Chapter Text

The heat from the lights is starting to make Jon sweat. He can already feel the little drops forming on his hairline, his make-up starting to feel cakey on his face. And he tries everything in his power not to squint against the lights that are shining so brightly into his eyes. Thank the Gods he is wearing black (as usual), or otherwise the people in the audience and the people watching from home could actually see him sweating through his clothes.

You would think that after six years of doing interviews and tv appearances to promote ‘The Crows' Jon would get better at it, but alas. He is still as awkward as he was in the beginning. Unlike his charismatic bandmates who seem to have no problem with this kind of torture. He wonders how and when Tormund, Pyp and Grenn became so good at it. Every question that is fired at them, no matter the topic, they always know some smart and pleasing answer that Jon could never come up with. Even after years of heavy media training.

And today is no exception. The hosts of Tyrell’s Tea Time, brother and sister duo Loras and Margaery Tyrell, are firing question after question, and his bandmates answer all of them without missing a beat. All the while Jon is dutifully sitting in his chair. Every now and then he will look into the audience and smile at them, praying he doesn’t look as awkward as he thinks he does. It doesn’t help that this isn’t their normal audience either. ‘The Crows' usually play for a rougher type of crowd, but today he is to entertain a bunch of forty-something-year-old,s who like gossip and esthetically pleasing things. Esthetically pleasing things like the soft pastels used for the interior of the studio, the fluffy materials of the chairs and the cunning, but oh so charming hosts of the show.

The only reason they’ve accepted the gig is because Tyrell’s Tea Time is Tormund’s mother’s favorite morning talk show. And because none of them had the balls to say no to Mrs. Giantsbane, the four bandmembers of The Crows were up and in the studio bright and early on a Wednesday morning for their hair and make-up.

At least the make-up artist had been nice. Satin had tried his best to keep the make-up to a minimum and he actually managed to make Jon’s unruly curls look decent, so he too would look esthetically pleasing for once. Luckily for him his small efforts seem to be working. He’s even gotten a few winks from the ladies in the front row (including Tormund’s mother) and the Tyrells seem pleased enough with the answers provided by the other bandmembers.

Jon keeps his face intact as he tries his best to remain on the background. Even though he is the lead singer and loves performing, he’s never been known to talk much about his private life. Or talk much in general. So while the rest of the band chatters on, Jon is already daydreaming about what he’ll do once they’re finished here.

It’s Wednesday and that means his favorite youtuber will post a new video in a few hours. He wonders what she has in store for them today. Her videos about the history of Westeros are always on point, the stories she tells so captivating, the decorations in the background are beautifully connected with the theme of the video and professional looking. Even though she makes most of them herself. She truly puts a lot of effort into her videos.

Another thing that sparks his interest is that the host of the channel is really pretty. Like super model pretty. Jon is a bit embarrassed to admit he’s had a bit of a crush on her for the past two years since following her channel. Which is kind of silly, considering the fact that he’s never even met her before. Oh well, he’s allowed to daydream. And that is exactly what he’s planning to do for the remainder of the interview.

So far so good. It’s all going according to plan and it seems like Jon can actually get away with just nodding and smiling every now and then. That is until Margaery decides to switch topics. Swiftly, like a true professional, she steers the conversation from music and their new album to something that the general audience that watches Tyrell’s Tea Time probably find more interesting. Jon’s personal life.

Jon is startled, realizing the last question was specifically addressed to him. Margaery must have smelled his fear, judging by the predatory look on her face. Nervously, Jon takes a sip from the pink teacup the producers had placed in front of him at the beginning of the show. The lukewarm liquid helping to calm some of his nerves. He tries very hard not to panic, while watching Margaery’s self-satisfied smirk. He wonders if her expression is as clear to the audience as it is to him.

“So Jon,” She says, voice smooth and smirk still in place. “I think most of the ladies in Westeros, and probably also the men, wonder if there is a special person who inspires you to write some of these love songs we can hear on the new album. Isn’t that true, ladies?” The last part clearly pointed to the audience and they answer with a collective WHOOO!

Jon can actually feel his cheeks redden, his tongue thickens in his mouth. He really doesn’t like it when people pry into his private life, but with a show like this the question was to be expected.

“No,” He chuckles awkwardly, taking another sip. “Sorry to disappoint, but no. I’m still single.”

“Well, isn’t that good to hear.” Loras chimes in as he wiggles his eyebrows, making the audience laugh. His sister, however, does not laugh along. Instead, she straightens in her fluffy chair, her perfectly manicured nails ticking impatiently on the mahogany table they’re seated at. As if she could smell his answer wasn’t entirely truthful and she is now searching for blood. His blood to be exact.

“You must be very talented and creative if you can come up with these lyrics without experiencing feelings for someone.”

Jon swallows the saliva that has gathered in his mouth before shrugging. Trying to ignore a certain youtuber that popped into his head. “It’s not like I’ve never had romantic feelings before. I have dated in the past.”

“Just not now?”

“Just not now.” Jon agrees.

“Okay,” Margaery continues. “And say you were searching for a new romance, what qualities does this hypothetical person needs to possess? Just asking for a friend.” She finishes with a wink to the camera.

“I would like it if she, uhmm, if she’s interested in history, maybe.”

With that information Loras playfully pats his sister’s shoulder. “Sorry Margy, I guess that rules you out.” The audience is laughing again. And so are his bandmates. And now even Margaery laughs along. She briefly fake-pouts to the camera before focusing her attention back to Jon. It seems she is not willing to let this topic go.

“So you’re big on history, huh?”

This time Jon doesn’t even need to answer, because Grenn has taken the honor with a snort.

“Big on history is an understatement. He’s the biggest history nerd you’ll ever meet!”

“Yeah!” Pyp laughs, backing up Grenn. “He’s got books, costumes and everything. He even wears the costumes too! You should see him in his Night's Watch cloak. Isn’t that right, Lord Commander?”

That was a bit more of information than he was willing to share. Forcing Jon to just cover his eyes with his hand, while his bandmates continue taking the piss with him. His discomfort making this ten times funnier for them than it actually is. And then Tormund slaps Grenn’s shoulder, apparently just remembering something to add to Jon’s embarrassment.

“Don’t forget his pride and joy!” He laughs, his loud voice booming through the studio and without a doubt through hundreds of Westerosi living rooms. “Ask him about his sword collection!”

“NO! Do not ask me about my sword collection!” He pleads. The comment making Pyp and Grenn laugh even harder.

Margaery just raises a single eyebrow in question. Oh, and of course there is that smirk again. Apparently, Jon hasn’t suffered enough today.

