#Ain't Them Bodies Saints | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

elvisabutler · 2 years

Text

gunmetal

summary: elvis loves his guns. you think he loves you. question is are those mutually exclusive. fandom: elvis presley | elvis 2022 pairing: elvis presley x female reader rating: m word count: 3328 not even remotely talking about it. it happened alright? warnings: gun kink. elvis's sexual issues. minor implied food kink maybe? use of a gun in penetrative ways. masturbation ( m and f ). implied future oral ( f ). older/later elvis described/implied. ( i'm not meaning that in a warning re: weight, it's more i do know that some would prefer to not interact with elvis as he was toward the end of his life in ways that are sexual ). minor daddy kink, as in reader calls elvis daddy and he refers himself as daddy. it's not super in your face. minor mommy kink on elvis's part. also unhealthy bdsm practices because you know, no one in this is necessarily fully sober/in good states of mind. just really y'all, this is a...ride. also thigh riding and squirting. author's note: okay. so let me explain myself. this gif is not indicative of the exact time frame for elvis i chose for this though have at it, pick austin elvis and 73ish as ya man here if you want. i definitely did not. so. i read a set of fics that had kinks i don't have in the slightest because i was curious ( because i've been in fandom/the internet too long and i look at dead dove don't eat on some fics and think it's a challenge ) and i faintly regret my choices with it. but it made me basically be like jimmie where i say things like "i don't know what i'm thinking". said fic set has wormed its way into my brain where it lives and tosses me like two pennies and a bit of lint for rent. this is the bit of lint. i am sorry for this. if y'all actually want another gun kink fic from me, i'll probably write it come november but i wanted to do something different with this. i don't know what this is. when i said unhinged, i didn't necessarily mean sexy. watch this be accidentally sexy. also hi, yeah this is day 13 of kinktober, gun kink with elvis. and yes i have had to edit this three times.

Elvis- You love Elvis. God help you and saints preserve you, but you love him. You love him enough that you forget how he can be, how you forget how he slowly is becoming a version of him that you're not sure you want to be with. He's possessive and mercurial on his best days, possessive and terrifying on his worst. Priscilla had warned you, Linda had warned you, they had both told you that Elvis takes and takes and takes and while he gives and gives and gives it's complicated. It's maybe never what you need.

You're giving though, you're the type of girl Elvis needs right now. Someone to keep him in check, to try and slide him into something inching toward health even as his body wants to rebel against him.

But Elvis takes, Elvis has desires that he'd keep unspoken for some girls. But Priscilla took it, Linda took it- his true girls- his girls he wanted to keep would take it. Would take what he wanted to give them. Elvis likes to combine the things he loves into something he figures is better than the two things apart. It's with his food, his music and truthfully his needs and wants in the bedroom. You're his girl and they're his girls and the values them more anything in the world other than little Lisa. They even outrank you and you know it. Girls may come and go but Elvis's guns? Oh those girls are forever, his personal harem to pick and choose from and keep close.

Elvis doesn't sleep well after shows, everyone has told you that from the second you said hello and he said ain't you the prettiest thing this side of the Mississippi. You are always riled up after shows, always a squirming mess he carts off to the bedroom the second he gets to the hotel. Some nights- like this particular night he's not up to the task of fucking you. A sign of his age, maybe a sign of how his body wants to betray him at the one thing he enjoys as much as- well as much he knows things are twisted in his head. He is hungry after the shows though and after this particular show he's got you in his lap, on one of his thighs, your body bouncing and grinding as you use its substantial size to provide pressure to your clit, to your cunt to every part of your body in between your legs. You're facing him and occasionally your hands drift down to his stomach, wanting to feel it, wanting to feel his chest and every part of him. He always gives you a look over his glasses before moving your hand back up to his arm. He can see your face starting to twist like he knows it does when you're heading toward your release, he's impressed tonight. Normally you require his fingers on your clit or pinching at your nipples. Maybe these big thighs were good for something, tonight.

"Make a mess of your Daddy, darlin'. Stain the jumpsuit, hm?" He murmurs into your ear before feeling you shudder against him, your body taking his words to be a command. He places a light kiss against your neck. You find that it feels sticky.

"Are you-" You start and pause, eyeing Elvis, watching him stare at you with those eyes that if nothing else- if all else fails him- would draw in even the strongest of individuals. "Do I need to help you?"

He hums before exhaling, shifting his body to get a little more comfortable on the chair he's sitting in. "Depends on your answer to my question."

"What is it?" You're genuinely curious, Elvis's eyes seem a little brighter today and you have hope tonight might be a good night for both of you.

His hands move to cup your face, pulling you in for a soft kiss. You have to climb up onto him a little from your position but you find you don't mind. From his pleased hum you can feel vibrate against your body you figure he doesn't mind either.

"I wanna see you play with my guns. One of my favorites. I'll take the ammo and everything out just for tonight." He can already picture it, picture you on the bed, him in this chair, his cock in his hand and you- and you on your shared hotel bed writhing as you brushed your clit against the metal. "'m not feeling up to fuckin' ya tonight, but I wanna come watching ya."

You force a smile on your face, it's not that you don't want to do it- it's a strange request, but not unwelcome- it's just you had hoped it would not be a take take take night and instead be a give give give night. "Which one, daddy?" You added daddy to see him smile.

It works.

He chose one with a long barrel, whispering as your ground your ass against him that it was to give you the length he knew you craved. Sure, you enjoyed his girth in more ways than one but sometimes it was just the length you needed. His pajama pants are down by his ankles as he settles into the chair and you allow your fingers to play with yourself, slowly getting yourself prepared for what you're going to do. You're always a little more wet than normal when you have Elvis watching you and tonight is surprisingly no exception. You never used to be like this, never used to be turned on at the thought of someone watching you but Elvis has a way of turning things you thought you knew about yourself on its head. His eyes are zeroed in on your cunt, watching your fingers disappear in and out, glistening ever so slightly with your juices and he can't help the low groan he lets out at it, his hand moving to lazily stroke his cock. Yes, he'd like to get off watching you on his gun, watching you come all over it like you did his thigh not even an hour before, like you have on his cock but he's not in a rush. Next show isn't even for another few days, so if he wants he could lay you out on this bed like the buffet you are and take his time savoring every last morsel and drop of you.

"What are you looking at?" You whisper a little breathlessly, two of your fingers teasing your clit like Elvis had many times before.

"You." He answers simply, his thumb brushing over his tip. "Watchin' how you're preppin' yourself. Thinkin' I oughta help, but there's somethin' about watching ya."

Your lips curl into a lazy smile. "You're always- You know I love it when you do. Maybe tomorrow morning you can play with me like this? Spread my pretty lips open and taste me. Maybe there will be a hint of the metal."

If a growl leaves his throat, if a growl leaves his throat and has him sounding like his Harley revving up, you and him don't comment on it. "Don't be a tease, baby. Think you might be prepped enough. It's thinner than me, 'member that."

You hum before letting out a heavy and mildly overexaggerated sigh. "I guess you're right." Your hand encircles the grip of gun, noting how cold it is with a shiver. Your eyes look up at Elvis before you tilt your head and drag the barrel across your skin, starting from your neck and moving down to your chest, letting the cool metal brush against your overheated skin. "It's cold."

He gulps as he pumps his cock, watching how your npples pebble after the barrel swipes by them. If he could, if he wanted to get up from this chair, he's walk over to you and warm them up, take your nipples in his mouth and suck on them, bite at them, watch you keen and writhe against him. He won't though, because he just wants to watch you.

When you finally reach your cunt, you practically jump at the first brush of the metal against your cunt. You think maybe you should have sucked on it first, given it some warmth before you had it touch you, but it was too late for that. You take a deep breath and look at Elvis unblinking as you slowly shove the barrel of the gun into your cunt. If you were closer to him you'd likely see how the blue of his eyes is completely taken over by the black of his pupil, you'd see how his mouth has dried out from the small pants he can't stop himself from taking and you'd notice how he looks- he looks like he does onstage. He looks completely full of life and ready to strike at the one person he has in his gaze. You.

His breath is shallow the longer he looks, the longer he looks and pumps himself, the precum covering his cock, his jar of lube unused for him. "Goddamn, little one, you should see- drive a man wild, fucking yourself on his gun. Gonna smell like you, won't be able to be at the range without remembering you- won't be able to shoot it without remembering this. Gonna have to explain to the boys why I popped a boner like a fuckin' teenager."

You huff out a laugh, your body letting out a shiver as it tries to adjust to the intrusion of something you're not used to. "Don't wear such tight pants and they won't know. Is this going to be your new favorite?"

