Jhsjlssajlkd You Never Fail To Amaze Me.

jhsjlssajlkd you never fail to amaze me.

Flashbacks [P.A]

Paul Atreides x reader

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: not explicitly mentioned but reader has experience of AS (sexual assault) if you are sensitive to this topic please refrain from reading it and if you need to talk about something my dm's are always open.

A/N: This was a request, for that reason I touch on the subject of the AS, but I clarify that I tried to write it in the most pleasant way possible and an apology in advance if there is something wrong

You adjusted your shirt and walked into the training room, deep in thought. It had been a few weeks (if not almost months) since that accident you had had and dealing with it was causing you horrible migraines.

You had gone to Dr. Yueh to talk a little about it, but he had only given you medicine and explained that migraines of this type occur in situations of great stress. You had read about it on occasion, it was called "post-traumatic stress disorder" and it had to be treated with another type of specialist, but you could hardly think about it without feeling the anxiety consuming you, so you couldn’t imagine talking about the situation with some adult.

The only thing left for you was to turn to your best friend of all life: Paul. He was, without a doubt, the sweetest boy you have ever had the joy of meeting. Although he was important in the world of politics, you had never seen him be rude (to whom he did not deserve it) and you loved the contrast of his authoritarian and imposing personality with the kindness and sweetness with which he treated you. He had never questioned (to some extent) your decisions, he had only supported them, and that was no exception. You had thought very seriously about whether to ask for help because that would involve questions that you did not know if you could answer. But what else could you do? After all the fear that it would happen again was going to be latent throughout your life and it was better to be prepared, maybe not mentally but physically.

"You were early," Paul said with a smile. You had never been the most punctual person and he knew it. But that day in particular you didn't have the heart to joke around so you just smiled at him.

Paul wore a rather loose white shirt, black pants, and his usual boots. It wasn't something new, but his messy hair gave it an attractive touch.

"My head hurts a little, be nice" you warned him. You had previously undergone training (when you were very little) but growing up and having the physical changes that came with adolescence, your father decided it was better to quit. So that's why you knew a couple of moves, but Paul was outpacing you by a lot.

"Today we will have combat, to prove what I have taught you so far" he informed you. You were going to complain, but after all, he was the teacher and you had also requested his support yourself. You weren't going to say anything for something you asked yourself "Always remember to activate your shield"

"Will we use swords?"

“No, it will be combat without weapons. But I want to make sure I consider all the possibilities,” he explained. He was so sweet, so kind, with that soft voice that comforted you every time you listened to it. Every time you saw him you wanted to hug him and never let go of him, but that wasn’t your position in his life. In fact, it was an achievement to be able to be friends with him now that you thought better of it “I won't tell you the name of the movements, I want it to be something spontaneous. Imagine I'm a real threat” he spoke again. Paul a real threat? He would never pose a threat in your life. You got into position and nodded your head gently, after doing all the rituals with the shield and the preparation poses.

Paul wasn't pretending to be gentle (at least not in this situation) so he threw the first punch. You dodged him, but he threw another one and you had to block him anyway. Thus began a rather difficult match (clearly for you) where Paul was still suppressing his full capacity.

It had been very strange to him the day you had approached him for a favor. He had imagined many things, but that was not on the list. And of course, although he did not inquire into the matter, he did take care of Duncan to investigate if someone was bothering you and that the guards doubled the night rounds. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't get anything, so he just kept training you.

You were so engrossed in what movement you could anticipate that you didn't realize when Paul knocked you down (without the slightest effort, just sliding his legs against your feet) until the weight of his body took over. He was on you, not exerting much pressure, but it was definitely there.

You began to drown, prey to memories and fear until finally, you kicked him that you would never, I repeat, NEVER have given him in a normal situation. You had kicked him hard enough to suffocate him and you knew that he would have a bruise thanks to you. But your brain acted so unconsciously because you somehow saw his face in it, and that caused you to get this violent. But when he came back to reality, there was only Paul, bent over his torso and trying to catch his breath.

