Hello," he tried to keep his voice steady.

Jon looked different. Younger than the lady time he had seen him, somehow, with his hair grown into something almost like a mane, not hiding it with a bun anymore.

He looked like a king, even including the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"Is Sansa here?" he asked.

Theon shook his head.

"She is not," he told him. "I'm alone."

Jon's face changed in concern.

"Alone?" he asked. "No party."

"A few men a few miles back," he assured him. Sansa had insisted. "I needed privacy. To speak to you as a friend."

He nodded slowly.

"You are my brother," Jon affirmed simply. "We grew up together."

"I know," Theon affirmed. "That's why I'm here."

Jon seemed more confused, and he cleared his throat.

"Maybe we can talk while hunting," he offered. He hadn't gone in a hint in years. "I'm still the best sharpshooter in the Seven Kingdoms."

His friend snorted.

"I'm glad the years didn't hurt your ego," he declared. "Let me find you something warmer, and we can go."

He wanted to say no, but Jon just walked away, grabbing extra furs to wrap around him.

"Is that how you treat all the ladies?" he asked jokingly.

Jon scoffed, walking away, not waiting for Theon to follow him - just like he did when they were young - and only turned to check if he was following him when they reached the spot where he had a bow and arrows.

"Test this one," he told him and grabbed an arrow. "Just don't shoot anyone."

He chuckled, weighing it and simply shrugged.

"Not ironborn material, but it will do," he decided.

Jon just nodded, and the other men quickly welcomed him before the group left.

The snow started to faintly fall as they did, and as he felt it on his face, Theon could remember the day he was standing on the wall of Winterfell with Sansa, with her fingers clenching his and their lives on the line. At the moment, he felt that jumping would be the end of their lives - on their own terms - and he was ready for it. And so was she.

When she kissed him before they fell, he thought it was to give him a sweet memory to cling to when death swallowed them.

When she kissed him again, after he said he wasn't coming with her to Castleblack, he believed it was to show her gratitude, like the princesses in the songs always did to their knights.

But then, she kissed him again when he returned to fight for them, in front of everyone - of the Dragon Queen and her people, of the Northern Lords - and held him close, as if he was a lover she had been eager to welcome back home.

And she kissed him again after he awoke from his brush with death.

Just then, he realised there was more to it. It wasn't gratitude or a way of survival.

He realised it was love.

Love that no one ever understood, not the North, not Asha and not Jon Snow.

Even when he treated him well, he could see it in his eyes.

The same hatred he had shown on their wedding day, when he thought no one was looking, of how Sansa had fallen for Theon, of all men.

He wanted to believe it was only the sins he had committed that weighted his opinion of their union, but he knew there was something more there. The same feeling Theon had grown up with, the same desire, except that Jon couldn't voice it, even to himself. What man would admit to himself to wanting his own sister?

Now, she was his cousin.

"You can ask me about her, you know?" he spoke aloud, though not looking at Jon.

"I don't want to know," he mumbled.

Theon shook his head.

"Of course you want to know," he called him out. "You love her."

Jon turned to him so quickly Theon thought he could hurt his neck, but he didn't give him any space to interrupt him. A childhood with Jon Snow made him an expert at pushing his buttons, especially when they were so obvious.

"And she loves you," he spat. "More than you even think she does. She misses you every day, and sends you letters every week. When was the last time you even wrote to her?"

He clenched his jaw, bothered.

"I write to her," he declared, and his eyes fell on some movement in front of them. "It's just hard with the free folk, I have to help them settle in and get used to their new life."

Theon scoffed.

"Why not take her help, then?" he asked.

"Sansa might be the smartest person alive when it comes to the Seven Kingdoms, but she knows nothing about the Free Folk," he reminded him.

Theon ignored him, aiming at the rabbit just as it jumped, and Jon gasped, startled.

He chuckled, amused at his surprise, but sighed, annoyed with his damn stubbornness, something that apparently was carried in the Stark blood.

