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#winter issue
atomic-chronoscaph · 1 year
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art by Jack Burnley (1943)
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michael-svetbird · 3 months
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ANTIQVVS Magazine Winter 2024 Issue is out now with my:
🔹 "Portraits of Olympian Goddesses" Illustrated Article [Page 7], 🔹 Contents Page Photo.
Web: https://www.antiqvvs-magazine.com
IG : @antiqvvsmagazine | instagram.com/antiqvvsmagazine
FB : facebook.com/antiqvvsmagazinvs
X : @Antiqmag | x.com/Antiqmag
Please consider subscribing: https://www.antiqvvs-magazine.com/subscribe-world
[MSP Disclaimer: The article, illustrations and this post are published within the frames of a non-commercial | nonprofit collaboration]
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citronreview-blog · 6 months
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Our Winter Issue has arrived. Sweet and sour and extra extra citron! https://citronreview.com/
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Dental health in the winter season: 6 dental problems you should avoid- Best Dental Clinic in East Tambaram - Dr Amarnathan's Dental Care
Are you ignoring the dental problems in winter while you are enjoying the season? Simply reading the entire blog will clear up any doubts. https://www.dramarnathansdentalcare.com/dental-health-in-the-winter-season-6-dental-problems-you-should-avoid/
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cappycodeart · 9 months
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"The dead one! Yeah I haven't thought about her in a long time!"
A little theory I've had about Winter King's original motives based on his heartless comment about Betty and Ice King's original motives for kidnapping princesses in the first place...... clearly she gave off Bad Ex Vibes…
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willingly unloved
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5ummit · 6 months
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You have the target in range. Shoot.
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owlmam · 9 months
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Some doodles i made while watching ep5-6
Man, red flag for real, can’t handle it cus the twist so get me
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“Am I hurting people in other universes?”
Oh ye btw
Fionna, Winter King fans:
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urdepressedslut · 1 year
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You’re Mine, Sunshine ❝part three❞
♡ Pairing: Grumpy!Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Fem!Reader
♡ Summary: Bucky has a surprise meeting with Pierce, getting informed about your secret admire. Meanwhile, Bucky tries to keep things professional, he’s hesitant to cross the line when you need him.
♡ Warnings: language, fluff, angst, death threats, stalking, daddy issues, hints to anxiety, mentions of alcohol
Part 4
Trope ⇢ Grumpy x Sunshine | Mob!Au Bodyguard!Au
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It was the next day, early in the morning. You were still asleep while Bucky was downstairs moving in his stuff, with Steve’s help of course.
Steve was in charge of the perimeter guard team around your house, and found some free time to help his pal Bucky move in. He also was curious about you, never having met you face to face. But the stories he had heard from your Father— scared him.
Steve plopped down a bag at the front door, wiping some sweat off his brow.
“So Buck, what do you think so far?” Steve asked him, both of them chilling by the doorway.
Bucky shrugged, leaning himself against the frame.
“It’s fine. I’ve done this before an—”
“I meant, what do you think about her so far?” Steve corrected himself, and Bucky bit his lip— deep in thought.
“Shes fine.” Bucky answered shortly, and he could tell by Steve’s brows raising— that he wasn’t satisfied with his answer.
“C’mon Buck, give me more than that! Is she as bad as Pierce makes her out to be? Or worse?” Steve rambled on, while a bucky was getting annoyed.
“Ya know— she’s actually not bad at all. She’s pretty quiet, keeps to herself— extremely polite.” Bucky told him defensively, he didn’t know why but he felt the need to stick up for you.
He felt awful that you were made out to be this— monster. When you were far from it.
Steve gave him a ‘really?’ look and still wasn’t buying it.
“You’re not messing with me? The whole perimeter team is afraid of her because of bosses stories.” Steve pointed out.
Bucky huffed, clearly annoyed with Steve’s rambling.
“I’m serious.”
“Huh. Wonder why Pierce gives her one hell of a warning. Think she’s just pretending?” Steve persisted, causing Bucky to roll his eyes.
“Seriously Steve, I don’t have time to talk about her all day. I have a job to do.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll let ya be. Just let me know if there’s anything interesting that goes on.” Steve told him, making Bucky chuckle.
“Sure thing.” He responded sarcastically.
“Is she pretty?” Steve asked one last time, pausing his step to leave.
