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Sansa had spent weeks devising her plan. She had gotten the actual plan down in the first week. The rest of the time was deciding who was going to do it with her; who was the smartest, the wittiest, the most attractive, the one who wasn’t going to make her tear her own hair out when things got tough. Finally, though, after almost a month and a half, she had decided, and she hoped and prayed that he agreed.
Sansa drove to the building that his loft was in, and walked right past the front desk girl, who was stuck deciding to be star struck or if she was going to call Sansa back and demand that she sign in. Sansa didn’t go back. She got in the elevator and pressed the button for his level, and waiting for the elevator doors to ding back open before Sansa strutted to his door, before ringing his doorbell and planting three solid knocks on the bulletproof black door.
Sansa heard his almost silent footsteps approach the door, before he stopped to look through the peephole. A few seconds passed before she heard several locks turning, and the door swings open. Jon looks like he’d just been woken up, and she feels slightly guilty when she knows it was most likely her doing. His hair is pulled back in a bun and his tired eyes squint at her.
“Hey, San.” Jon greets, stepping aside to let her in. Sansa obliges and walks past him to his comfortable lazy boy chair. “I was using that.” He scoffs and Sansa grins.
“Thanks for warming it up for me.” She replies teasingly. “You can have it back,” Sansa starts to stand up and he holds his hand up.
“It’s fine. What do you need?” Jon questions her, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes with the balls of his palms.
“You understand how Joffrey and Ramsay absolutely, and completely annihilated my reputation?” She starts and Jon stiffens, realizing how important this is going to be.
“Yeah.” He sighs, saddened by the memories of the past few years, where her image had been dragged through the mud by the two assholes.
“Yes, well, I just landed a job. A big one. I can’t have them ruin this for me too.” She states and Jon leans towards her, his elbows landing on his knees.
“Okay… where do I come into this?” Jon mutters and Sansa becomes nervous. She had thought this all through, didn’t she? This would be the only way to take out her reputation from the coffin it was in, wasn’t it? She had to, she had to ask him, and he had to say yes if this was going to work.
“Jon, I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend.” Sansa speaks and his eyes bulge out of his head.
“What?” Jon gasps, almost choking on his own saliva.
“I’ve thought about this, there’s no way that I can be viewed anything other as garbage in the media unless someone like you endorses it. Please. Please.” Sansa begs and Jon looks at the hurt in her eyes.
“Why me?” He mumbles, confused on why she chose him.
“Because I’ve known you for forever. I’m not nervous around you, you’re smart, you’re an actor, you’re attractive,” She lists, and Jon almost blushes when she calls him attractive. “I can’t do this without you, Jon. Please.” Sansa adds and he clasps his hands together, placing them on his lips, thinking.
Time passes as he thinks of all the possible problems. He’s not dating anyone at the moment, he can’t even think of a girl he has a silly crush on, and obviously Sansa isn’t either if she’s asking him this. Jon doesn’t realize how long he’s been silent for until Sansa is next to him—right next to him—and he almost jumps when he sees her.
“Please Jon.” She repeats, tears now in her eyes. “They ruined me. I can’t let them ruin me.”
Jon takes a deep breath before throwing all sensible thoughts to the wind. He can’t let her do this by herself, she’s right; they ruined her. In the public’s eyes, she’s nothing but the used up girlfriend of Joffrey Baratheon and Ramsay Bolton, big shot actors. Jon wasn’t in as many movies or TV shows as either of them, but he was ten times the man of both of them put together. Besides, Sansa was one of Jon’s best friends, and he couldn’t say no to her.
“Okay.” Jon agrees simply, and Sansa looks up at him like he’s hanging the moon.
“Really?” She hiccups and he nods.
“Yeah. How hard could it be? I mean, we’re both fantastic actors.” He jokes, pulling her into a hug.
It had been two months, and Sansa had spent more time with Jon than she had in the past three years. Breakfast, Brunch, Lunch, Dinner, he visited her on set and she visited him on his TV show whenever she wasn’t needed for her movie.
The media had been in a frenzy about their ‘new, hot relationship’, and Sansa couldn’t be happier. Her family weren’t as surprised as she thought they’d be, but other than that, everyone was shocked at the new celebrity pairing. Every time the two would walk out of their homes, cameras would come for them from every direction.
Now, Jon’s head was in her lap as they devised a plan for the awards show that was coming. Jon was nominated for best male lead in a drama series, and Sansa was his obvious plus one. Sansa knew that they would be there, that she would have to face them, but she also knew that now she would have Jon by her side, fake relationship or not, he wouldn’t let Ramsay or Joffrey hurt her.