"Sansa is the reason why you were able to unite the Free Folk in the first place, the reason why we have Winterfell," he reminded him, standing in front of him and dropping his bow while someone rushed to get the rabbit. "She is the reason I'm not a disgusting bastard's pet, and you aren't in a cross, flayed alive."

Jon watched his face for a moment, scowling.

"What do you want, Greyjoy?" he asked, at last. "Why did you come after me?"

Theon grabbed another arrow, unable to say it while looking at his face.

"We need heirs and the three of us are some of the few who know I can't give it to her," he declared, keeping his eye open and following what seemed to be a stag.

"Sansa says she doesn't care," he nearly whispered. "But I know she wants children, that she wants a family."

Jon inhaled sharply.

"I'm sure there are men loyal enough to help," he spoke between teeth.

It was obvious from his tone that he was forcing himself into saying it.

"We tried," he confessed. "We stop everything before they can figure out why she needed them. Sansa... can't stop thinking about her wedding night anytime they even walk into our quarters."

Theon remembered every single time they tried to have the conversation, how he always had to come up with a reason on the spot after Sansa escaped into her room, bursting into tears. How they had to cover the invitations with requests or gifts 'for their loyalty’.

"They all judge her, Jon," he shot his arrow. "Her scarred body, her nightmares..."

He turned to him.

"I won't let her be humiliated for marrying a man who can give her children," he affirmed. "I won't let them think she is barren because of me."

Jon's nose flared up as he seemed to realise what he was asking of him.

"Have you gone mad?" he asked, looking confused and angry. "What are you suggesting?"

Theon clenched his hands in a fist.

"It doesn't matter if you don't the same way, but think of her," he pleaded. "Just give this to her. A child. A family. It's what she deserves after everything she has gone through, after all the years of suffering we both know she had to endure."

He watched as his jaw shifted.

"I know well enough what she has gone through," he grunted.

Theon just stared at him, trying to will the memories back into where he had hidden them, where he wouldn't have to remember.

"Not unless you have seen it, you don't," he remarked. "Not enough."

He would never forget her eyes staring at him, the way she cried and pleaded for his help before letting the pain numb her when he didn't.

There was a long moment of silence before any of them said anything.

"Sansa can't want me."

Theon scoffed.

"Stop being stupid for a moment, will you?" he threw him an angry look. "She loves you. She loved you when you reunited and she still loved you when you bedded the Dragon Queen."

"What are you talking about?"

Theon understood it quite well, how people can just feel love for more than one person at once - he had felt it himself at some point in his life, in a very distant time. Jon was the only man aside from Theon she could ever want.

"She told it to me herself," he remarked.

It was his fault that he had cornered herself into saying it, that Jon was the only other man she could trust in her bed - a man she always thought she could never have. And he accepted it.

Theon would kill or die for Sansa. In any other situation, if he was any other man, he would have reacted differently.

But this wasn't any other situation, and he wasn't a different man.

He loved her, and he wanted her happy. If that meant begging another man to bed her and give her children, then so be it.

He already wasn't fit to be her husband. What kind of man would he be to deny her this?

"Love and want are different," he argued.

"Not to her," Theon interrupted him. "Not when it comes to you or to me."

Then watched the stag trying to race out of their sights, but took a quick shot, making it fall, and earning cheers from the wildlings.

The Free people moved to collect the large animal, and Jon looked at him.

"Is that even what she wants?" he asked. "What if the children are found out?"

Theon scoffed. The people of the North would have loved the children even more if they found out they were Jon's and not his.

"And what would they say? Oh, this boy looks too much like Eddard Stark. This girl looks too much like Arya!" he mocked.

Jon rolled his eyes, and Theon scoffed.

"It won't happen," he promised. "Any child that comes from Sansa is my child, and princes and princesses anyway. She is the Queen."

He could see the envy on Jon's face as he watched him.

"Your child," he mumbled. "Not mine."

Theon couldn't help but wonder what hurt more: not being able to give children to the woman you loved, or not being able to claim the children you gave her as his own.

Both positions felt terrible.

"We are not doing this for us, now," he remarked. "We do it for her."