“Fucking hell— seriously?” Bucky scoffed, watching Steve walk down the stairs laughing.
He was glad he was walking away, that way he couldn’t see the blush that had dusted his cheeks at the thought of you. Well yeah— you were attractive. But it was strictly professional, and he’d never see you anything more than his mission. But with Steve’s words, he couldn’t help but think otherwise for a slight moment.
He closed the door, sliding all the locks in place— making sure it was safe and secure. As he was leaning down to grab his bag, he heard the tiny echoes of footsteps approaching.
“Good morning Mr. Barnes!”
Bucky turned to glance up the stairs, at the top was you— still in your pajamas. He hated to admit it to himself, but even just minutes after you’d woken up— your hair evidence. He still thought you looked pretty.
“Morning (Y/n).” He breathed out, hoping that his cheeks were back to a neutral color.
You smiled wider, loving it when he said your name. You wondered for a second why, but perhaps it was because you were so forgotten on a daily basis— no one ever seeking you out— speaking to you. It felt nice to be called, even if it was something as simple as ‘good morning’. You felt appreciated.
“Did you sleep okay?” You asked him, walking down the stairs to meet him.
He shrugged, not sure if he should tell you the truth. That he didn’t even sleep in the bed at all, instead making a makeshift bed on the floor.
“It was fine.” He lied.
You gave him a tight lipped smile, a knowing look that alerted him that you knew something.
“Really? I peeked into your room, looking for you and I saw blankets and a pillow on the floor. The bed didn’t look like it had been touched.” You said softly, being careful to not make him feel embarrassed.
His jaw was clenching, the thought of you going into his room looking for him. He wasn’t sure if the feeling was a bad one or good.
“Yes really, I slept fine.” He repeated, hoping that you’d be convinced somehow.
You giggled, making to the second to last step.
“Okay, whatever you say. You can always wake me up if you ever can’t sleep. Sometimes it’s good to talk to someone about what’s on your mind, so you can go to bed with a clear head.” You suggested.
He fought the smile down harder this time, your sweet demeanor almost infectious. Every time he saw you smile, it caused the corners of his mouth to twitch.
He nodded at your suggestion, deciding not to respond verbally.
“I’m going to make breakfast, would you like a plate? I’m assuming you haven’t eaten yet.” You asked him, fully down the stairs now standing in front of him.
It was only now that he could see the height difference, he was towering over you. You looked so tiny from his view— you looked adorable.
As he was about to decline your offer, his stomach growled— echoing through the main entrance. You laughed, clutching your own stomach. The tune of your laughter had his chest warm again. He forgot a time in his time where he was around so much laughter. He had missed it.
“I’ll go ahead and make you a plate and leave it in the fridge. You can decide if you want it now or later.” You told him, turning to walk away— towards the kitchen.
He felt very welcomed here. You were so inviting and sweet, he couldn’t help but want to break down his walls a bit.
“Thanks (Y/n).” He spoke out, causing you to turn.
“No need Mr. Barnes, I’d be happy to do it.” You assured him.
Bucky bit his lip for a moment before speaking out again.
“James.” He spoke out, watching your expression grow confused for a moment. “You can call me James.”
You sent him a smile, your own cheeks dusting pink.
“Okay James.” You tested out, and you couldn’t help the way it felt rolling off your tongue.
Bucky on the other hand, didn’t know he would like hearing you say his name so much. It was a name he didn’t let people use too often, but for some reason he allowed you to.
You turned and headed towards the kitchen, leaving Bucky alone with his thoughts. You were slowly wrapping him around your little finger. He hated it.
~
Later that day, Pierce had sent one of his men to your home. Informing Bucky that Pierce wanted to meet with him. He was still unsure why, but knew not to question the boss.
That’s where he found himself standing in Pierce’s office again, while you waited outside the office patiently. Bucky couldn’t help but feel bad when Pierce asked you to wait outside, not even sparing you a warm greeting or hug. It wasn’t very Fatherly of him.
“Mr. Barnes I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve called you in today,” Pierce started, walking around his desk, “We’ve received some… interesting photos recently. Thought you should take a look.”
Bucky furrowed his brows, grabbing the folder in Pierces outstretched hand— opening the file up to see many pictures of you. They were all from a far away perspective, all photos you were unaware were taken.
