feverinfeveroutfic

[feverinfeveroutfic]

i have seven mermay drawings left to sketch out (i’m putting a lot of work into these this year 😅), and once they’re completed, i’ll post a new chapter. i’m kinda itching to write at this point 🔥❤️‍🔥

[feverinfeveroutfic]

”deer in the headlights”

The whole entire thing with the werewolves left me far more shook than anything that the vampires had done before Abby and me. And I knew that it mainly had to do with the fact that my little encounter with Alex in the graveyard was as short as it was. Short and sweet and yet incredibly worth it. I felt like a changed woman.

But I knew those wolves were still out there somewhere, ready to take him out and take him under.

We were bribed and thus, I knew that it could no longer work for them. That was my hope, anyway. But they could plan it out, which meant I had to think ahead.

I knew for a fact that I could lose my vampire boyfriend come the morning light, and so, I had to act.

I knew that there had to be something special that I could do for him the next time I saw him, something that I could wear even though most of my wardrobe was nothing to write home about.

I had some money in my pocket for at the very least a new shirt, but I had the idea to go a step further with it.

There was a lingerie shop not too far from the house, and I could take the bus by myself right when it opened. It was such a crazy idea to begin with because I had never gone shopping for lingerie before and as a result, I had no idea as to what to look for. But I had climbed out of bed at around six, and I woke up to an empty house as Abby had spent the night with Mark.

Absolutely no one around to pester me with questions as I whipped up a pot of coffee and a plate of toast for myself. All the while, I wondered as to what I could browse around for once I set foot inside of that little shop. Something lacy and light, and maybe in either black or white to catch his attention from clear across the room. But I drew a blank after that as I stirred the cream into my coffee and took a bite of the toast with apricot jam.

The morning was cold and damp, complete with the thick veil of San Francisco fog collected around the hillsides and the spires of the Golden Gate Bridge off in the distance. I knew that it was cold enough to warrant wanting to snuggle up next to him in my brand new lingerie, and I chuckled to myself when I thought about doing just that after this little trip here.

It was a small place, tucked right next door to an adult bookstore and what appeared to be an old bank, shuttered down and left dark with the morning hours. The red and blue neon sign in the front window greeted me as I opened the glass door and stepped inside.

It felt like I had been hit with a tidal wave as I had been met with the sight of everything on display. Though it wasn’t very warm in there, my face flushed from the feeling and the sight before me. 

Maybe I was overreacting. 

I posted up to the side of the room and bowed my head a bit so I wouldn’t see anything in there. I breathed through my lips so as to steady myself. None of it could hurt me like how the werewolves could possibly do unto me.

I gathered myself and walked on to the racks right by the wall, to the rows of lacy bodysuits, teddies, corsets, and bras and panties: they were all black and white, just what I was looking for. My hand trembled as I picked out a lacy white corset.

I grimaced at the sight of it. No way I could pull that off at any time whatsoever, and even more so as I held it before me and pictured myself in it.

I needed a new bra, but not like that and not at that price, either. And I thought about something sheer and lacy, so I immediately ruled out one of the teddies.

It wasn’t until I found a bodysuit of black lace and of my size with a slit down the front and a small opening between the legs when I considered it. I took it to the dressing room to try it on, and it fit like a glove. I thought about calling him up to come on over just to surprise him with it. I still looked on at my body as if I had just done something totally drastic.

It was worth the shot. I bought it with my money and kept the bright pink paper bag tucked under my arm, away from the prying eyes of the world. I had just bought some lingerie for myself as well as for the vampire whom I loved.

When I returned home, I was still alone in the house, which gave me the perfect chance to call up Alex and ask him to come on over. I set down that pink bag as well as my purse right next to my bunk bed as I fetched the cordless phone. All the while, I thought about how I was going to surprise him with it.

There had only been one other time I had called him at the house of Skolnick as he usually visited right as I was thinking of him, but I dialed his number, albeit gingerly. It rang once, twice, and then four time before it reached the machine. A loud beep, and then—

“Hey, Alex, it’s Lily. I was wondering if you’d like to come on over some time today and hang out for a bit. Give me a ring as soon as you get this, please and thank you.”

I pressed the red button and put the phone back in the holster. A part of me didn’t care if anyone came home and the phone rang and picked up to hear his voice, but I also wondered about that tidbit. Like, dear god, Lily’s having sex with some strange boy under our roof!

I shook my head at myself as I made my way back upstairs and searched for my big long raincoat. Though the rainy season had started, I kept it near the back of the closet.

I took it out of hiding and hung it up on the edge of the top bunk bed as I changed out of my clothes into that bodysuit, that time without any underwear on underneath. The lace hugged my body better, especially at my hips and thighs, and the slit down in the front of my body reached the top of my belly button. It caressed over my nipples, and to the point of almost tickling me no less. I took the coat off the hanger and wrapped it around my body right as I caught the sound of a tap on my window.

I turned and looked to see him on the other side of the windowpane. I recognized his black curls and steely eyes on the other side, and more so when he waved at me. I fastened the top two hooks before I lunged over there and opened the window for him.

“That was fast!” I declared.

“I don’t fuck around, dearest Lilian,” Alex replied, and he kissed me on the side of the face. “Especially when the wolves are coming for you as we speak, so…” I stepped back to let him in, and all the while, I tugged on the coat to keep it closed. He closed and locked the window once again and ran his fingers through his hair; his gray streak seemed a lot brighter than usual, as if it was made of pearl. I kept the coat wrapped snugly around my body as he strode on over to the doorway to ensure it was locked, and then he turned around to face me: those eyes were big and bright, a perfect blue like that of the sky following the fog bank.

“The window’s closed now, and you know there’s no need to cover up for me, either,” he pointed out in a soft voice.

“I just… got a chill,” I confessed to him. He then shook his head.

“No,” he replied.

“No?”

“I know you, Lilian, this isn’t like you.”

I swallowed and held still. For a split second, I forgot I was wearing the bodysuit, and more so as he slowly neared me. I stepped on over to my bed and took a seat on the edge of the mattress.

“What gives?” he asked me again with a chuckle. “Why are you all bundled up like this?”

He then lunged for me, to which I lay down on my back on the bed.

“Lilian—Lilian, you can’t hide from me—”

“You’re right, I can’t hide from you.” I opened my jacket and revealed my bodysuit to him. He held back and raised his eyebrows at me.

“Whoa.” I lay there before him with the lace covering my nipples and the neckline extended all the way down to my waist. I brought my hands to my chest, right above my breasts, so he could see everything that I had to offer.

“What do you think?” I asked him, to which he swallowed, and I could see him breathing harder.

“I think I had no idea what I was missing the first time.” He ran his fingers through his black hair and showed me a little smirk. His eyes darkened with passion. His cherry lips parted ever so slightly as if he beckoned a kiss from me.

“There he is,” I whispered. “There’s no crotch on this, either.”

“Excellent, excellent…” He lowered his otherwise warm, soft voice to that thick, throaty tone, and I knew what he was thinking.

He ran the tips of two of his long, spindly fingers down the bare sliver of skin on my chest, at least to the top of my stomach, and then slowly, he bowed his head and lightly kissed me right between my breasts. His coarse hair tickled my skin, and it was enough to bring a thought to my mind.

“I want you to blow on my nipples,” I whispered to him.

“With the lace on or off?” he asked me in that husky voice.

“On, then off.”

He lifted his head and lightly blew on my left nipple first. His breath was cold and delicate, as icy as the breeze outside, and it sent a shiver up my spine. He smirked again, that time with a rich shadow over his face, and he moved over to my right nipple. Another shiver up my spine and, very carefully, he nudged the lace off my breasts, left, followed by the right. I lay there fully exposed to him.

“This is how we do,” he whispered to me with a slow lick of his lips. He blew on my left nipple again, and that time, I could seriously feel the cold that emanated from his body. I shifted my legs underneath him. I could feel myself growing moist from the feeling. He was tormenting me, and he loved every second of it.

“Come on! Where are you!”

“That them?” I choked out.

“The wolfies will have to wait,” he promised me as he bowed his head and ran his tongue around the rim of my nipple. He held me still underneath his one hand even as I started to buck my hips. I tilted my head back and breathed harder. Out of the corner of my eye, all I could see was the crown of his head right under my chin. Those lacy, curly ringlets. That plume of silver right under my chin.

He was having his starter but I was about ready to give him the main course as I ran my fingers through his hair, mainly through his gray streak. It was like a little cloud just before it rained, a beckoning of sorts that the water was about to rush over us, over me. I could see the scarring on his head, the deep mortal wound that killed him and left him to become the undead beauty that he had become right before my eyes.

Alex lifted his head again, that time to show me his closed eyes and the sweet little smile on his face. I put my hands on either side of his face for a hearty kiss on those smooth lips. He put his hands on either side of my body: I could feel him caressing over the lace on my back. Though he had taken off the lace on my breasts, he was still mindful of my lingerie. I did spend money on it after all.

“You beautiful boy,” I whispered to him. “Beautiful and dangerous.”

“You know it,” he whispered back to me.

“Come on! Where are you!” The wolves outside were agitated, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to be with him for as long as I could.

“Let me stay here tonight,” he whispered to me.

“Of course, baby,” I breathed to him. He ran his hands down the shape of my body towards my hips and the space between. I did my best to hold still as he slipped one finger in between my lips, but I couldn’t do it. I locked eyes with him as he touched the head of my clit with the very tip of his finger. All it took with me was a couple of swipes from him and his cold flesh.

Indeed, I breathed harder. He was going to make me come again, even with the wolves outside, even with the wolves on our tail once again.

I closed my eyes and let out a soft moan. They didn’t need to hear me.

“I should wear something like this,” he told me.

“You would look so hot in lingerie,” I whispered to him as I gave him another light kiss on the lips, and that he shivered from the feeling.

#kinktober #kinktober list #kinktober prompts #kinktober 2024 #kinktober all year #fanfic #fanfiction #testament #testament fanfic #testament band #alex skolnick #oc tag #eerie inhabitants fanfic #eerie inhabitants #vampires #vampire au #vampire #smut warning #smut writing #also on ao3 #writing #text

[feverinfeveroutfic]

got so caught up in my own bullshit this weekend (plus, i’ve been swamped with mermay drawings among other things) that i completely forgot to post a kinktober one shot! i’ll make it up to you guys ❤️‍🔥

#a passover special dare i say

[feverinfeveroutfic]

Dark Roots of Earth | Chapter Twelve: Kisses Don’t Lie

ao3 link

Though Valentina had gone back home in a haste, Chuck and Eric lingered back in the apartment for a bit longer than usual just in time for Christine to whip up a round of breakfast for the three of them. Eric had offered to help her, but the only thing he could make up for her was the toast to go amongst all the three of them.

She could scarcely eat up her scrambled eggs, however, given she kept on thinking about Alex and meeting him over at his place for the day. But at the same time, she knew that she had to eat something lest she be hungry all day long. She thought about the dream she had had the night before, and she wondered if she could run it by him when she saw him later on. Chuck meanwhile sipped on his coffee and showed her a little smile from behind his mug.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Christine asked him as she munched on her piece of wheat toast with apricot jam on the top.

“I’ll raise you two pennies for two of your thoughts,” he retorted, to which Eric snickered.

“What’s the catch?” she asked him.