Jon was the one man Theon knew loved Sansa was much as he did. The only one he trusted, too.

It didn't matter how much it hurt him to do this, he would never let her know.

Sansa would never allow him to ask such a thing to Jon if she knew how much it hurt him, and would never accept to lay with Jon if she knew the consequences would hurt him too. For one, they would be putting her above themselves, and her happiness above everything.

"She deserves this," Jon whispered.

"No one can know of my presence," Jon looked away. "So they can't trace the children back to my visits."

Theon nodded, confirming.

It would hurt Sansa's honour if they ever doubted her faithfulness to their marriage.

"I'll leave at dawn, I'll set things up until then," he continued. "Meet me in the woods the night you arrive with your men."

He nodded along. It was best that his men didn't see Jon with him.

"We can sneak you in through the crypts. Brienne will lead you into our room."

Silence fell between them, and Jon smirked.

"Do you wonder what Robb would think of this plan?" he asked. "Of his brothers going to impregnate his sister?"

Theon couldn't keep himself from laughing.

"We would both be dead before we hit the floor." he laughed.

Jon busted in a loud laugh and then turned to him with a smile on his lips that slowly turned sad.

"Can we... you..." he interrupted himself. "Name it after him? The boy."

Theon smiled a little bit. He didn't even need to suggest it.

"Sansa was going to do it without even asking us," he assured him. "Don't worry."

There was an unsaid knowledge between them, one that Theon couldn't ring himself to touch on.

That there would be others. Other nights, and other children.

As many children as she desired.

Theon watched with his breath suspended as the gate opened in front of him, revealing the entrance to Castleblack.

It was cold - not the coldest weather he had ever seen, but still cold.

Surprisingly, he wasn't used to it. Pain, sure... he could live with it. But not cold.

Ever since his closeness to death, with the Night King, he always felt like he would never get warm again, and hated every second of it. The only time he ever felt good was in the arms of his Queen.

And he was here for her.

The wall, a place that used to hold criminals, bastards and the worst men to walk the Earth, was now gone. Castleback and the buildings that once housed the watch were full of families, women and children.

When Sansa chose him to be her husband, he wanted to refuse. He did refuse, time and time again. Theon wasn't worthy, he could never be. She was beautiful, strong, and a true goddess. And he was nothing but a survivor.

People called him a hero, Asha said it would be tactical to join their Kingdoms, and he loved Sansa. He married her because he loved her. His wife was the woman he loved the most in the world.

She gave him her name, made him a Stark as he had always dreamed, but he didn't feel worthy of her. He wasn't the man Lord Stark would have wanted for his beautiful daughter. Ned Stark would never have let a castrated man, full of fears, be with his oldest daughter.

Sansa deserved the best in the world, to have everything she dreamed of.

She deserved a family. Children to carry and raise, to love and hold dearly to her heart.

Everything he couldn't give her.

A wilding man walked to his horse and looked at him with hard eyes.

"What is your business?"

He willed himself to speak like the prince - she wanted him to be a King, but he couldn't - he was supposed to be.

"I need to speak with King Snow," he declared.

He almost wanted to laugh. Jon Snow, the little bastard boy he had grown around, the only one under him in their hierarchy, was now a King. Years ago, if someone had told him Jon Snow was who he was - the son of Rhaegar Targaryen, the one who was supposed to be King of the Seven Kingdoms - and turned everything down to be king of the Wildlings, he would have spit in their face that that bastard was no king.

He was guided to Jon, and tried hard not to hide from the cold as the hunting party broke apart, and he left his men to go to him.

"Hello, Theon," he spoke, simply.

"Hello," he tried to keep his voice steady.

Jon looked different. Younger than the lady time he had seen him, somehow, with his hair grown into something almost like a mane, not hiding it with a bun anymore.

He looked like a king, even including the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"Is Sansa here?" he asked.

Theon shook his head.

"She is not," he told him. "I'm alone."

Jon's face changed in concern.

"Alone?" he asked. "No party."

"A few men a few miles back," he assured him. Sansa had insisted. "I needed privacy. To speak to you as a friend."

