Hearing footsteps approach, you make sure to keep the newspaper in front of your face, to hide the grin that had already crept onto it. You knew that Bucky was about to enter the kitchen, and merely being around him made you smile. Which was embarrassing when he caught you.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” you consciously wipe the smile from your face and finally lower the newspaper. Although, a part of you wish you hadn’t. Bucky was shirtless, and his hair was tied into a small man bun with a few pieces having fallen out. You couldn’t tear your eyes away, every time you saw him you were convinced he couldn’t get any more attractive; then he’d prove you wrong.
“It’s like… 11am, it’s not even late,” Bucky chuckled as he sat down across from you at the table.
“Yeah, but don’t you usually wake up around 5 to work out?”
He nods, “But someone kept me up all night to watch the last 3 Harry Potter films,” he gives you an accusatory look before flashing you a smile.
Steve, Natasha, Sam, Wanda and Tony were on a mission. Clint and Thor were at their respective homes, and Bruce and Vision hardly left the lab. Leaving you and Bucky alone all week. You had decided that since he was helping you learn about his era, you would teach him about yours.
You shrug, “Sounds like a night well spent to me,” you can’t suppress the grin that breaks out on your face.
“Yeah, it was,” Bucky’s voice was barely above a whisper, and he was staring at you with such intensity you couldn’t hold eye contact.
Carefully removing Lin’s arm from around your waist, you made your way to the frost bitten window.
You looked out to the see the first snowfall of the year. Which is very surprising since New York’s snow starts early November.
You watched as the snowflakes fluttered down to the ground below, becoming a part of the winter blanket. The barely rising sun on the horizon casted its dim rays and made the sight even more spectacular.
Getting lost in the scene, you thought about all the events that happened to you the following year.
Auditioning, Callbacks, Being Cast, Sweat, Tears, Laughter, and Drama rolled all into a box by a wench that pulled at the strings unfolded. And these experiences made you into a better person this year.
Especially the good ones. Finding out that the person that you have looked up to and praised like he was the Lord himself harbored feelings for you like you did him. Not even distractions took away his love from you. Through the stares, comments, and questions about the age difference, Lin proudly showed you off. You were his and he was yours.
“I was wondering when the snow will get to the Big Apple,” Lin mumbled sleepily into your ear. He wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on top of your head.
You drew freely on his arm with a finger. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”
He leaned down to kiss your cheek. “Not at all. Just felt the change in the weather and had to check it out myself.”
You rolled your eyes. “So basically, you didn’t feel my presence and got up to see what’s wrong?”
There was a pause before he chuckled. “Damn it.”
“At least it came right on time. Tomorrow is Christmas,” you stated.
“And I’m overjoyed Santa gave me exactly what I wanted.”
You turned around while still in his arms, confusion written over your face as you stared up at him. His arms tightened around you as he leaned down to rub your noses together. His lips soon meet yours, tangled in a passionate kiss. After a few minutes he broke away to reply:
Tamlin was ever so apologetic about the table incident, which was never mentioned again, although new presents would arrive daily. One morning it would be paints, the next a pretty dress, new shoes, a painting. Whatever Tamlin thought would win back Feyre’s affection. Christmas passed with even more expensive gifts heaped upon Feyre, but the gifts that had meant the most to her had been on Christmas Eve after finishing her shift at Mor’s.
Mor had invited her friends around to close the shop early and have what she called a ‘family’ dinner. Feyre sat in between Amren and Mor, and opposite Rhys. She had managed to make Amren laugh which Feyre considered a great feat, and teamed up with Cassian to tease Rhys for most of the night. Rhys pretended to be offended, but Feyre could tell he was secretly pleased that she was getting along with his friends.
After dinner they had brought out presents which surprised Feyre, as she had not gotten anyone a gift, besides Mor for employing her. Feyre had painted for her the dark interior of the shop with snow falling softly outside the window as people crowded to get in. Mor had hugged Feyre and proudly hung up the painting on the wall behind the counter.
To Feyre’s horror, the gang had all gotten her a present each.
“But I don’t have anything for you.” She said sadly.