“The catch is you and I do something together sometime this summer,” Chuck said.

“I dunno, man, she’s been chillin’ with ol’ Mr. Skolnick lately,” Eric retorted in a singsong voice.

“Well, yeah, I know that,” Chuck scoffed. “But I kinda want the same thing that you and her have, though.”

“Hang out and be buddies and stuff?” Christine asked him.

“Exactly, yeah!”

“Okay, um… what would you like to do together?”

“I wanna take you to dinner and a show,” Chuck declared.

“Dinner?” Eric demanded, taken aback.

“You and I went to dinner every night we were in Monterey,” she pointed out as she took another bite of toast.

“Yeah, but we were in California, though,” he insisted. “It’s different back here in the Big Apple.”

Chuck and Christine glanced at one another.

“Eric, this is the city that never sleeps,” she pointed out. “People here don’t give a shit about what you and I do together, or what me and him do together.” She sipped on the rest of her coffee and wiped her mouth with a napkin.

“Anyways, I gotta meet Alex today,” she informed them as she picked up her plate and took it to the sink. Chuck offered to do the same for himself and for Eric as well, the latter of whom had a rather wounded look upon his face. Christine watched him out of the corner of her eye as she rinsed off their plates under the faucet, and she wondered as to what was going through his mind right then. It reminded her of a time when another boy had his eye on her and Chris was standing off to the side with a similar look upon his face. She dared not dwell on such a memory as that time had long gone behind her, and Eric was totally different by comparison, but it still flashed through her mind like a flicker of light at the start of a thunderstorm.

The two of them still gave her a hug as well, and by the time she was alone again in the apartment, Christine ventured back to her bedroom and changed her clothes. She knew that it was going to be a rather warm day that day, and thus, she wore that low-cut white top and matching choker that Alex had given her right before she left for California. Quickly, she ran a hairbrush through her hair and fixed it up into the taut ponytail at the back of her head: the very tips of her hair brushed against the small of her back, and she knew that it was time for a trim lest the split ends make their return.

She gave her neck a quick swipe of the perfume that smelled of cherry blossoms, and then she hoisted her purse over her shoulder. As she made her way out to the hallway and locked the door, she thought about Eric’s behavior back there.

Maybe that trip out to Monterey had done something to him, and something that he hadn’t the courage to talk about, either. She flashed back on the kiss that he had given her, and she wondered if there could be something there should the whole thing with Alex not work out at all.

But she loved Alex. She was in love with him, and she knew that in her heart, she could love him more and love him better than Captain Howdy ever could. 

Captain Howdy did not love him at all, as far as she knew. But she wondered if there could be room in her heart for two guys as she strode out to the sunshine and the bus stop. The warm sun washed over her and remained with the warmth over her as she rode on down to his neighborhood, the street lined with all of the trees, which had long bloomed with the fresh green leaves of spring and summer and gave the entire neighborhood a cool blanket against the hot days upon New York City.

Through a gap in the canopy, the sun shone down on the crown of Alex’s head, and Christine could see his plume of gray from right down the street as a result. He peeked over his sunglasses at her: it made her think that he was watching her like a movie star.

“Peek-a-boo,” she told him as she came within earshot. Her eyes wandered down to his long toned legs, accentuated by his black shorts and fitted shirt.

“There’s that girl,” he sang out as if he was up on Broadway. His warm, rounded voice echoed over the sidewalk and she knew that he had been teaching himself how to carry his tune better. “There’s that girl, there’s that girl…” Christine strode up to him and kissed him on the neck and then on his cherry lips, the latter of which she held onto as if her life depended on it. 

Alex held back a bit and ran his fingers through his soft black hair: the gray streak shone under the sun as if it really was made of silver.

“Where did that come from?” he asked her with that lopsided smile on his handsome face.

“I just… wanted to feel you for a bit longer,” she confessed with a slight shrug of her shoulders.

“You know, it’s the damnedest thing: I was feeling the same way just last night. I really wanted to hang up and go over to your place.”

“You wouldn’t’ve liked it,” she said. “We had loud music going, all kinds of coolers flowing, someone called the cops, it was this whole big scene.” He treated her to that soft chuckle of his.

“Wanna go down to Coney Island?” he offered her with another run of his fingers through his hair.

“Oh, baby, you know it.” She lovingly patted the side of his face and kissed him again, that time with a slight raise onto her toes to reach him. She then held onto his hand, and the two of them walked together to his car parked right near the corner. When he let go of her hand, he took his keys out of his front pocket and let his sunglasses slide down the bride of his nose.

“You look really sexy, by the way,” she told him as her eyes wandered from his chest all the way down to his feet. “Showing off your skin and your curves like this.”

“If I have curves, what do you have?” he joked as he unlocked the car.

“More of curves?” she replied with a bit of reluctance, and he burst out laughing at that.

They both climbed into the car in unison and, once he fired it up, she was met with the soft crooning of Karen Carpenter on his radio.

“Man, you never hear the Carpenters anymore,” he remarked as he switched up the volume dial. Christine rolled down the window and let the warm summer air sweep over her.

She thought about the last summer Chris was alive, and one day while on the way to his house, she had the window down and her hand out the window to feel the breeze through her fingers. She did just that, much to Alex’s pleasure. In one small corner of her mind, she refused to believe that Chris was gone, that it was all some terrible joke and he had faked his death and was currently living under the boardwalk down at Coney Island, or out in the woods in the middle of Central Park. But she had left him behind in the past along with the memory of Ann and the memory of the time before Alex, and now she looked on at the big Ferris wheel once he turned the corner.

It was a warm summer day and yet there weren’t many people there; luckily for them, Alex took the spot due across the street from the parking lot. 

Once he had locked the door and tucked his keys into his front pocket once again, she snuck up behind him and reached into his back pocket. She flexed her fingers inside of his pocket, which in turn made him flinch a bit.

“Hey, watch it,” he teased her. She did it again, and that time, he flinched forward and clutched at himself.

“God, you’re frisky today,” he joked.

“It’s what happens when you call me late at night and I wake up thinking about you,” she replied in a single breath. “I’m wanting to touch you.”

He peeked over his sunglasses at her again, that time with a playful little smirk on his face.

“I was also wanting to hear your voice, too,” she added, and he raised his eyebrows at that.

“You know, truth be known, I feel that way sometimes, too,” he confessed as they were met with the unmistakable smell of French fries, followed by popcorn.

“We need to have some fun,” she whispered right into his ear.

“We’re about to go into Coney Island!” he insisted. “Of course we’re going to have some fun.”

“No, no, I mean…” She lightly kissed the side of his neck, which in turn made him gasp and shiver. She held back to find him raising his eyebrows at her. “Let’s have some fun.”

“Oh, I see,” he breathed, and he showed her a playful little smile at that. “Well, first things first, let us play with the little island we have here.”

It reminded her of the time that he took her there before the rainstorm fell down over them, except this time, the sun shone down on them in the form of another shower. She held his hand, even when he had his free hand upon one of those old brown cream soda bottles with a straw out the spout. His black hair seemed to flow against the warm sea breeze, and she had her chest out in the open. There was a little stuffed sock monkey, bright green, the same color as the bushels of cotton candy off to the side, over by the balloon wall that caught her eye.

She grinned to herself when she convinced him of it. She knew that he was more than willing to spend money on her, money on her rather than Captain Howdy: he was spending enough on her, what with the wedding and everything.

Alex held the dart next to his head and chucked it to the first balloon right smack in the middle of the board. It popped so loud that it caught her off guard.

“That’s how we do it!” he declared with a chuckle. The second dart hit the one slightly to his left, and the third took the one slightly on his right.

“We’ll take the green monkey,” Christine declared to the kid behind the counter; he handed it over to Alex, who scritched the crown of its head as if it was real.

“For you, my love,” he told her as he handed her the monkey, to which she took and cradled in her arms as if it was made of gold.

“Shall we go down to the beach?” he suggested as he took a sip from his soda bottle.

“Please,” she quipped, and she held the monkey in one arm so she could hold hands with him again.

They walked side by side down towards the boardwalk and the panoramic view of the beach and the ocean. The aged wood of the walkway felt warm underneath their feet, and it radiated against their interlocked hands.

Like the sun was blessing the forbidden love between the two of them.

They passed by the bathrooms, and he held back a bit from her.

“Okay, but… um… before you and I get busy down here, I have to use the little boys’ room,” he told her, and he swiped her lips with a hearty kiss, the hardest one yet complete with a wave of sea spray cast over their heads.

“I’ll be right here,” she promised him with a wink, and she held onto his soda bottle with one hand. Christine watched Alex go in through the blue door on the left side, and she lingered back with the monkey in her arms. She pressed it up against her chest like she would a textbook, and she leaned against the brick wall due across from the doors.

She spotted something out of the corner of her eye, and she turned her head and looked up the boards to the spot on the wall, way out of earshot from her. She recognized that feathery blonde hair, now made golden by the summer sun, and she recognized her father anywhere.

Her eyes wandered to the water fountain right across from them, and she knew that short straight black hair anywhere as well.

Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of them, and she blindly ducked into the men’s room so she was close to Alex. The men’s room was small and bright, and smelled of fresh lemons as if they had just cleaned in there. Indeed, the smooth powder blue tiles under her feet shone under the fluorescent lights as if they were brand new. She caught the sound of something hitting the porcelain in one of the stalls, followed by a low thud.

“Whoa, ow!”

Christine rounded the corner and stood before the one door that had been closed.

“You okay in there?” she asked him through the door.

“I fell off the toilet.” He grunted out a bit as he picked himself up off the floor. “Not the first time that’s happened, though. And at least it’s clean in here, too.”

“Yeah, it actually smells really clean in here,” she remarked as she kept her folded arms up to her chest.

“Besides, this is the men’s room—you know you’re not supposed to be in here,” he told her; she could see his feet under the bottom of the door.

“I don’t care,” she confessed to him.

“I should’ve known,” he teased her with a chuckle. Christine held back against the wall with the monkey pressed right up against her chest. Even though she was in the men’s room, she didn’t mind standing there waiting for him, and she knew she was comfortable with him. The sound of his voice and his presence in the stall before her made her momentarily forget why she came in there in the first place.

“I saw Nelly and my dad down the boardwalk,” she told him right as he shifted his feet on the clean tile floor.

“And that’s why you’re in here?” he asked her, dumbfounded.

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“That’s kind of an odd pairing to think about,” he confessed with a slight strain to his voice. “You sure it was them?”

“I know my dad from anywhere and I’m ninety-nine percent sure that was Nelly he was talking to.”

“Not sure why you’d run in here with that in mind, though,” he confessed.

“I also saw your fiancée out there, too.”

There was a brief pause behind the stall door. “Shit. Ah, shit.” He fetched up a sigh. “What was going on?”

“I don’t know. My dad and Nelly were talking to each other, and she had her back turned to them so she probably had nothing to do with it. It’s still disconcerting to see, though.”

“Yeah, I’ll say. So much for Nelly being a friend to us, too. At least I lie for you, Christine.” He then stood up and she heard him pull up his shorts. He then flushed and opened the door at the same time, and he greeted her with a nervous look on his face and his sunglasses perched upon his head.

“Looks like we’re going to have our work cut out for us, my dear,” he confessed to her.

“No doubt about that.”