“Okay, let’s see. So she must like history, history books, costumes,” She lists on her fingers.

“Sword collections,” Loras casually adds.

“Sword collections, yes, and what about looks? Any preferences?”

A drop of sweat slowly makes its way down Jon’s back as he carefully considers his next answer. He wonders if the heat is coming from the lights or the expectant looks from the two hosts and the rest of the audience. Probably a combination of both.

“No preferences.” He answers through clenched teeth.

“LIAR!” His bandmates yell in unison, continuing laughing their asses off. Oh, if looks could kill, all three of them would be dead on the ground. “Jon is into redheads!”

“I’M NOT!” Jon protests and the look on his face must scream utter betrayal with a hint of panic.

“Don’t even try it, Snow. One time we were at this wedding, a real fancy happening so I wore my luscious locks down for the occasion,” Tormund says as he flicks his ginger hair over his shoulders with his hands, while simultaneously fluttering his lashes. “And during the feast Jon got so drunk he even tried hitting on me!”

“But that’s just because you’re so charming. It had nothing to do with your hair.”

“Yeah right,” Tormund says before turning to the two hosts of the show. Both of them looking like they’re having a field day. “Ask him about his Wednesday afternoon activities. Go on, ask him.”

Loras can’t seem to wait to take the bait, facing Jon with an innocent smile. “Please do tell us about your Wednesday afternoon activities, Jon.”

Guiltily, Jon looks at his thumbs. Twirling them around before softly answering. “I watch a history channel on Youtube.”

“And what is that channel called?” Tormund pries, completely ignoring the murderous glare in Jon’s eyes.

“It’s called Rehehisry.” The name of the channel is mumbled and spoken so softly Jon is certain no one could hear him correctly. But of course Tormund won’t let him get away with it.

“What was that? I don’t think the audience could hear you, Jon.”

“It is called… Red Head History.” And with that the whole studio bursts into laughter. Grenn is holding his sides and Pyp is wiping tears from his eyes. All the while Tormund is wearing this smug look on his face.

After a while the laughter dies down a little bit. Only Pyp’s high squeals are heard every now and then, but there is enough silence to continue the interview. Jon is not entirely sure if he should be pleased by that. Definitely not when he notices Margaery making eye contact with one of the producers, who only nods to her in return.

“Okay, let’s continue with this conversation, because I want to know everything about this Red Head History-girl,” Margaery goes on, straightening her back before turning to the audience. “Don’t you agree, ladies and gentlemen?” The simultaneous ‘YEAAH!’ that she gets in response makes Jon groan.

“Let’s see if we can get her on the big screen. Yep, there she is.” Within seconds a variety of ‘Ooohs’ and ‘Aaahs’ fills the studio as a thumbnail picture of one of RedHead’s video's is shown on the big screen behind Jon’s head, and also on a smaller screen on the side of the mahogany table. Making it easier for him to see her.

Jon actually recognizes the video. It’s the one where she talks about the different fashion styles of former Northern royals. On the thumbnail she is wearing a replica of king Torrhen’s crown, The last King in the North. And she looks absolutely adorable, smiling into the camera, the crown clearly too big and a bit askew on top of her head. The dark material of the crown makes her red hair look even brighter and shinier than normal. He can’t take his eyes off of her.

“Well, she is very pretty and definitely a redhead.” Jon vaguely hears one of the hosts comment, but he is too occupied with the screen on his side to know which one of them it was. “What’s her name?”

“Sansa,” Jon replies without thinking. Without taking his eyes off the screen.

Something else is said as he hears a soft mumbling coming from his right, but his brain takes a while to remember that he’s actually in the middle of an interview. Unfortunately, the mumbling was addressed towards him, he realizes when he looks up. Slowly he blinks the confusion from his eyes as the rest of the table just stares at him. Everyone apart from Pyp, who’s looking up at the ceiling, trying his very best not to start laughing again.

Loras clears his throat before repeating his question. “Apart from her obvious and breathtaking beauty, what else is so interesting about this Sansa?”

And that’s when it happens. Something that has never happened to him during interviews before. Jon actually talks… A lot. He starts with talking about her video’s, how everything she discusses is backed up with facts and believable sources, how her endless knowledge on northern history never fails to amaze him, how she is one of the only channels brave enough to be critical of the Targaryen Dynasty, her creativity, the decorations she makes and on and on he goes. He’s just in the middle of praising her video’s on northern fashion when Margaery finally interrupts him.

“It looks like you’re down bad, Jon Snow.” She giggles, making Jon’s cheeks feel redder than ever before. He feels Grenn’s hand clasping on his shoulder and he knows better than to think it a sign of support.

“Sansa, if you’re watching this,” Grenn begins, looking directly into the camera, his voice the perfect mix of sincerity and innocence. “Jon wants to show you his sword collection.”

“Oh, shut up!” Jon pushes the hand from his shoulder, while the rest of the band start laughing again. He actually turns to push Grenn a second time, but he’s swiftly stopped by Loras’s sing-songy voice announcing the upcoming break.

“And after the break The Crows will perform one of their new songs live here on Tyrell’s Tea Time. See you then.”

Loras does a brief smile and wave to the camera and then they are notified they’re off air for the time being. Satin and some other make-up artists enter the stage, quickly touching up everyone’s hair and make-up. In the corner of his eye Jon sees some of the stagehands set up the instruments for their performance after the break. Margaery and Loras are discussing something with the show’s producer, all of them looking very pleased and before Jon knows it it’s time to start the show again. The band is asked to take their places behind the instruments, and Jon goes to stand behind the mic as the camera turns back to Margaery and Loras.

The duo is standing in front of the table, next to the smaller screen when the countdown begins.

“Welcome back to Tyrell’s Tea Time,” Loras says, clasping his hands together and a permanent smile plastered onto his face. “We are here with The Crows and as promised they’re going to perform one of their latest hits live here in our studio.”

“For we begin,” Margaery continues, wearing the same smile as her brother. She quickly glances towards Jon and then turns the screen around so it’s in Jon’s direct line of sight. The screen is still displaying Sansa’s beautiful face. And behind him Jon can hear his bandmates snicker. Along with the rest of the audience. “Are you ready, boys? Here are The Crows with ‘R U mine!”

The studio erupts into screams and applause, before Tormund begins to count them down with his sticks. Jon hears the guitars, grabs the mic, takes one last look at Sansa’s face and then does the thing that he does best. Perform.

I’M A PUPPET ON A STRING
TRACEY ISLAND, TIME-TRAVELING DIAMOND
CUTTER SHAPED HEARTACHES..