He nodded slowly.

"You are my brother," Jon affirmed simply. "We grew up together."

"I know," Theon affirmed. "That's why I'm here."

Jon seemed more confused, and he cleared his throat.

"Maybe we can talk while hunting," he offered. He hadn't gone in a hint in years. "I'm still the best sharpshooter in the Seven Kingdoms."

His friend snorted.

"I'm glad the years didn't hurt your ego," he declared. "Let me find you something warmer, and we can go."

He wanted to say no, but Jon just walked away, grabbing extra furs to wrap around him.

"Is that how you treat all the ladies?" he asked jokingly.

Jon scoffed, walking away, not waiting for Theon to follow him - just like he did when they were young - and only turned to check if he was following him when they reached the spot where he had a bow and arrows.

"Test this one," he told him and grabbed an arrow. "Just don't shoot anyone."

He chuckled, weighing it and simply shrugged.

"Not ironborn material, but it will do," he decided.

Jon just nodded, and the other men quickly welcomed him before the group left.

The snow started to faintly fall as they did, and as he felt it on his face, Theon could remember the day he was standing on the wall of Winterfell with Sansa, with her fingers clenching his and their lives on the line. At the moment, he felt that jumping would be the end of their lives - on their own terms - and he was ready for it. And so was she.

When she kissed him before they fell, he thought it was to give him a sweet memory to cling to when death swallowed them.

When she kissed him again, after he said he wasn't coming with her to Castleblack, he believed it was to show her gratitude, like the princesses in the songs always did to their knights.

But then, she kissed him again when he returned to fight for them, in front of everyone - of the Dragon Queen and her people, of the Northern Lords - and held him close, as if he was a lover she had been eager to welcome back home.

And she kissed him again after he awoke from his brush with death.

Just then, he realised there was more to it. It wasn't gratitude or a way of survival.

He realised it was love.

Love that no one ever understood, not the North, not Asha and not Jon Snow.

Even when he treated him well, he could see it in his eyes.

The same hatred he had shown on their wedding day, when he thought no one was looking, of how Sansa had fallen for Theon, of all men.

He wanted to believe it was only the sins he had committed that weighted his opinion of their union, but he knew there was something more there. The same feeling Theon had grown up with, the same desire, except that Jon couldn't voice it, even to himself. What man would admit to himself to wanting his own sister?

Now, she was his cousin.

"You can ask me about her, you know?" he spoke aloud, though not looking at Jon.

"I don't want to know," he mumbled.

Theon shook his head.

"Of course you want to know," he called him out. "You love her."

Jon turned to him so quickly Theon thought he could hurt his neck, but he didn't give him any space to interrupt him. A childhood with Jon Snow made him an expert at pushing his buttons, especially when they were so obvious.

"And she loves you," he spat. "More than you even think she does. She misses you every day, and sends you letters every week. When was the last time you even wrote to her?"

He clenched his jaw, bothered.

"I write to her," he declared, and his eyes fell on some movement in front of them. "It's just hard with the free folk, I have to help them settle in and get used to their new life."

Theon scoffed.

"Why not take her help, then?" he asked.

"Sansa might be the smartest person alive when it comes to the Seven Kingdoms, but she knows nothing about the Free Folk," he reminded him.

Theon ignored him, aiming at the rabbit just as it jumped, and Jon gasped, startled.

He chuckled, amused at his surprise, but sighed, annoyed with his damn stubbornness, something that apparently was carried in the Stark blood.

"Sansa is the reason why you were able to unite the Free Folk in the first place, the reason why we have Winterfell," he reminded him, standing in front of him and dropping his bow while someone rushed to get the rabbit. "She is the reason I'm not a disgusting bastard's pet, and you aren't in a cross, flayed alive."

Jon watched his face for a moment, scowling.

"What do you want, Greyjoy?" he asked, at last. "Why did you come after me?"

Theon grabbed another arrow, unable to say it while looking at his face.

"We need heirs and the three of us are some of the few who know I can't give it to her," he declared, keeping his eye open and following what seemed to be a stag.