It seemed you had an admirer— more like stalker.
He pushed around the pictures, his eyes focusing on one photo in particular. You were sitting on a bench reading a book, with the words ‘she’d look so much prettier dead’ written in red across the image.
The message had Bucky’s stomach flipping, the looming threat that now rested over his head, over yours. It definitely wasn’t an admirer, more like someone trying to mess with you— to get to your Father.
“These were just dropped off here?” Bucky asked on edge.
“No, they were found by one of the perimeter guards near her house. I’m just glad we found it before she did.” He explained, rubbing his temples in stress.
“Are you going to tell her?” Bucky wondered.
“Hell no— her knowing would only make her a paranoid mess. For your sanity— it’s best she’s kept in the dark.” Pierce suggested, while Bucky wasn’t so sure that’d end well.
Bucky wanted to say something but chose otherwise, Pierce seemed to notice the judgement on his face.
“Listen, my men are handling this situation as best as they can. All I’m asking is for you to continue to do your job, and keep your mouth shut about this.” Pierce made himself clear, not giving Bucky a chance to speak— walking back around his desk to sit.
“Yes sir.” Bucky nodded, though he felt indifferent about the whole situation.
You were clearly in danger, and Bucky of course wasn’t doubting his ability to protect you— but he was more concerned about the lack of concern Pierce had for his daughter.
“That will be all.” Pierce dismissed him, sliding his glasses back on.
Bucky turned to walk out, and when the door opened, he wasn’t expecting you to barge in. His hands hovered over your arms, wondering if he even had the right to stop you from coming in.
“Hi Dad, I was wondering if we could talk.” You tried, shifting nervously on your feet in dread of his answer.
Bucky watched uncomfortably from the doorway, unsure if he should leave or not. Hesitantly, he stayed.
Pierce ripped off his glasses, rubbing his eyes in frustration.
“Who let you in?” He asked calmly, though he was far from it.
You took a deep breath, trying not to let your hurt show. You hadn’t even been in the room for a minute and he was already sick of you.
“I- I did.” You uttered out.
Bucky couldn’t help but notice how small you were trying to make yourself, how you were nervously fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.
Pierce scoffed, trying to focus on his papers— pretend that you weren’t there.
“Dad, I was wondering if you wanted to get dinner with me tonight? We could go to Sarah’s restaurant.” You asked him, biting your lip anxiously— waiting for his response.
Pierce glanced up, looking you over for a moment trying to come up with an answer.
“I have a lot of work that needs to be done (Y/n).” He breathed out, massaging his temples.
“It doesn’t have to be for long!” You argued, your heart beating faster— knowing deep down what his answer would be.
“I just can’t. Please understand that?” He pushed, his tone growing more aggravated.
You glanced behind you, sneaking a look at Bucky. He stood silently, pretending he wasn’t listening and merely watching over you— as it’s his job. But, he had heard everything and was quite invested into this conversation. On the other hand, you felt embarrassed that he was witnessing your Father letting you down.
Facing your Father again, you sent him a pleading look.
“Dad please… I miss you.” You whispered, hoping Bucky wouldn’t hear your pathetic voice.
He did.
Pierce looked at you, almost right through you. It was clear that your begging did nothing to convince him— that you solemn state didn’t concern him. He ran a hand through his gray hair, closing his eyes in thought.
“I’m sorry peanut, maybe another time.” He said so softly.
The words did nothing to comfort you, instead filling your body with frustration. It was funny that the only time he ever used that tone, or that nickname that you used to love— was when he was sending you away.
It almost felt like he was teasing you, jabbing at your inner child. Like things were supposed to be better, that letting you down wasn’t supposed to hurt as much because he was using the nickname. If anything, it only reopened the wound. The sweet tone like salt sinking into the wound. It forced you to remember a time where he had loved you. Past tense.
Blinking back the tears you felt approaching, you took a deep breath, giving him a fake smile.
“It’s okay, you’re right maybe some other time.” You lied to yourself, you knew this was an empty promise.
Pierce sent you a pitied look, and in a second focused back on his papers. Going back to ignoring your presence.
You couldn’t hold the tears back for much longer, and decided to leave the room calmly. Your goal to make it out of the building before the tears could fall.