Every now and then he glances back to Sansa’s thumbnail picture. And he hates to admit it, but it does kind of feel like he’s singing to her. It makes him bolder, feeling every single word through his entire body before they leave his lips. He sings one chorus, the second verse, another chorus and then they’ve reached the bridge. Feeling more daring than ever before he looks back to his bandmates. This time it is him who's wearing the smirk, turning back towards the audience, taking the mic out of the stand,

AND THE THRILL OF THE CHASE
MOVES IN MYSTERIOUS WAYS
SO IN CASE I’M MISTAKEN, I-
JUST WANNA HEAR YOU SAY IT,
SANSA, BABY, ARE YOU MINE?

2 Days later

A knock on his bedroom door makes him look up from his book. He knows it’s Gilly, their social media manager, before she even enters, because she is the only one decent enough to knock. The four bandmembers are renting an apartment together in the Riverlands for two days before making their way back home to Castle Black. The apartment big enough for each of them to have their own rooms. Jon loves his bandmembers. They truly are his best friends, but sometimes Jon simply needs some time of his own.

“Hey,” Gilly says softly as she enters his room, phone in hand as usual. “how are you?”

Jon sighs before answering. “Fine, I guess. Ready to go home and forget I’ve made a fool of myself two days ago.” He rubs his face with his hand, stretching his body so his back makes a loud pop. Only now he realizes he’s been laying in the same position for at least an hour and a half, reading about the beginnings of the religion of the Seven.

“I thought it was pretty cute.”

“Come on, Gill. I know I’ve embarrassed myself with my ramblings. And not only myself. I probably embarrassed her as well.”

Gilly pushes herself away from the door and Jon pulls back his legs to make room for her on the foot of his bed. She sits down, a cheeky glint in her eyes as she places her phone in his lap.

“Something tells me she isn’t that upset with your little love declaration on national tv.” She giggles.

Jon looks down at the phone, the band’s Instagram page showing on the screen. The frown on Jon’s face slowly disappears as he sees a picture of Sansa, the corners of his lips automatically turning up. Sansa is standing next to a wooden, heavy-looking double door. A bright smile on her face, eyes sparkling a clear blue and her hands pointing at the sign above the door. ‘Northern weaponry collection’ it says. The picture is clearly taken at the Northern History museum.

“Have you read the caption?”

Carefully, his thumb swipes over the screen. His eyes scrolling down past the likes to read the caption. Their band’s Instagram page is tagged and then he reads;

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours, Jon Snow!”

Chapter Text

Sansa takes a deep breath as she walks through the hallway of the Northern History museum, relishing in the silence. Through the large windows, the last bright sunbeams of the summer season shine down on her moving form. It’s the first week of September and that means this year’s peak is finally over. Not that she doesn’t enjoy all different kinds of people coming to see what the museum has to offer, on the contrary. She loves sharing her knowledge and her fondness of the Northern culture with others. But it simply gets tiring sometimes to try to engage with rowdy children and bored teenagers. Especially when it is clear that said teenagers weren’t visiting voluntarily, but were rather forced by their parents to indulge in some cultural activities.

And then there were also the large groups of tourists that really got on her nerves the last couple of weeks. Most of them were very well behaved, but some of them had absolutely no shame whatsoever. One even jumped over the security ropes to try on the royal blue cloak that used to belong to lady Lynara of Winterfell. Luckily the security guard was alert enough to prevent any damage from happening.

So obviously Sansa does feel relieved that after six weeks the bored teenagers and the ignorant tourists have left, along with the suffocating heath. Sansa finally feels like she can breathe again. The serenity of the past two days have helped enormously to get back into her work flow. And this morning she was able to put the final touches on her newest video, which is currently being uploaded to Youtube.

Part 1 of 2 episodes wherein she discusses the origins of The Night’s watch. The Watchers on the Wall she’s called it. A request by one of her most loyal viewers. Another reason why she was set to finish the product no matter the cost. WhiteWolfCB, as the account is called, has been following her for a good two years now and has become one of her favorite viewers. They always make sure to comment on every video and she’s had multiple brain nurturing conversations with them in the past.

Sansa would’ve hated it if she weren’t able to finish the video on time, but against all odds she managed to do it anyway. Enough reason for a small celebration by getting her favorite coconut flavored iced coffee at the museum’s cafeteria. Accompanied by a delicious slice of lemon cake.

She’s on her way back to her little office at the end of the hallway. That’s where she works on and shoots most of her video’s. At first she started making them as a project for her master’s degree in Northern History, while also hoping to improve her IT skills and helping the museum gain a bit more popularity. They quickly became a big hit. And now, a little over 2 years later, she is in proud possession of a master’s degree, a fulltime job at the museum and a youtube channel with
almost 20K followers.

It's half past eleven when Sansa sits back down at her desk. A quick look on her laptop shows the video has finished uploading. She gets everything set for the video to be online at 4pm sharp and then gets to work on the script for next week’s episode. Every now and then she takes a sip of her ice coffee, while softly mumbling some of the lines that she’d already written down.

She’s on her last bite of lemon cake and that is when she hears it. A rumbling of sorts. It starts softly, but it gets louder and louder as seconds go by. Sansa can only describe the sound as a herd of animals coming directly her way. The only thing separating them is her wooden office door, but that doesn’t seem like much of an obstacle for the herd of wildebeest at the other side of the door. Anxiously, she takes another sip of her half-finished coffee as she braces herself for impact . This is exactly what Simba’s dad must have felt like right before he got overrun in that one traumatic scene. The only difference being that these wildebeest can talk apparently.

A muffled choir of ‘HE’S IN LOVE WITH YOU’S’ is coming her way and somehow the choir sounds very familiar. Confused, she opens the door and it is then that she looks right in the faces of her four Stark siblings, accompanied by Theon and Gendry. For some reason all of them look red and sweaty as they seem to be trying to convey some kind of message to her. And it must be very urgent judging by the shared panicked look on their faces.

“WILL YOU SHUT UP?!” Robb finally screams at the rest of the group before turning back to her. He’s heavily panting and trying his very best to collect himself. To her surprise the rest of the group is actually silent. They’re all expectantly staring at her while waiting for Robb to speak.

“Are you guys okay?” Sansa wants to know. “What on earth is going o-”

Before she’s even able to finish the sentence she’s silenced by her brother’s finger.

“Shhhhhh…” He says while pushing his sweaty finger against her lips. Sansa swats his finger away and then raises her brow in question.

“He – He is in love with you.”

This confuses Sansa even more.

“Who is in love with me?”

“JON SNOW is in love with you.”

The name does sound familiar, but she doesn’t recall where she’s heard it before.

