Rat-tat-tat-on your dum-dum drum.

B.O.A.F., also known as Birds of a Feather is the upcoming band of a year, each member being a different bird hybrid. Carmilla, the black palm cockatoo drummer is the fan favorite. Who wouldn’t love her? Her unique style and charming personality captured the love of every girl in their audience.

The heart she didn’t quite have in her grasp was yours. Being apart of the band was great, hanging out with the lead vocalist Jack was always a good time and the bassist Annalise was sweet. But damn did Carmilla get under your skin when she sat you on her lap and excused it as fan service, or when she stuck her perfectly preened feathers in your face.

Another performance meant even more flirting from that feather brained stoner, not that you weren’t used to it by now. Your hair was freshly dyed, feathers glistening and slightly damp from your recent bird bath, makeup tweaked to perfection. You were exactly who Carmilla was looking to tease.

During the practice earlier she was oddly… calm. Composed. And very much not trying to slip her hand up your shirt. How unlike her. You almost let your guard down after seeing how peaceful your day had been.

8:24 PM, the audience had finally filled up since they knew you’d all be late as per usual, considering the show time was 7:00PM. You and the band had made their way to the stage, the first song going on without a single flaw. Your breath was heavy, eyes glazing over the entire crowd, earpiece unable to block out their cheers. Soon you felt a warm arm hook around your waist.

Your feathers ruffled and puffed up in shock, Carmilla pulled you into her lap during the break between songs, her pitch black wings wrapping around your body and encasing you in her softness, shielding you both from the audience who immediately suspected the most of what was happening between you both. They already made fanfiction and a ship name for you both.

“Hey sugar tits, miss me?”

She asked, her smirk still visible even in the darkness of her wings.

“Just one kiss is all I ask.”

Her hands wandered from your waist to your ass, the feeling of her manicured nails pressing into your skin through your clothes sending a shiver up your spine.