And suddenly all the adrenaline, the fear and the thirst for revenge turned to guilt and self-loathing.

"Oh my God," you whispered worried, looking at him. You didn't want to hurt him, but you were scared that he might hurt you. Suddenly everything seemed to turn black. Your sight blurred and your hands shook even more.

"Y/N!" he could say, still a little choked, "What the hell is wrong with you?" he asked, as angry as his body allowed. But when he noticed the tears falling from your eyes, he knew that something strange was happening.

"I'm so sorry, Paul, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" you said, repeating it countless times. You were blocked and panicked, so you had to fall against the nearest wall to keep your balance.

"Hey, hey… what's wrong?" he asked with a frown, totally confused. With a bit of effort, he reached over to you and tried to grab your arm, but you pulled away again. It was a reflex action and you hated yourself a little more for your reaction to the support he wanted to show you "Y/N..."

"I'm sorry, Paul, I... just forgive me, please" you sobbed and tears burst from your eyes. Then he forgot the pain, he forgot the anger and whatever else he had nothing to do with you.

"Y/N, explain to me what happens," he asked worriedly. This time he didn't try to touch you, instead, he kept a reasonable distance waiting for you to approach. And it did not take long to do it, because a few seconds later you threw yourself against his arms in search of comfort.

You wept bitterly, clinging to his arms as if they were an anchor to the real world, while everything you had kept on your chest for the past few months was present. Needless to say, the boy didn't understand anything at all, but that didn't stop him from comforting you.

So, after crying until your eyes were completely swollen, you decided that you had to talk to someone about it. And as you told Paul what had happened a sea of ​​emotions swirled inside you, ending in more tears.

He didn't want to pressure you and he didn't know what to say, but he was waiting for the moment to ask you for the name of the bastard who was causing you such suffering. And in a way, he also felt guilty, because the thought that this had happened to you under his own roof and for so long had made him completely ill.

You were his adoration; the owner of his heart, and he had let that happen to you. He could never forgive himself.

“That is why I asked you… that is why I asked you for help. I want to know how to defend myself, I want... maybe if he had known before, things would have been different”

"This will not happen again" he sentenced. Both of you were sitting on the floor, wrapped in each other's arms "You should..." he was going to say you should have told me before, but he didn't want to make you feel even worse "Y/N, why didn't you talk about this with someone?"

"I'm scared" you answered in a sob "I feel so bad and so nasty..."

"Stop," he said seriously. It hurt to the bottom of his heart to see you that way. His hand instantly went to your cheek, wiping the tears away with his thumb. “None of this was your fault. You… God, just tell me the name of that man and consider him dead today” he spoke. You have never seen him this angry "I hate myself so much for letting this happen because... I love you so much" he confessed. Your eyes widened upon hearing his words “And from now on you are going to have an escort assigned by myself. Nobody around you will dare to put a finger on you, do you hear me?” he promised you. His hands silently asked permission to surround your waist and your gaze said yes, allowing him to shorten the distance between you "Y/N, I'm so sorry" he said and now it was his turn to sob. He understood that you were fearful of his closeness, so he didn't try to make any sudden movements. Rather, he ran his hand carefully down the side of your face. “Let me take care of you from now on. Please, I just… I just want to protect you. You are what matters most to me in life” he confessed again. He wanted to kiss you, but he stopped. I was going to give you all the space and time you needed.

"Thanks, Paul," you said barely audible, catching his face in your hands. His hands no longer made you feel bad, his closeness was no longer unpleasant. It was just him, your Paul.

You leaned a little more against him, feeling safe and protected in his arms until sleep overcame you and the boy had to carry you to your room. There he stayed for as long as it took, taking care of your dreams and making sure you were safe.

No one would ever hurt you again. Never.

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THIS IS SO ADORABLE AND FLUFFY AAA MY HEARTT

Hi can I get an E11 with Kaz Brekker? Thanks!!

Fandom: Shadow and Bone

Prompt: E11. Listening to music

A/N: I hope you like it!