“Who is Jon Snow again?” She asks, still as confused as she was 5 minutes ago. A collective gasp is heard throughout the hallway and this time it’s Theon that steps forward. He grabs both of her shoulders and shakes her as if that will help refresh her memory.

“The lead singer of the fucking Crows. That’s who fucking Jon Snow is. And he is in love with you.” His hands move from her shoulders as his arms wrap around her head. Holding her left cheek against his chest in an embrace. “He’s in love with our little Sansa.”

Ah, that’s right. The Crows are her family’s all time favorite band. Only her mom and herself being excluded from the fandom. It’s not so much that she doesn’t like them, their music is decent enough, it’s just not her cup of tea. They obviously can’t compare to Taylor Swift’s music and she still doesn't understand how her family can think that Jon Snow is in love with her.

Brows squeezed together, she gently frees herself from Theon’s chokehold. She takes a breath, trying to calm herself and suppress the annoyance that’s starting to form in her belly. She then turns back to her siblings.

“This is ridiculous, you guys.” She says, pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “Jon Snow is not in love with me, okay? He’s never even met me. Now please leave so I can get back to work.”

“But it’s true,” Bran tries and this does surprise her. Bran is normally the most levelheaded of Sansa’s siblings, so it’s kind of weird that he’s involved in this little prank. “We can prove it.”

The rest of the group nods in agreement and before she knows it, Sansa is pushed back into her office and seated in her chair. As Bran takes ahold of her laptop, logging in on some streaming service, Sansa keeps trying to protest that this is absolutely insane. However, she’s quickly shot down by the rest of her siblings. Shushing her to silence. Even Gendry joins in on it.

“Watch this.” Bran says after he finally found the video, but before he can press play they’re interrupted by someone’s ringtone. The sound making her jump in her seat. Sansa quickly glances at her phone, even though she knows it can’t be her phone that just scared the living shit out of her. Hers has been on silent all morning. However she does notice three missed calls from her father and one from her uncle Benjen. That’s odd.

The sound of the ringtone stops as abruptly as it started as Arya picks up her phone. A little *pling* indicating that she’s just started a facetime call.

“Hey dad,” She says, holding the phone in front of her face.

“Has she watched it yet?” The voice of her father echo’s through Sansa’s small office. Weird, she’s never heard him so excited before.

“No,” her sister answers. “But Bran was just about to press play before you interrupted us.”

Arya holds her phone out so their dad can see everyone present in the room. A mixture of ‘Hey dad,’ and ‘Hello, Mr. Stark’ ensues. On the small screen of Arya’s phone Sansa can see her dad wave back to his offspring and in the background she can see her uncle Benjen waving as well.

“Hello sweetheart,” Ned says when he notices her. Sansa waves back open mouthed.

“Hi dad,” She says, confusion clearly present in her voice. “who taught you how to facetime?”

“That is so not important right now!” Robb adds impatiently. “Bran press play, and you,” He says, pointing back at her. Ew, there’s that sweaty finger again. “You watch this video right now!”

The video starts and Sansa turns to the screen with a sigh, doing as she’s told. She recognizes the two hosts of Tyrell’s Tea Time, a morning talk show Sansa and her mom sometimes watch together. Margaery and Loras are sitting at the head of the humungous mahogany table, covered from head to toe in the latest King’s Landing fashion. They are joined by four men all dressed in black t-shirts and jeans. Clearly the bandmembers of The Crows. It’s almost kind of comical how out of place they look against the soft pastels of the studio interior, but that’s quickly forgotten by the funny and charming answers the four bandmembers manage to come up with.

Well, all but one to be honest. The guy on the right, the one with the beautiful dark curls and the full pouty lips, hasn’t added much to the conversation. Occasionally he’ll nod along or hums or gives a closed mouthed smile to the audience, but other than that he doesn’t do very much. It’s almost like he isn’t really present. Like his mind is distracted by something else. That is until Margaery thinks it time to include him in the interview.

“I think most of the ladies in Westeros, and probably also the men, wonder if there is a special person who inspires you to write some of these love songs we can hear on the new album. Isn’t that true, ladies?” She says with a voice smooth as silk.

And that is when everything finally becomes clear.

In the next couple of minutes she sees how he nervously answers questions about his love life, if he’s dating anyone and what he looks for in a girlfriend. She watches as his bandmates make fun of his love for history and mention his costumes and his sword collection. Something that she actually thinks is really cute. Also, she wouldn’t exactly mind seeing Jon Snow in his Lord Commanders cloak. The man is sexy as hell. And the way he sits with his arms across his chest really helps defining his strong and muscular arms that were made to swing a sword.

She tries to look for her iced coffee, feeling hot because of all of them being cramped inside her little office and definitely not because of Jon Snow’s rumbling low voice, only to discover that Rickon has stolen the rest of her drink. She quickly gives him an angry glare before her eyes turn back to the lovely history nerd on her screen.

Just in time to hear the bulky guy with the long hair snitch on how Jon is into redheads. That is very useful information she thinks as she twirls a lock of her own red hair around her fingers. But it still doesn’t have to mean anything. Really, if her siblings interrupted her precious work hours just because this guy is into redheads she will make them pay for it.

But that is before she hears him say it. At first it’s a soft mumble and she can’t really make out what he says. But when he is forced to repeat himself she hears him loud and clear.

“It’s called … Red Head History.” He says in that beautiful thick northern accent and Sansa actually lets out a gasp.

“O My Goodness, Jon Snow watches my channel!”

“I know, I know,” Arya responds equally as excited. “Now shut up and watch the rest.”

Sansa dutifully turns back to the screen, before she’s forced to gasp again.

“Look, it’s you!” She hears the little worm of a coffee thief say. But he’s right. Right there on the screen is a picture of her. Or more specifically, a picture of one of her video’s. Shown on one of Westeros most watched TV shows, for the entire country to see. She really could’ve used another sip of ice coffee right now, because her face feels as if it’s on fire.

Luckily, the camera turns back to Jon, who for one reason or another looks pretty occupied with the little screen on the side of the table.

“Sansa,” He answers when Loras asks for her name and the third gasp of the day leaves her mouth.

“He said my name! Did he really just say my name?"

“He sure did. And he’s going to say it again in a few minutes, so keep watching!”

The next couple of minutes involve Loras saying she’s breathtakingly beautiful, followed by Jon Snow’s incredibly detailed explanation of why he’s completely in awe with her. Sansa has to pinch herself a couple of times to make sure the heavy workload from the last few weeks hadn’t put her in a coma. Because the things he says about her are enough to nearly make her cry. She feels so validated for her hard work and she’s so happy and relieved she decided to finish today’s video. If this is how her followers see her she can’t stand to disappoint them. Ever.