He nods. "Gonna have it tucked in somewhere every damn show. Maybe it'll be a good luck charm."

A good luck charm for you and him, a sign that you two will last like him and 'Cilla didn't, like him and Linda didn't. You did this for him, they didn't, they had- your limits are always far more malleable than theirs were. Not a bad thing but it give him some hope.

You pull the barrel out of your cunt and press it against your swollen clit, hissing as you do. "Christ, Daddy, I didn't realize I'd be so sensitive. I'm- how close are you?"

You want to come, but he hasn't and you refuse to be that greedy, not for him right now. Not for him when he's having a good night, not a great night, but a good one and you want to savor it. If you're trying not to move the gun, letting the barrel stay pressed against your clit in order to stave off your impeding orgasm he doesn't say anything.

His hand moves faster, knowing that he is pretty close, he wants to come for you, wants to show you what you've done to him, how you've made him feel. "Talk me through it, Mama."

Your eyes had slipped closed as you lost yourself in the sensations of the metal, the smell of your arousal and sex in the room, the taste of what Elvis had been eating earlier lingering on your tongue. Your eyes had been closed but they shoot open at the word Mama. He was- oh, he was in that sort of mood. Oh, you could oblige.

"Talk you through it, sweetheart? Talk you through how Mama wants to see you come? I worked hard, I took your gun for you. Would have taken it all night for you but your thigh- You let Mama come on your thigh earlier, she doesn't have that many in her tonight." Your voice is practically a murmur but you know Elvis can hear you, can hear how you sound how your voice has an edge of neediness. "I need you to come so I can, sweetheart. You don't need to wait. The sooner you do it, the sooner we can clean up and we can go to sleep. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Us taking care of each other like that tonight. You did good tonight, just like I did. Come for Mama, Elvis, show me how much you appreciate me."

That does it, you asking him to show how much he appreciates you doing this, how much he appreciates you in his life. He comes with a groan, coating his hand and the towel he had put underneath him with his come. He doesn't say anything, doesn't have the energy to, his head lulling to the side a little as he watches you finally move the gun, finally allow it to press against your clit- rub against your clit in a way that has you shivering. You're close and you know that you could likely come without the penetration, you should come without it, but you decide at the last second to slide the gun barrel back inside you as you flutter around it, coming with a hiss because everything is so overwhelming that your throat can't even manage anything else. When you pull the gun out it's covered in your fluids, glistening in the light of the room. You look at the sheets and realize you might have squirted. A bit of shame twists in your gut at that, because this what what made you squirt? Fucking yourself on your boyfriend's gun? What kind of woman were you? Elvis still hasn't gotten up from the chair, his eyes lazily moving between you, the gun and the wet spot. His lips curl into a smirk.

"Ruined the sheets and my jumpsuit. Ain't you a menace to fabrics." He whispers as you stand up and move towards him. You stop and hold out your hand to pull him up from the chair. He eyes it and shakes his head. You keep it there until he takes it with a huff, stepping completely out of his pants as he does.

"I'm your menace, Elvis. Shower?" You hold his hand, linking your fingers together as you lead him to the bathroom.

"Then bed. Gonna let me lay on ya chest tonight?" He asks, pulling you closer to him, his arms wrapping around you like he's that teddy bear he sang about almost two decades ago.

"If it helps you sleep tonight, yeah." A pause. "Love you."

A low hum and a kiss to your temple is the only answer you get back. You'll take it for now.

#elvis presley x reader #elvis presley smut #elvis presley fanfic #i very specifically did not include a lot of tags in this.#i am.#i really did almost just hide this on my ao3.#ally's kinktober 2022 #kinktober 2022 #ally writes #i don't know what this fic even is i truly don't.#WHY I WROTE THIS FOR KINKTOBER I WILL NOT UNDERSTAND.#also no i didn't have an oops when i copy and pasted why do y'all ask.

390 notes · View notes

theroseandthebeast · 4 months

Text

Yuletide 2023 Recs, Batch One

the most wonderful time of the year is here again!

16 recs for 11th CE RPF/Crusader Kings 3, The Addams Family, Ancient Egyptian RPF, Aquaman, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, Barbie the Movie, The Bear, Beyond Evil, Black Books, and The Black Tapes

Matilda di Canossa Presents: Succession Planning for Dummies, Gen, Matilde di Canossa | Matilda of Tuscany

It’s always, “dear God in heaven, Matilda, how could you have eaten the pope?” and never “how was eating the pope; did the pope taste good?”

So Nice, Gen, Pubert Addams

Pubert was a different kind of Addams. OR What happens when the golden-haired angelic baby never reverted back to his little moustachioed self.

Beloved of Aten, Amenhotep IV | Akhenaten/Nefertiti of Egypt + Meritaten of Egypt/Smenkhkare of Egypt

Meriaten is beloved. By her parents. By the Aten. All is secure and as is it should be. Her father has revealed the truth of the world. The sun disk that can clearly be seen in the sky is no secret. She is beloved. She speaks the truth of Aten.

daughter of Xebel, Gen, Nereus & Mera

Y'Mera Xebella Challa is a daughter of Xebel before she is anything else.

Happiness is a Warm Gun, Lucy Gray Baird/Coriolanus Snow

"I'm looking out for you, too. I'll find a way," he promises. Coriolanus teaches Lucy Gray to shoot a gun.

saint sebastian, filled with arrows, Lucy Gray Baird/Coriolanus Snow

Coriolanus stares at it. Then he stares at her. She can see his imprecision again, the flicker of something untrustworthy beneath all the gold hair and famous lineage. “What should I do with it?” he asks, pliant, one last bid for direction. Lucy Gray kisses him again. “Come back to me,” she orders. “Do whatever you have to do to come back to me, Coriolanus Snow.” - (Coriolanus Snow wins the 10th annual Hunger Games with the help of his mentor, Lucy Gray Baird.)

Like My Head Against A Board, Allan/Ryan Gosling's Ken

Allan lends a helping hand.

to let the next life off the hook, Margot Robbie's Barbie/Gloria

Barbie’s not the only one who has a past life. When Gloria faces hers, everything changes - for both of them.

to recreate us, Luca/Marcus

After he left Copenhagen, Marcus never thought he'd see Luca again.

maillard reaction, Sydney Adamu/Richard "Richie" Jerimovich

There’s no more restaurant to manage, no more food to cook, and Syd doesn’t really know what to do with her body, except fuck Richie, apparently.

in every heart there is a room, Sydney Adamu/Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto

“Chef,” Carmy says softly, “it’s just for a few hours.” “A few hours?! A single minute of catering brunch is going to make me a suicide risk, Chef!” “I’ll be there with you. Chef.” Sydney doesn’t look like she forgives him, exactly, but her dire expression loosens up, just a little bit. In which Cicero calls in a favor, hollandaise is made, and Sydney makes a promise.

acquired taste, Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto/Luca

Before Copenhagen, there was Chicago.

Heaven Ain't Close in a Place Like This, Han Joo Won/Lee Dong Sik

Chained to a radiator in a warehouse, his lips cracking like tissue paper from lack of water, Han Juwon can admit that he might have fucked up.

Steal Your Breath Away, Han Joo Won/Lee Dong Sik

Han Juwon calls in a veritable litany of favors until he gets what he’s after: Lee Dongsik in handcuffs, alone in an interrogation room.

Three Sheets to the Wind, Manny Bianco/Bernard Black/Fran Katzenjammer

A customer mistakes Fran, Manny, and Bernard for a throuple. They start to wonder if it's true.

Unheard, Unsought For, Or Unseen, Alex Reagan/Richard Strand

Richard Strand has been in love before, of course. He’s not sure he’s ever felt like this. Three moments, throughout the course of working with Miss Alex Reagan on The Black Tapes Podcast, when Richard Strand learns that he is utterly wrong about something he thought he knew.

#yuletide #yuletide 2023 #fic recs #crusader kings 3 #the addams family #ancient egyptian rpf #aquaman #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #barbie the movie #the bear #beyond evil #black books #the black tapes #fic rec

20 notes · View notes

surrogate-fawn · 10 months

Text

Quartz and Sea Glass

((Drabble/Short story based on the backstory a rp with @mittysins of Fawn's first step into the world of surrogacy.))

{This drabble is a sequel to "The First Goodbye" and is Part Two of a planned series based on the rp between Mitty and I. This drabble will not make sense without the context of Part One.}

TW: Mentioned miscarriage/stillbirth, infertility, family abandonment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Don't put me on a pedestal for what I decided to do with my life. I ain't a saint.

I'll fully admit that I became a surrogate for selfish reasons. When I discovered there was a market out there of couples who needed a healthy body to carry their baby, I did not give a single shit about helping them -- all I cared about was the money.