“They’re going to be there, you know.” Jon voices her thoughts, but she wasn’t as nervous as she once was.
“I know. But now I have my hot boyfriend Jon Snow.” Sansa laughs and Jon sat up from his place and looked to her.
“And I have my hot girlfriend Sansa Stark.” He chuckles as he stands up to go get something from his kitchen. “Are you gonna spend the night?” Jon asks the fiery red head, and she remembers tomorrows annoying itinerary.
“I always forget that it takes an entire day to get ready for an awards show.” Sansa groans, standing up as well to help him with whatever he needs.
“You don’t have to go.” Jon shrugs and Sansa stops to look at him.
“I’m not just going because I’m your fake girlfriend. I’m going because I’m proud of you and what you’ve become, of what you’ve done for yourself. I want to be there when you walk up on stage and say ‘I’d like to thank my beautiful girlfriend, the love of my life, the mother of my future children, the,” Sansa starts dramatically, putting her arms up in the air, and Jon stops her. He’s laughing so hard that tears are coming out of his eyes and she joins in with a giggle. “I’m going because I want to, not because I have to. I’ll spend the night. It’s way too late to go home and get some good sleep.” Sansa states, looking at the digital clock on Jon’s microwave that reads 2:30 in the morning.
“We should probably put this back and get some sleep.” Jon admits, picking up their leftover cheesecake from dinner and putting it back in the fridge.
“Thanks for doing this Jon.” Sansa mutters as she helps him clean up.
“What? You’re going to my awards show.” He laughs and she shrugs.
“Yeah but you wouldn’t have invited me if we weren’t fake dating. It’s my fault we’re doing this, and I just wanted to thank you. It means a lot to me.” She gives him a small smile and he pulls her close to kiss her nose.
“If I was annoyed by it, I wouldn’t have said yes.” Jon tells her before they both go to bed.
Sansa and Jon were up by nine in the morning so Sansa could be made up like a doll for tonight. It wasn’t just physical either, Jon came along with her to everything to help her mentally prepare. She hadn’t been to one since Ramsay, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready.
When she landed her first job, she was confidant in answering the questions the interviewer would ask her, but once she started dating Joffrey, she was written off as arm candy, as another silly actress who wasn’t intelligent to speak on her own. Ramsay hadn’t helped her image at all.
An hour before their red carpet walk, Sansa was shaking in her designer dress and heels. Her face was painted perfectly, so it was definitely easier to pretend like she wasn’t about to scream and run away. Jon had been their every step of the way, except for the half an hour where he got into his tux, tamed his hair, and had a makeup artist fix a few small blemishes.
They ate Kraft mac and cheese before walking out of Jon’s door and quickly making their way to the limo waiting outside his building, hoping to avoid the swarm of reporters and being horribly unsuccessful. Jon guided her with his arm around her waist to the limo, feeling like they were drowning in other humans. Finally, they made it into the vehicle and left the curb quickly.
They pulled up to the show, and Jon grabbed up her hand, as if asking if she was okay. Sansa nodded before he opened up the car door, stepping out first so he could help her not have a wardrobe malfunction, as photographers loved when those happened. It looked as if they really were together, he put out a hand for her, and she gracefully took it as she got out of the limo; it looked as if she had been reborn.
“Sansa! Sansa! How long have you and Jon been together?” Thousands of questions worded almost the exact same were thrown at her, but she just politely smiles as Jon and Sansa walked down the red carpet hand in hand.
They would stop every few steps for the flashes to get a good picture, and then keep walking. Every few seconds, a website or magazine or famous blogger would beg them to come over to them for an interview, and every once in a while, they obliged. This was one of those times, and Sansa regretted it more than anything tonight.
“So, we interviewed Joffrey and Ramsay a couple of minutes ago, and they had a lot to say about your new relationship.” The woman with bright pink hair smirked, and Sansa felt like her heart had stopped. She hoped it didn’t show on her face, but she knew that it probably did.
“Oh really? And what did they say?” Sansa quips back, hoping that she didn’t look too frightened.
“They said that it was probably just a cover-up, as no self-respecting man would ever touch her.” The interviewer smiles, her face sweet, but her tone and words are out for blood.
Behind her, Sansa felt Jon move to bitch out both the woman and those who would watch the surely soon to be viral video. Sansa quickly put her hand up to him, a signal to show that she could handle this herself, and Sansa could only hope that she was right.