Word count: 435

Yet another day at the Slat. Kaz was making plans, like usual and you read a book near his table. You finished your chapter and yawned.

"Tired already?" he asked, not lifting his gaze from the blueprint.

"I can't understand how you can sit there for hours, looking at the blueprints." you replied and let your gaze go around the room and your eyes settled on a gramophone. "Hey, where did you get that?"

Kaz lifted his gaze momentarily, following your line of sigh and smirked before he went back to looking at his plan. "It's an authentic Casart, first of its kind, about a hundred and fifty years old. It will pay us at least fifty thousand kruge."

"You're going to sell it? Are you nuts?" you gasped, making Kaz look at you again and you made your way to the gramophone, noticing it still had a vinyl disc in place. "This is the coolest thing ever."

Kaz raised his eyebrows at you. "I have no use for such device. I can't concentrate on work if I have to listen to music right next to my ear."

You chuckled. "Then don't work, let's just listen."

"I don't have time for-"

"Oh c'mon Kaz, just one song? Please?" you pouted, and Kaz rolled his eyes, putting his quill down and leaning back on his chair.

"All right then. One song," he agreed, and his lips quirked up slightly when your face lit up at his words. You excitedly rotated the wheel and moved the stylus to the vinyl, a soft piano music filling the room. You clapped, pleased with how well it still worked and sat back beside Kaz, and you both just listened the song play on. You smiled widely through the whole song, and Kaz had to admit, the music was beautiful. Nothing like the drunken songs some customers played at the club - he had partly expected something like that.

When the song came to close, you slowly rose up from your seat, intending to keep your promise about just one song, but you were stopped when you felt a gloved hand wrap around your wrist. You turned to look at Kaz, but he just shook your head, earning another bright smile from you. You sat back down, and Kaz returned to his work, finding the soft piano music in the background calming and it actually made him think more creatively, if it was even possible.

Music wasn't something that Kaz Brekker had valued that greatly before as listening to it didn't pay him kruge, but on this moment, he had been proven wrong.

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this fits her character so well 🥰🥰 I can imagine her walking around and making sure everything goes perfectly!

[x] IMAGINE YOUR WIFE LINDA MARTIN SURPRISING YOU WITH A FANCY DINNER TO CELEBRATE YOU BEING ABLE TO CALL YOURSELF FREE FROM SELF-HARMING.

requested by @eyesofmaze (I hope you're ok Mira 💕)

---

"Y/N's here in about thirty minutes," Linda told her friends after she read the text from you, and immediately started to set up the plates on the table and Lucifer seemed to use his satanic powers to chop faster.

Linda had been fuzzing and stressing around, Chloe, Lucifer and Amenadiel helping her to set things up so everything would be ready when you'd come home from work and they'd also have time to sneak out.

It had been exactly three years since you had last self-harmed, and Linda wanted to celebrate it. Her friends were immediately there, ready to help her since preparing a fancy dinner on her own would have been way too much work, especially when she was nervously excited about it too. It was better to have six extra hands helping her, and two smaller hands because Trixie had come along too, helping to decorate the table.

Linda was insistent that everything had to be perfect, you had been so brave and strong. Chloe tried to tell her that if the table cloth had one folded corner, you wouldn't notice it or at least wouldn't mind, and that you would be amazed about the surprise. Linda knew that, she knew that you would probably be so moved about the gesture that you wouldn't notice it even if the kitchen would be a complete mess and the table would look like it was hastily put together. But the truth was that the table was gorgeous, decorated with fairy lights, flower petals and paper hearts Trixie had made, your and Linda's plates looking like they were set up by a real fancy restaurant staff. And the food was coming together nicely as well, this evening would be perfect.

It took another twenty minutes before everything had been fried and taken from the oven and just as they laid the dinner on the table, your car's lights illuminated the living room and everyone froze. But Amanadiel thought fast, ushering the rest of them to the back door and Linda sat by the table in her dress, telling herself it all over again when she heard the keys turning in the lock - this was going to be perfect.