I was twenty years old and homeless, still living off minimum wage. Can 'ya really blame me?

Lord only knows how that little worm of an idea got into my brain. Maybe it was during a mindless re-watch of season four of Friends. Maybe it was seeing something on the news. Or maybe it was during one of those three-in-the-morning anxiety attacks -- the ones that had me scribbling down as many outlandish solutions to my life as could fit on a napkin.

Not a lot of good ideas came about that way.

However it got there, one day I found myself seated at a library computer searching up as much information as I could find about surrogacy. As soon as I saw the rates some of these couples were willing to pay, I was sold. Fifty to sixty grand -- paid over the span of months. That sure as hell beat $7.25 an hour! The fact I could be eligible for certain state benefits on top of that money didn't hurt, either.

Best part? The one obstacle that could've been in my way had been crashed down a year ago: at least one healthy and successful prior pregnancy.

This was it. This was my way out!

But I hesitated.

As I sat there, staring at the Google search results that led me down the rabbit hole, I wondered if I was really capable of going through it all again. Not so much the physical symptoms, those all passed as soon as the pregnancy was over.

I was wondering if I could handle saying goodbye again.

My son's first birthday had just passed. I'd put a candle in a cupcake and blown it out for him the day of, alone in my room and still in my UDF uniform after work. I'd wished I'd known what name they gave him. The "Happy Birthday" song is a 'lil hard to sing without a name. I'd just called him "my baby" in the song. At least it fit. He would always be my baby, wherever he was and whatever he was called.

I blinked at the blue-tinted monitor. The screen was getting fuzzy and my eyes were stinging. I force-closed the dozens of tabs I had open, shut the computer off, and began my walk back to the women's shelter.

No, I couldn't. Money or no money, I couldn't go through it again. I never...never wanted to go through it again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A week later, I made another trip to the library to borrow some time at the computer. I couldn't afford a laptop or smartphone, so it was a trip I usually made every other day; but work had been leaving me too tired to swing by.

I found an email waiting for me in my inbox, from a surrogate agency site I remembered looking up. In my mad scrolling, I must have signed up for their mailing list without thinking about it. It was from the highest-rated site I'd found, so at least I didn't have to worry about it being a phishing scam or tied to some baby black market or whatever.

I almost deleted it out of reflex, but the subject line read: "The Basics of Surrogacy, Free Information Guide". A brochure? Not an ad pressuring me to join so they could start taking a cut of my pay? Sure, I'd take a brochure.

So, that was the moment I made the best decision of my life: I opened that email.

I'll spare you the business side of things, but once I got in touch with the agency it all started falling into place. The whole process was much more voluntary than I realized. I spoke with several surrogate mothers who had been matched with clients through the site, and they all stood firm that nothing was done unless both the surrogate and the parents agreed to it. I would have a say in who I matched with. I would have a say in how much I was to be paid. I would even have a say in what the birthing experience would be like!

What finally sealed the deal for me, though, was the fact this company only dealt with what I learned were called "gestational surrogacies" -- meaning none of their surrogates were the biological parents of the babies they carried. I'd have someone else's egg inside me -- I would essentially be a walking incubator. That sounds kinda weird when you think about it, but it solved the biggest issue I had with tapping into this gold mine.

Not my baby? Not my DNA? Fine by me. I decided I'd gladly get paid fifty grand to sit around and grow someone else's kid. Sounded like the easiest job in the world.

I sent my application in two days later.

Two months, a psychiatric assessment, and dozens of medical tests later, I was in.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Tariqs weren't the first couple who asked to meet with me. There were two other couples I had a first meeting with, but neither of them clicked with me the way Ray and Tess did.

We met for the first time at a park situated alongside the Tennessee River, bundled in jackets to keep out the early-autumn chill. There just so happened to be a food truck parked by the entrance we agreed to meet at, and Tess declared we should get to know each other over lunch. Seeing as I had skipped breakfast to make it to work on time, I didn't mind the idea.

I was standing off to the side while the Tariqs ordered from the truck, counting out the amount of cash I had on me, when suddenly I heard Tess call me over.

"Which one 'ya want, shug?" she asked, pointing to the menu plastered on the truck's side.

They bought me a chicken panini and a hot hazelnut macchiato, insisting it was their treat. If it were up to me, I wouldn't have needed the rest of that interview -- I had already chosen to be their surrogate in my head.

Buying me food is a fantastic way to get to get me to like you.

We sat at a picnic table beneath the golden oak trees and got to talking. Raymond (or Ray, as he preferred to be called) was a second-generation Indian immigrant and Tess, his wife, was a born-and-bred Knoxville gal. They lived on the rural side of Knoxville, just barely inside the city limits, in a 1960's farmhouse they'd refurbished themselves. Both were in their mid-thirties by the time they sought out surrogacy; up until that point, they'd been though quite a battle with infertility:

They'd been trying throughout their four years of marriage, but Tess could never carry to term. The few times her pregnancy tests would come up positive, she'd bleed a few weeks later. Although they weren't opposed to modern medicine, they'd preferred to try more "natural" methods to solve their fertility issue before going to a doctor. Such methods included the Kama Sutra, meditation, crystals, herbal blends and -- of course -- prayer.

Just the year prior, it seemed their home remedies had worked when Tess finally made it into the second trimester with a baby boy.

They'd lost him in a stillbirth days before the third trimester milestone.

Piled onto that tragedy, the hospital discovered Tess had a defective uterus -- it was physically impossible for her to carry to term. So, that's where I came in.

As I told them about myself, they were delighted to know I came from a household that had rather New Age ideas about life. I didn't mention that I no longer lived by those ideas -- it would've opened too many questions.

However, I certainly understood the good home remedies could do! I was more than happy to trade my recipes for salves for Ray's tips on where to buy the best beeswax in Knoxville. So happy, in fact, that I got carried away.

"My mom makes beeswax candles," I said, hurrying to swallow the bite of panini I had in my mouth. "She used to scent 'em with oils from her flowers, but the oil would seep right outta the wax once it got warm." I chuckled, feeling my nose crinkle in the embarrassing way it does when I laugh. "Sometimes, at dinner, we'd light one of her candles at the table. We'd blink and suddenly there'd be a puddle of rose oil dripping onto the beans and cornbread!"

"Maybe I can help her out with that," Ray said with a grin. He took a quick sip of his coffee. "My grandparents keep bees over in India. My family has a lot of tips on how to melt and mix the wax."

I almost choked on my food when I realized I'd brought up my family. Shit...now I had to be careful.

"Maybe," I said with a causal shrug. "She's back home in West Viginia with everyone else. It's a little hard to make time to see 'em."

"Oh, I'm sure," Tess nodded. "It's the same with my daddy's side of the family. We're just so far apart we forget 'ta check up on each other as often as we should." She finished off the last of her bagel. "And with you, Fawn, you work full time with a little 'un at home. I'm sure 'ya family understands."

I didn't blink for a while. I just stared at the river until the cold breeze dried my eyes out. "Oh, well..." I cleared my throat, "I don't have a little one at home."

Tess looked confused. Ray looked mortified.

"But it says on 'ya file you were pregnant last year?" Tess half-asked, half-stated. I could tell from her tone that there was no malice in her. She'd clearly read my profile and made assumptions.

I smiled, maybe showing a little too much teeth. "Yeah, I was. Very healthy pregnancy, very healthy baby boy, but I don't have a little one at home."

Ray put his hand over his wife's wrist, his sea glass bracelet quietly clattering on the wooden table. Tess went pale and her look of confusion faded into a silent scream.

"Oh. I'm...I'm sorry," she stammered. "I didn't mean 'ta-."

"No, no! I don't mind bringing him up!" I said, a nervous laugh jittering my lungs. "I never get the chance to talk about my son, but I think about him all the time!"

I surprised myself when the expected sorrow didn't come. Instead, excitement filled its place -- an odd sense of relief that I could let out some of the thoughts that had been haunting me.

I proceeded to word-vomit about how wonderful it was to be pregnant with my son, and how angelic his parents were to me, and how I knew he would be okay -- even if I missed him -- and so forth and so on. I honestly don't think I stopped for breath.

I saw Ray and Tess glance at each other from the corners of their eyes as I rambled, a pair of knowing grins on their faces.

I'm no mind reader, but I think that's when the Tariqs made their final decision.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tess was with me for the embryo transfer, her ring-laden hand resting on my arm as everything was prepped. I was bloated as a water balloon from the multiple fertility drugs I'd been plunging into my veins -- every day, might I add -- for the past month. I sure was hoping those suckers worked, because being in a permanent state of PMS was ass. Total ass.