“We didn’t expect it of you, but we wanted to show you that you’re one of us now.” Cassian smirked, while pushing his box closer so she would open it first.
A bit timidly, Feyre unwrapped a pair of boxing gloves. She held them up quizzically.
“But I don’t know how to box.”
“That’s why I’m going to teach you.” Cassian beamed.
“Cass is a personal trainer, one of the best really.” Mor offered.
Feyre cast a suspicious look at Rhys who had his head down studiously staring into his coffee that Feyre had made for him. She couldn’t help but wonder if he hadn’t entirely bought her stories about the bruise on her leg, the stories she came up with for the new ones on her arms.
Next Feyre unwrapped a beautiful necklace from Amren. It was a silver chain with dozens of small diamonds suspended from it, twinkling like tiny stars as they caught the light. Somehow, the necklace meant more to her than all the expensive jewellery that Tamlin had bought for her. Then Feyre felt bad for not appreciating his thoughtful gifts as much as the people Feyre had barely known for a few months.
“Do you not like it Feyre? I knew I should have gone for the blood red rubies.”
“No! It’s not that at all. Actually would you help me put it on now?” Feyre rushed to reassure her.
Amren slid the cool chain around Feyre’s exposed neck. The necklace hung just above the neckline of her black dress, with some of the lower diamonds drawing attention to how low cut her dress was. When Feyre looked up from admiring it, she found Rhys staring intensely at her.
Azriel coughed pointedly, while side eyeing Rhys with amusement, before handing Feyre a small package. Feyre opened it, trying to shake off the feeling of Rhys’s gaze on her, to discover a small book. 'The Little Prince’. Feyre ran her hands over the cover in wonder.
“Rhys told me how well you’re doing with your reading now, so I hope you don’t mind, but I wanted to give you your first book.” Azriel said, looking like he wanted nothing more than to disappear into the dark shadows of the shop.
“Thank you. I love it! I’ll go home and read it tonight.” Feyre promised.
She saw the tension leave Azriel’s shoulders as he offered her a shy smile.
“Alright, my turn, my turn!” Mor yelled as she shoved another hastily wrapped package into Feyre’s hands. “Az and I were talking about what to get you when he rudely stole my idea.” Mor glared at Azriel who merely shrugged.
“You know mine is the better book.” He said, his eyes lighting up with a twinkle that Feyre was beginning to recognise only appeared when he was around Mor.
Feyre laughed as she saw the book Mor had given her, 'How To Make Coffee, For Dummies’.
“I think Feyre makes coffee just fine.” Rhys offered, only to be shot down by Amren who claimed she would rather drink cyanide than whatever Feyre made for Rhys.
“Rhys just likes to prove how big and tough he is by drinking terrible coffee.” Cassian laughed.
Despite their taunts Feyre laughed as well, knowing it meant that they accepted her and teased her as one of their own. Besides, Feyre made all their coffees for them now and had never had a complaint other then when she was experimenting.
“Come on Rhys, show Feyre what you’ve got for her!” Mor said, buzzing with excitement.
Wariness crept in as Rhys held out a piece of paper for Feyre. She reached for it, briefly brushing her hand along Rhys’s as she grabbed it. Feyre felt the eyes of everyone on her as she opened a letter. A letter from the most prestigious art academy in town. With shaking hands Feyre read through it.
“They… want to give me a scholarship. Why? How?” Feyre looked at Rhys in confusion.
Rhys gave her an embarrassed smile before saying, “I have a friend of a friend that works there. I might have mentioned you to him, how hard you work at the store, in our reading lessons, and of course what an astounding artist you are. He said he would love to meet you and that there would be a position for you there next year… if that’s what you wanted.”
“He was gloating about you basically.” Cassian said impishly.
“When isn’t he?” Amren added.
Feyre could only make an odd choking noise as she tried to comprehend what this could mean for her. Abruptly she stood from the table, causing everyone else to jump up as well. Before she could stop herself, Feyre had crossed the room to fling herself into Rhys’s arms. At first Rhys seemed shocked to have a sobbing Feyre holding him, before he returned her hug tentatively.