Tags: @noncannonships @amirahiddleston @bookfrog242 @katherinepetrovawife @scandalous-chaos // if you want to be added on any of my taglists, send me an ask with your desired fandoms or add yourself!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA THIS HAD ME GRINNING ALL THE WAY NO SHIT THIS IS LIKE ONE OF MY FAV LUPIN FICS STOP HKJFKLFLL I LOVE HOW HE GAVE LILY’S NUMBER LMFAO I HAVENT READ MANY MUGGLE!READER LUPIN FICS AND DAMN

I Think He Knows (1.3k)

summary: when you leave remus' flat awkwardly and abruptly after a chemistry filled kiss, you want him but don't know how to tell him.

warnings: making outtttt

pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

a/n: this fic honestly had no direction, I just struggled with it and just .... idek, I apologize for how this turned out. Not really my best work

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

I think he knows

When we get all alone

I'll make myself at home

And he'll want me to stay

"Nice flat." You commented, making a whistling sound as your gaze travels to a bookshelf. Different colors and sizes of the books somehow accentuate the flat more.

"Thanks." The boy accepted, dropping his keys on the kitchen island. His name was Remus Lupin, a person you've met just 30 minutes ago in a crowded pub.

"So what d'you do? A collector of some sorts? I see these wands and scrolls, looks pretty ancient. Oh! Or are you an explorer? Sounds interesting, never met a guy who does that." You ramble, smiling a little at the strange collection of stuff that Remus had.

The boy smiles at your words, already growing excited that he met a curious girl. Remus had always had an inkling to people like you, people who wanted to know things about someone. People who want a deeper connection. But then again, it may just be common courtesy.

"Ah, I'm a ... professor." He says, leaning against the island to admire your curious soul.

"What subject d'you teach? History? Or .... archeology? Both are fairly interesting, from the looks of it I'd say you're more of a History type of teacher." You inquired, looking at him while inspecting his face.

"Uh .... history." Remus blurted. He couldn't exactly say Defense Against the Dark Arts to a muggle could he?

You smile at him, taking a cube looking figure from one of his shelves. "Are these just something you collect or things you teach your class with?" You questioned.

Remus chuckled, walking over to where you were and taking the figure from your hands to put it back into the shelf. "Be careful ... these are ah ... fragile."

Because Remus stood so tall, he had to look down on you. He was a little surprised at how close you two were, the edge of his shoes touching the point of your boots. He got a closer look at you, eyes staring at him curiously and brows pointed up as I'd to ask him what he was looking at.

Then before he could lean down to press a kiss on your lips, you stepped away from him and took of your coat. "Sorry, it's a little warm in here." You told him, a teasing smile playing on your lips as you saw Remus' expression.

"No, problem. Just—"

With a light thud, your boots came off and you sat down comfortably on his couch. "—make yourself at home." Remus finished as he grinned at you. He bit his lip, swallowing the comment he was about to blurt on how adorable you sat there in his couch.

Remus took it upon himself to sit beside you, placing himself atop the cushions. Remus thought about how easily comfortable you got the second you stepped into his flat. It made his heart beat a little faster, not wanting you to leave.

You leaned closer to the boy, slinging both arms around his neck and pulling him closer. "God, I've craved your lips the moment of saw you in that pub." You said boldly.

I think he knows

He better lock it down

Or I won't stick around

'Cause good ones never wait

Remus took your words as an invite to kiss you, his lips pressing harshly against yours. Your hands go to the back of his neck, fingers playing with the hair on his nape.

Remus kisses you with feeling, making a mark of pleasure run through your body. He cups your cheek with the palm of his hand, caressing you softly and gasping when you slip your tongue inside his mouth.

He already has you locked up, certain that he already had you captured in his spell. His scent envelops you, chamomile and a faint smell of plants fill your nostrils.