"Sansa says she doesn't care," he nearly whispered. "But I know she wants children, that she wants a family."

Jon inhaled sharply.

"I'm sure there are men loyal enough to help," he spoke between teeth.

It was obvious from his tone that he was forcing himself into saying it.

"We tried," he confessed. "We stop everything before they can figure out why she needed them. Sansa... can't stop thinking about her wedding night anytime they even walk into our quarters."

Theon remembered every single time they tried to have the conversation, how he always had to come up with a reason on the spot after Sansa escaped into her room, bursting into tears. How they had to cover the invitations with requests or gifts 'for their loyalty’.

"They all judge her, Jon," he shot his arrow. "Her scarred body, her nightmares..."

He turned to him.

"I won't let her be humiliated for marrying a man who can give her children," he affirmed. "I won't let them think she is barren because of me."

Jon's nose flared up as he seemed to realise what he was asking of him.

"Have you gone mad?" he asked, looking confused and angry. "What are you suggesting?"

Theon clenched his hands in a fist.

"It doesn't matter if you don't the same way, but think of her," he pleaded. "Just give this to her. A child. A family. It's what she deserves after everything she has gone through, after all the years of suffering we both know she had to endure."

He watched as his jaw shifted.

"I know well enough what she has gone through," he grunted.

Theon just stared at him, trying to will the memories back into where he had hidden them, where he wouldn't have to remember.

"Not unless you have seen it, you don't," he remarked. "Not enough."

He would never forget her eyes staring at him, the way she cried and pleaded for his help before letting the pain numb her when he didn't.

There was a long moment of silence before any of them said anything.

"Sansa can't want me."

Theon scoffed.

"Stop being stupid for a moment, will you?" he threw him an angry look. "She loves you. She loved you when you reunited and she still loved you when you bedded the Dragon Queen."

"What are you talking about?"

Theon understood it quite well, how people can just feel love for more than one person at once - he had felt it himself at some point in his life, in a very distant time. Jon was the only man aside from Theon she could ever want.

"She told it to me herself," he remarked.

It was his fault that he had cornered herself into saying it, that Jon was the only other man she could trust in her bed - a man she always thought she could never have. And he accepted it.

Theon would kill or die for Sansa. In any other situation, if he was any other man, he would have reacted differently.

But this wasn't any other situation, and he wasn't a different man.

He loved her, and he wanted her happy. If that meant begging another man to bed her and give her children, then so be it.

He already wasn't fit to be her husband. What kind of man would he be to deny her this?

"Love and want are different," he argued.

"Not to her," Theon interrupted him. "Not when it comes to you or to me."

Then watched the stag trying to race out of their sights, but took a quick shot, making it fall, and earning cheers from the wildlings.

The Free people moved to collect the large animal, and Jon looked at him.

"Is that even what she wants?" he asked. "What if the children are found out?"

Theon scoffed. The people of the North would have loved the children even more if they found out they were Jon's and not his.

"And what would they say? Oh, this boy looks too much like Eddard Stark. This girl looks too much like Arya!" he mocked.

Jon rolled his eyes, and Theon scoffed.

"It won't happen," he promised. "Any child that comes from Sansa is my child, and princes and princesses anyway. She is the Queen."

He could see the envy on Jon's face as he watched him.

"Your child," he mumbled. "Not mine."

Theon couldn't help but wonder what hurt more: not being able to give children to the woman you loved, or not being able to claim the children you gave her as his own.

Both positions felt terrible.

"We are not doing this for us, now," he remarked. "We do it for her."

Jon was the one man Theon knew loved Sansa was much as he did. The only one he trusted, too.

It didn't matter how much it hurt him to do this, he would never let her know.

Sansa would never allow him to ask such a thing to Jon if she knew how much it hurt him, and would never accept to lay with Jon if she knew the consequences would hurt him too. For one, they would be putting her above themselves, and her happiness above everything.

"She deserves this," Jon whispered.

"No one can know of my presence," Jon looked away. "So they can't trace the children back to my visits."