Flustered by all the emotions she clears her throat and straightens herself in her chair. Margaery has stopped Jon’s ramblings and the camera cuts to Grenn.

“Sansa, if you’re watching this,” She hears him say. “Jon wants to show you his sword collection.”

Her eyes widen and around her the group erupts into squeals and laughter. Even her father and uncle Benjen are laughing along through facetime, as if they haven’t tried to intimidate every man who’s she’s ever brought home before.

The screen then goes to commercials and Bran quickly skips to the next bit of the show. Margaery has just turned the small screen, the one with her face on it, towards Jon as the band ready’s themselves to play a song from their new album.

Sansa braces herself as Tormund counts the band in, because she knows all her siblings will sing along. Loudly. But to her surprise they all stay quiet. Even Theon manages to shut up for once. They must really like this song.

And she gets why. The awkward and nervous Jon from the interview is nowhere to be found. Instead, he’s made place for this super confident (and super sexy) new version of Jon Snow. He parades around as if he owns the stage, every note he sings leaving little trails of goosebumps on her arms. She is completely entranced by him.

She watches as he sings chorus after chorus, verse after verse. Every now and then followed by Pyp doing the backup vocals. And then he reaches the bridge,

AND THE THRILL OF THE CHASE
MOVES IN MYSTERIOUS WAYS,

Jon sings from the top of his lungs.

SO IN CASE I’M MISTAKEN, I-
JUST WANNA HEAR YOU SAY IT,
SANSA, BABY ARE YOU MINE?

Sansa’s mind goes completely blank and her Tully side must have reached the surface, because she just sits there gaping like a fish. All the while around her everyone has erupted into cheers. Het father and uncle Benjen are giggling like a bunch of schoolgirls, Robb, Rickon and Gendry are jumping around the small room in a tight embrace and Theon shakes his head while repeating ‘I told you, I told you!’ over and over again.

The episode has ended and the chaos in the room has finally died down. Which apparently means it’s time to come up with a gameplan to capture Jon Snow’s heart. Within no time everyone is talking over each other, all of them thinking they have the best idea to get Sansa and Jon together while Sansa just sits in her chair, unable to speak. Her hands are beginning to shake and a feeling of anxiety and slight claustrophobia is forming in her belly.

“Hold up,” She says, jumping from her chair. Making the rest of the group stop their squabbling to look at her. “Could you please give me a moment to breathe?”

Without saying another word she walks out of her office, heading straight towards the bathroom. And to think she thought she would have a calm relaxing day today. Closing her eyes, she takes a few deep breaths. Just focusing on her breathing for a little bit. She washes her hands before splashing some water on her face. Finally she has a moment to calm down and collect her thoughts. And suddenly it hits her.

Jon Snow, the biggest rockstar the north has ever produced, has a crush on her. She laughs, fully in disbelief, for a solid three minutes and then she starts questioning herself. Is meeting him something she would want? And if he agrees on meeting her what can she expect? Or more importantly, what does he expect of her. Jon is insanely handsome and insanely famous. He must have millions of men and women falling over him left and right. How could she ever compete with that?

But on the other hand, he did mention something about a sword collection. And that’s something the history nerd inside her simply can’t ignore. Sansa makes up her mind before she makes her way back to the office, where her siblings are still waiting for her. They al sheepishly look at her when she steps into the doorway.

“Let’s go. If we want to keep Jon Snow’s attention we better get to work.”

______________________________________________________________________

Sansa is placed beside the large set of double doors that leads to the museum’s weaponry collection. Normally, the doors are wide open to welcome the visitors, but Robb and Theon have decided they should be closed for the picture. It is kind of embarrassing, posing for a picture while the few guest of the museum walk past every now and then. They must see her as one of the shameless tourists, she thinks as her cheeks are starting to match the color of her hair.

In front of her Bran is holding out her phone, taking pictures of her. He must have shot at least a hundred by now. All the while Theon and Gendry are standing behind Bran, arms crossed as they oversee the pictures that are being taken. Arya and Rickon have left for the cafeteria to get everyone some sandwiches. And Robb has taken charge of placing Sansa in all kinds of poses.

“Maybe try sticking your hip out a bit more. And point to the sign with one hand.” He directs. Sansa simply does as she’s told, but her brother does start to work on her nerves with all his corrections. “No, not like that. I said one hand, remember?”

“You do it then,” Sansa grunts in frustration. “Your hair is reddish too, so why don’t you try to seduce him.”

“You think I could?” He asks to her surprise. The rest of the group just blinks at Robb in silence, before he quickly adds, “Don’t tell Jeyne I said that.”

After that they keep going for a while to try and get the perfect picture.

“Maybe try one in black and white.” Gendry suggests to Bran, causing Theon to slap him on the back of the head. “Ow, what was that for?”

“If the picture is in black and white he won’t be able to see her red hair, you idiot.”

“Ahh, right right. Carry on.”

Three more times Bran taps the screen of Sansa’s phone before he straightens back up.

“I think we got it.” He says, much to Sansa’s relief. She shakes her limbs, stiff from all the posing and then quickly grabs one of the sandwiches that’s been calling her name for the last ten minutes. To her surprise, Rickon actually bought her a new iced coffee.

“I’ve never been more proud of you.” He says while handing her the drink.

“Really? I got my master’s degree two months ago, but me being a redhead is what makes you proud?”

After everyone’s done eating it’s time for the Starks to go. She sees them out to the parking lot and watches as all six of them cram themselves into Arya’s small Toyota, before walking back to her office to finish her work.

The rest of the day is pretty uneventful. At 4 her video goes online and she decides to call it a day. After arriving at her apartment in Wintertown, she greets Lady who welcomes her at the door. Her tail whipping graciously from side to side. With the weather being more forgiving she takes Lady out on a nice long walk, taking the time to digest everything that happened that day. An hour later she gets back home, has some dinner, showers and readies herself for bed. As Sansa lies down, one hand patting lady’s soft fur and the other scrolling through her phone, she tries to find the right picture to post on her Instagram. It actually takes her another day to decide on what picture to use. All the while trying to ignore her family’s prying questions.

She’s back in bed, quickly editing a few things before she writes down the caption, tags the band’s Instagram and uploads the new post for the world to see.
The next day she locks herself in her office, letting her colleagues know she is not to be disturbed until after lunch. She hasn’t checked her Instagram yet, her phone hidden away in the top drawer of her desk. Too afraid to see the reactions from others and scared she’s made a fool of herself.