I reclined on the exam table, legs up in those familiar stirrups and my hips covered by a thin sheet of paper. I inhaled through my nose as the doctor inserted a long, thin tube of plastic through the ring of my cervix -- the end of which was attached to a syringe full of clear fluid. Somewhere in that syringe, three little embryos floated around -- and one of them was hopefully about to nestle into its new home.

I watched the fuzzy grey blurs on the ultrasound screen as the doctor angled the wand to see what he was doing. As I watched each of the three tiny balls leave the tube...I just hoped those fertility drugs didn't work too well.

Tess grinned down at me once it was over, her blonde braid falling over her shoulder. "We got three good un's in there," she said. I noticed she was clutching the quartz pendant around her neck like a string of prayer beads. "I'm sure one of 'em will like 'ya enough 'ta stick around."

I think she was just as worried as I was. Tess's egg retrieval, the test tube fertilization, the freezing, and my daily injections all combined into almost three months of prep work just for this ten-minute procedure.

And if it failed, we'd have to do it all over again. And if that failed, we'd do it again. And again.

"Yeah," I sighed, lowering my legs from the stirrups, "I hope you're right, Tess. 'Cause if not, I swear to God I'm gonna have-."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"A girl!" Tess screeched to the high heavens, throwing herself against Ray in an attack hug. She jumped for joy while hanging from his neck, almost pulling the poor man to the floor. "It's a girl, Ray! We're havin' a girl!"

Ray laughed, backing up from the table so his wife didn't mule kick the ultrasound technician. "I don't know, Fawn," he said, looking my way with a huge smile and a raised eyebrow. "Do you think it's a girl?"

"Not sure," I said, my nose crinkling in a snicker, "but I think Tess said something about it being a girl."

"Shuddup you two," Tess giggled, sniffling as tears began falling down her cheeks.

Ray held his wife's face in his hands and gave her a kiss deep enough to explore the sea floor. The technician and I decided to focus on the ultrasound images to give the couple some privacy.

I craned my neck to look up at the screen. What had been a microscopic ball four months ago was now an apple-sized baby girl with wiggling arms and legs, and -- thank God -- there was only her in there. The other two embryos had never taken, but this rowdy little girl had held tight. I smiled as I watched the rapid flutter of her heart beating, amazed at the sight. I remembered being just as amazed by my son's heartbeat, what few times I'd gotten to see it.

"Look how active she is!" the technician said, pointing to the baby's constant wiggling. "You should be feeling those little dance moves of hers very soon."

Ray and Tess returned to admire the fuzzy images on the screen. Tess was drying her eyes on her sleeves, and Ray's smile may as well have been glowing. He had his arm around Tess's shoulders as they watched the miniature dance party going on inside me. The sea glass bracelet rattled as his hand came to rest over his heart.

"That's our daughter, Tess," he said. His voice broke a bit as he repeated: "That's our daughter."

"Yep," Tess sniffled, hugging her husband's torso and resting her head on his shoulder, "that's her."

I watched them hold each other like that until the technician turned off the wand and wiped the gel from my slightly rounded belly.

The Tariqs had already begun the steady payment plan we'd agreed to. Even after the agency took its cut each month, it was still more than I'd ever made in my life. That had been why I'd agreed to do this for them, after all.

That ultrasound appointment is what changed my outlook on what I was doing.

These two people. These two amazing people, so overcome with joy because I was carrying the baby that they could not.

I wasn't an incubator anymore. I felt more like a nanny, protecting their baby for them until she was strong enough to come out. They'd wanted this baby for so, so long -- and I was the one making that dream of theirs come true.

I knew what it was like to desperately want to hold a baby you were unable to have. I may not have been able to heal my own hurt, but here I was...healing theirs.

I wasn't doing it for the money after that.

I never did it for the money again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Five days after my twenty-first birthday, I woke up to a rather nasty surprise at one in the morning. I'd gotten kicked in the bladder, and my bedsheets and pajama bottoms were damp and sticking to my skin in the humid July air. Fantastic. Not again.

With a groan, I rolled out of bed and started shuffling my way to my door. I held the weight of my belly in my arms as I made my way to the upstairs communal bathroom, hoping to take the pressure off my hips.

I blinked against the harsh florescent light as it sputtered to life over the toilet. With a gruff sigh, I shut and locked the door.

"Suri, you gotta stop doing this," I slurred, my mouth too tired to move. "I'm letting you use my uterus as a bed and breakfast. The least you could do is not try to pop my bladder every night."

Surinder. Her name was Surinder, but we'd been calling her Suri for short. Ray picked it out. He liked it because it was based on the name of a Hindu god and also sounded like the word 'surrender' in English. Tess had fallen in love with the name. Me? I would've just stuck with 'Suri'. I knew exactly what kind of teasing she was in for at school with a name like 'Surinder'.

You can't exactly walk into public school with a name like 'Fawn' and not get laughed into oblivion.

At least the nickname gave her an extra name to fall back on. If that didn't work, she also had her middle name to use: Elora. I would've done the same back in high school -- I did have three to pick from -- but 'Aspen', 'Coriander', and 'Medulla' wouldn't have made the teasing any better.

I'd gone in at age eighteen and erased two of those names. It was just "Fawn Coriander Sequioa" now. Still not a normal name by any means. I often thought about going back into the records and legally changing my last name, just like my parents had done when they'd joined the commune before I was born.

I didn't need my last name. My family didn't want me anymore.

Alexander may have opened up a whole new world for me, but he made sure I burned every bridge behind me as I crossed it. I was already beginning to question my parents' worldview by the time I started dating him, but he took that little spark of doubt -- a spark that, if left alone, would've grown into a steady burn-away of my old ideals -- and fanned those embers into an uncontrollable hatred.

"They're a cult, babe," he'd told me. "Why can't you see that? I can take you away from that bullshit that says you gotta fuck other guys to be happy. I only want what's best for you, and for us."

After months of letting my teenaged angst and frustration boil over, it happened. An argument started between Mom and I over something asinine, and the geyser fucking exploded.

I parroted everything Alexander had been telling me. I told my parents they were nothing but sexual perverts who wanted me to be a whore all my life. I told them how their "woo-woo" medicine got kids killed all over the country, and that blood was on their hands. I told them how much they'd fucked up in raising me.

I told them I hated them.

I told Dad I hoped the next woman who sucked his dick bit it off.

I told Mom that if it was her, I hoped she died choking on it.

The last time I saw Dad, he was throwing everything I owned out of my bedroom window until I was on the sidewalk surrounded by broken furniture and muddy clothes.

The last time I saw Mom, she was sobbing face-down on the couch and refusing to look at me.

Even now, I would be willing sell my soul -- to lay down and die -- just to undo what I did that day.

I didn't give a shit at the time, though. I picked up what I could carry off the front lawn and walked to the nearest payphone to call Alex. I had to tell him I was finally free.

Free.

Right.

What a fucking joke.

I splashed some cold water on my face to wash off the nighttime sweat. Suri rolled one of her feet against the top of my belly, causing a little moving bump that I playfully poked with my finger.

"I'm going to bill you for all those crazy dance parties you're having in there, missy," I said with a grin, a lot less frustrated with her than I was a second ago.

I grabbed a washcloth to start cleaning myself off, but the realization dawned on me and I stopped cold. That was her foot. Her foot was at the top of my belly...which meant her head was angled down...which meant there was no way she'd kicked my bladder.

As I stood at the sink trying to solve that puzzle, I found the missing piece. My belly clamped down hard enough to pitch me forward. I grabbed onto the sides of the sink with a small gasp, feeling the muscles of my torso all tighten and shrink in the direction of my uterus. As it did, a little more dampness spread across my pajama pants.

Oh fuck.

Oh, holy fuck!

I left the bathroom in as much of a jog as I could manage, rushing back into my room and to the brand-new cell phone charging by the window. I had no idea how to save numbers on that thing, so I manually dialed Ray's number. His was the only one I could remember.

The other side of the call rang for a solid thirty seconds before Ray's sleep-drunk voice picked up:

"Hello?" he grumbled. "Who is this?"

Oh, right. He probably didn't have my new number saved, either.

"Ray, it's Fawn," I said, noticing too late that my voice was trembling. "You and Tess need to come pick me up...like right now!"

I heard a rustle on the other end, and suddenly Ray sounded very much awake. "Fawn? Fawn, what's wrong?!" I thought I heard Tess say something nearby, probably on the other side of their bed. "Why do you need us to get you?! Suri isn't due for another two weeks!"