“Let me wash my hands and then I’ll take a look out there…”

Christine held off to the side of the faucets as he scrubbed his hands with the soft soap right next to him.

“I love how you aren’t offended by my odor, either,” he confessed to her with a glimpse up to the mirror.

“I actually don’t even notice it,” she told him with a shrug of her shoulders. “It’s just a part of life, anyway.”

“Exactly!” he replied as he switched off the water. He took a few paper towels from the dispenser on the wall and dried off his long and lanky hands.

“Oh, good, you still held onto my soda!” he declared as she handed it to him and his free, dry hand. He took another sip from the straw and then shook his head about.

“Okay, now, let’s see what’s going on out there,” he said as he opened the door with the paper towel. They were greeted by the ocean breeze and the warmth of the sun, but Christine thought of lingering back away from there lest one of them look in their direction. Alex peered off to the right, and then to the left. He held still and she knew they were still there.

“Oh, god, that is my fiancée,” he muttered as he put his sunglasses back on. “And it looks like that is Nelly, too.”

“What do you think we should do?” Christine asked him. Alex didn’t say anything as he tossed the paper towels into the trash can by the door, and then he took her by the hand and led her away from there. She daren’t glance back, and she knew that they would be safe in the furthest stretch of beach from there.

#dark roots of earth #dark roots of earth fanfic #as the seasons grey #as the seasons grey fanfic #fanfic #art tag #😂🥵❤️‍🔥

[feverinfeveroutfic]

blood & chocolate

chapter twenty-nine: i feel the dark

The next thing I knew, I woke up to the feeling of something soft in my hands. Something soft in my hands, and something warm and tender pressed up against my body, complete with the smell of something soapy and fresh right up against the tip of my nose. I pulsed my fingers against his flesh, and I smiled at the feeling inside of my palms, and I thought of kissing him on the side of the neck just to fully relish in the feeling before me. He was so soft and tender, like I had made a batch of good biscuits, all straight out of the oven.

All I felt like doing was spooning his little body. To hold him and feel him all night long.

But then again, I started to think about his pleasure, the way that he was feeling laying there before me and in my arms. I needed to know how he would feel if I gave him what he hungered for with me.

Alex shifted his weight a bit, and I subsequently loosened my grip on him. He rolled over onto his back, and I moved my hand down to the waist of his underwear. Loose locks of his black hair spread over the side of his face and neck: with his eyes still closed, he really looked like a young boy again.

At some point during our time there in the safety of my bedroom, he had taken off his pants and showed me his snug little shorts in all of their pearlescent white glory. His legs were long and lanky, and his sinewy thighs had not a single hair to be found on them. Perfect for kisses once we got things going again.

So long and thin, so delicate, and so toned as well. I couldn’t stop thinking about his thighs even as I closed my eyes again and kept my arms around his waist. I kept my body pressed against his as well: no way I was going to let this gorgeous boy go away from me. I gently rubbed the side of my face against the inside of his hair to take in the soft, soapy musk at the roots of his coarse jet-black hair.

I wanted nothing more than to drink him down. Give him some more weight just to hold onto his body a while longer and then I could drink him in like I was parched and dry, so thirsty from traversing across the desert. I was thirsty. I was thirsty and hungry. I nuzzled his hair some more, and I slithered my fingers over his waist. I ran my fingertip around the rim of his belly button. Oh, to make him all the food he could ever possibly wish for and watch him gain more weight. For him to gain weight and grow even softer with the feeling.

Still keeping his eyes closed, Alex rolled his head over the top of the pillow, and for a second, I swore that he would wake up and see me looking over him. I began thinking ahead in all of this, and more so when I wondered if Dave was still out there in the front porch.

What would happen if Alex and I found each other some ten years before in particular.

I lightly ran my fingers down the crest of his hipbone and onto the top of his thigh: where his belly was soft and plush as a pillow, his thighs were toned and sinewy. He cracked a smile and snickered from the feeling: I tickled the top of his skin, and he kicked his legs a bit. I licked my lips as I held both hands over the tops of his thighs.

“Mmm… cut it out, you guys,” he giggled, and I tickled him with both hands over his little belly, and at that point, he jolted himself awake and threw himself against my body. His eyes were big and his cherry lips had parted enough to where I could readily kiss him if I wanted to.

“I couldn’t resist tickling you,” I confessed.

“I can see that,” he whispered to me, and he swallowed hard. That beautiful Adam’s apple on his throat.

Alex slithered off of me and back onto the side of the bed right next to me. He then sat up and ran his long, spidery fingers through his black hair. He shook his head and gazed on back at me with a pensive look upon his face.

“So… do we wanna get the weed?” I asked him as I propped my head up in my palm.

“Yeah. But I kind of want to stay here, though. I don’t really feel like going out and nabbing some bud for us at the moment.”

He then lay back down next to me with his hands folded over his chest and his stomach, the latter of which rose up a bit from underneath his shirt.

“You are getting so soft,” I told him.

“And I’m about to get even softer.” He put his hands underneath his head, and the bottom hem of his shirt lifted up to show me some of his skin and the fine line of hair that ran down from his belly button to the top of the hem of his shorts. I licked my lips and moved my head in closer to his face as if to entice him with some kisses. But I never did. Instead, I teased him with the suggestion that I was about to do that for him.

He hooded his eyes at me, and in turn, he showed me a sweet little smile. He moved one hand down from his head and rested it on the upper part of his stomach. Our eyes locked, but out of the corner of my eye, I watched him run his hand down to the waist of his shorts and ultimately, that bare exposed skin. Our eyes were locked, and yet, I knew what he was doing right then in teasing me.

He showed me his tongue, and his eyes darkened at the feeling. If only I could see in what he was seeing with me right then: I would probably do the same thing that he was doing.

“I don’t want to leave this bed, if I’m honest,” he confessed; his voice drifted down into that low and husky tone once again, and that time it sounded as though he was in fact seducing me. “I really don’t want to leave this room, either. Let’s stay here forever.”

“But if we stay here, we can’t get more food,” I pointed out. “We can’t get more food and you would lose your belly.”

“True, true,” he replied as he slowly caressed the very tips of his fingers over the roundest part of his belly: his waist was thick and full, and my fingers tingled at the thought of his soft skin there. I pursed my lips as I strove not to look down there. I needn’t look at that beautiful skin and let him win the tease. I was more drawn to those bright blue eyes of his, anyway, the way they burned themselves right into my mind like the cherries of cigarettes, much like how I wanted to swipe those cherry lips of his with the touch of my own.

But out of the corner of my eye, I noticed his stroking his own skin at such a slow, deliberate pace and with nothing more than the tips of his fingers. I thought about putting my head down there just to kiss him on that soft skin. Kiss him there and undo his pants to bring on a good old-fashioned little blowie. I knew he had a great appetite residing within him: it was just coaxing it out into the open.

“I have a question,” he started again, that time with a clearing of his throat.

“Go ahead,” I coaxed him.

“Why can’t I rub your belly?” he asked me with a playful little smirk.

“Mine?” I sputtered out, slightly taken aback. He finally let go of my gaze and let those eyes of his sweep down to the rest of my body. He showed me the tip of his tongue once again, that time at the edges of his teeth.

“Yeah, you’ve got this… soft pillow here, almost like that of a big round teddy bear of sorts.” His gaze never left my body. “I kind of want to give you some touches and some lovin’, too.” Those luminous, deep eyes swept up to my face as if he was enticing me. A shiver ran up my spine, and my fingertips tingled at the thought of touching him some more.

“I kind of… want to kiss you on the belly,” he continued. “You know, give you the same sweet caresses that you give unto me.”

“You are just so irresistible,” I remarked. He hooded his eyes as he examined the crest of my collar bones and the sides of my neck. I wished I knew what he was thinking. I especially wished I knew what he was thinking when he moved his fingers down to the waist of his shorts. No way he could do that in front of me.

“The shorts are coming off,” he breathed out to me.

“The shorts are staying on until I say so,” I commanded to him, also in a low tone of voice. He inched closer to me, and not once did he take his hand off his body, either. I finally put my arm around his body and held him even closer to me: as soft as ever.

“God, I love to cuddle,” I whispered into his ear.

“I love to cuddle and I love to feel,” he retorted back to me.

“You like to play, too,” I said.

“We’re gonna have to face Elle and Dave at some point, though,” he pointed out with a sigh.

“I know, and that kills me to think about, too,” I confessed as I ran my finger along the line of hair under his belly button. He shifted his hips at the feeling, and he held still when I kept my fingertip right at the waist of his underwear. “Kills me to think that this beautiful skin could be subject to all of that, when you deserve to be genuinely kissed and loved on.”

“Do you think Dave is still out there?”

“That means I would have to let you go and get up,” I pointed out, and I lightly moved my finger down his happy trail again, and that time around brought a light little gasp from his lips. “Does that tickle?”

“I ain’t telling you,” he chided.

“If I go and look to see if Dave is out there, would you tell me?”

“Depends,” he replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “You feel like making us something to nosh on?”

“I’m actually not hungry,” I told him. “But I’ll make you a little something something, though.”

He licked his lips again, that time with as much slowness and deliberation as his fingers on his belly.

“I’ll be right here waiting,” he promised me in a near whisper.

I climbed over him and padded out of the bedroom to the front of my apartment, which had been enshrouded with darkness with the coming of nightfall. I was wary to not switch on the light lest Dave be out there and see me through the blinds on the front window there. Lou’s place next door was completely silent on the other side of the kitchen wall; but I took a peek through the blinds in the kitchen to my narrow square porch right outside the door. No one out there.

Dave either never showed up, or he did but he left after a bit.

I breathed a sigh of relief, and I reached back and switched on the kitchen light to make Alex a pastrami sandwich on a hoagie roll. I served it on a plate and everything.

When I left the kitchen, and I turned off the light, I held still so my eyes would adjust to the darkness again. When I returned to the room, he had sat upright in bed and turned on the light on the desk: he kept the hem of his shirt up to show off his belly to me.

“Yup, he’s definitely out there,” I said to him, and I sank back down on the bed next to him.

“He’s going to be out there all night,” he chuckled as he took the sandwich from me and took a bite. “Oh, my god. It’s so good.”

“There’s plenty more where that came from, big boy,” I assured him.

#fanfic #fanfiction #testament #testament fanfic #testament band #alex skolnick #eric peterson #slash fic #slash fanfiction #belly kink #kink tag #kink content #writing #also on ao3 #text #mild smut #blood & chocolate #blood and chocolate #blood & chocolate fanfic

[feverinfeveroutfic]

”seashells”

His hair was so long and luscious, as black as night itself and as soft as the fur of a cat. He would run his hairbrush through his thick waves as they cascaded down past his shoulders, and they would fan out from his head as if he stood within a whiff of wind. When he bowed his head under the shower head for a good rinse, the tightest of curls stuck to the sides of his head, neck, and arms, just as if he had emanated from the ocean waves at one point. The singular shock of gray plastered to the side of his face, that is until he ran his fingers through his hair and nudged it to the very top of his head, the proverbial cherry on top.