At twelve o’clock she finally encourages herself enough to check her phone. Her thumb shakes as she tabs her screen to open Instagram. Sansa’s taken aback by the amount of likes and comments her post has managed to receive, but she decides to ignore them for now. Instead she opens her DM’s and is surprised to see a message from Jon Snow himself, sent through the band’s Instagram.

Hello Sansa,

The message reads.

First, I’d like to apologize for putting you on the spot like that. I hope I didn’t embarrass you. However, I did mean what I said about your channel. Also, if you’re serious about showing the weaponry collection, I’d be more than willing to visit the museum with you. Only if you want to of course.

Anyway, I have some free time in the second week of October. Please feel free to message me back. I’ll put my number at the bottom (I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t share my number with others. Not that I think you would do that, but just to be sure). I hope to hear from you soon.

Love, Jon.

PS. I really liked your latest video. Thanks for taking my request. It was everything I’d hoped it would be and I can’t wait for next week’s episode.

Chapter Text

“Dude, you’ve got to relax,” Tormund chuckles as he’s driving Jon to Winterfell, eyes focused on the road and hands firmly on the steering wheel. “You’re starting to make me nervous and I’m not even invited on your little date.”

“It’s not a date.” Jon answers, but the sassy side eye he receives in return is enough to know that Tormund doesn’t believe him. They’ve been driving for almost an hour now and it’s only another 20 minutes until they’ll arrive at the museum for his appointment with Sansa Stark, aka RedHeadHistory, aka the woman of his dreams.

It’s been six weeks since he made his love declaration on national television and in those six weeks they’ve exchanged plenty of DM’s, text messages, even an occasional phone call. With every correspondence he’s gotten to know more and more about Sansa. She’s told him about her academic achievements, about her work at the museum, her dog Lady and also about her crazy Stark family, who happen to be some of his biggest fans.

In return Jon has told her plenty about his life as well. Which is not something he’s very known to do, but for some reason she makes it very easy for him to open up about himself. For example, his love for history and music, his struggles with being famous, how he longs for home and his dog Ghost after months on the road and about his crazy Crows bandmembers. Sometimes he wonders if he doesn’t dump too much of his troubles on her, but if he does, Sansa never calls him out on it. In fact, she always seems just as eager to speak to him as he does to her. Especially after she found out that he’s the owner of the WhiteWolfCB account.

They’d talked on the phone for a solid five hours after that. Asking each other about their opinions on different events in Westerosi’s rich history and then some more about their own private lives, before mutually (and reluctantly) agreeing to call it a night at half past three in the morning. His bandmembers gave him hell for his tired eyes and the lovesick grin on his face the next day, but that was more than worth it.

Before Jon truly realizes it, the last 20 minutes of their journey pass and they make a turn for the museum’s almost empty parking lot. Sansa and Jon agreed to meet after the museum closes, so they wouldn’t disturb the other visitors. Luckily, the museum’s director and Sansa’s boss, Mr. Cassel, allowed them to spend an hour and a half to explore the museum together (while also making a little bit of social media content).

The museum itself is massive and it seems to get bigger and bigger the closer they get. The size and beauty of it taking Jon’s breath away. A large, gray castle that used to be inhabited by northern royalty a few centuries ago. Standing between two 92 feet towers is an archway that leads to the entrance of the building. And underneath the archway stands another breathtaking view, waiting for him.

Sansa’s hair stands out immediately against the gray brick of the castle, while the bright auburn strands match perfectly with the golden red leaves of the trees that surround the castle grounds. Jon didn’t expect to see the first piece of art outside of the museum, but there she is.

“Are you planning on getting out of the car or are you just going to stare at her for the next two hours like a creep?”

Tormund’s voice helps Jon out of his daydream and it’s then that he finally realizes that the car has stopped.

“Right, sorry.” Jon says as he wipes his sweaty palms on his black jeans. “Thanks for dropping me off.”

“No worries, mate. Do you have everything? Deodorant, wallet, phone… breath mints?” Tormund finishes with wiggling brows.

Rolling his eyes, Jon gets out of the car while he grumbles a quick affirmative.

“Alright then. Have fun and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thanks again. Love you.”

“I love you, too.” Tormund answers before he drives off the premises. Jon turns around and walks up the large steps towards the entrance where Sansa is waiting. She's smiling at him. A soft blush graces her cheeks that she’s not able to hide, and Jon feels a little relieved that she seems just as nervous as he is.

“Hi,” she greets him, going in for a hug which he happily reciprocates. A welcoming soft vanilla scent enters his nostrils and Jon silently prays he doesn’t smell like sweat and nerves. “so good to finally meet you in person.” She says. “Although it does kind of feel like we’ve known each other for a while now.”

“Yeah,” Jon agrees as he smiles back at her. “doesn’t make me less nervous though.”

She softly laughs at his comment and places her hand on his arm. “I promise you there is no need to be nervous.” Her hand leaves its place on his sleeve to tuck a strand of red hair behind her ear before brushing down the blazer of her light blue suit. “Ready to come inside?”

“Sure, after you.”

Jon follows Sansa through the archway of the massive castle, but as soon as he walks through the door there is no trace left of the medieval architecture. Apart from the courtyard in the center of the museum, everything is modernized and fancy looking. Which kind of disappoints him.

The sound of their footsteps echo softly through the hallway as Sansa leads him to the reception area. Behind the desk sits a young woman shyly looking towards them. Then quickly looking away before she meets his eye. Behind her stands an older gentleman in a gray suit, hands proudly placed on the young woman’s shoulders, grinning from ear to ear. Or in his case it’s more sideburn to sideburn, and Jon suspects that he must be Sansa’s boss.

After some quick introductions, a firm handshake from Mr. Cassel and some idly small talk with Beth, Sansa leads him up the stairs into another hallway. One side of the hallway is completely covered with windows from floor to ceiling, directly looking down on the courtyard. Although it doesn’t have that medieval charm as the outside of the museum has, it still is a very pretty sight to see.

“Where exactly are we going?” Jon asks when they’ve reached the end of the hallway. They stop in front of a wooden door and Sansa takes out a key to open it.

“You’ll see.”

Sansa signals for him to get inside and before she has the time to explain anything Jon lets out a (very manly) squeal from excitement.

“Is this where you … is this your … fucking hell, this is where you,” Unfortunately, it’s impossible for Jon to make any type of coherent sentence as he walks into the room that has to be the place where Sansa records her videos. He looks around, taking in the surroundings that he usually sees through the screen of his phone or his laptop. There’s a light brown wooden desk against a white wall that’s covered in framed paintings and pictures of what he assumes are friends and family. The desk itself has her laptop on it, a variety of cables and chargers and another framed picture of her and a fluffy grey dog on her lap. Against the other walls there are multiple shelves and bookcases filled with books, vases with white and pink flowers, more pictures and multiple decorations he recognizes from her videos. He walks over to the shelf that has a little white direwolf on it and carefully picks it up.