"She...she had other plans," I said, taking a deep breath to steel my nerves. "My water just broke."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ray's face was illuminated by the highway streetlights as he glanced back at Tess and I in the backseat of the car. "How's it going back there?" he asked, flicking his gaze between us and the road.

"Aughh!" I groaned in response as a contraction stole my ability to speak. I tried to lift my hips off the leather seat as more fluid leaked from me, but the seatbelt held me down. I was already sitting in a small puddle of it, and I was worried I was ruining their upholstery. I was still dressed in my pajamas, but I considered them a lost cause.

"We're doin' fine," Tess said, slipping her hand into mine so I could squeeze it -- which I did. "Focus on the road, Ray."

Tess had buckled herself into the middle seat of the minivan, giving her enough room to tend to me while I was strapped in the window seat. I sat with my legs as far apart as the seatbelt would allow. I could already feel the baby pressing through my cervix, and I recognized the pounding pressure that came with it.

The contraction lasted about forty seconds, and it left me reeling and panting. I had no idea when to expect the next one. "Why is this happening so fast?!" I asked, my voice shrill with anxiety. "I was in labor for over a day last time!"

"It's probably not happenin' as fast as 'ya think, doll," Tess assured me, giving my hand a pat. "You could'a slept through most of early labor. Second baby always comes faster than the first, 'ya know."

No. No, I did not know!

"Tessie, how close did the doula say she was?" Ray asked, obeying his wife and not taking his eyes off the road that time.

Tess's face was bathed in white light as she quickly checked her phone. "Ten minutes," she said. "She'll be waiting outside the house when we get there."

Just before she put her phone away, I saw her clutching the quartz pendant again.

Just as promised, the doula was parked outside the Tariqs' farmhouse when we got there. She climbed out of her car as soon as our headlights lit up the gravel driveway. Ray parked the minivan with a lurch and jumped out to start helping her carry things into the house.

Tess helped me out of the car, letting me use her as a crutch as we hobbled up the front steps.

"You ready 'ta do this, Fawn?" she asked.

"Are you ready to do this?" I rebutted.

Tess paused for a second, and then rubbed my lower back as we reached the porch. "Not really," she said, "but no one ever is."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Turns out, I wasn't as deep into active labor as I thought I was. In fact, I'd barely started it. The doula told me I was six centimeters dilated, and that I'd likely been in labor for close to twelve hours at that point.

"No, that's not possible," I protested from my reclined position on the sofa. "I wasn't having contractions until now."

"Trust me, you were," the doula grinned from her place between my knees. She slipped off her blue latex gloves and tossed them in the trash as she stood up. "I'm willing to bet they were just really mild up until you started leaking."

It was a relief to know my water breaking didn't mean I was going to deliver right there and then; but it also sucked knowing I was still in for a long ride.

I spent the rest of that night laboring around the farmhouse. It was so nice to not be stuck in a hospital room that time. I was free to do as I pleased, which Ray and Tess were sure to make clear.

Ray opened a few of the windows to let the sounds of crickets and frogs in, as well as the sweet-smelling breeze of the countryside. Meanwhile, Tess made it her life's mission to make me as cozy as possible -- no matter where I ended up. Thanks to her, pillows followed me from the sofa to the floor, from the floor to the recliner, and then back to the sofa.

Eventually, I got too restless to sit still and I needed to be upright. I was on my feet for the rest of active labor, hanging from the edges of furniture or leaning on either Tess or Ray for support during the contractions. Neither of them minded a bit.

It didn't hurt any less than the first time I went into labor. At times, I was so overcome by the increasing horrible sensations that I began screaming. Each time that happened, either Tess or Ray (whichever I was currently clinging to) would wrap their arms around me and the other would redirect my focus.

"Look at me, doll," Tess said, taking my face in her hands while Ray held me upright.

I was hyperventilating and sobbing my way through a nasty contraction and had forgotten how to use my legs.

"Look at me," she repeated gently. "Focus on my face. See my eyes? My nose? My mouth?" she pointed to each feature as she listed them. "Just think about what'cha see. Think about every detail 'ya can."

It was a technique that sounded stupid on paper, but in practice it was very effective at keeping me grounded. If I counted each of Tess's eyelashes or tried to trace the shape of her mouth in my mind's eye, then I didn't focus on the pain.

I could do it. I knew I could. I'd done this whole song and dance before without painkillers. I could do it again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At ten in the morning, eight hours after arriving at the house, I finally felt the shift that told me I was almost done with this.

I was kneeling on the hardwood floor of the living room, my thighs supported by the shallow birthing stool the doula had brought. Beneath me was an absorbent blue pad. Based on the design of the packaging it was pulled it from, it was supposed to be for potty training puppies. Weird...but if it worked, it worked -- and it was certainly needed. The head was descending quicky, and a few bloody strands of cervical mucus were dripping from me as the last of it gave way.

I'd shed the damp pajamas I came in, but the sweat rolling down my back made me shiver each time an outdoor breeze came through. Tess draped a thin blanket over my shoulders and stayed at my back, her hands never leaving my upper arms as I bowed my head and wailed through a transition contraction.

Ray knelt a few feet in front of me, the doula at his side. He looked a strange mixture of nauseous and excited -- we had decided he would be the one to catch the baby, and the doula was talking him through the process ahead of time. I noticed he was holding a hand to his heart as he listened to her, the sea glass bracelet hanging from his wrist.

We all knew it was about to happen.

When the head finally lodged itself into my birth canal, I said nothing. I just acted. I gripped the front edges of the foot-tall birthing stool and let out a feral growl as I started to push. A chorus of encouragement came from the people around me:

"That's it, doll! C'mon!"

"Go with the urge, Fawn. You've got this!"

"Very good, that's what we like to see."

Having gravity on my side this time made pushing feel much less like a chore. I could feel Suri working her way down each push I gave, and she usually stayed where she was once I let up. Kneeling on the stool seemed to be easing her down exactly where she needed to go.

I let out a yelp -- of surprise more than pain -- as I suddenly felt her head pressing against the skin of my perineum. The pressure opened my lips up like a flower, and the doula shined a flashlight underneath me to confirm her head was visible just inside the bulge of my lips, sitting there ready to crown with the next push.

And holy fuck, did she crown! The burn started the second her scalp met the outside air.

"Oww! God-fucking-damn it!" I white-knuckled the wooden stool, a strangled scream leaving my throat as I felt the head bulge out further, peeling my vagina apart like some demented fruit.

Ray scooted closer, rubbing alcohol up and down his arms in preparation to catch. With the doula watching over his shoulder and aiming a flashlight down so he could see, Ray slipped his hands beneath me. I felt his fingers prodding the skin around the head.

"Just like that, yes," the doula told him. "Help her open, this baby seems to be eager."

"No shit!" I roared, my arms trembling as another push sent the head rushing downward. "Fuck!"

I felt Ray's fingers trace the circumference of his daughter's head as more of it emerged, heard the quiet squelching of the afterbirth coating his fingers. When I no longer had the contraction to help me, I let up. Ray kept trying to massage my vagina open, even as I was trying to rest.

"Stop!" I snapped, and he withdrew.

Tess was hiding behind me, her hands on my shoulders the only reminder she was there. She peeked over my shoulder at her husband during the brief lull in my screaming.

"How far is she out?" she asked, unable to see for herself.

The doula craned her neck. "Almost fully crowned."

"She has so much hair," Ray said with a breathy laugh.

"She does," the doula agreed with a grin. "Her daddy's hair, too. Very dark."

I tilted my head to the side, panting heavily but morbidly curious. "Can...can I feel?" I asked.

The doula took my hand and lead it below my belly. I gasped in awe when I touched the hot, gooey ball of hair sticking out from my body.

"Woah..." I muttered, not sure what to else to say.

My fingertips wandered between my legs for a few seconds, and it was both fascinating and horrifying how my anatomy felt nothing like my own body. Everything was stretched and moved around, and it didn't feel like I was touching anything resembling a human body part -- save for the head sitting where a head shouldn't be. Frightened, I pulled my hand back just in time to bear down against a new contraction.

"Hands out, Ray," the doula gently encouraged. "Here she comes."

I felt Tess press her forehead into my upper back. I think she was feeling faint.

"Ah!" A sharp cry, almost a bark, shot from me as the head reached a full crown for a few terrible seconds. Then, with a wet slip, her whole head came free.

"Holy Mother Gaia..." Ray marveled in a half-whisper. His hands cupped the head hanging under me with the most attentive care in the world.

He didn't have much time to admire the view, I wasn't done pushing. I screamed through closed lips as I felt the ring of flesh just behind my skin get stretched wider than it had ever been. I knew something was wrong as soon as that stabbing, tearing burn began. Suri was two weeks early, but she suddenly felt bigger than my son had been.