You passed by Bucky without a word, not that he needed to ask where you were going— knowing he’d follow you. He watched as you pressed the elevator button, your leg bouncing in impatience. Your hurried movements were causing Bucky to frown in concern.
“(Y/n), are you alright?” He asked quietly, not trying to bring any attention on you.
You looked his way and nodded your head without a word— which was unlike you.
Before he could ask again, the door opened and you stepped in. Bucky stepped in behind you, pressing the ground floor. The elevator ride was filled with thick tension, an uncomfortable energy flowing throughout the small space.
Thankfully, the room dinged, and the doors opened for them to exit. Bucky was leading you to the car that was waiting for you by the curb. He hurried and opened the door for you, watching you slide in quickly.
He could sense your discomfort even as he shut the door and glanced at your figure through the tinted glass. He figured he’d get you home as quickly as he could, seeing as that’s what you wanted. Not a word had been spoken between the two of you, but it was almost like you knew the routine already.
Sliding into the drivers seat, he risked a glance in the rear view mirror— his heart aching at your dull expression. You were staring mindlessly at the headrest in front of you— lost in your thoughts.
He focused back in front of him, shifting the clutch until he was accelerating forward, heading home.
He wasn’t going to glance back again, that was until he heard a sniffle. Glancing up, he quickly regretted it. He frowned at the sight of your wet cheeks, watching you attempt to wipe them dry— but the tears kept coming.
He suddenly felt anger towards Pierce, the way he dismissed you like you weren’t his daughter— someone of importance. It saddened Bucky, your kindness doing you no favors.
He didn’t realize he was staring, until he felt your eyes on his. He focused through the mirror, holding your bloodshot eyes with pity.
You were looking at him with longing— for comfort that had always been pushed away from you. You didn’t know why you searched for it suddenly from him, maybe you were desperate. Yeah, that’s it.
“Just relax, I’ll let you know when we’re home.” Bucky said the only thing that came to mind, although there were thousands of things he probably, should’ve said.
You gave him a weak smile, one that had Bucky internally wincing. Hating the way it didn’t reach your eyes. Suddenly he missed your smile, your true smile.
With a nod, you rested your cheek against your hand against the window— letting the rumble of the car lull you to sleep. Bucky watched your eyes shut, and ever so slowly your expression shifted to something peaceful.
~
Bucky let his mind wander on the drive home, and he couldn't help his mind from wandering to you.
A part of him still didn't understand why you were so opposite from how Pierce described you. He had yet to make sense of it all. He was starting to come to terms with the idea that Pierce was just mean. Maybe he didn't give you enough time, maybe you had yet to show your true colors.
Arriving home, it wasn’t dark yet— but the sky had started to dim. He checked the mirror, not surprised to see you still asleep. He got out of the car, walked around to open your door. Thankfully, you had moved off the window during your slumber.
“(Y/n), we’re home.” He whispered, watching you mumble something, but otherwise stayed asleep.
He gently shook your arm, rocking your body just slightly in attempt to wake you.
“(Y/n)?” He tried again, this time louder.
You nodded your head like you had heard him, but still— your eyes remained closed. Bucky couldn’t help but shake his head with a light chuckle.
He wasn’t sure what had come over him. He blamed it on the fact that he felt bad, witnessing you getting turned down by your Father. But as he scooped you up in a bridle position, he couldn’t ignore the warmth spreading throughout him. You snuggled your face into his chest, letting his scent lull you into a deeper sleep. Bucky couldn’t fight down the butterflies that your gesture had caused.
He continued into the house, locking the door all with one hand before heading upstairs to your room. He should’ve been surprised at the elegancy of your room, but it seemed so you. He smirked at the space, all the little things scattered around the room that made it you.
Reminding himself he could ogle at your room another time, he set you down on the bed, his hand gently cradling the back of your head until it met the pillow. Instinctively, he got to work and started untying the laces on your shoes. Slipping them both off gently, before picking up your legs and placing them on the bed.
He lifted your body for a moment, pulling back the cover so you couldn’t slide under. Soon, you were snug and tucked under the blankets. Bucky gave you one last look— be told himself it was strictly for his job. But he found himself just wanting to look at you for a moment.
Letting his eyes fall from your face, he started to turn to leave. That was until your hand grabbed his, stopping him.
“James?” You mumbled sleepily.
He turned and looked at you, glancing at your hand holding his for a second.