He surprised Q and Jay with that exact look when they settled into their hotel room, and he strode out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair tousled over his shoulder, still sopping wet from the rush of the shower. They showed him a smile, and then followed it up with a lick of their lips when he rested his hand upon his chest. Slowly, he ran his hand down towards his smooth, slender belly and the edge of the towel: a stray tendril of hair stuck to his shoulder and the side of his arm. Jay kept her eyes locked onto his arm and the slim, lanky shape of his body; butterflies welled up in his stomach once he realized what she was looking at, and he knew that that full week there would be interesting.

Hawai’i always treated him and the girls well, especially when it once again proved to be temperate enough for him to walk around with his shirt wide open and his hair down over his shoulders. 

Just like the first night before, he was like a merman, especially when a wave came up and spread a blanket of spray over his head and the expanse of beach before him. He nudged his sunglasses up the full bridge of his nose, and he kept his hands tucked into his baggy shorts pockets, and he let his feet sink into the warm, black volcanic sand with each and every step. He had left the buttons of his silk shirt open, and he exposed the fine dark hair on his chest and his belly to the warm sunshine and the tropical breeze. The ocean breeze swept over his bare chest and belly, and formed little rivulets in his black curls at the crown of his head. The plume of gray at the left side of his head sailed over him like a feather caught up in an updraft.

He spotted something jutting out from the sand before him, and it took him a second to realize that it was a rock. Another big wave washed up before him, to which it crashed down on the jagged rocks on the shore itself, and a wave of spray swept over him.

But rather than cower back away from the sea foam, he let it wash over his head, shoulders, and chest.

At that point during his walk on the beach, he stopped, and he perched his foot upon the smooth surface of the stone. His hair cascaded behind him against the wind as he stood strong and high against the great wide unknown that was the Pacific Ocean.

Something caressed the shape of his hip from behind, and he turned and looked to find Jay right there with half of a coconut in hand and a pink fedora upon her head: she had wrapped a bright green ribbon around the crown and tucked a pink and white hibiscus on the left side.

“New hat?” he asked her with a gesture to the crown of her head.

“Brand new,” she replied with an adjusting of the brim; he lowered his gaze to her body and her scarlet red bikini. Q had that black bathing suit, but he kept his eye on that red bikini, especially once she stepped out in the sunlight. He examined the full curvature of her body as she stood next to him with her free hand pressed to her hip. Though it had only been a day or two since he last touched her and Q in their little rendezvous prior to leaving the mainland for Hawai’i, his fingertips still tingled at the sight of her full, shapely figure.

“Penny for your thoughts?” she asked him.

He shook his head as he nudged his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Nah, I’m just relishing in all of this. I’m sure you are as well.”

“Of course!” she said, and she held onto the straw in the coconut and sipped on the contents inside.

“Piña colada?” he asked her.

“It’s an orgasm,” she replied. “Made on your back.”

He raised his eyebrows and lowered his sunglasses a bit to look on at her.

“Bailey’s, amaretto, cream, and Kahlua,” she explained, and she picked out the cherry from the inside of the coconut. “And to give your fine cherry a popping for its money.”

He then showed her a smirk, and he nudged his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. Jay padded ahead of him, to which he took his foot off the stone and he walked on after her. He tucked his hands into his shorts pockets once again as he stayed right by her side: another gust of wind welled up and his hair fluttered behind him some more.

“Just something about walking around with your gut hanging out like with the two of us,” she remarked.

“I’ll definitely say,” he agreed, and he took one hand out from his pocket and ran his palm down from his chest to the very top of his stomach. Jay nudged the brim of her hat, and she cocked her head to the side a bit. It took him a second to realize that she was looking on at the shape of his belly.

“You are just ever so slightly round here,” she remarked with a gesture there: another gust of wind, that time from behind, and his hair tousled itself over his shoulders. Her face lit up as a result. “Oh, so gorgeous, with your soft little tummy and this beautiful hair of yours, too.”

He raked his fingers through his hair, the one piece that had tousled itself over his left shoulder, and he held his hand there at his collar bone.

“I should have my picture taken for Penthouse or someone,” he suggested with a sly little smile.

“With your chest hair and your gorgeous skin, absolutely,” she quipped.

“Traveling musician hangs out with two girls of the street on the run from a violent pimp,” he proclaimed as if he was telling the story on a forum, “and the girls help him uncover the depths and secrets that lie within him, with or without the assistance of substances.”

“You ought to submit that one,” Jay suggested with another sip of her orgasm in the coconut.

“We shall see what we shall see,” he promised her as he ran his fingers through his hair again: that time, the sea spray began to wet his hair at the roots and down towards the crest of his back. A few more washes of spray over his head, and he would be a proper merman from thence forth. His skin was soft and smooth from the warmth and the kiss of the tropics.

“I could give a story for porn,” he declared over the rush of another breaker off to the side, a much more shallow one that time. He peered out to the ocean, and he spotted the rolls of bigger waves before they reached the edge of the shore. A proper merman in no time.

“We should have a little fun out here on the beach,” she told him, and she stepped a little harder that time in the black sand.

“Yeah, I mean… we’re the only ones here,” he added as he eyed every curve of her body.

“If we have Q here, it’d be extra fun,” she noted with an adjusting of the brim of her hat.

“Threesome on the beach, oh yeah,” he said, and he peeked over his sunglasses at her. “In fact, let’s do that after dinner tonight when the three of us are all together.”

“But as for right now, though…” Jay reached across to the other side of his face and lightly kissed the side of his neck: a few stray tendrils of hair swept across her face all the while. He curled his toes into the dark sand at the feeling of her lips on his skin, and more so when she kissed him a second time, to which she held onto him a bit longer. Still with her hand on the coconut, she took him with her free hand back towards the tree line.

He then spotted a small bunch of smooth rocks under a cluster of date palms, and he knew that that would be perfect all for the two of them.

Jay guided him over to the rocks, and another wave surged up behind him right then. Spray washed over the crown of his head once again, and that time, he could feel his hair growing officially wet at the back there.

She guided him to the smooth surface of the stone closest to them, and he took his seat there before her. He reclined back on his hands and opened his legs for her to see the seam of his shorts. Jay drank down another sip of her orgasm made on the back, and then she set the coconut down on the stone next to him. She stooped down before his face, and he was met with the full view of her breasts, full and smooth with a kiss of olive to her skin.

He moved his sunglasses down a bit so he could better see her chest as well as her face.

She licked her lips as she examined the shape of his face and the curled quality to his bangs. She held onto his gray streak with her index finger and her thumb, and she twirled it around her finger. He could tell that his hair was wet, and he knew what she was doing right then.

“You have such beautiful hair,” Jay whispered into his ear, and she let go of his gray hair. She slowly ran her fingers through the tendrils on the side of his head. “It’s even more so gorgeous when wet.”

“You really do believe that I’m a merman,” he remarked.

“The hair, the skin, the fact that you came along like a spider and opened your legs for us?”

She lightly kissed the side of his neck, and she nuzzled his soft smooth skin. He let her sniff his hair at the very back of his head, long enough for her to drink down his essence before she locked her lips onto his neck again. That time, she kissed him all the way to the crest of his collar bone. He leaned all the way back to the face of the stone so he could present the full shape of his body all to her. Jay suspended herself right above his body so she could look right into his face. She kept the hat on as she lowered her face down to his: her breasts hung down low, and her hand still caressed over the thick thatch of hair still over his shoulder. Her fingers wound their way through his curled locks, and he knew that she could give him a little tug when he least suspected it.

“You really are a merman,” she whispered right into his ear, a whisper despite the roar of the waves, a whisper despite his heart pounding in his chest, right in his ear. She kept her grip on his hair as she reached down and tugged down her bikini panties. He lifted his head to see her touching her own clit; touching herself as she held onto his hair.

His hair turned her on, one of the many things about him that turned her on. And the thought of her getting turned on gave him a feeling between his legs that he never wanted to give up, especially when another breaker welled up, and crashed down on the volcanic shoreline, and spread some more spray over their bodies. Jay showed him her tongue, and he could feel her hand on the crotch of his shorts. All done with one hand.

And he never wanted her to let go, even for a second.

#kinktober #kinktober masterlist #kinktober prompts #kinktober 2024 #kinktober all year #kink tag #kink tumblr #fanfic #fanfiction #alex skolnick #testament #testament fanfic #testament band #love is not enough #love is not enough fanfic #smut writing #smut warning #also on ao3 #writing #text

[feverinfeveroutfic]

The Confectioner’s Tale | Chapter 2

as sweet as blood and chocolate 🩸

(speaking of, new chapter of that coming)

There was a rumor spread about me some time ago. I had no idea as to when it had manifested or when it came into fruition, but somehow I had gotten word that the kids down the street were saying that I made cupcakes out of human flesh and blood. At first, my colleagues and I had laughed it off, and I believed it to be because we served cupcakes at Halloween with a cherry red glaze over the top so as to resemble to blood: we also had cakes with decorations in the shape of human fingers and eyeballs. I figured that it was simply Halloween fun from the neighborhood children: I was a kid in northern Nevada, and Halloween was a huge deal in Carson City, and so, I knew it all too well.

Then the health department showed up.

The memory of being questioned by the health inspector and having my pantry looked at down to every last molecule of flour and sugar had been etched in my memory from thence forth. I was still wary of keeping red food coloring in the pantry near the decoration tools because I knew that it could be mistaken as blood.

I had considered myself as a kitchen witch of sorts, what with my long dark bushy hair down to my waist and my brown eyes in contrast with my pale olive-toned skin. I had been to Cyprus and Israel, the latter of which a few times to say in the least. I was all too familiar with Canada and Britain. I was an artist on top of being elbow-deep in pastry and bread doughs.

But I knew in my heart of hearts that one of these days, I was going to have to find my out of Los Angeles and mosey on up to Reno again.

What you see as somewhat above you, you watch with eyes that burn like cigarettes no matter what the context.

I had the bricks of cream cheese out on the counter next to me and the mixer, as well as the sour cream, half a stick of butter, six eggs, and the jar of vanilla extract. I had already crafted out the graham cracker crust and had put it in the fridge for chilling for about twenty minutes.

Chill for twenty, bake for twenty-five, as my boss had advised me on the first time around. 

I couldn’t stop thinking about those two boys as I began work on that lush New York cheesecake: it was going to take longer than the Bailey’s cake given it had to sit in the fridge and chill for a whole day once I had finished it, which meant Alex wasn’t going to get his slice until the morning hours at the very least. I hoped that he would understand, and I hoped that he would still be there come the morning as well.

Boiling water in the roasting pan where the springform pan would be set within, and I hoped that the cake would set.

I had only made all of three New York style cheesecakes before then, the first of which was at home, and thus, I was a bit nervous to start with.

In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I found rather interesting that I had gotten a Jewish boy as well as another guy from New York, and there I was crafting out a state dessert complete with a small grouping of fresh raspberries on top.

Once time was up, I opened the oven door and checked on the cake, nestled inside of the shiny springform pan and the steaming water bath.

An ever so slight wobble in the middle was all I needed.

My heart skipped a beat when I knew it was just right, and I took the smooth pale yellow disk right out of the heat with my red silicone oven mitts. I perched the cake on the wire rack next to me for a moment; I then took off the springform, albeit with some care so as to make sure the cake was fully set in place. The latch clicked off and the filling stayed put as it should. I let out a low whistle and tucked it into the top shelf of the pale purple refrigerator, and then I got right to work on that Bailey’s cake for Pete.