"Pull her out!" I begged, remembering what the doctor had done. "Just pull her out!"

"Can't," the doula said. "Her hands are up by her ears, there's nowhere for us to grab."

"Take it slow, Fawn," Ray offered. "I've got her, there's no reason to rush."

I took a few quick pants and rested, hoping the stabbing burn would lessen if I let myself stretch out. It's no wonder it hurt so bad delivering her shoulders, she was making this part more difficult than it needed to be.

Tess's hands lightly squeezed my arms and I felt her hiding her face in the blanket draped over my back. Yeah, she was definitely on the verge of passing out.

Gravity was pulling on Suri even as I was trying to let myself stretch, and the shifting pressure triggered me to push without the aid of a contraction.

"Aughh, Suri come on!" I begged, pushing so hard my vision was going double.

Maybe saying her name was intimidating enough to get her to move, because with that push I felt her arms pop free. Ray gasped, and I felt his hands shift to support her upper body as the rest of her slipped out of me. I heard fluid splash and splatter onto the puppy pad, and just a second later, Ray lifted a small blue baby up from under me.

"Get her breathing," the doula urgently instructed. "Turn her over and rub her back. Support her head."

Ray obeyed, gently flipping Suri over on his lap and rubbing his large hand over her back. Her head hung disturbingly limp on her neck as he jostled her around, but I knew that's what it was supposed to be like. It still looked scary.

Suri splayed her arms out, as if she's been surprised, and let out a gurgling wail as her first breath.

"There she is," Ray sighed with releif, turning her back over to hold her in his arms. The doula whipped out a small towel and draped it over her body to keep her warm.

Tess came back to life and rushed to be beside her husband the instant she heard the baby cry. The moment she saw Suri in her daddy's hands, she dropped to her knees and covered her mouth. Her eyes spilled over, tears flowing down her cheeks.

"Oh, Ray!" she cried, her voice shaky and breaking. She reached out and pet her daughter's wet mop of black hair. "Ray, she's beautiful!"

Ray couldn't answer, he was too choked on tears of his own. Both parents held their daughter between their bodies, too joyful for words to express. Their tears and shared kisses told the story, though.

As for me, I wasn't too sure what to make of the situation. She was out, she was healthy, and her parents would be taking it from here. My job was done; but it did feel a bit...abrupt.

"Fawn," Tess turned to me, uselessly trying to dry her eyes, "do you want to hold her?"

I didn't think, I just spoke: "Yes. I've never held a baby before."

Ray and Tess lifted Suri up to me. Ray adjusted my hold so I could support the places that needed it, and Tess made sure the bloodied towel was in place so Suri wouldn't get cold. Within seconds, there I was with a minute-old baby in my arms, sitting against my bare chest.

I stared down silently at the tiny person who had been living inside me the last nine months. She was screaming her head off, but her lungs were sounding clearer each time her mouth opened. Her pink, toothless gums reminded me of a fish's mouth.

"Hey, Suri," I said, my voice sounding far away. "Must feel better out here, huh?" Suri wailed again, unhappily flailing her arms and legs around. "Or not."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I rested on the sofa, extra puppy pads beneath me, as the doula and the parents did the 'lotus ceremony' on the other side of the room. I'd had to sit on that stool for an extra twenty minutes until the placenta passed -- Ray and Tess wanted to have a lotus birth, where the cord was burned through only after the afterbirth was delivered.

I didn't want to know what they planned to do with the placenta itself.

Ray had offered to drive back to the women's shelter later that day to grab my duffel bag for me. In my panic, I'd completely forgotten the overnight bag I'd packed. So, for the time being, I was naked and covered only by the thin blanket Tess had given me.

The lotus ceremony finished up, and Ray and Tess pulled up some chairs to sit beside me. Tess had gone topless and had laid a sleeping Suri carefully across her chest, doing skin-to-skin so they could establish the proper mother-baby bond. Her eyes were red and raw, and fresh tears were falling from them.

"Fawn," she began, "you'll never know how much this means 'ta us."

"You're welcome," I said, offering the couple a tired smile. "She was a rowdy tenant, but I'd gladly do it again to give you guys the family you want. You'll be an amazing mom, Tess."

Tess let out a small sob that turned into a chuckle. "Thank 'ya."

Ray rubbed his wife's back, his own fresh tears falling. "We have something very special to give you, Fawn. It's...the closest thing we have to fully repaying you."

Tess nodded. "Money ain't enough. It would never be enough."

In sync, both couples removed the pieces of jewelry I'd never seen them without: Tess, her quartz pendant; Ray, his sea glass bracelet. Without a word, both new parents bestowed the items on me as if it were a coronation. Tess slipped the pendant around my neck and flipped my hair out from under the chain it hung on. Ray carefully slid the band of clattering sea-green beads over my hand until it came to rest softly on my wrist.

I looked at the new gifts with a grateful smile. "Something to remember you guys by?"

The couple gave each other one of their classic knowing grins.

"No," Tess said. "We chose these items months ago. They were always intended for who our surrogate would be."

I tilted my head to the side like a confused dog -- I guess the puppy pads were appropriate after all. "What?"

"From the day we met you, we've been praying over them," Ray explained, repeating the hand-over-heart motion I'd frequently seen him do with the hand that had worn the bracelet. "Each milestone we reached, we made sure our joy in the moment was stored in the crystals."

"Quartz is best to channel the energy of a mother, for Mother Gaia," Tess explained. "Glass shaped by the sea is best for a father's energy, for all life was fathered by the sea."

We were silent for a while, just staring at each other. The only sound was the soft cooing Surinder made in her sleep.

"We want you 'ta be a part of this family, Fawn," Tess said. "We've put a part of our essence into these crystals. Our joy, our love, our gratitude. So, whenever 'ya wear 'em, we'll be with 'ya."

Now I was crying. I opened my jaw to say something, but nothing came.

"We've talked about it, and..." Ray said with a smile. "...if you would like to, we'd be more than happy to have you stay here with us until you get back on your feet."

"Livin' out here has been much less of a headache than in the city," Tess continued. "We could help you find a nice 'lil place of your own sometime soon, a home where you can make a life for 'yaself."

There was another pause. I let tears fall silently down my bewildered face.

"You don't talk much about 'ya family," Tess said. "You don't owe us no explanation, but...Ray and I figured...you might need someone in 'ya corner."

That was it. That was the killing blow.

I jumped forward and threw my arms over Ray, collapsing into sobs I hadn't experienced in months. I would've grabbed both of them, but Tess had the baby. I didn't actually say anything to them, but I think they got the message.

Maybe there was something to those New Age ideas of theirs. As I sat there sobbing, I swear I could feel the warmth of Tess and Ray's love seeping into my skin through those minerals.

It seeped through my blood and sinew, and even though bone. It settled into the bleeding wound in my soul that refused to heal, the one that had been torn open the first time I called my family after the fallout:

My own mother, the one who promised to love me no matter what life threw, plunged the knife in and twisted it. The last words she ever spoke to me...were a threat to kill me if I ever tried to come back home.

The warmth of Ray and Tess's gift poured into that wound like warm honey -- not healing it, but soothing it for the first time in three years.

Maybe I was overthinking it. Maybe the heat in the jewelry was just from their body heat.

But I was sure about one thing:

I wasn't alone anymore.

~ END ~

#Fawn Drabbles #mittysins #birth kink #RP Drabble

82 notes · View notes

themarginalthinker · 6 months

Text

Saint 'Dimitri'

(also known as DMT. Paul and Michael get high, and go down a list of all the things they can put in their bodies because vampire bodies are only addicted to one thing in the long run. tw: Discussions of drug use, references to drugs. I wrote this very quickly bc the idea bit me.)

"Weed?"

"Obviously."

"Yeah." Michael flicks a finger towards the bong Paul was filling. "Obviously. Uh...coke?"

Paul raises a brow. "Jumping pretty far, there."

"So sue me, my mom was an ex-Hippy and I'm a good suburban boy. I don't know a lot of drugs. Have you done it?"

"Yup. Got some left too, if you wanna try."

"Eugh. No. You see those people on TV?"

Paul shakes his head. "Worst case scenarios filmed for the ratings, and like, you have to be using for years, dude, before you ever start looking like that. Which, even if you stuff a pound of the shit up there every night for the rest of your life, you won't, because you ain't human."

Michael still hakes his head. "I don't think I'd like the feeling anyway."

Paul grins. "Yeah, you're spooksy enough as it is."