“Arrogant prick. Always has to show up everyone else’s presents.” Mor said to Azriel who nodded in agreement.
In the end, Feyre hugged everyone else too, in thanks for their presents, and not at all because she was embarrassed to have hugged Rhys in front of them all.
A few hours later Feyre said goodbye as she noticed Lucien’s car pull up. Near the door Rhys pulled her aside.
“Feyre, I just want you to know that if you ever need me, or are scared, please call me.” Rhys eyed the bruises on her arms and Feyre shifted so they were less visible. “I won’t ask questions. Not if you don’t want me to. I’ll be happy just knowing you’re safe. You have my number still?”
Feyre’s mind flashed back to when she had first met Rhys after she had hit him with a snowball, and he had handed her a piece of paper with his number. She still had it stashed in her underwear drawer so it wouldn’t be found. She nodded at his insistent look, just as Cassian drunkenly called out.
“Looks like someone’s standing under some mistletoe!”
Feyre in horror looked up at the same time as Rhys to find Mor had indeed placed some mistletoe above the door. Rhys flashed a menacing warning glare at Cassian, but it was too late. Feyre had already fled the shop.
“Fun party?” Lucien asked in amusement at seeing her red face.
“Great.” Feyre replied glumly.
“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to go.” He laughed.
With Tamlin not coming home until much later that night, Feyre had asked Lucien to take her to a ’work’ party. Lucien had agreed saying that it was Christmas and he was feeling generous, but warned her about not letting Tamlin know.
Lucien glanced at the presents clutched to her chest protectively, but thankfully didn’t ask Feyre what she had been given.
When they arrived home, Feyre groaned seeing the house lights were already on.
“Have fun kiddo. Merry Christmas!” Lucien saluted her, leaving for his own house.
“Coward.” Feyre muttered to his back.
Inside, Feyre found the living room lights and television on, but Tamlin was no where to be found.
“Tam?” Feyre called out.
A scuffling noise from her bedroom led her down the halls to cautiously peer into her room. Tamlin was sitting on her bed, a broken phone on the ground at his feet.
“What’s wrong?” Feyre asked in concern.
She breezed into the room to kneel before him so she could see into his face better. Tamlin flinched when she came near, looking down on her with a look of betrayal. Unease clenched Feyre’s stomach tight when she noticed a piece of paper in his hands. From the way he clenched it Feyre couldn’t make out any words, but the corner of a star peeked out at her.
Feyre made to move away but it was too late as an iron grip crushed her wrist, anchoring her in front of Tamlin.
“Whose phone number were you hiding from me, darling?” The deadly tone of voice he used turned Feyre’s stomach over as she heard Rhys’s endearment for her.
“You went through my things?” Feyre demanded. Not just any things either, her underwear drawer where she thought she would at least have some privacy.
“Clearly I was right to. You’ve been hiding things from me Feyre. Whose number?”
Feyre panicked under the accusations. She futilely tried to tug out of Tamlin’s grip as tears sprang from her eyes under the bone cracking pressure he exerted onto her wrist.
Looking at the broken phone on the ground Feyre could already guess what had happened. Tired of waiting for an explanation, Tamlin answered for her.
“I wondered what my darling Feyre could ever be hiding from me. Surely nothing, I thought while dialling the number. Maybe your boss, or a work friend I thought so innocently. You can imagine my surprise when Rhysand answered.”
More tears fell down Feyre’s face but she wasn’t sure it was entirely because of pain now.
“I didn’t call or text him, I promise! Tam he just gave it to me the other day. It was silly of me to keep it. I’m sorry.”
A bit of pressure eased off her throbbing wrist.
“Then why hide it?”
“Because you and Lucien seemed to hate him so much. I knew you wouldn’t want me to have it.”
“Exactly, so why even bother keeping it?” Tamlin pushed.
Tamlin held out his hand. “Phone.” He demanded.
Wordlessly, Feyre handed it over. Tamlin scrolled through her recent texts, then her calls. Satisfied he returned it to her. That was when he noticed the gifts she had hastily flung onto the ground when she had run to him.
“I got invited to a work party and got a few presents.”