Theon nodded, confirming.

It would hurt Sansa's honour if they ever doubted her faithfulness to their marriage.

"I'll leave at dawn, I'll set things up until then," he continued. "Meet me in the woods the night you arrive with your men."

He nodded along. It was best that his men didn't see Jon with him.

"We can sneak you in through the crypts. Brienne will lead you into our room."

Silence fell between them, and Jon smirked.

"Do you wonder what Robb would think of this plan?" he asked. "Of his brothers going to impregnate his sister?"

Theon couldn't keep himself from laughing.

"We would both be dead before we hit the floor." he laughed.

Jon busted in a loud laugh and then turned to him with a smile on his lips that slowly turned sad.

"Can we... you..." he interrupted himself. "Name it after him? The boy."

Theon smiled a little bit. He didn't even need to suggest it.

"Sansa was going to do it without even asking us," he assured him. "Don't worry."

There was an unsaid knowledge between them, one that Theon couldn't ring himself to touch on.

That there would be others. Other nights, and other children.

As many children as she desired.

. . .

"The Things we do For Love" was posted on my Patreon back in May! To read it fully and get access to many other works before they are posted here and Patreon-Only posts, consider subscribing to my page! It's only $2 a month!

. . .

Forever Tags: @emoryhemsworth​​​ @amythyststorm33​​​ @shaelyn102​​​ @yknott81​​​ ​​ @letsdisneythings​​​ @maximofftrash​​​ @kgbrenner​​​ @thefridgeismybestie​​​ @magpiegirl80​​​ @mogaruke​​​ @shadowhunter7​​​ @musicalcoffeebean​​​ @megasimpleplan4ever​​​ @deemoriarty​​​ @05spn18​​​ @malindacath​​​ @kdcollinsauthor​​​ @random-fandom-fangirl2112​​​ @widowsfics​​​ @frozenhuntress67​​​ @averyrogers83​​​ @notyourtypicalrose​​​ @nerdypinupcrystal​ @giruvega​

Game of Thrones tags: @izbelross @ietss Jonsa Tags: @cosmic-darikano

[tinytendril]

a string that ties to you | Modern AUs

A collection of drabbles and one-shots based on sentence prompts, many of which will contain fluff and general romance. This collection is Robbaery-centric, but will include Theonsa, Gendrya, and Jon x Ygritte. Tags will change to reflect any additional ships.

1) Can I pet your dog? Do I know you? - Robbaery

2) OH you're jealous - Theonsa - High School AU

[treaddelicately]

In case anyone was curious, I’ve started working on my new Theonsa multichapter fic (psst, it’s a sort of sequel to Hurt Somebody!!) and the first step is outlining and building my playlist. Here’s just a little taste of the 37 songs so far, but it’s pretty all over the place.

It’s also a hell of a lot of fluff. 😉

[megaunhappybunny]

Self rec time! Rec one of your fluff fics, one angst, one multichaptered, one AU and send this to your favourite writers 💟💟

Oh gosh, well I...thanks, anon. 😊

Fluff: I guess anything from my Lightfic series (Part I, Part II, Part III). I can’t choose just one, but there’s something in there for everyone.

Pairings: Throbb, Theonsa, Greysnow, Theyne, others...

Angst: I guess I’ll go with Transference.

Pairings: Greysnow (Jon/Theon), past Thramsay

Technically a two-shot, but it’s angsty without being...too dark, shall we say?

Multi-chapter: Phantom Life.

Summary: Theon is blessed with a wonderful marriage to his high school sweetheart, two beautiful children, and loving friends and family. But is his life a dream come true? Or just a dream?

Pairings: Throbb

This is one of my shorter multi-chapter fics, and it folds into canon. Plus, it still holds a special place for me. So check it out. Y’know. If you want...

AU: Android Dreams and Electric Sheep.

Summary: Robb fixes Theon. Literally. Theon fixes Robb. Metaphorically.

Pairings: Throbb, background Thramsay

Do you like robots? Do you like angsty Throbb? Then boy did I ever write...a thing.