He got that boyish look that I like in a man

I am an architect, I'm drawing up the plans

He's so obsessed with me, and boy I understand

Boy I understand

You're at war with your head, rethinking every decision of yours.To pull away or to take it further? You decide to follow the first one, taking everything in you to finally release yourself from Remus.

You finally get a chance to look at him. Really admire how he looked in front of you, sitting handsomely and all. You took note of how freckles littered his face, trying to count them would be impossible. You also noted small scars all over his face, some barely visible yet you can see from so close.

His sandy hair dropped down to his forehead, looking fluffy and soft as it rests unbothered. You think of pressing a kiss on his forehead, wanting to see the flushing effect it would have on his pale skin.

"Sorry ..." You mutter hesitantly. You tried to shut off your mind, honestly you did. But you couldn't tune out the domestic thoughts you had of him. You think of how it would feel to have him stare and gaze at you longingly.

Maybe you're a little too confident, but by his hard stare that's burning holes to your face, you think of how obsessed he is with you right now. He must be, because you felt the same stare he was giving you now like the one he gave you at the pub.

Heavy breaths follow, the sounds echoing and filling the flat. "Have I done something wrong?" He asked, partly angry and partly sad when you stopped the kiss.

"Um ... no, not really." You smile tightly, trying to say something that wouldn't end with him showing you the door awkwardly. "I just— I don't really want to fuck you." You said, biting your lip almost immediately as you cringed at your words. "No! That's not what I meant, sorry! I meant ... uh— I just ... don't want to now." You scratched the back of your head, silently and awkwardly waiting for him to reply.

Lyrical smile, indigo eyes, hand on my thigh

We can follow the sparks, I'll drive

"Oh ..." realization strucks Remus, him laughing in response, "Yeah, that's fine." He says.

"This is a bit awkward." You say, forcing a smile.

"Yeah, it is." He chuckled nervously, trying to ease the situation.

Remus still has his other hand on your thigh, not moving— afraid that he'll ruin the moment but also not wanting to move it away. You can feel the warmth spreading through your body as he rubs his thumb against your clothing.

You still have hope, lighting up at an idea. "Do you think I can have your cell though? I'd love to ring you sometime." You ask him, a genuine smile playing on your lips now.

Remus froze momentarily. He didn't have a cell, but he really wanted to keep in touch with you. He mentally scolded himself for always forgetting to buy one, remembering his friend Lily's words on how it was very vital if he wanted to live among muggles. But then he smiled at you, hoping that this would work. Remus didn't have a cell, but Lily did. So for now, she probably wouldn't mind. Before anymore stupid ideas ran through his mind, Remus blurted out his friends cell number.

Then you beamed at him, standing up and pecking his lips one last time. You grabbed your coat and your boots, ready to leave. Remus spun you around though, his hand slipping through your fingers.

He shoved the thought of how your fingers slipped together so flawlessly aside. Then he pressed a proper kiss to your lips, sensing his own cheeks heat up and feeling like a teenage boy at how excited he got. This time, the kiss felt more energetic. As cliche and idiotic as it sounded, you felt sparks fly all over you. The chemistry between you two was so evident, stringing through every kiss and simple graze of skin.

You giggled into him, finally pulling away and shaking your head with a smile so wide. "I'll call you." You tell him assuringly. Then you were out the door, stumbling on your feet as your head grew dizzy— thoughts of Remus Lupin never leaving your head.

I want you, bless my soul

I ain't gotta tell him

I think he knows

—@ wrathspoet

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Marauders: @risingtripletaurus @athenapotter /send me an ask if you want to be added to the taglist!

THIS IS BRILLIANT!! 

Was he flirting with you?

damn yes he is.

the ending was awesome and I love the idea <3

Scoops ahoy [R. H.]

Rodrick Heffley x reader

Word count: 1.1k

A/N: I am a big fan of "Stranger Things" and although I didn't have it planned at first when I thought of an ice cream Scoops Ahoy came to my mind instantly and therefore the sailor uniforms. I had fun doing this, I hope you like it!