“If any self-respecting man would never touch me, then why did they?” Sansa shrugs, but inside she’s shaking so badly that it feels like she’s watching herself say this, like she’s not doing it herself. “I just don’t quite understand why they feel the need to comment on my love life, when they are so clearly not in it anymore, which I’m thankful for.”
“Really? You seemed pretty destroyed after your last beau Ramsay cut it off, then started dating your best friend, Jeyne was her name wasn’t it?” the cotton candy haired bimbo grins, making Sansa shut down even more.
“I hope that he and Jeyne are as in love as they seem to be, I wish them both the best.” Sansa states, but it comes out as a shiver, and she can feel her eyes pricking with tears. At this point, Sansa could not restrain Jon anymore, and he opened his mouth.
“Alyssa, it is?” He wonders, looking at the woman’s nametag.
“Indeed it is.” Alyssa smirks flirtatiously, and Jon dramatically rolls his eyes.
“Well, Alyssa,” Jon hisses out, and Sansa squeezes his hand once to calm him down, which seems to work a bit, as his muscles relax slightly before continuing. “Sansa is the strongest woman I’ve ever met in my life, and pansies like Joffrey and Ramsay could never break her. You say these things hoping that she’ll do so, but she’s just not going to.” He states with a passionate expression on his face.
“And how do you feel about Mr. Baratheon and Mr. Bolton’s statements?” Alyssa shrugs, visibly upset that he called her out.
“I think they’re utter garbage, and I’m not just talking about their statements. Although, I guess I can’t be too mad at them, because whatever they did to Sansa, it somehow brought us back together, and I couldn’t be happier with my life right now.” Jon shrugs and then turns to the camera to address it directly. “I love Sansa Stark, so whatever you guys put her through to bring her to me, thank you. I’ll be sure to invite you to the wedding.” He states and everyone in the vicinity is shocked at his words, even Sansa.
“Wow… uh, that’s quite the message, Mr. Snow.” Alyssa mumbles and Jon raises his eyebrows, surprised that she’s still talking.
“Do you have any more questions for us or can we leave?” Jon asks, slightly less rude than before.
“Um, you’re free to go.” She mutters, her ego has clearly kicked the bucket.
“Thank you. It’s been awful talking to you.” He snaps before wrapping his arm around Sansa and leading her towards the award ceremony.
“Jon… Are you okay?” She whispers, just loud enough so he can hear her over the screams of the crowd.
“Yeah, why?” He murmurs back.
“It’s just… I’ve never seen you get that angry before. I’ve never even heard you raise your voice to that octave.” Sansa continues and Jon chuckles a bit.
“What can I say? When it comes to you I get riled up.”
Jon wins the award, and Sansa doesn’t think she’s cheered so loudly or clapped so hard in her life. When he’s walking up to the microphone, her hands sting, and her vocal chords are raw, and the people around her are giving Sansa glares or admiring looks. When Jon reaches it, she stops and sits back down, smoothing out her gown.
“Uh, this is really awkward for me.” Jon chuckles and the audience follows suit, as he’s known to not be super talkative, in anything. “But this honestly means so much that anyone would think that I deserve this award. Just to think that I was a kid hoping to be an actor, and now I’m here; it’s surreal.” Jon continues, staring down at the shiny statue in his hand.
An obscure plus one leans over to Sansa and whispers:
“You’ve really caught a good one, Stark. Hold on tight!”
“Thank you to everyone who watches whatever it is I do, and I’ve obviously been talking too long, so I’m going to go sit back down, and Sansa is going to tell me that I did great and then give me hot chocolate when we get home.” He smiles nervously, and once again the audience laughs loudly at his awkwardly adorable words. “Thank you!” He smiles one last time before quickly shuffling off of the stage, and rushing back towards his seat, to Sansa.
“Just like you said I would do, you did great, and I will make you hot chocolate when we get home.” Sansa giggles and Jon gives her a smile that makes her insides flip upside down.
When they arrive back to Sansa’s large apartment, the first thing they do is shed their formal attire and redress in comfortable sweatpants and old tee shirts from their high school. Sansa shuffles into her kitchen to follow through on her promise to make Jon hot chocolate as she picks something to watch from Netflix in her bedroom. When their drinks are finished, Sansa carefully walks into her room with one and each hand, and sees Jon’s face staring at his cellphone, jaw dropped to the mattress.
“What?” Sansa asks him, worried. She quickly puts down their mugs on her side table and climbs onto her bed next to him, to see whatever YouTube channel speaking about Jon’s outburst.
“It’s going viral. There’s already two million views.” He mutters to her, just as the part when he calls her exes garbage comes out of his phone’s speakers.
“I can’t believe this.” Sansa murmurs, more to herself than him.