"I'm cautious, which has kept my ass out of the fire more than I can say about the rest of you idiots," Michael shoots back.

"...Technically it wasn't fire, it was buckshot-"

"-and the pair of you still have it embedded in your asses. Next. Uh...morphine?"

"David likes it, but I also think the guy could ask Dwayne to conk him over the head with a metal pipe and it would work just as well."

Michael cocks his head.

"Sleep aid for the supernatural, Mikey."

"Oh. Yeah. I guess he is kinda fitful, huh."

"He's got his reasons- oh for fuck's sake, light!"

Paul snarls lowly and bangs the end of the little zippo on his knee, face screwed up in almost childish frustration. Michael snorts but spares him the continued pain. He reaches into his own pocket and pulls out the one he's been carrying for a while.

Paul takes it gratefully, and doesn't say anything about how Michael doesn't carry any smokes (or doesn't have Marko's knack for setting things on fire randomly), and how it's a much older model, well-cared for and refillable. Made to last from a past era. Not his.

If he had, Michael may have just thrown it at him instead.

But he doesn't say anything, and Paul doesn't either, and the two laps into comfortable silence as the bowl is passed back and forth.

Michael hums, fingers toying with the frayed edges of a hole in the knee of his jeans. "Um...okay, uh. Oxycodone?"

Paul, leaning back against the pillows, blinks owlishly at him, clearly trying to connect some dots. "...I got some random pills from that one car we pulled-"

"No, no, like. Have you ever taken it?" Michael corrects, getting back to the subject they'd been talking about.

"Oh! Uh, nah, gave me hives."

"Well. Okay, I wasn't asking if you liked it, just that you tried it, dude. So that's a yes."

"Like, I think I get it, pain relief," Paul says, leaning even further back, to look up at the hanging tapestries and the garlands of shiny knickknacks and rackam strewn above him. "But it's like. Different. Than this."

He shakes the bowl a little. Michael reaches out a hand to stop him before he spilled something. "Feels...I don't know. Flatter. It's not up here."

Paul motions to his head, and the buzz he no doubt has going. Michael is feeling it too. He makes a small noise of acknowledgement, and leaves it.

"...DMT?"

In an instant, barely as the letters of the acronym had time to leave his mouth, Paul was up. His eyes wide enough even in his relaxed state to see the whites all around them, mouth set in a grimace enough he was almost showing his teeth.

"No. Fuck no, Mike. That shit is- damn, like, I don't wanna have to feel all the shit in reality, but like. I still wanna be in reality, you know?"

Michael shrugs a shoulder, and when the action makes his head feel like it won't stop tilting that way, he follows it and lets himself rest back against the pillow nest they'd made of the bedding.

"It's not that bad," he says, and Paul just shakes his head slowly.

And then stops. A look of consternation passing over his features.

He squints at Michael.

"...Did you-?"

"Well-"

"Oh my God, Mike!"

He's suddenly sitting even further up, crawling forward. (Michael having to take the bong from him and finally set it aside so they didn't dump hot ash on the bed sheets or spill water over everything.) Paul gets into his space, face half a smile, half pure disbelief.

"You said you'd never done anything stronger than shots and dope!"

Michael, to his credit, does imagine he looks at least a little sheepish.

"I just didn't remember it when I said that. It was a while ago. I also don't really remember much of it, just that. Things got weird, some...guy one of the people hosting the party knew brought this stuff in a thermos, but I was also tired as shit, so I think I just thought most of it was dreams."

Paul laughs, "Pretty spacey dreams, dude."

"Yeah, no kidding, it was like. Dreams in dreams...I think I thought the couch cushions were cracks in an endless pit and I was gonna fall in or something...you've never had it though?"

The laughter turns a little darker as Paul pulls back a bit, giving Michael some air. He flops against him though, head sinking down to rest on his belly.

"Not on your life. Big damn predator, out of my gourd on the spirit molecule runnin' around the woods at night? With the sensory stuff that we can feel without drugs? Can you fuckin' imagine..."

Michael supposes he could. Granted, the images in his mind were mostly funny, and in the bond, the boundaries of which were deteriorating with every passing moment, he passed those on to Paul. It got him a chuckle, and the sound played like low timpani in his head.

The conversation lapsed on.

#the lost boys #drabble #drugs #drug reference #believe it or not there are places Paul ain't willing to go #and Michael maaaay not be as much of a good boy as Lucy thought

19 notes · View notes

total-drama-takes-the-squeakquel · 1 month

Note

It's bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark

Uh I think I want say sorry for going so hard for Courtney and Scott all the time but here:

My FAVORITE:

Leshawna- YES, SHE Deserves IT my queen and the girl who would slap me for being disrespectful the call me out as she should. I don't care stay mad. She amazing!

Courtney- HC Mexican and Filipino lady that will cuss me out for being dumb, but she is right again, and I still love her. But she...And? I done worse as a teenage and made grown man beg for his life once at 17 years old for trying to mess with me/blackmail me! I think I can handle Courtney just fine. I will fight a wild street dog who tries to bite/fight me first too is who I am. (Not literally I do bark at the dogs though)

Brody- I LOVE THIS MAN, GEOFF FORGIVE ME BUT YEET YOUR BRO IS MINE. I LOVE HIM *MAKES AN ALTER TO PRAYER TO SAINT BRODY* I want to Brody so bad no thoughts just waves and happiness, to be tan, to be fit, and have pink on me all times woah!

Brick- I don't know he. I want him happy and I am stealing someone's backbone if he said me to. I love him and his army ways. I swoon at the thought of strong army person still being somewhat fearful of something ah so human and whimsical about him, you know? (Shoves Jo out the way barking at her then holding my child Brick like a baby saying he needs you to respect him or I am dragging you for him now!) Him being afriad of the dark good god this man is in touch to his emotions and fear of the unknow in the darkness because same, I guess?

Duncan & Scott- I hate him- I Hate HIM- I love him this man ain't mine because I want to hold him and squeeze the daddy issues out him and the commitment issues out of Duncan, Scott I love you my beloved pumpkin and kid. You my son now. I will not date any of you because ew and plus you my babies I guess in a sense? Duncan is your adopt brother therefore no fighting in the fifth place, ok? My Fire Duncan type vs Ice Scott type I love them.

My FAVORITE Ships in my silly mind:

Duncan x Courtney

Scott x Courtney

Polycule Duncan x Courtney x Brick x Jo x Scott it seems fun and funny. Also, scary times imagine the dead of night you try breaking in their lovely home to hurt one of them?! YOU WILL DIE AND DUNCAN ALONG WITH JO AND SCOTT BURYING YOUR BODY AS POOR BRICK AND COURTNEY MAKE LOOK LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED!

Leshawna x Gwen on triple date with Duncan x Scott and Courtney with her girlfriend Jo with their boyfriend Brick?! OHH spicy and yum little treat. So gay and delightful yuh ugh

Sam and Dakota. I like these two therefore they are safe from me now... meaning I haven't made them gay or crazy in my mind yet, hopefully my mind doesn't do it or I am so sad with myself.

#bark bark bark #total drama #long post #samkota #gwenshawna #scottney #duncney #duncourtjottick #<- sure I guess that’s a ship name #leshawna td #courtney td #Brody td #brick td #Duncan td #Scott td

9 notes · View notes

punishme85 · 9 months

Text

Hoe, Virgin & Everything In Between - Excluding Luke

Lucifer

- Virgin? Absolutely not! Hoe? Again NO!

- This man would be far too busy for numerous casual flings but he sure as hell ain't a Saint.

- He would be the type to want to take his time but would be down with a quickie here and there.

- He doesn't share! Well with a few exceptions... (That's for a different post)

- Tease? Absolutely!

- Lose control? Most Definately! But once it begins, good luck stopping him!

- Kinky? 🌶🌶🌶 He has so many kinks to play with, you'll never get bored.

- This man would wreck you, bring you to your knees and then slowly rebuild you.

- Leave marks? Your body would be riddled with bites hickeys, maybe a little rug burn but he would always treat you with care afterwards.

- Do not cover up your marks, that will piss him off!

Mammon

- Virgin? Hell No! Hoe? Only when he's drunk!

- He maybe a little skittish but get a couple drinks in him or if you two are in an established relationship, he would be just as dirty as Asmo.

- Whether it's a quickie or he can take his time, he is here for this!

- He doesn't share! He's greedy for more than just money. There's one exception to this rule. (Another post)

- Tease? Sometimes

- Lose Control? Yes and he would be greedy enough to go for as long as his and your bodies can handle it.

- Kinky? 🌶 He is more vanilla than many of his other brothers but he still has quite a few kinks.