There sat a brand new rich black bottle of the liqueur in the back of the pantry, and as I took it out of hiding, I had a flashback to when Ben was in the picture.

They were never that much of heavy drug users, but they did enjoy some drinks and some recklessness every now and again. But Ben had the most nefarious of habits with his smoking. He made it look so cool and yet so repulsive at that same time as he leaned against the brick wall with a cigarette rested on his bow-shaped lips and his long shaggy, bushy hair dangled down over his face. I had only known him via writing and what I had seen from afar, but the thought of the smoke caressing and cutting into his skin, a subtle poison sharper than any knife, only made me nauseous. I may have had my inkling for him, but I had my doubts about kissing him should the opportunity ever make its way to my mind

Maybe it was just my own naïveté in thinking that I could fix him. I often fantasized about getting together with him and we could find a way to get away from those damned things. To clear away the smoke so he could smile and breathe without choking on his own oxygen.

I had my fantasies, about talking to him face to face, about going on a date with him.

They were fantasies until I acted upon them.

I returned to reality as I made the chocolate ganache for the Bailey’s cake.

Unsweetened chocolate with heavy cream and a tablespoon of that smooth liqueur over a bain-marie.

I wondered what those boys were doing across the street as I glimpsed over at the time on the two tiers in the oven. Only five doors separated them, and I knew that the smell of the Bailey’s cake would attract attention amongst themselves once the time came for me. Five doors and five minutes.

I let the ganache set for a second on the stove so it would stay warm for the time being, and I began the buttercream frosting. Oh, what a glorious bitch that was buttercream frosting.

I switched on the mixer to low speed and took another glimpse up to the shelf with the boxes of cake decorations. A part of me wanted to whip out the fake blood again, just to see how they would react across the street. I may have been a baker, but I was a baker who gave a blessing to the kitchens I worked in. 

I had my witchcraft, and they both had the shadows on their eyes and the hair as black as night. A rumor or not, it made sense in the strangest way as the cream manifested itself right before my eyes. I switched off the mixer, and within seconds, the timer went off. I put the mitts back on and took the cake pans out of the oven: the rich dark chocolate batter had risen toward the edges of the fine silver pans in a slight dome shape, and I knew they were done with a mere pat of my fingertip.

I let them cool for a few minutes before I took each of them out of the pans and spread the ganache over the bottom tier. It seemed a bit of a rush as the tiers had to cool all the way, but I figured that it was cool enough in that kitchen that they would temper down enough to work with. Or perhaps not as they steamed once released from the pans.

All the while, I flashed a glimpse over at the refrigerator door, and I thought about that cheesecake. It had to chill before I could do anything to it, and so far, it had only been about an hour.

I was going to have to spill to Alex once I walked on out of there with the Bailey’s cake for Pete.

I cleaned up the kitchen a bit so as to let the tiers cool some more, and I once again had another flashback to Ben. When the rumor that we were using human flesh and blood in our baked goods, and I was supposedly the one responsible for it, I thought about Ben talking about being a twenty-year-old kid and living on Bainbridge Island, far removed from the rest of the world. Chris had said the last thing any kid would ever want to do was knock on Ben’s door for any reason whatsoever, not even if his house was on fire, because Ben would greet them with a double-barrel twelve-gage. I always wondered how much truth there was to that, and if any kid had ever gone to the hospital with a slug of lead embedded in the back of their head.

I was in love with a potential murderer as far as I knew, and I shuddered at the thought.

As I wiped down the counter over the display case with a cloth, I looked on at myself in the reflection of the shiny silvery metal. As silver as the tiny plume in Alex’s hair.

Oh, flesh and blood. The thing that bounded us and the thing that could have done us in more so than the nickname of the “tombstone mile”.

A shadow emerged from behind the glass front door, and I took a glimpse up for a look outside there. A tall, burly man with long wavy hair the color of the Bailey’s cake, smooth skin kissed by the sun, and long lanky arms strode across the street; when he extended his hand out to the door handle, I caught a glimpse of the silver cross on his middle finger.

“Hey!” he greeted me once he stepped inside; he took off his mirrored sunglasses and showed me brilliant blue eyes in sharp contrast of his dark skin.

“Hey!” I returned the favor, albeit with a bit of reluctance as he was just a stranger to me.

“I’m with Alex, who came in here earlier,” he told me as the door closed behind him. He lightly smelled of cologne, beer, and incense, and it helped that he donned a turquoise bracelet on his left wrist. “I’m Chuck.”

“Chuck! I’m Hannah. What can I do for you?”

“I just came to see how you’re doing,” he replied. “He told me about you and the cheesecake you’re making just for him.”

“Aw!” I brought a hand to my chest at that, and I could feel my heart skipping a few beats. This was a first for me, especially after everything that Ben and I had gone through before. I could feel my face growing warm as a result of that.

“And let me guess, you want a slice yourself,” I quipped, to which he shrugged.

“Maybe. I guess I could also check out what else you got given this is a bakery and a rather infamous one at that, as well.”

“The cake has to cool for eight hours,” I told him, “and we’re not that infamous, either.” I flashed him a wink, and he returned the favor with a sly grin. His luminous eyes swept down to my chest and the pendant around my neck for a moment. He squinted at it, and then, like the sun outside of there, his face lit up.

“Oh, that says ‘Soundgarden’! Love those cats.”

“Favorite band in the whole world,” I said with one hand on my hip as if to indicate my pride. “I wrote a string of letters to their bass player Ben.”

“Oh, that’s so cool! Anything come of that?”

And I sighed through my nose. He raised his eyebrows at that.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I used to like him,” I confessed with a shrug. “I never did get even so much as a ‘boo’ out of him.”

Chuck leaned over the top of the display case and folded his arms over the edge.

“You deserve better,” he assured me in a low voice. “You deserve so much better than to be left in the dark like that.”

I showed him a smile.

“Thank you, that’s really sweet of you,” I said.

“I mean it, though!” Chuck insisted. “You deserve to feel something in the midst of everything.” He ran his fingers through his dark waves, to which he craned his neck for a look into the kitchen behind me.

“By the way, what else is baking in here? It smells wonderful.”

“A chocolate cake laced with powdered espresso and Bailey’s,” I replied. “A favorite at St. Paddy’s Day and a special one for a guy who came in before Alex.”

Chuck paused for a second.

“Was it a tall guy? Taller than me? Long jet-black hair and big bright green eyes? Looks like he could either drain you of your blood or kill a man with his bare hands?”

“Yes, actually,” I stammered.

“He and his band are staying right next door to us,” he replied. “We’re on separate tours, but we’re in the same hotel.”

“Oh, my god, really?”

“Yeah! Small world, right?”

“As small as the petits-fours we’ll be making coming up here soon enough,” I quipped. Chuck took a glimpse down to the case before him right then: the glass always got too warm if someone leaned up against it like that, but he seemed to be double-taking on something under the glass.

“What’s this right here?” he asked me with a gesture to the box on the shelf right before me.

“Malassadas,” I replied. “They’re basically Portuguese donuts, covered in cinnamon and sugar. Pretty big over in Hawai’i as well as the Azores, and also me as I’m Portuguese.”

“I’m Mexican and Native American,” he added. “We’re curators of the damned.”

“And I’ll be damned, too,” I cracked, which in turn brought a big chuckle out of him.

“I’ll take one of those, and how long do you think that Bailey’s cake is going to be?”

“I took the tiers out of the oven about ten minutes ago and they have to cook before I could frost and assemble them,” I explained. “So, about… twenty minutes or so.” I paused. “Why?”

“Let me walk you over there once it’s done,” he suggested. “You know. Woman walking across the street in L.A. with a chocolate cake in her arms.”

I squinted my eyes at that. This totally was nothing like Ben, or like Soundgarden for that matter.

“Let me get that malassada for you,” I said to him in a low voice.

#fanfic #fanfiction #testament #testament fanfic #testament band #chuck billy #oc tag #chapter 2 #type o negative #soundgarden #ben shepherd #peter steele #also on ao3 #writing #text #the confectioner’s tale fanfic #the confectioner’s tale

[feverinfeveroutfic]

i need to write. new chapter of something coming 🤍

[feverinfeveroutfic]

as far as my fics go… i’m really in no rush whatsoever to finish any of them, if i’m being completely honest. a part of it is just a me thing, i launch new writing projects, i don’t want them to end. and yet, there’s just something so satisfying about sitting down and writing something to the end and witnessing a scene i’ve had in mind come to life through my own words. there’s something great about bringing my internal world out in the open.

i’ll do what i can, though. i’m getting pretty good at writing on my tablet, so as long as i have internet and my charger, i’ll be fine there.

and i had this feeling hanging over me for some time now, too, that there was always this possibility that we would lose the house somehow and had to move, and more so when my stepdad passed a few years ago. i just never thought it would be like this.

#literally

[feverinfeveroutfic]

#personal

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i wanna play with his ponytail, too

#!!!!!!! #sweet alex

[feverinfeveroutfic]

”disco volante”

Christine had no other means of arousing Alex other than her own wave of a pencil in his direction and the way that she managed to bring him away from Captain Howdy, and she knew that she had to find a way soon enough given the wedding was a month away. There had to have been a way to keep him away from her, to have him in the safety of Christine’s bed, to be with someone who truly loved him more than anything in the world. And yet, she had hit a wall of sorts.

She refused to give up on him, however. She wanted his love and the feeling of his body next to her, however, and she knew that she could love him more than Captain Howdy ever could as well.

There was the thought of finding her into cooking and baking like her mother, but she helped Wendy in baking him his birthday cake back in September and nothing had changed after that. There had to be a means of seducing him and making him forget Captain Howdy altogether, but she realized as to how much of a tall order she was undertaking as the two were literally engaged with one another.

It was the week before Thanksgiving, and yet Christine was in very little mood to go back home for a full week as of yet. The thought of the wedding remained firmly on her mind as she walked to the cafeteria to fetch some lunch and a chat with Nelly. The mere suggestion of it was making her stomach turn: Captain Howdy was getting to hold him and be close to him on a regular basis, when she knew that it should have been her in that place. Christine tucked the edges of her hood up against the sides of her face so she could have some privacy and a safe space against the cold winds and the incoming rain. She peeked out of the edges of the hood in the sense that Captain Howdy was nearby waiting to strike her like a king cobra.

The puddles splashed underneath the soles of her shoes as she made her way up to the front doors of the cafeteria. She was greeted by the warm familiar aromas of French fries and pies straight out of the oven in the back of the kitchen, and also the sight of the papier-mâché turkeys and pumpkins perched upon the edges of the counters. Nelly stood at the other side of the counter with a notepad in one hand and some extra feather quality to her fluffy blonde hair and a smile on her face.

“Hey, Christine, what’ll it be?” she greeted her once she came within earshot.

“I’ll have a Denver omelette and a piece of the pie of the week,” Christine replied.

“You’re in luck, it’s apple blackberry!” Nelly declared, and then her face softened at the sight of her. “And is everything okay? You don’t seem like your usual peppery self today.”

Christine leaned forward so Nelly could better hear her.

“I’m getting kind of depressed about Alex’s wedding coming up here at Christmas,” she confessed to her in a low voice. “You know, once he’s hitched, that’s it. I ain’t coming over again after that.”