“What?” He wonders.
“I’m ruining your reputation. You’re known as this down to earth, quiet bachelor, and now you’re screaming at reporters.” Sansa groans, covering her face with her hands.
Jon turns to her, putting his phone down and sits up to look at her. She doesn’t pry her hands off of her face until she feels Jon’s stare within her bone marrow. When Sansa glances up, Jon is grinning at her stupidly, but there’s a gleam in his eyes that she places as admiration. Jon chuckles as Sansa stares back at him, and Sansa feels her cheeks redden.
“What?” She scoffs, picking up one of her pillows and smacking him with it, only for a chorus of his laughter to reach her ears. “Stop laughing at me!” Sansa insists, and Jon grabs onto the pillow, stopping her.
“You didn’t need me you know.” He states and Sansa tilts her head.
“What?” She murmurs and Jon rolls his eyes.
“To bring up your reputation. You didn’t need me.” He repeats and Sansa chuckles sadly, as she knows he’s just saying this to make her feel better.
“Yes I did. You’re a great guy, Jon; an amazing guy. Nobody would have thought better of me without you.” Sansa sighs, thinking that what she says is the truth, and Jon can only feel sadness from her statement.
“No you didn’t. You’re gorgeous, you’re brilliant, you’re witty and quick, you’re hilarious, you’re strong; you’re Sansa Stark, and you didn’t need me to show everyone that.” Jon speaks and Sansa takes in a sharp breath.
Jon has been Robb’s best friend since before Sansa was even born. She and Jon had acted as siblings for most of their lives, especially when she and Jon got their first acting jobs together on the same movie. So why was she now getting butterflies in her stomach whenever he smiled at her? Why was she desperately trying to ignore the pounding of her heart when he not only called her gorgeous, but strong as well? Joffrey and Ramsay had always called her beautiful, but Sansa had never before felt so weak than when she was by their sides.
“You think I’m strong?” Sansa murmurs, her eyes burning from possible tears. Jon moves closer to her, and practically pulls her onto his lap.
“You don’t?” Jon questions, genuinely surprised that she doesn’t think so highly of herself.
Sansa is embarrassed to answer. No: she doesn’t think she’s strong. Not after hearing for so long that she was weak and worthless and nothing but arm candy for the people who really meant something. Being strong hadn’t even really occurred to Sansa until Jon had agreed to their arrangement. Now that she was faced with the question of her own strength, Sansa felt pathetic as she tries to hide her face back into her hands.
“Sansa.” Jon practically whispers, and Sansa barely hears him, as she’s stuck in her own head, swimming with thoughts of Ramsay and Joffrey blaming her for everything and anything that went wrong. “Sansa!” Jon snaps, getting her attention back onto him.
“Sorry, what did you say?” Sansa murmurs so quietly that Jon has to strain to hear her.
“You don’t think you’re strong.” Jon states, truly shocked at this realization. “Well, I don’t fake date just anybody. If you can fake a relationship, then I know you can fake some confidence. Your dad always said ‘fake it until you make it’.” Jon chuckles, trying to lift her spirits, but Sansa can only wonder if Jon’s talking about her confidence levels, or their relationship.
“I mean, I am an actress.” Sansa decides to say, and Jon laughs heartily: music to her ears.
They go to bed, and Sansa immediately snuggles into Jon’s chest, a habit that they’ve had ever since they were children. Sansa dreams of nothing, while Jon dreams of Sansa. When they wake, Sansa’s face is buried in Jon’s chest, and his fingers are raked into her fiery hair. It’s not abnormal for them to wake up like this, in fact, it would be strange if they didn’t.
“Good morning.” He smiles and she returned the gesture. “Do you want to go get breakfast?” Jon wonders and Sansa nods, getting out of bed to vanquish her morning breath and get dressed for their outing.
By the time Sansa is prepared to leave, Jon has been waiting for ten minutes. He gives her a look that says ‘finally’ and Sansa replies with a playful slap to his chest.
“You don’t get as much judgement as I do for how I look.” She grumbles as they walk to the elevator.
“No?” Jon chuckles and Sansa rolls her eyes.
“No! You look like a hobo and the media has an orgasm over your facial hair and man bun! Now, if I look even a little ragged they say ‘oh, Sansa is doing badly, must still be getting over Ramsay, but honestly, give some effort.’” Sansa cries, changing voices for dramatic effect, causing Jon to crack up.
“Okay, okay, you’re right.” He confirms her joke and Sansa huffs.
“Yeah, I know I’m right. You know nothing, Jon Snow.” She laughs and as they’re about to walk out of her building, Jon takes her hand in his.