You sighed rather bored, turning a coin you took out of the tip jar in front of you. It was summer, the sun was beating down the streets, and everyone was in the Plainsville pools. Well, everyone except the ice cream shop customers, you and...

"Rodrick!" you yelled at him, making the spoon in his hand fall to the floor "Don't eat the ice cream!"

"I'm not eating the ice cream," he defended himself, but from the way he tried to hold the liquid in his mouth, it was obvious that he was lying.

You hated to admit that the boy looked so cute in that sailor uniform you were forced to wear, the complete opposite of the black clothes he normally wore. In the first place, you didn't even know how the hell someone had convinced him to use that. The more logical options were that he had lost a bet with his younger brother or his parents had sent him there as punishment or he simply couldn't find another place that would agree to employ him. Either way, you were happy to have it there, as the hours weren't so boring. Even if you kept scolding him.

"Better take tip money and pay for a full ice cream" you laughed, offering him the glass jar "And wash that spoon, please," you said pinching your nose while he smiled.

"You know, I've been thinking about it..." he started to say.

“About the spoon?”

“About the work” he answered, ignoring your comment as he approached you, putting a hand on your side and somehow imprisoning you between his body and the counter "I have five potential plans to—"

“No. water. balloons.”

"Fiiiiiiiine. I have two and a half potential plans to get us out of work this afternoon” he completed and you shook your head. The last time Rodrick had told you about his plans, you had ended up drenched to your socks and you still had to stay to work your entire shift. You didn't want to repeat that story.

"If you're going to keep complaining all afternoon, why are you working here in the first place?" you asked funny. And your curiosity was sincere because you really didn’t imagine that both would end there. I mean, you knew him from school and stuff, but you had never been the best of friends. In fact, you had started talking (really talking) when he applied for that job. The place was empty at the time, with just both of you looking at each other and smiling at each other. You didn't know if it was intentional or it was the smell of the detergent his mother used, but with the proximity of the moment, you noticed that Rodrick smelled quite good.

“Well...” he started to say, fleeing from your gaze. Suddenly he had become extremely shy and the blush on his cheeks betrayed him "I heard they gave the employees free ice cream"

"That is not true."

"Only the best" he boasted and you stifled a laugh, feeling watched by his watchful brown eyes, which you had to admit were very pretty.

Maybe it was due to the lack of contact with teenagers that you had had in recent weeks, but as much as you wanted to deny it Rodrick was beginning to seem attractive. He was honestly not the kind of guy you could introduce to your parents and they would be proud of, but you didn't dislike the idea of ​​hanging out with him either.

"You say a lot of nonsense, did you know that?"

"Yeah, I like to hear you laugh," he kindly admitted which took you by surprise. Was he flirting with you?

The doorbell rang and the two of you had to separate, with a slight shade of pink on your cheeks. You were in charge of serving the ice cream while Rodrick made God-only-knows-what in the kitchen of the establishment and once the customer left Rodrick returned.

"Why don't you ever serve any ice cream? Do you think they pay you just for your pretty face?”

“Do you think my face is pretty?” he asked amused.

“Do you think your face is pretty?” he counterattacked, looking at him with a defiant expression and your arms crossed. Ok, not only was he attracted to you, but you liked that boy. He had something that made him sexy and cute at the same time. You didn't know how to explain it, it just happened.

He laughed and you saw that he had a spoon in his hand. Oh, that's what he had come to do in the kitchen.

"You want an ice cream?"

"I am not going to steal it"

"I'll pay for it," he said, raising his hands in a sign of peace “I promise” he admitted, and you pointed out your two favorite flavors and he made some balls (somewhat ugly, to be honest) that he served in a cone, while he served another for himself.

Both of you sat at the tables while chatting happily, grateful that no customers had arrived yet, and laughing at just about anything.

"You know, I thought this job would be horrible and I would get shitty pay, but I have you as a partner and the idea of ​​stealing the ice cream doesn't sound so bad anymore" you confessed and he smiled broadly at you "I dare say the worst of the day is the bus I have to take to go home”

"Do you have to take the bus?" he asked with a frown and you nodded “Why didn't you say it before? I can take you home. I have a car

"Do you have a car?"

