Me, getting back to my main fanfic: Time to open the ™️Tomes.

singing how long is love going to be

Chapter 5 of 5

v. physical touch

Her eyes drift down, and for a moment, she’s almost certain she’s hallucinating. That her lonely subconscious has merely tricked her into believing the handsome young man in a fitted gray suit standing near the podium looks like Jon Snow. But then he smiles, and all the air rushes out of her lungs.

She doesn’t really feel Gilly’s arm slip from hers, or even consciously mean to take two steps forward. Jon’s eyes are locked on her as his dress shoes echo softly across the marble.

“You’re here,” she breathes as he stops just a few feet before her, brain still struggling to reorient itself. “How?”

He grins and reaches out to take her hand in a shock of contact. “Well, I was really tired of fish and chips.”

singing how long is love gonna be

Chapter 4 of 5

iv. quality time

It’s 5 pm her time, 10 pm Jon’s time, and they are studying together. Well, Sansa is trying to study, but mostly she keeps getting distracted by the way his forearm flexes every time he jots something down in his notebook. God, she wants him. Misses him.

He’s in his apartment–flat–surrounded by books and wood panelling. A mug of coffee steams in one corner of his cluttered desk. There is a cloistered silence about the space that exudes loneliness. The sort of melancholy that lingers in transient spaces occupied by people for a small capsule of time before they move on.

Something flashes across his face, fully drawing her attention. “What are you reading?” she asks.

He startles a little and blushes, intriguing her further. She puts her own pen down and sets her notebook aside.

“Oh, uh, just some Cummings.”

“Read some to me,” she says, bracing her chin on her palm and fluttering her lashes at him.

He rubs at the back of his neck and looks at her sideways. She’s not above begging. “Pleeeeease?”

He chuckles and draws the text closer. “Alright, alright.”

singing how long is love gonna be

Chapter 3 of 5

iii. receiving gifts

She opens her eyes, and Jon is watching her with a weight she finally understands. She tilts her head at him and darts her tongue out to catch a snowflake on her lips. It tastes sharp and sweet, like the desire spreading in her veins. His eyes follow the motion, and his throat bobs above the zipper of his coat.

Enough, she thinks. Enough waiting.

“Jon Snow,” she says, taking a step closer to him. “Are you ever going to kiss me?”

He huffs out a stunted laugh, and heat darkens his expression as he takes an answering step towards her. His still-warm hand comes up to cup her damp cheek, thumb catching on her lower lip. Only great restraint keeps her from capturing it in her mouth. Hunger rips through her, and she feels ravenous with it. Desperate.

“If I kiss you…” He draws in a harsh breath, his eyes flicking between her gaze and mouth like a man torn between duty and desire. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to let you go.”

The words are intense, as free of pretense as he is, and it’s the sexiest thing anyone has ever said to her.

She’s tired of feeling disposable. She wants to be the ruin of someone. She wants to drown in their devotion.

singing how long is love gonna be

Chapter 2 of 5

ii. words of affirmation

Students pour into the courtyard, their voices swelling against the old stone buildings like a discordant symphony. The wind that tugs at her braid has enough bite that she wishes she’d thought to bring her jacket as her shoulders hunch around her ears. Her classmates spread to either side of her like she’s a boulder caught in a rush of water, and she forces herself into motion, hurrying across the courtyard.

singing how long is love gonna be

Chapter 1 of 5

(Written for the Jonsa Valentine 2026)

i. acts of service

Chapter 10

future fic, violence, ptsd, mentions of past rape and violence, brief depictions of slavery

Through the pillars of the trunks, staying firmly in the shadows, Salo watches William follow Jenny out into the gently falling snow like a man caught in the throes of a dream. She beams as she turns back to her lover, color high in her cheeks as she spins slowly in a circle, her hooded face tilted upwards, letting the snowflakes melt on her partially exposed cheeks and catch in her dusky lashes. William watches her, snow glinting in his curls, with an expression of such soft and adoring warmth it seems to transform him entirely. The scars recede along with the gloom in his eyes as he chuckles, the sound deep and warm. She spins again, and William suddenly darts out his arms to capture her against his chest and swing her around. Jenny gasps and laughs as her feet kick —the moon caught by the wolf.