“Yeah, you know, that’s been my thought, too: they will probably move out to Westchester and you’ll never see him again,” Nelly added in a single breath and with a tap of her pen on the notepad. “Let me get your order up and ready first: I have my break in a bit so you and I can talk about it.”

“Okay, thank you.” Christine nodded her head and paid the ten dollars for her lunch, and then she padded on over to her usual spot, the heavy wooden bar by the window with a view out to the street and the courtyard. She and Alex made that spot their own, and Eric, Valentina, Sabrina, and Chuck had posted up there as well: it became like a party of sorts on those days. Now, there were two, as Chuck and Eric had their classes for the time being, Sabrina had study hall, and Valentina had the day off.

Christine sat there with her sketchbook out before her. She had very little motivation to make her graphic novel in the recent weeks, not since the incident on the Fourth of July and she had worried about losing her apartment. Captain Howdy got a dream wedding at Christmas but Christine fretted about losing her apartment for a whole month during summer vacation when she should have been relaxing. Christine needed a means of calming herself down on such a hectic week which also happened to be hot, and thus, she visited Alex and his air-conditioned apartment.

She never expected it to happen to her.

Christine rubbed her brow with her fingertips, even though she didn’t have a headache. She gazed out the window and she thought of doing something drastic.

There had to be a way to dig into herself and unearth those deep desires, those feelings that she never shared with anyone before.

She caught the sound of Nelly’s footsteps behind her, which was then followed by the sight of her omelette and her piece of pie as if she had walked into a diner. Nelly took her spot next to her and leaned in closer.

“Do you have any advice on how to arouse him better?” Christine asked her as she sloughed off a bite of scrambled egg and bell pepper. Nelly hesitated for a second at that, and then she leaned in closer to her.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” she assured her with a raise of her finger and a flash of a wink. “I know how to seduce him and get him good, actually, now that you mention it. Meet up with me after school, right behind the cafeteria, and I’ll take you back home and show it to you. Eat up your omelette and your piece of pie first, though.”

Christine sighed through her nose as she indulged in her omelette in silence. She then piped up again.

“Are you sure this could work? Because the times before this, I’ve tried getting him away from her and he just doesn’t seem to budge.”

“We never really know,” Nelly pointed out with a shrug of her shoulders. “We also never really know what could happen on his end, as well. The first jolt to a relationship never holds up. You have to be persistent.”

Christine ate up her piece of pie at a slow deliberate pace, and it was at that point that she had to go to class. She thanked Nelly again, who also added in a hug as a parting gesture, and then Christine made her way to her next class. She was eager to find out what Nelly had in store for her later that day, such that she just wanted to get out of that class and hurry on over to the cafeteria again.

At that point, it was pouring rain, and she knew that that could add to the feeling when she saw Alex again. Indeed, Nelly awaited her with her car and a black umbrella over her feathery blonde hair.

“You ready?” she asked her over the noise of the rain.

“I was born ready,” Christine replied; once the car was unlocked, she set her bag in the backseat and she climbed into the passenger side with her hood still over her head. She shivered from the rain but Nelly was quick to turn on the heater for the two of them.

“California is so cold in comparison to New York,” Christine remarked with a rub of her upper arms.

“Really?” Nelly knitted her eyebrows at that. “California, really?”

“Yeah, it’s surprising, like I didn’t think it would be so chilly over there in June, but I remember Eric and I having to put our jackets on whenever we went out. When we left here, I was hot. Next thing I know, I’m having to bundle up when we left the airport over in Monterey.”

“Did it rain at all when you guys were over there? I don’t remember.”

“Yeah, for a couple days, too. This really nice, misty, but cold rain on our heads. Nothing like the downpours we get here.” She shivered again, and more so as they reached Nelly’s neighborhood in the Upper West Side.

Jasper the doorman held the door for Christine, and she was met with the unmistakable smell of peppermint to keep the bats out of the complex, and more so as the front door closed behind Nelly.

“Why does it still smell like mint in here?” Christine asked as they padded towards the elevator. “It’s November. I thought bats started hibernating this time of year.”

“They like to hide in crawl spaces and in attics during the wintertime,” Nelly explained with an adjusting of her purse strap. “Happened to one of my cooks last year. He had this whole infestation of bats in their attic and he didn’t even know he had them in there until spring began and he kept hearing this flapping noise upstairs and couldn’t figure it out.” She pressed the button next to the elevator door and they waited for the next one.

“He didn’t get bit, did he?” Christine asked her, horrified.

“Oh, no. He called up animal control and they sorted it out just fine. He still got a tetanus shot and a test anyway.” Nelly then snickered.

“What?” Christine couldn’t help but smile as well. The elevator door opened and they stepped inside; Nelly pressed the button and the doors slid shut.

“I just thought of scrounging up some bats and putting it in her place,” Nelly answered with a chuckle. Christine gasped and laughed at that. She gave Nelly a playful slap on the shoulder.

“I’m getting in seduction mode,” she confessed with a flick of her eyebrows. “I have a way to do all of this without anyone looking or paying attention, don’t you’re worry.”

The doors slid open again, and that time, they were on her floor. Nelly led Christine back to her apartment with the key out before her, and she revealed the coziness of the apartment to her. Christine shut the door behind her and took her seat on the comfy couch. Nelly padded to her bedroom for something, and she returned with a small black box in hand.

“I bought this set some time ago,” she explained as she held the lid with one hand and delved through the inside of the box with the other. “I never used any of these, though. I never had the opportunity to use them so they’re practically pristine.” She then handed Christine a sea-foam green ring about the size of a key lime with a switch on one side.

“Give him this,” she advised her in a low voice. “This will help him come closer to you.”

“What’s it do?”

“It goes around the tip.”

“The tip?” Christine knitted her eyebrows at that, and Nelly nodded her head, complete with a little twinkle in her eye.

“When you get alone with him, put that on his tip.” Christine’s face lit up right then, and Nelly chuckled.

“Yeah, put that on his tip and switch it on,” she repeated, excited. “It’ll drive him absolutely crazy.”

Christine’s heart skipped a few beats, and more so as she cradled the ring in the palm of her hand. She curled her fingers around it and licked her lips as she began to plan ahead.

“Take this, too,” Nelly added as she handed over a narrow pink object about the length of a shoehorn. “That’s for you.”

“For me?”

“Yeah, you press the button on that and slip it inside of your hood and let it tickle you.” Christine did just that and it vibrated in the palm of her hand.

“Oh, boy,” she declared and her heart skipped a few beats. 

“I should also tell you that you have got to clean these with warm water and soap once you’re done with them, too,” she continued in a low voice. Nelly then closed the box and showed her a grin.

“Wanna stick around for dinner?” she offered her.

*

After she had come home, Christine called up Alex to see if he wanted to do something fun together, and she was wary of leaving a message as she knew that Captain Howdy would hear it and raise all manner of suspicions to him. When it went to voicemail, she hung up.

She decided to visit him in the morning, especially since it was Thursday and she only had two classes for the day, both of which were in the afternoon.

She kept the toys in a little plastic bag in her coat pocket: she kept Nelly’s advice to heart as she made her way to his apartment under the veil of the rain.

He greeted her with a smile and a kiss on the side of her neck.

“I was wondering if that you who called last night,” he said to her with a sly grin. “I saw you on my caller ID and then you hung up. I’m glad you did.”

She shrugged her shoulders.

“I just… had a hunch.” She inched closer to him and ran her fingers down his chest.

“What’s this about?” he asked her, still with the grin on his face.

“A little fun before breakfast,” she confessed.

“A little fun?” He sighed at that.

“What?” She backed off a bit to look into his eyes.

“You know I have a wedding to plan.”

“So?”

“So?” He gaped at her a bit. Christine reached into her coat pocket for the bag, and Alex raised his eyebrows at it.

“Are those—” He stopped right in his tracks.

“Let’s use these together,” she offered him. “Let’s lock the door and take our pants off together. Let’s tease each other while we’re at it.”

“I dunno… I have things to do today.”

Christine kissed him on the side of the neck, and he shivered from the feeling.

“Let me seduce you and be sexy for you,” she whispered into his ear. She stepped back and opened the bag. With her heart pounding, she took out the long vibrator. She then opened her coat and her jeans.

She switched it on and slipped one end of it inside of her underwear. Alex held still as she tugged down her panties a bit more so he could see her caressing her hood with the end of the vibrator. She closed her eyes as the head of her clit tickled almost immediately. She breathed harder from the feeling, and more so when she moved the tip slightly to the right.

He swallowed at the sight of her chest heaving. She was already growing moist from the sensation.

Alex finally lunged for the bag in her free hand.

“Gimme that,” he quipped, and he took out the ring from the bag. Christine couldn’t help but let her tongue hang out of her mouth like that of a dog as he dropped his pants and slipped it on over his tip. It was a tight fit but he managed to put it on. He switched it on and closed his eyes.

“Is the door locked?” she stammered out.

Alex stepped to the side and reached for the deadbolt over the doorknob. With a delirious look on his face, he turned the lock and then returned to her with a bright pink flush to his face.

“It is now, my Strawberry Girl—” He made a noise that sounded like he had just run a whole mile and he lunged for the couch. Christine followed suit right next to him, and right as she was about to reach the top.

Breathing hard and with the switch turned to nearly full blast, Alex glanced over at her.

“You look so hot,” he sputtered out.

“I do?” She couldn’t help but smile at him for that.

“So fucking—hot!”

Christine yelped out as she reached her first climax. And she knew she could do it again right as he started to as well.

First breakup never held, but she knew that she had a start right then.

#fanfic #fanfiction #kink tumblr #kinktober #kinktober masterlist #kinktober prompts #kinktober 2024 #kink tag #testament #testament fanfic #testament band #alex skolnick #oc tag #as the seasons grey #as the seasons grey fanfic #also on ao3 #writing #text #smut warning #smut writing #smut #kinktober all year

[feverinfeveroutfic]

i’m thinking the confectioner’s tale will be multi-chapter because flowers for alexander is wrapping soon (you know. something has to finish before i can indulge in something new). i’ll be writing up a chapter for tuesday/wednesday 🍰

also, new chapters of blood & chocolate and dark roots of earth are in the works, as is this week’s kinktober one shot.

also, we’re experiencing thundersnow right now if you can believe that 😅

[feverinfeveroutfic]

flowers for alexander | chapter thirty

The mountains down below the ship gave way to the rolling hills and grasslands as well as the rocky canyon of the high Sierra, but Florence had her mind on the prize of bringing the ship back down to the ground again. As long as they were in a safe place like Reno again, that was all that mattered to her.

Her tools were downstairs but she only had to think about it for a moment as she put on her boots and tied up her dishwater blonde hair. A knock on the door caught her off guard, and she raised her head to the thin paper over the door. No way that was Eric or Francine, or Alex for that matter.

“It’s open,” she called out as she laced up her boots. The door slid open and they were met with the sight of Mark’s dreadlocks and oval-gaped face.

“Hey, you,” Chuck greeted him.

“Hey!” Mark decreed with a worried look on his face. “Rob and I just heard about the ship, what’s happening?”

“The mechanic is going to take matters into her hands,” Chuck replied with a gesture over to her.

“Yeah, there’s too much to explain,” Florence confessed as she sat up and ran her fingers through her ponytail there at the back of her head. “It’s only better to go into the heart of the ship, the engine room, and loop everything so the steam never runs out even when we get to Reno. I figure that, since steam is just superheated water, it can condense itself and then warm up again, at least until there’s nothing left.”