"Yeah, it's… well, it’s not a car, it’s the ugly white van that's parked in the back,” he replied amused.

"The one that says something about a diaper?"

"Yes, that. It's the name of my band”

“Uh, I thought some puberty had done it to annoy” you replied and he seemed offended, which made you laugh.

"Even if you judge my means of transport, you can still use it" he replied with a shrug.

"I'll pay you the same as I pay on the bus" you offered and he denied.

"Silly stuff. If you want to spend that money, let's go get an Icee at the mall” he suggested without much interest. He wanted to ask you out, but he didn't want to look so obvious and he didn't want to suffer the shame of rejection. Apparently, he was smarter than you imagined.

"It's a deal" you smiled, reaching out your hand and letting him hold it for a little longer than expected. You were about to say something else when you both jumped in your seat at a scream coming from the entrance.

"I'm not paying you to flirt with each other!" your boss said and both of you got up instantly to go to your places again “And are you stealing the merchandise?”

"No" you answered in unison and when you looked at him, you shared a knowing smile. The first of many.

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me after reading this:

DECEMBER DRABBLES – DAY SIXTEEN: "There’s no way you can get me to go to your parent’s house for Christmas dinner" with Stephen Strange from Marvel.

“No,” Stephen said, putting his bag down on the kitchen island and walking over to the fridge. He was barely in the door of your apartment to stay the night and you’d already bombarded him with the worst possible question. “I appreciate the thought, but no.”

You pouted and sat up on one of the stools. “But why?”

He got a bottle of beer out of your fridge, closed the door and then popped the lid off before leaning up against the counter behind him. It was all very domestic, him being in your home and treating it like his. You liked that he did that whenever he came over.

“I just don’t do those things,” he took a swig of the beer, “I’m not a parents kinda guy.”

Stephen had met your parents before. It wasn’t like he’d never seen them in his entire life. Sure, the meeting had been quite brief and Stephen had to dash off very quickly after introducing himself, but he had seen them. They knew who he was, and they’d liked him.

It was just him that thought they didn’t.

“Stephen, it’s just one night. It’s a few hours,” you leant on your hand. “I’d really rather you came with me so I didn’t have to go alone. I’ll only get asked questions all night about where you are if you don’t come with me.”

He raised his eyebrows at you. “There’s no way you can get me to go to your parents house for Christmas dinner.” He was very certain in his words.

With a sigh, you slumped back and leaned against the back of the stool. It was useless trying, even though you thought you might be able to win him over. “Okay,” your voice was small on purpose, “I’m sorry for asking. I’ll just go alone. We’ll have to spend Christmas apart this year.”

That caught his attention. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well, you were my way out of spending the whole few weeks at my parents place. They want me to stay from before Christmas until after the New Year. I said I’d check with you, since you have work here so we might only be able to make the dinner,” you explained.

Stephen huffed. He didn’t want to have to spend so much time away from you, especially over the Christmas season. He wasn’t a huge fan of Christmas as it was, but the idea of being alone over it just seemed plain sad. And the idea of you, cooped up alone with your parents for two weeks? That wasn’t a welcome idea for either of you.

“So, it’d just be a few hours…” He takes another drink of beer in an attempt to quell his dislike for the thought of having to go to the dinner.

“Yeah… just a night. Then I’d be free to spend New Year with you.”

You can feel him slowly relenting. Neither of you were keen on the idea of spending so much time apart over the Christmas season, it seemed.

Stephen took a much longer drink of his beer. “Fine, I’ll go. But we have to spend New Year together, no exceptions. I’ll allow Christmas night to go to your family but that’s all.”

A smile started to creep onto your face. It hadn’t taken as much work to get him to give in as you’d expected. But Stephen was so in love with you that even if it meant sitting down for an awkward dinner for a few hours just to be able to spend the rest of the week with you, he’d do it.