They step across the threshold, and almost immediately there’s a group of cameras crowding them. They both smile politely as they catch a cab, before sliding in quickly and telling him to go to the place they always go to breakfast on Sunday mornings. Jon and Sansa arrive, stopping dead in their tracks, staring into the eyes of Ramsay Bolton and Joffrey Baratheon.
“Good morning, lovebirds.” Ramsay greets, a sickly sweet smile hiding all of the torturous scheming he keeps in his brain.
“Good morning.” Jon replies calmly, trying to walk past them into the restaurant, but Joffrey grips Sansa’s arm tightly as they attempt to.
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll let her go.” Jon snarls, bringing a smirk onto Joffrey’s face.
“Or what? You’ll punch me in the name of love?” He sneers, and Sansa decides to embrace the words of Eddard Stark: fake it until you make it.
“Joffrey… Let. Me. Go.” Sansa growls, and for the first time, Joffrey looks scared of her.
At this moment, Sansa reminds Jon of a wolf. Teeth bared at her ex, and her face so cold that he wonders how she can look at one man like this, but look at him with such warmth in her smile. Joffrey looks both shocked and terrified, but he doesn’t dare look weak in front of the woman he’s torn down to have the same image.
“Joffrey. I said let go.” She repeats, but still, he doesn’t. Instead, he tightens his grip, a sadistic smile reaching his lips.
Before Jon can do anything, Sansa breaks her other hand from Jon’s, grabs Joffrey’s wrist, and twists him so hard that Jon hears a loud pop, followed by a high pitched screech from Joffrey himself. Jon looks closely and sees Sansa breathing into Joffrey’s ear.
“Touch me again and you’ll lose your hand. You are nothing Joffrey Baratheon. You’ll be good to remember that.” She hisses, letting go to look over to Ramsay, leaving Joffrey with a limp hand. “And you, look at me with those rapist eyes of yours again and we’re gonna have a problem. I know a lot more than how to break a wrist.” Sansa snaps before grasping Jon’s hand and walking away from the restaurant.
“Where are we going?” Jon questions quietly.
“Anywhere but here. I hate vermin.” Sansa snarls before strutting away, Jon by her side.
They walk all the way to Jon’s building, which wasn’t far. By the time they reach his loft, Sansa is shaking so bad that Jon is practically carrying her. He sets her down on his bed and sits down next to her, silently waiting for her to make the first move.
“God, I am so stupid.” She whispers. “I broke Joffrey Baratheon’s wrist. He’s going to sue me for everything I have.”
“He can’t. It was self-defense. I was there, and I will say that in front of a judge if I have to.” He promises her and she looks at him.
“I can’t risk your career because I made a mistake.” Sansa mumbles and Jon takes her hands in his.
“I wouldn’t mind.” He replies honestly and she looks at the sheets on his bed. “Sansa?”
“Yeah?” She speaks, not looking up to him.
“I knew you were strong, I just needed you to believe it too.” Jon tells her and she shakes her head.
“I was faking it.” She murmurs and Jon lifts her head up to look at him by her chin.
“No you weren’t.” He states before sighing. “And I have a confession to make.” Jon catches her attention. “I’m not faking either. I’m not faking us. It’s okay if you are, but I just needed to tell you. IF we need to stage a breakup if it’s too awkward, then it’s okay.” Jon rambles nervously and Sansa realizes that she really does have strength when she reaches up and touches her lips to Jon’s.
They stay that way for at least ten seconds before Jon pulls away, leaving Sansa confused. He looks at her with a mix of sadness and confusion. Sansa moves back to where she once sat, and returns his glance.
“Why did you stop?” She wonders quietly, afraid of his answer.
“Why did you kiss me if you don’t mean it?” Jon fires back.
“Jon, I’m not faking either.” Sansa tells him and his eyes widen.
“Oh.” He speaks, stunned.
Sansa smiles before repeating her earlier action, and kissing him. His soft lips move against hers and she can feel his speeding heartrate when she brings her hands to his chest. Jon reaches up and grabs her face, brushing his thumbs across her cheeks, and they pull away from each other for oxygen.
“So, what does this make us?” Jon asks Sansa, and she smiles, her stomach fluttering from overwhelming happiness.
“I guess this means that we’re in a real relationship.” She replies and Jon’s cheeks flush more than they already were.
“Okay, real girlfriend, what do you want to do today?” Jon questions with a quick peck to Sansa’s lips. Sansa grins and answers with one word:
“This.” She smiles, before pulling Jon to her.