“Just add water,” Mark joked.

“It’s not that simple,” Florence assured him, and Chuck stood up behind her. “Especially since we have a reactor down there as well. I wish it was, though.” From behind Mark’s head, she noticed the door across the hall sliding closed. She pursed her lips, and Mark turned his attention back there.

“What?” he asked her.

“‘Scuse me one second,” Florence said; Mark stepped out of the way for her, and she padded over to Alex’s door. She heard Chuck whispering something to Mark, but that was the least of her concerns for the time being. She lightly tapped on the door frame with her knuckle.

“Alex?” she called through the paper panel. Silence. She turned her attention back to Chuck and Mark, both of whom looked concerned. Florence tried again.

“Alex? Everything okay?” More silence.

She returned to them with a slight shrug of her shoulders.

“What’s with him?” Mark asked her in a hushed voice. She opened her mouth to say something, but she stopped herself. She would rather keep what Francine had told her under wraps, especially since it was really no one else’s business. 

Alex needed to rest his head. He was using too much brain power, especially when his brain never melded too well with hers. If she truly still loved him, she would let him rest.

She would let him go.

“He had a long night,” was all she could muster for him. It was sort of the truth: Alex had been up until the early hours of the morning chatting with Francine, but there had to be ways to bury the truth without really unearthing anything.

“Oh, I see,” Mark raised his eyebrows at that, and then he craned his neck to the door across the hall. “If it’s any comfort to him, all five of us all did, too. In fact, the last couple of nights have been brutal.” And then he returned to her. “Really, I don’t know how you guys sleep on here. I don’t know if it’s intentional but our room is right near the hull of this thing. We’re a ways away from the reactor but everything is creaking and making noises, the pipes all whir over our heads and we worry about something bursting… we can’t wait to sleep in our own beds again.”

Florence sighed through her nose.

“I’m going to get you guys in your beds again,” she vowed to him, and she rested a hand on her belly, still small even with the passage of time. And then she remembered that Eric and Francine were down near the hull of the ship.

“You guys wanna come with me so I’m not down there all alone?” she asked them. “Hot metal, radiation gauges, and superheated water… I don’t really feel comfortable when I think about it.”

“I was just going to offer you that,” Chuck confessed, and he closed the compartment door behind him. Florence led the way down the hallway to the stairs, down towards the hull, and all the while, a nervous sensation swept over her. As far as she knew, they were stuck down there and with no means of breaking out of the hull. 

At least she wasn’t heading down solo.

The stairs towards the bottom of the ship ran adjacent to the corridor towards the center and the place where she and Francine had gone before. Chuck lingered behind her, complete with one hand on her shoulder as if to guide her towards the darkest of the pipes: it was hard to believe that the boys from Death Angel had a room down there given the heat from the metal and the darkness.

“Where’s Mark?” he asked right then; Florence turned her head for a look back at the rest of the narrow corridor. Indeed, Mark had disappeared into the shadows: there was a fork in the corridor that she had missed upon their walking in there, and she wondered if he had gone back to their dorm at all. But there was not a single sound of footsteps anywhere in that corridor, however: if he had disappeared in there, they would still be able to hear him in there.

“Oh, god,” Florence groaned, and she clasped a hand onto her forehead.

“Let’s just stay right here,” Chuck suggested. “He probably couldn’t have gotten far from here. I mean, it’s not like we’re in the Winchester House back home.”

“True, true…” She swallowed and clutched at herself. The whole network of pipes was vast and elaborate as it made its way up to the ceiling overhead: she spotted a line of gauges near the top, and she could only assume that those were more radiation meters. She hoped that none of those gauges were showing anything high up, especially since they were down by the engine room and the reactor. She hoped that nothing would happen between then and when she adjusted the pipes so the ship wouldn’t run out of steam.

It was right then she knew that time was of the essence when it came to the steam. She shuddered at the thought of the reactor running out—

“Shit—shit, I got turned around,” Mark confessed right then as he stumbled out before them out from behind the pipes on the wall. He then stopped in his tracks with his hands pressed to his chest. “It’s so easy to get lost in here, no wonder why they disappeared. Where did we come in?”

“Back here?” Florence gestured to the narrow dark corridor behind them. He let out a low whistle and shook his head.

“God, we have got to find them and then get out of here,” Mark bemoaned. “I can’t bear being down here for longer than thirty minutes.”

“Where the hell are they?” Chuck demanded.

“I don’t know, but let me think, let me think…” Florence held still right in between the pipes suspended on the wall. The two of them held still in silence, especially as she lifted her head for a glimpse up to the rest of the pipes on the wall across from her. Eric and Francine were in there somewhere, and she worried that they had gone off to a channel of the airship that she didn’t want to know, a place filled with blue light.

The mere thought of it brought tears to her eyes.

“Are you okay?” Mark then asked her, slightly concerned.

“I need to think for a second,” she confessed to them, and she bowed away from there, back to the way they came. She had no idea if it was the burgeoning life inside of her that gave her the feeling, but she needed to be alone again lest she had to mourn over them.

Her footsteps echoed over the grated metal as she made her way back to her room. But she couldn’t reach the room itself as she hung outside of the door: the tears brimmed her eyes right then, and she cupped her face in her hands. She let them fall down on the inside of her palms, and she couldn’t help but whimper right then.

It was just all too overwhelming for her to even so much as think about.

“Florence?”

His voice caught her attention. With a deep sniffle, she moved her hands and looked on at the thin paper right before her. She could make out his shadow on the other side there.

“Florence?” Alex sounded so small on the other side of the paper.

“Alex?” She sniffled again, and that time she padded over to his door. “Can I come in?”

There was a soft rustling noise inside of his room there, and then a brief pause. He slid the door open, and he revealed his wide eyes and slightly parted lips. Florence wiped away a tear, and she stepped towards him and the comfort of his room. He shut the door and she sank down on the edge of his bed.

“Is everything okay?” he gently asked her, and he took his spot next to her.

“Francine and Eric are down near the hull, and neither I nor Chuck and Mark know what happened to them. We don’t know where they are.” She sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. More tears welled up, and she buried her face in her hands again. He put his arm around her and brought his face close to her own.

“Hey,” he gently cooed to her. “Hey. It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay. We’ll find them, I promise.”

“I just worry,” she tearfully confessed, and she wiped more tears off her face, “about things like… hot metal pipes… and the reactor… this whole thing losing steam and we’re going to crash when we get to Reno… I can’t fix it. I can’t do it!”

“You can!” he insisted. “You can. You can do it. They went down towards the hull, you said?”

“Yeah…” she sniffled. “It’s so easy to get turned around down there. It happened to Mark before I came back up here.”

“Well… there’s metal pipes down there,” he said. “Surely, there’s an echo.”

“And there is…” Her voice trailed off. Her chin trembled. She wasn’t thinking straight.

“What am I going to tell my mom,” she sputtered, “that I lost my husband and my best friend in the hull of an airship with a nuclear reactor onboard, and there’s a nuclear war going on outside, too?”

“I—” Alex then stopped and gaped at her, his eyes wide with horror. “Wait, wait, wait, what? What was that last thing you said?”

Florence sniffled and let a tear fall from her eye. “Chuck didn’t tell you?” she asked him with a break in her voice.

“No! I’ve been locked up in here all night long with Francine, I haven’t heard Jack shit! What the hell happened?”

“He was up all night with Exodus playing cards and they saw a mushroom cloud way the hell out. He thinks it may have been over Salt Lake City.”

Alex clasped a hand to his head and lay down on the bed. The hem of his shirt lifted up all the while, but Florence could only pay attention to the mortified look on his face.

“Jesus Christ Almighty help us all.” He put his hands on his brow and closed his eyes.

“Hear, O Israel: Yahweh is our god, Yahweh is one…” he breathed the words to the point they almost sounded as though they came in on the back of the wind. He then opened his eyes again and gazed up at the ceiling. “I forget the rest,” he confessed. “I haven’t recited the full Shema since I was a little kid. I remember saying it with my grandparents and my aunt and uncle, but I don’t remember everything about it.”

Florence frowned at that.

“Funny, you never really talked about religion much when we were together,” she recalled.

“You can be Jewish but not religious at all,” he explained. “I certainly am. My parents are, too.” He then closed his eyes again. “Oh, god, my parents. I need a hug from my mom if nothing else.”

“I am going to get you home to your parents,” she promised him. “Like how I promised Mark I was going to get those boys back home to sleep in their beds again.” She sniffled again, but this time she could think more clearly.

The growing life inside of her had done a number on her mind, and sometimes there needed to be a way out on the outside to realize it.

“Florence?”

Before she stood up, she glanced back at Alex, who still lay flat on his back on the bed with his hands pressed up on his brow. The boy whom she still could feel inside of her heart.

“I love you.” Slowly, he sat upright, and his eyes gazed deep into her, a pair of deep pools. He usually had the calmest, coolest demeanor she had ever seen, but he had let the cold dissipate to reveal the softness of water within him. Florence could feel the warmth blooming in her face at the way he moved in closer to her and more so when he held his face in closer to her own: she then flashed back on the moment back in the hills, and it was right then she realized she hadn’t seen the spice cake anywhere in his room, either. The heat of the spice, the one pocket of spice and sweetness tucked away from the rest of a world gone horribly wrong.

“I love you,” he repeated. “I believe in you.”

“I love you, too,” she breathed into his lips. “I love you forever, even when Eric and I grow old, and when Nathalie is born.”

Alex raised his eyebrows at that. “Nathalie?”

“It was either that or Alexandra,” she confessed. “We can’t really name a girl Nathan. She’s… my last bouquet for you.”

He closed his eyes and loomed closer to her.

“Kiss me,” he begged to her in a soft breathy voice.

“Alex—Alex, no—no, please, I need to find Eric. I need to find him and tell him how much I love him.”

“Kiss me—” he begged. “Please—my garden of earthly delights, the flower on my gravestone—kiss me. We stand on the edge of the earth as the powers that be try to destroy it all. Kiss me as the nukes persistently fall.”

His long fingers crept up onto her chest, onto her breasts, such that she jerked back a bit, but she never stepped away from him all the way. Alex scrambled closer to her, and with the unmistakable look of pain on his face.

“Kiss me… because I’m in love with you,” he whispered to her. “I’m still in love with you. I have never fallen out of love with you. Not even for a second.”

“Alex—” Florence cupped his face in her hands, and she never let go of her gaze on him for one second. Those eyes, always so deep and soulful, never seemed so much like water right then. She realized he was crying, and she had never actually seen him cry before.

“Alex—” She breathed his name before she moved in for a gentle kiss on those soft cherry lips. As gentle and soft as the air in springtime. She brushed his bangs off his forehead so she could see his full face: he closed his eyes, and in junction with the full look of his face, he almost resembled to a little Jewish doll.

All she could do was gaze into his round face for a moment, and before he shook his head and moved out from her hands. She could see his chin trembling as he sank back down to the bed, down onto his back. He never opened his eyes, but she could see the tears on the brims.

“Lay flowers on the romance that happened between us,” he whispered as he rolled over onto his side so his back was towards the door.