[anniebibananie]

If We Never Try (We’ll Never Know) | rating: T | 8,792 words

"Out of all the unfortunate things to happen in Sansa’s life, she thought the most might just be the fact that somehow in the four years since she’d seen him Theon Greyjoy got hot."

And somehow that lead to him becoming her fake boyfriend? Sansa wasn't all that sure how it happened, either.

[jeyne-stark]

Anon asked for Theonsa and 12 — things you said when you thought i was asleep.

(Send a ship and a number and I’ll write you a minific)

Sansa drifts comfortably into wakefulness, not bothering to move. Her featherbed is soft, and her furs are thick and warm, and surely the realm can survive without their queen for at least a few more minutes. Besides, Theon is still in bed with her, his arms strong and sure around her, and that means it must not even be dawn yet—Theon is always long gone before her maids come in to wake her. If he didn’t fall asleep in her arms every night, slipping into her bedchambers long after everyone else is abed, she would wonder if he even sleeps at all.

She knows it’s necessary—the Queen and her Hand can ill-afford rumors about their relationship, and they cannot marry, as much as they might wish they could. If there were no titles before their names, if they were no-one else but themselves, then they could live together and nobody would gainsay them; but she is the Queen in the North, and he is her Hand. There are so many things that their fates deny them; waking up in her lover’s arms and spending a long, lingering morning together is not the least of them.

He shifts in her arms, his hand brushing a stray lock of hair back from her cheek and smoothing over her hair.

“I love you,” he whispers.

She opens her eyes a crack, just enough to peek through her lashes and see his face. His eyes are soft and his mouth curves into a gentle smile, as though she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. She can’t help but to smile as well. After everything, it seems impossible that they could have this together, that she could wake up in the arms of the man she trusts with everything she has.

“I love you too,” she whispers back, and kisses him.

[willexxmercer]

Six sentence Sunday!!

Challenge: post six(ish) sentences from a WIP (or add six sentences to a WIP if you prefer).

I’m a day late but since when do I ever follow the rules with these things?  @dylanobrienisbatman​ tagged me so here’s excerpts from three of my current WIPs!  And of course, I have my CSSS, Theonsa Yuletide, and Chopped Holiday Exchange fics, but no one gets to know what I’m working on for those :P

I’m gonna tag anyone who wants to do it (xD)

Captain Swan Life As We Know It au (They Picked Us)

If knowing Killian Jones was a nightmare, living with him was like being in the fiery pits of hell itself.  After an awkward conversation outside Dr Hopper’s office, they had decided to move temporarily into Mary Margaret and David’s house, if only to keep Leo comfortable.  Emma had immediately started a “to do” list, which included creating a schedule for looking after the baby and household chores - Killian had looked at it once, and pronounced it “unnecessary.”

“We need to keep ourselves organized!” she had argued, bouncing Leo on her hip and glaring across at Killian, who was dressed all in leather.  What was his fascination with leather?  She quickly squashed the thought - it wasn’t worth it to dwell on the inner intricacies of Killian’s mind.

Theonsa Modern au (Something About the Sunshine)

“Are you okay?” he asked, reaching for her elbow then seemingly reconsidering.  Sansa nodded quickly, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Yeah,” she breathed, offering a tight-lipped smile.  “It’s nothing, really.”  Theon didn’t need to know about Joffrey.  It was her problem, really, and not even Margaery knew the full extent of how her boyfriend could be during one of his angry moments.  Why would she tell a guy she hadn’t even seen for three years?

Echoven fluff (set after the finale)

There was plenty of chatter from the beach filtering through the trees, but Echo tuned it all out in favour of offering a small smile as Raven led her through the forest.

“Where are we going?” she asked, impulsively checking on Raven’s leg, making sure the other girl was steady on her feet with the bumpy terrain.  The other girl chuckled, turning around and facing her.

“This is probably far enough,” she said, tilting her head to the side.  “We just really haven’t gotten a moment alone in... a while.”

Echo nodded, shrugging a shoulder.