“You’re okay, just carried you to bed.” He told you quietly, watching your eyes droop.
You let your mind brew a crazy idea. Stay with me. You wanted to tell him, you wanted to whisper those words so badly. He was the closest thing to comfort you had in so long, and you clung to it— to him so desperately. You didn’t want to scare him away, you couldn’t help yourself from coming on too strong. Besides, you thought it felt wrong to ask your bodyguard such a thing.
Instead of whispering the words that itched to come out, you released his hand— and let your eyes shut completely. Falling into a deep sleep, hoping that your dreams could be filled with comfort.
Bucky watched you let go, and melt back into the pillow. He waited as it looked like you had something to say. He wasn’t shocked when you fell back asleep, but he was more shocked at his sadness at your lack of words.
Without giving you another glance, he headed out of your room. Shutting the door softly, until he heard the click. He wasn’t sure what was up with him today, he blamed it on his pitied brain. He needed to remind himself that he was working, and he had no time to slack off. Rubbing a hand down his face, he exhaled loudly— heading downstairs in search of alcohol.
He hoped that he could drown out his distracting thoughts, needing a clear mind by tomorrow. He needed to stop his walls from crumbling around you.
TAGLIST: @winters1917 @unaxv @sebastianstansqueen @casa-boiardi @sonatabee @nytzirhk @almosttoopizza @erinallene @daddy-dotcom @h0nestly-though @beautiful-loserr @gloriouspurpose01 @lesleurs @justherefortheficandsmut @floralwsloki @dottirose @madi-be-buggin @navs-bhat @happinessinthebeing @ximi1315 @buggy14 @dancer3205 @neeezza101 @rovckwells @loki-is-loved @yujyujj @wolfstarrrr @distinguishedbluebirdtriumph @tatianah26 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @lethallyprotected @sadboiabby @ziatracy @doveromanoff @whattheduckisupkyle @buckysgirl85 @etherealdisneyvillainness @doctorlilo @torntaltos @raging-panda @livingoffsavvyillusions @lmao-liz @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @toriluvsfics @baconeggndcheez @nialiuwanderlust @nabiiturner @nickangel13 @queerqueenlynn @memyselfandi19 @mentalidrainedfangirl @wattpaduser200 @obsessedbutnotblessed @iris-shihabi @thecubanator2 @chloe-skywalker @oatballsoffury
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faunandfloraas · 22 days
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Seungmin for W Korea.
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tomatoart · 1 year
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to stay the same sad, sorry mother
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daddy-issues-galore · 1 month
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Confession - The older Sebastian Stan gets, the dirtier things I imagine him doing to me.
Long hair, sleckling if gray in his bears, looking THICC and wearing a suit? He can make me choke on his dick as he forces me to ride a dildo, whilst calling me a whore before fucking every whole repeatedly until I've forgotten my real name, only remembering that I'm 'Daddy's good girl'.
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analog-television · 23 days
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you know what it's only fitting i ask this
some clarifications on the options below cut 👇
calm sunny days can refer to both warm days and cool days - whichever you prefer (or if you're a fan of both).
i would rather foggy and overcast be separate, but i don't have enough poll options (sad!). however they are both rather moody. feel free to clarify if you only like one or the other though.
some cool looking clouds include: nacreous clouds, horseshoe clouds, lenticular clouds ... maybe even those bright colorful sunsets. point being you love a nice aesthetic clouds (i do too).
for tornadoes ill accept waterspouts (since -spouts are just a term for non-mesocyclone tornadoes). landspouts also exist. i dont think dust devils (and other -devils) really count here, as even though they are vortexes they're not considered to be tornadoes.
severe thunderstorm warning stuff can refer to: hail, strong winds (such as those formed by derechos), and mesocyclones which don't spawn tornadoes but look cool anyway.
space weather is. technically meteorological as well. i also just learned that there are things known as space tornadoes??? there are also space hurricanes. both can spawn auroras. if your favorite weather occurs on a different planet you can vote here as well. :)
forgive me if i missed your favorite weather, there's quite A Lot that can occur in the skies and its challenging including everything. :') i admittedly couldn't really squeeze in rainbows anywhere, despite really liking them.
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yourgirlfoe · 11 months
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hold me hostage, hold me accountable, hold me down, just hold me for fucks sake.