Florence then rested a hand on his hip, and she gave him a gentle pat. She then slid her fingers up onto his side to feel the shape of his body. He was so slender, perhaps more so than when they were together. She thought of laying down next to him with her arms around his slim waist, just to feel how delicate he had become in the time. But she needed to find her husband and her best friend. She needed to find Eric and Francine, and she needed to bring the ship back to the Bay Area.

All Florence could do was lean down next to him and kiss him on the neck one last time.

“I have to go,” she whispered into his ear. “If I don’t come back, know that I always love you, baby.”

He made a soft whimpering noise in his throat at the sound of her calling him “baby”, the first time she called him that since they had been together. Florence never wanted to let him go, but she lifted herself up and let go of his hip, albeit at a slow pace. She wanted him to feel her fingers still on his body even when she had already gone.

Florence stepped back out to the hallway, now silent, and she hoped that Chuck and Mark were still down there near the hull, the engine room, and ultimately, the reactor. 

The echo. Look for the echo.

She once again rested a hand on her belly.

“Come on, little girl,” she muttered. “Let’s go find your daddy and Aunt Frankie.”

#flowers for alexander #flowers for alexander fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #chapter 30 #testament #testament fanfic #testament band #death angel #chuck billy #alex skolnick #mark osegueda #oc tag #sci fi #science fiction #sci fi writing #scifi #also on ao3 #writing #text #sci fi romance

[feverinfeveroutfic]

love is not enough | chapter twenty-two

It was nearly two o’clock by the time he had checked in for rehearsals with his band in the cozy venue on the edge of town. The warm sun washed over him in a rich wave of comfort in part of a contrast from the cool marine layer from earlier that morning: his helmet of black hair had grown warm already from the rays cast down upon his head, and a part of him thought about opening his shirt to feel more upon his skin.

He kept his guitar case slung over his shoulder, and his sunglasses perched upon the full tip of his nose, and the dress tucked underneath his arm as if he was lugging in a suitcase for himself. He couldn’t believe that he was actually going through with it all as he made his way to the dressing room behind the stage.

It felt so strange to go to rehearsal alone, given the girls had gone off to do some sort of assignment together. When in Ireland, after all.

He was the only one back there, which thus, bought him some time to get down and get undressed. He lay the dress on the seat of the chair, and then he stripped off his shirt and draped it over the back of the chair: he looked on at himself in the mirror for a moment, at the fine hair on his chest as well as on his slender little belly.

Unassuming but the naughty boy that had come out to play.

He leaned against the edge of the chair with one hand on his bare chest: he couldn’t explain it but something told him to seduce himself, to feel what those two girls had felt this whole entire time.

He ran his long guitar player’s fingers down the middle of his chest to his stomach, where he couldn’t believe the utter softness of his skin. Something about the way that he cocked out his hip, which in turn gave his body quite the nice little shape. His eyes locked onto those in the reflection, and he could in fact see where the fire came from, especially when he thought about everything that the girls had done for him.

With his other hand, and with his hips still cocked out a bit, he slowly ran his fingers through his black curls, and he could feel that infernal lust from within him, the feeling that whirred away like torrential water but raged at him like a growing fire.

He ran his hand down his stomach, all the way to his waist, and he knew that the dress would accentuate everything.

He thought about the hotel room where he hung out with Q and Jay the first time, and all the things that he had felt then. They were so easy to let slip away, and he never wanted them to slip away, either. 

If only he could feel this way forever, being worthy of that touch, of those kisses, of the sheer amount of euphoria that he couldn’t find anywhere else, not even with his old girlfriend.

His hands met up at his waist, to which he ran them down his hips, so shapely even for a boy, and then down his sinewy thighs.

He thought about opening up his pants to touch himself there, but not when his band mates were on their way, however: he needn’t be caught with his hands down the front of his jeans, although this time around, he had not a shred of weed or his parents within range of him.

Instead, he turned his attention to the dress, and he picked it up and put it on over his head: there was a zipper that traversed down his back and a hook at the base of his neck. It took him a bit of finagling, but he managed to fasten himself into the dress. He tugged on the collar over his head, and he fixed his hair all the while. The bodice was surprisingly loose on his otherwise broad chest, and the sleeves dangled off his finely tailored shoulders; the waist hugged his own while the skirt flowed off the top of his hips. Though it was specifically made for a woman, he wore it as if it had actually been crafted all for him.

He then turned to his guitar case, and he crouched down before the locks: it was a bit tricky given the skirt bunched up a bit around his knees and the snug denim of his jeans, but he managed to kneel down on the floor and reveal his guitar to the open air.

He let his long black curls dangle down over his shoulder as he picked out his amp and the accompanying cable; he then took out the pick from the strings and stood there, wrapped in the dress with his jeans on underneath and those ankle-high white shoes. He stood there with the guitar pressed against his little body and his foot down before him: he took a glimpse down to find that his pedal board had already been taken out there. And yet, he yearned for some effect of distortion.

Things were quiet as he warmed up a bit, but he knew that if he was to be seen out there, before the entirety of Ireland, he had to make a move.

He had an idea, albeit a crazy one, and one that didn’t involve going out and finding some booze to help him. He needed to focus on the matters at bay here.

He picked up his amp by the handle, and all the while, he never unplugged the cable from the box. He stepped out of the dressing room with his hands full, and yet, there was no one else around to help him out. Needless to say, he strode on towards the stage, tucked behind the otherwise intimate look of the long tomato-colored curtain: it took him a moment to realize that the tapestry itself glittered under the afternoon sunlight. He posted the amp up on the heavy, dark, polished hardwood floor of the stage itself, off to the far right side where he usually stood for the North American shows. Indeed, there was his pedal board, as well as a stand for his guitar to remain on display for the time being.

He turned the volume dial on the amp, and to where he strummed the guitar and the sound echoed over the pit area before him as well as the first two rows, vacant for rehearsal. He had faith that the sound guys would help him fill up the whole room with his symphonies.

But he took a step forward and strummed on the strings there on the body of the guitar. He raised his head for a view out to the nosebleeds: he pictured his parents and his brother up there with their arms held up high over their heads so he could see them. He knew that they could come to a show whenever they so pleased, and yet he itched to have them there.

It was then he knew that love was not enough in that sense.

He put his head down right as a gust of wind welled up before him, and the skirt billowed up behind him like that of a sail on a sailboat, but he didn’t mind: if anything, the updraft of wind up the skirt made its way up the inside of the bodice and onto his back. He knew that that would come in handy come that evening when the five of them had been performing for so long and each of them were hot and sweaty messes.

His black curls swept off behind his head as if he stood at the edge of the earth, and he launched into a solo, complete with both of his hands up on the fretboard. His long, thin, spidery fingers fluttered over the strings as if he beckoned fire upon them.

He gave his hair a toss, but a few coarse stray tendrils remained over the side of his face: the little plume of gray over the left side of his head fluttered as if it was a feather. He parted his lips as he thought about the feeling those two girls had bestowed upon him. All the euphoria he could ever imagine for himself as he parted his lips and closed his eyes.

Feeling as light as a feather, just like how his fingers glided as light as a feather.

“My goodness!”

He stopped and opened his eyes. Q stood off to the side there with a shawl wrapped around her shoulders.

“Hey!” he declared as he ran his fingers through his hair. “What’re you doing here?”

“Client and I finished early,” she replied as she ascended the short stairwell off to the side there. “I thought I’d swing by and—see how it goes in the wide, wide world of Tevye.” She gave her fine hair a bit of a shake as if she was about to go in for a modeling shoot.

He showed her a little grin as he crouched down and nudged the dials on the board.

“What’s all this?” she asked him.

“This is how I make magic happen beyond the strings,” he told her as he turned one dial. He then stood up and gently strummed to show her a wall of echo and reverb. “I can make it sound dirty like this. Or—” He stopped and turned the dial the other way, and then he tried again. “—it can be squeaky clean like my ass.”

Q giggled at that.

“I also got some overdrive and a wah pedal here, too,” he continued, “should the five of us dare to get funky tonight.”

“You should get funky,” she insisted. “Funky for me and Jay both.” She then licked her lips. “You got anything to drink?”

“Not here, no,” he confessed. “There’s plenty of stuff backstage, though. Here, come with me—”

He unslung his guitar off his shoulder and propped it upon the stand there on the side, and then he guided her to the backstage area for some water.

“You looked really edgy up here,” Q remarked. “Being in that dress and in those jeans.”

“Maybe I should do this for the next shows over in Edinburgh and Leeds,” he suggested, and he held the door of the dressing room for her.

“You’re just so… fearless and sexy,” she confessed to him, and she ran her finger down his chest as she strode on past him. He held still as she inched in closer to him. She never kissed him, but he showed her the tip of his tongue: his lips seemed redder as a result.

He shut the door, and she found the miniature fridge tucked over in the far corner. She took out a water bottle and shut the door with her leg. He watched her unscrew the cap and take a slow sip.

Q then sashayed her way back to him.

“Take off that dress and let’s get down with it, big boy,” she whispered into his ear.

“Where’s Jay?” he asked her with a smirk and a holding to his eyes in an attempt for that come-hither look.

“She wanted us to have our time together,” she assured her. “She’s talking to your lead singer right now. ‘Talking’.” She flashed him a wink, and he raised his eyebrows at her.

“Oh, my,” he breathed. “We do have time, after all.”

Q kissed him on the side of the neck, and he shivered at the feeling. She put her hands around his upper back to feel the zipper and the hook. He could feel her undoing the hook first, followed by the zipper: she ran the zipper pull down the crest of his spine towards the top of his jeans, and suddenly it made sense to him. He could feel the sleeves dropping down his shoulders and the tops of his arms. The bodice slid down his body towards his hips and it made so much sense to him.

“Oh, my god,” he whimpered, and he could feel Q putting her hand down his jeans. There was something cold and round in her hand, something that found its way onto the tip. It was a snug fit but he could feel it fitting him like a glove.

“What’s that?” he stammered out.

“Keep that on the next time you’re up on stage,” she whispered into his ear. “You leave what goes on with it all up to me.”

“I suppose you want me to wear tight leather, too.” His voice broke and he could feel his throat closing up from the feeling.

“If you want.” She lightly blew on the rim of his ear, which sent a deep chill down his spine, and that alone was enough to make the ring feel tight on his skin.

“Does Jay have something in store for me, too?” he stammered out.

“I’ll leave that for me to know and for you to find out.” She clasped her hands on the sides of his face for a soft kiss on the lips, followed by a bit of tongue. He could feel something metallic on his bare skin.

“What’s that?” he asked her between caresses.

“My secret weapon,” she replied. “And again, something for me to know and for you to find out.” She put her arms around him and pressed his back to the wall. He knew that they were going to be there a while.

#love is not enough #love is not enough fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #testament #testament fanfic #testament band #alex skolnick #oc tag #smut warning #smut writing #smut fic #also on ao3 #writing #text

[feverinfeveroutfic]

after we save the house next week, i’ll decide whether to keep the confectioner’s tale a one shot or expand it into a multi-chapter epic to tug at your heartstrings and your sweet tooth.

#!!!!!!!

[feverinfeveroutfic]

i can’t explain it but i have this sneaking suspicion that alex was just a victim of a hate crime (re: his facebook is persistently hacked)

or, this was the work of ai.

#😳 #really just… what if #and if this really is the case… nominate seasons grey for a pulitzer prize