“Boxing gloves?” Tamlin held them up after releasing Feyre’s arm and going to inspect the items.
Gratefully, Feyre sunk to the ground clutching her arm.
“Feyre I have tolerated your little job but I think a boxing class is taking things too far. You could get hurt.”
Feyre almost laughed from the irony as she looked up from her already bruised wrist. She watched nervously as Tamlin looked over the other objects, mercifully not paying attention to the slip of paper announcing she had been offered a scholarship. She would have to break that to Tamlin somehow. When he turned his attention back to her, Feyre flinched and his face softened.
“Feyre, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. But you scared me. I thought you had been seeing other… men behind my back. Let’s just forget about this alright?”
Feyre nodded solemnly as Tamlin tore up the piece of paper with Rhy’s number on it.
*skids into askbox* yo I have an idea for dino boy :D would you be able to write some hcs for Diego where he doesn't have as much control over scary monsters as he'd like - as in he can't stop a transformation once it starts or it could halt entirely halfway through the process and it really disorientates him - what would happen if his S/O (who has no idea about his ability) stumbled across him during one of these moments? what would he do and how would he react depending on if their reaction?
‘Why? Why now of all times?’ Was all that could run through Diego’s head. Everything had been so perfect up until this moment, especially you. The restaurant he took you to was, by far, the best in the US. The ride on Silver Bullet was near magical as you clung tightly to Diego’s back. And yet, with the two of you back at the hotel, Scary Monsters decided NOW was the time to act up.
Diego had never told you about Scary Monsters. To him, while Scary Monsters COULD have it’s upsides, it was nothing more than a burden and an inconvenience. It would act up at the worse of times, often resulting in moments where he had to suddenly leave you, even in the middle of important conversations. This has resulted in many misunderstandings between the two of you, which was not at ALL helped by Diego’s “I do nothing wrong ever and anything you perceive as wrong is because you’re wrong” attitude.
The two of you were laying together comfortably on the bed, but then Diego suddenly shot up in pain. You immediately wrapped your arms around him, asking him if he was okay and if he was hurt, but he’d just try to push you away, and even insulted you to try and get you to let go, but you wouldn’t.
“Diego, please! I don’t care whatever this is, just stop hiding this from me! I’m your
fiancé, aren’t I? You can’t expect to hide this for the rest of our lives, right?”
The only response you got was a low and pained sounding growl from Diego as he curled into himself. “I will do whatI want… now get away from– Urgh!
Diego’s breathing turned into pants as his entire body began to change. The side of his mouth began to crack, his nails turned sharp, his eyes became slits, and soon enough, his entire body changed shape.
Despite the transformation, Diego still had enough control of Scary Monsters to remain conscious at least. The thoughts of losing control, of hurting you, had been enough to keep his dinosaur instincts at bay. But even as he knew he was in control, he knew that you didn’t. Diego waited for you to scream, for you to fight and run from him… but you didn’t.
While he couldn’t see it coming, he suddenly felt your arms wrap around his neck, and your hand run down his back. You asked him if he was okay, if he was in any pain, and he could tell that you were scared and concerned. But, you weren’t scared for your sake…
Or, at least, you weren’t before you heard what a Dinosaur laugh sounded like…
<b>Arin:</b> I never had like, physical bullying. It was always verbal<p/><b>Danny:</b> Emotional<p/><b>Arin:</b> and it always had to do with whether or not I was gay- like that's- it's like, why is that even an insult?<p/><b>Danny:</b> It's not<p/><b>Arin:</b> And I never really like- I was like "No.. I'm not. and?"<p/><b>Danny:</b> It is weird, cause especially growing up in the 80's like, with school-yard bullying and shit like, gay was the worst thing you could be. And now like- now that we're all adults and y'know, we live in a city, have tons of gay friends, it's like "uh, alright". It'd be the same as if they were like "You're Chinese!" and it's like "eh.. s'just a thing.."<p/><b>Arin:</b> Yeah I was born that way<p/><b>Danny:</b> yeah, also i'm not. I happen to not be but it'd be fine if I was Chinese<p/></p>