“Oh sorry, is it okay if I touch this?”

“Yeah, of course,” Sansa assures him. “I’ve made that one out of clay for the bey-”

“Beyond the wall video. Yeah, I remember. I probably rewatched that one a dozen times.” He laughs while playing with the little white wolf in his hand. It’s when he looks up he notices how Sansa is blushing again. “You okay?”

“I’m okay,” She clears her throat before continuing, “I just, uhm, I hope this doesn’t sound creepy or anything, but I actually was inspired by your username when making that.”

“Really? Wow, I’m honored.”

Sansa tucks away a strand of hair behind her ear before reaching for the little wolf he’s still holding. Their fingertips slightly brush as he gives it to her and their eyes lock, which makes them both giggle a bit. She places the figurine back in its original place and then turns back to Jon who hasn’t stopped looking at her.

“Unfortunately I can’t give you Wolfie, because I am pretty attached to him, but…” Sansa walks to a door that leads to a small walk-in closet. “I made this for you.”

As she walks back out Jon’s jaw nearly drops when he notices what she’s holding in her arms. A dark brown faux fur cloak with dark grey straps. The straps display the head of a direwolf, which Jon thinks is such a cool detail to put on there.

“Thank you, Sansa.” Jon says in complete awe as he takes the cloak from her. He quickly takes off his leather jacket, placing it on Sansa’s desk chair and immediately puts on his new favorite clothing item. “Do you have a mirror?”

“Yes, right here,”

Jon walks over to the door of the closet, swishing his cloak from left to right as he watches himself in the mirror. Behind him he can see Sansa smiling at him, looking just as giddy as he does.

“I promise you don’t have to wear it during the tour.” She giggles.

“Are you kidding? I’m never taking this off. I feel like a king.”

“Well, you would make a very handsome King in the North.”

This time it’s Jon who blushes. Looking off to the side he notices a clothing rack with a lot of very interesting looking items. He points inside the closet and asks, “Can I have a look?”

“Sure,” Sansa nods before following him inside.

“Did you make all these yourself?” Jon asks as he browses through the variety of medieval looking clothing hanging on the rack.

“Some of them, yes. There’s also some where I just made some slight alterations. And then there’s this one that I bought online.” Jon looks with interest as Sansa picks out a beautiful dark, with faux fur trimmed cloak. It kind of matches his own. “It cost me a fortune, but I just had to have it.”

“Can you put it on?” The question makes Sansa look up shyly. “Please?”

Sansa bites her lower lip and nods before she takes of her blazer. She takes the cloak and puts it on over her simple white t-shirt.

“How do I look?” She asks after arranging the cloak and fixing her hair.

Jon has to blink a couple of times before he gets out a sincere, “beautiful” making Sansa giggle again.

“How about a crown for the King in the North?” She asks, gesturing to the shelves behind her where half a dozen crowns are lined up on soft looking pillows. She takes the one Jon recognizes from the Northern fashion video, promptly placing it on his head.

The sudden proximity makes Jon gulp and he tries to stand very still as Sansa fixes his hair just so. From this close he can see the freckles that lightly cover her nose and the top of her cheeks, realizing he hadn’t noticed them before. Not even on screen. Before he can try to count them she shyly steps away, curtsying while softly calling him, “your Grace.”

“My lady,” He responds with a bow of his own which makes the crown on his head shift to the side. Jon swiftly catches it before it falls on the ground and they both laugh when they straighten back up.

“Where did you even get these? They’re so cool!” Turning the crown in his hands, he takes in all the small details that must have cost hours and hours to get just right.

“My sister’s boyfriend makes them for me. He normally makes furniture, but he can make literally anything out of some iron and metal.”

“That is so fucking cool!” Jon exclaims excitedly and then quickly apologizes for his cussing. Which just makes Sansa laugh.

“I’m pretty used to it.” She explains with a simple shrug.

“Oh, right,” Jon agrees. “I guess when you have three brothers you would be kind of used to it.”

“You say that as if my sister isn’t the worst one of them all.”

“She is?” He laughs surprised, handing Sansa back the crown. She nods as she carefully takes it from him and places it back on its pillow, so it’s again perfectly aligned with the other crowns on the shelf and then turns back to him.

“Yep, we’re very different from each other. Arya is more like your usual fanbase, I guess.”

“You’re not part of my usual fanbase, then?” He playfully asks and smiles when he notices her panicked look and the pink blush on her cheeks. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s not your fault you have a bad taste in music.” Jon teases while he gently pats her arm to soften the blow. And luckily she chuckles along with him.

“Well, I used to be a huge Jonas Brothers fan, so I can’t really argue with you there. And who knows. Maybe if you sing for me a couple of times you might persuade me to become one of your biggest fans.”

“That does sound appealing.” Jon replies. “How many songs do I have to sing to get one of those crowns?”

"Gendry is already a major fan of yours,” Sansa assures him as she takes his hand off her arm to hold it in one of her own. “I’m sure he’ll make you one for free if you play your cards right.”

“Oof, playing my cards right isn’t really my forte.” He admits, scratching the back of his head with his free hand. Sansa shrugs in responds as she plays with his fingers.

“You’re doing just fine with me.”

The last hour has flown by in seconds, so Sansa is adamant to enjoy every moment of the next 30 minutes as they make their way to the Northern weaponry collection. Their matching cloaks, that Jon insisted on wearing for the remainder of the tour, seem to float behind their backs as they descend the stairs and enter through the well known double doors.

It feels kind of weird to walk around in a nearly empty museum. The only sound being their voices and their laughter echoing through the empty hallways. Ever since Jon’s arrival a little over an hour ago they’ve been talking and laughing non-stop. He really is a funny guy once his nerves have settled down a bit.

They’ve just left the great hall where century old jewels were displayed. As well as a variety of northern cloaks, dresses and other pieces of clothing people used to wear in medieval times. Most of the garments were imitations and not originals, since it’s very hard to maintain clothing items for centuries, but there’s one cloak in the collection that was actually known to be worn by Lynara of Winterfell herself.

She had told Jon it was her very favorite piece in the museum, explaining how it was very risqué for Lynara’s time. How the details and the different colors subtly showed where her loyalties lied and that this was her rebelling in her own feminine way.