- He would spoil you, in and out of the bedroom. This man is greedy but he loves you more than he loves Goldie!

- Leave marks? Yes he would but he would try to be more discreet about it and would prefer if you left marks on him instead.

- He would wear the marks you left with pride!

Levi

- Virgin? Absolutely! Hoe? Nope only for you!

- You'll have to take your time and work up to this! He may panic, may faint, may freak the fuck out every few seconds but eventually he will get the hang of this! BUT once he's over the hard part of his first time, watch out, this boy will surprise you!

- He would prefer taking his time with you so he can explore. Quickies will be more of a thing later in the relationship.

- He doesn't share! No exceptions to this rule! He's Envy, he would be too jealous to share!

- Tease? Not really his thing.

- Lose Control? Absolutely will happen.

- Kinky? 🌶🌶🌶 This man has watched so much Hentai and Porn! He will want to spend forever trying Absolutely everything until he knows what he likes!

- There will be a lot of sex in water, whether it's his bathtub, shower, lake, ocean... doesn't matter, he would love it!

- Leave marks? A few but they will not be displayed, thank you! He would hate if the brothers teased him about this.

- He would have a massive amount of hone videos and personal pictures tucked away in an encrypted folder on both his phone and his computer.

Satan

- Virgin? Nope. Hoe? No.

- This man grew up with Asmo, you can not tell me Asmo hasn't got to him at least a few times over the millenia. (Asmo would be Satan's BITCH!)

- Quickies or taking his time, he would love both.

- He doesn't Share! No he would be murderous even thinking about this! The homicide rate would soar if you brought it up! No exceptions.

- Tease? Absolutely a Tease!

- Lose Control? Most definately and then you're in trouble! You will not be able to walk away, he will make sure of that!

- Kinky? 🌶🌶🌶 He has a lot he wants to try and has some established kinks already.

- He would be the most aggressive and passionate in bed. Not only is he a hopeless romantic but he's also a bit sadistic so it's gonna be a fun ride!

- Leave marks? Yup, he will leave marks and doesn't mind either way if you try to cover them up or not.

- After he's done ripping a demon to shreds, expect to be absolutely destroyed! It's the best stress relief and the fastest way to calm him down after he lets his wrath get the best of him!

Asmo

- Virgin? Hahaha No! Hoe? He is the very definition of Hoe!

- This boys such a hoe and he's unapologetic about it! Orgies all the damn time!

- Again, this mans down to fuck anytime, anywhere. Ditch school? Fucking! Got a date? Fucking! Had a bad day? Spa day and Fucking! There's never a time that he isn't a dirty hoe, but that's why we love him.

- Won't share you with just anyone but he will definately share you with a few! (Another post!)

- Tease? He's more into instant gratification!

- Lose Control? Yes he will.

- Kinky? 🌶🌶🌶 There's no kink shaming here! He has the longest list of everyone!

- He is the most excitable man around and he is literally a god/sin when it comes to sex. You won't be able to form words let alone walk afterwards, he is too damn good at everything!

- Leave marks? He tries not to but if he does, he will help you cover them up with make up, a hair style and accessories!

- You will find yourself fucked in front if a mirror all the time! He wants to be able to watch both if you from every angle.

Beel

- Virgin? NO! Hoe? Again no.

- This man is the Avatar of Gluttony and though he swings more towards food and working out, he will also be gluttonous for you!

- He would prefer to take his time because he can't seem to stop himself once he started. He has an oral fixation!

- He would only share with Belphie! You can not change my mind! These two share absolutely everything!

- Tease? He isn't a tease, more into over stimulation.

- Lose Control? Possibly, but if he does, watch out, he sometimes doesn't know his own strength.

- Kinky? 🌶🌶 He's a little bit vanilla but he has his kinks, especially food play!

- This gentle giant will take care if you always. He will over compensate for Belphie being such a little bitch to you!

- Leave marks? Hopefully not! He would feel so bad if he left a bruise or hurt you. He is such a good boy, he would spend eternity trying to control himself better if that happened.

- This man would have the biggest cock out of all the brothers.

Belphie

- Virgin? Not at all. Hoe? A little bit.

- This man is lazy AF! He's also a brat! He would be demanding you do all the work and mocking you the entire time.

- He prefers quickies but will occasionally want to take his time.

- He would share with Beel, hell if you're in a relationship with one... you're automatically in a relationship with both. He would drop kick anyone else who would even look at you! He's a jealous bitch! But we love him for it.

- Tease? Hell yes! He's ruthless with it.

- Lose Control? Not really but I'm sure Beel will be there for you if he ever does.

- Kinky? 🌶🌶 His kinks are more on the sadistic side and he's lazy AF but I think the whole somnophilia vibe would be fun.

- Leave Marks? Absolutely and he will not apologize for it. Do not cover them, he wants everyone to know who you belong to.

- You would get a great work out with this man because you're doing most if not all of the work.

Lord Diavolo

- Virgin? Not a chance! Hoe? Barbatos wouldn't allow it!

- He lost it to either Barbatos or Lucifer! Our favorite himbo would be all over these two!

- This man in the king of quickies so Barbatos doesn't scold him for not staying on track but prefers taking his time.

- He would not share! There is exceptions for this but for the most part he wouldn't. (Another post)

- Tease? Not really

- Lose Control? Yes! In all the best ways!

- Kinky? 🌶🌶🌶 This man is up for anything!

- This mans messy, he wishes he had the freedom to be a hoe! He would be just as bad as Asmo if Barbatos didn't keep his leash short.

- Leave marks? Yup but he would not mind you covering them up. Once in a while he may leave one or two that you simply can't cover up and enjoy watching you squirm each time someone notices.

- Would be the most enthusiastic about absolutely everything. He will be willing to try absolutely anything and everything you or he can think of.

Barbatos

- Virgin? Absolutely not! Hoe? Only when drunk! (Hence why he doesn't drink often.)

- This mans intuition is off the hook! He would know what you would enjoy the most without having to ask! He would know your body better than you do.

- Quickies? Yup! Taking his time? Absolutely! He is always so busy, he would have to be flexible and so would you.

- He would not share! He might allow some to watch but not share with anyone!

- Tease? He is such a tease, it would be infuriating.

- Lose Control? Not as often as we would like!

- Kinky? 🌶🌶🌶 This mans will keep you on your toes! He's so old, I'm sure he had kinks before kinks were a thing!

- He would be the type to lock you away for a weekend, tied to a bed. He would take care of you while he also did his work and tend to you every moment he could possibly slip away.

- Leave marks? That would be a big yes! But they would be in private places where your clothes cover.

- The kitchen would be often used with this man! The food play would rival Beels!

Simeon

- Virgin? Yes! Hoe? He has hoe vibes for sure!

- This sweet angel would lose his wings for the impure thoughts running through his mind! Take his virginity and all bets are off! We will get to see just how depraved he really is but don't expect much.

- He prefers to take his time but a quickie is always welcomed.

- He wouldn't share usually but I think he wouldn't mind watching you with a selective few. (Another post.)

- Tease? Maybe accidentally here and there.

- Lose Control? YES! If he does, you're in for a crazy lust fueled ride!

- Kinky? 🌶 Not overly kinky but he has his moments. After he got more comfortable though. 🌶🌶🌶

- Our angel would most likely run yo one of the others for ideas to spice things up and be a blushing mess while they give him advice

- Leave marks? Accidentally at first but eventually he will leave them on purpose and take pride in others seeing them.

- He would gladly trade the light for the dark if it meant he could keep you forever and explore everything with you. Eventually would be just as messy as some of the more depraved brothers.

Solomon

- Virgin? Hahaha Not in this lifetime! Hoe? Yes he is!

- He attends all the orgies with Asmo! He's a bad influence on you and will have you in the center of it all.

- He wants to take his time. He will avoid quickies at all cost. He remembers life's short for regular humans but he also knows how to enjoy it to the fullest.

- This man is a voyeur extraordinaire and will want to watch you with almost anyone!

- Tease? Most of the time, but he will usually stop just before you snap.

- Lose Control? Not too often but when he does his magic gets involved.

- Kinky? 🌶🌶🌶 He's a dirty bitch with his bestie Asmo!

- He could turn the most innocent moments into the dirtiest ideas. He would also cast spells on you randomly just to watch what the brother would do. Lactating in front of Beel? A cat girl in front of Satan? Things would always be fun with our witty sorcerer around.

- Leave mark? Hell yes! Don't cover them up.

- He would make sure he had a supply of endurance and stamina potions for you.

#obey me #obey me brothers #obey me headcanons #obey me nightbringer #obey me side characters #18+ content

46 notes · View notes