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traitofsleep · 4 months
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yes, the books i read are incredibly serious
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ghouljams · 11 months
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Last night I had a dream that fae!Price’s darling was a witchy gal, her grandmother taught her about the fae when she was young. I’m talking warded up house, always carrying iron and salt, candles herbs and crystals the whole nine yards. They met in the flower shop after she got a weird vibe, looked through a hagstone and Saw him. He showed up in her garden and she gave him mead she made to make up for her rudeness. She will do small acts of kindness but specify that they are “freely given” to avoid tethering. I was reading your blog right before bed lol. I like the idea of debt holder Price and a (from a fae perspective) slippery darling that he just can’t catch unless she wants to be caught
*Holding the grimoire I wrote as a senior capstone in College* Oh you want witch shit? I can give you witch shit. Let's keep trying out Price's darlings, the only thing I require for her is that she have the most knowledge of the fae because she's dealing with the big kid one. (Here's where I mention that I also have a potential witch darling for Gaz so keep that in mind)
He's been hanging around your garden, just by your back gate, right where your grandmother planted rosemary so many years ago. You greet him every time you pass by, careful never to reach over the brick wall that separates you. He's friendly, but you're not so easily fooled.
"Good morning," you smile at him, watering the herbs on your side of the fence. He leans against the brick to watch you. Eyes heavy as they slide over you, tracing the sway of your skirt where it skims your thighs.
"How's my pretty witch doing today?" He asks voice thick and promising. He's just as careful to avoid your iron watering can as you are to keep it from splashing him. You find the residual warding properties tend to soak into the water. Your family has always maintained a strong threshold for the home.
"Better seeing you," you joke, returning the compliment as easily as can be. You never miss the heat in his eyes, the danger just below his friendly facade.
"I brought you something."
"That's very kind of you," you tell him, "I think the tomatoes are ripe, I'll send you off with some for the trouble."
"No trouble, I wanted to bring it."
"Oh but I couldn't accept a gift without repaying you, it would be rude of me."
"Repay me later," he growls, and you smile a little wider. You like this dance, you've never had a fae try so hard to get their hooks in you. You set down your watering can and lean against the brick across from him. Your weight resting on your elbows, the threshold humming between you.
"But I can repay you now."
"It's a gift."
"Gifts have strings."
"Then it isn't a gift," he says, mirroring your posture.
"Then what is it?" You ask, his eyes flick to your chest, appreciative, wanting. His confidence is charming, or it would be if you were the sort of person to take the fae at face value.
"A name," Your smile drops, your heart jumping up your throat. He must see the panic in your eyes because his smile widens. "Not to keep, just... to call me when we talk." Your pulse tries to slow from the impact of panic. He did that on purpose, you try not to look too rattled by this. You try to think of an appropriate repayment.
"I can't tell you mine."
"I know." He purrs, pleased with himself for catching you in your own defenses. You feel a chill graze your skin through the threshold, the edge of Winter. He knows exactly the corner he's backing you into. He gives you time to think through your options, to panic at the weight of his offer.
"I don't-"
"I know." He pushes, tapping against the solid line between you. You've never had the sight, but you can feel his magic collide with yours as he hits the threshold. You toy with the hagstone on your necklace, the worn stone warm from your skin under your fingers. "Witch," he warns.
"I'm still thinking."
"Think as long as you want," He leans closer, "but call me Price while you do."
Your heart stops, your thoughts grinding to a halt as well. Price. It fits him. You feel the silver thread searching for purchase in your soul, and break one of your long standing rules.
You lean over the threshold and kiss him. Because you know he wants to have some part of you, and you know he wants you on the wrong side of the fence. The thread breaks as his hand slides to cup your cheek, tipping your head as his lips slide against yours. It's your first one, and you think it's worth the price of his name.
His beard sort of tickles but his lips are soft and insistent, and you lean a little further over the wall to stay close. His hands are entreating, coaxing you further across the threshold. His teeth dig into your lip and you open for him, let him drag his tongue against yours as his fingers thread through your hair. You feel your feet leave the ground, the brick digging into your hands as you put your weight on them. The pain is enough to bring you back to your senses. You don't know what would happen if you let him take you.
Price sighs as you pull away and settle back on your side of the wall. He feels a thread hook in him. You've overpaid. He values your touch more than you apparently did, how fortunate for him. And unfortunate for you.
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