Afterwards, she apologized for going on and on about a silly cloak, but Jon quickly assured her there was nothing to forgive. He’d actually really enjoyed her small lecture and if they’d had more time he would have asked her questions about every single piece in the room.

They’d then decided it was time for some pictures for the museum’s social media page. They made some quick selfies of the two of them, before Sansa took a picture of Jon with him standing proudly next to Lynara’s cloak, perfectly matching with his own cloak, of course, before making their way to the weaponry collection.

The collection consists of a large variety of swords, lances, shields and full armors. There's even a canon on display. All of the pieces persevered for hundreds of years. Sansa can see Jon’s jaw drop as soon as they walk in and she can’t help but smile at his dumbstruck expression.

“This is incredible.” He whispers as he grabs her hand in his.

They walk around the room together, admiring the different pieces on display and this time it’s Jon who goes on and on about all the swords and shields they come across. All the while Sansa listens to his ramblings, with Jon having her undivided attention. His voice is very pleasant to listen to, even when he’s not singing. Sometimes she asks him questions, which Jon seems more than happy to answer. And she’s truly astonished by his knowledge.

“You want to take some more pictures?” Jon asks as they finish their round.

“Definitely! Wait here, I have an idea.”

After a minute or two she walks back to where she’d left Jon as she carries two toy swords and has Jory walking behind her.

“Jon, this is Jory. He’s the head of security and he volunteered to take some pictures of us.”

A bit starstruck, Jory puts out his hand for Jon to shake as he gives him a friendly but awkward smile.

“She forced me, actually.” Jory replies while shaking Jon’s hand (which is a total lie). "Nice cloak, by the way.”

“Thanks, Sansa made it for me.” Jon says proudly, swishing the cloak from left to right. It really does look good on him.

After their friendly introduction, and Jory expressing his appreciation for The Crows, Jon and Sansa each take a toy sword for their fake battle. The swords make a click clack sound every time they collide, while Jory takes one picture after another. At first it’s all fun and games, but at one point Sansa is clearly done with their friendly combat, surprising Jon with a blow on his arm.

Brow raised, he looks at her in surprise as she gets out a half-ass apology between her giggles. He then seems to match her energy and tries to get a few strikes in himself.

“I expected more from a guy with his own sword collection.” She teases as she swiftly dodges his sword and hits him on his butt with her own, the thick material of his cloak softening the blow.

It’s then that he surprises her, tricking her with a diversion that puts her on the wrong foot. Before she knows it Jon has grabbed her arm and pulls her towards him so she’s trapped in his arms. His warm and earthy scent envelops her as she stands against him with his front to her back.

“You were saying?” Jon counters, tickling the sides of her waist and making them both laugh until they’re interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat.

“Is that enough pictures for you?” Jory asks, looking a bit traumatized by the little display of affection. But to be honest Sansa kind of forgot that he was standing there. Slightly embarrassed she disentangles herself from Jon’s arms to grab her phone back. It’s then that Mr. Cassel and Beth walk in to announce that their time is up and they have to close the museum for the night. After Jon agreed to some pictures with the Cassels, they arrange to meet the others outside by the entrance after they pick up their stuff from Sansa’s little office.

“That went by quicker than expected.” Jon exclaims as they make their way back to the main entrance. He’s wearing his own leather jacket again, with his cloak neatly folded in a bag from the museum’s giftshop.

“Yes, we didn’t even have time to explore the gardens. And they’re so lovely this time a year.”

“Maybe we could do that next time. If you want to, of course.” Jon suggests, shyly looking her in the eye. She responds by taking his hand.

“I would love that."

Jon and Sansa get back to the main entrance where the Cassels are already waiting for them. Luckily, they leave as soon as Jory has set the alarm, giving Sansa and Jon some privacy to say goodbye to one another.

“Can I walk you to your car?” Jon offers and together they walk to her small, white Suzuki Alto. The only car left on the entire parking lot.

“I had a really great time with you today, Jon.” Sansa admits when they stop in front of her car door. The fall wind has really made it’s presence known along with the evening sky and Sansa struggles to keep her hair somewhat under control.

“I had a great time as well,” Jon responds. “Thank you for showing me around and for the cloak, of course. It’s the coolest gift anyone has ever gotten for me.”

They fall silent for a moment, just looking shyly at each other as they listen how the wind continues to rustle through the trees. Slowly, Jon steps forward. Reducing the space between them until they’re almost chest to chest, making Sansa hold her breath in suspense. He raises his hand and gently brushes a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Would it be okay if I kiss you?” He asks her softly. The rumbling of his low voice leaves goosebumps on her arm. She nods in response and watches as Jon leans down. His hand moving from her hair to rest on her cheek, while the other one makes its way to her waist. And then he kisses her. As soon as their lips touch a heat builds in her belly that pleasantly grows the longer they kiss.

Jon’s lips are soft and warm against her own and they feel just as full as they looked when she first saw him on the screen of her laptop six weeks ago. The kisses keep coming chaste and warm, and after a while Jon gently opens his mouth to slide his tongue into hers. Sansa is more than happy to reciprocate and meets his tongue with her own. A small moan escapes as the heat in her belly steadily spreads throughout her body until her knees almost seem to buckle. Luckily, she’s safely held in Jon’s arms and it doesn’t look like he’s planning on letting her go any time soon.

They kiss and kiss and kiss some more, while seconds, minutes, maybe hours pass without either of them noticing. Only after Sansa runs out of breath she hesitantly breaks away. She looks into his eyes and sees the same warmth she’s felt during their little session staring right back at her. Now she’s really bumped their date has come to an end. Desperately, she tries to think of a way to prolong their time together, until Jon suddenly interrupts her train of thoughts.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” He asks to her surprise. “I mean, it’s only a little after seven and I haven’t called an uber yet and honestly I’m really not ready for this date to end. So would you like to have dinner? With me?”

A sigh of relief escapes and she makes a quick mental note to text her parents that she’ll pick up Lady a bit later than planned.

“I would love to,” She says before pressing one last kiss on his lips. “I know a place where they have the best lemon cheesecake in the world.”

“Whatever you want, Sansa.” Jon replies before making his way to the passenger seat.

“I do hope you don’t mind to be covered in Lady’s grey dog hairs by the end of the ride.”

“Nah, it’ll be a good change from the white hairs Ghost usually leaves on me.”

They laugh as they both put on their seatbelts and Sansa turns the key in the ignition to start the car. As soon as the car comes to life one of Jon’s songs starts playing on her Spotify. The sound of his voice filling the small space of the vehicle.
“I thought you weren’t a fan of my music.” He teases with a smug smile on his face.

“Well, what can I say. I guess you're just really starting to grow on me.”