DISCLAIMER: "The Hollows" series and its characters are the property of Kim Harrison, and Harper Collins Publishers. This piece of fan fiction was created for fun and not profit.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Woke Up Gay
I'm straight. No, seriously. A negative 15 on the Kinsey Scale. I am the edge razors and rulers line themselves up against - STRAIGHT. It's just..
I'm kinda gay in my dreams.
It's not my fault, at least not this time. I live with a vampire - a living vampire. Sure, a living vampire who is in love with me and, if I gave her the word, wouldn't think twice about jumping my bones. But I don't love Ivy 'that way'.
Vampires are creatures of seduction. One of the weapons in their arsenal - pheromones, those tricky hormonal scents that can subdue, sedate and arouse any potential target into submission.
It made sense that even while sleeping vampires would emit pheromones. It also made sense that someone, say me, would feel those affects while sleeping. And I felt it. Oh, I felt it. The dreams didn't happen often but when they did it was like a visceral punch to the gut. Incredibly intense dreams that left me feverishly aroused, quivering in anticipation and aching for release.
I didn't talk to Ivy about this. It was part of our relationship in that uncomfortable topics were avoided like the plague and danced around with 50-foot poles.
Ivy couldn't separate her blood lust from her sexual desires. I wanted to find a blood balance with Ivy. But I didn't want to have sex with Ivy. And there was no way in Hell I was going to tell Ivy I'd been having incredibly hot sex dreams about her. I'm not sure what it says about me that my subconscious is willing to let Ivy have me when my conscious does not. Then again, I've never been one for self introspection.
Until I started having the dreams when Ivy wasn't home.
It was a crazy, hot summer with record breaking temperatures that turned the church, my home, into an oven. I slept nude on top of my sheets, three fans at full blast barely able to cool the permanent sheet of sweat covering my skin.
I tossed and turned and flopped and flipped. And when I finally settled down, when I finally felt the heavy cloak of sleep pulling my conscious towards slumber..
She was waiting for me.
Ivy stood in the graveyard behind our church in a landscape that was like the opposite of the ever-after; a twilight-blue sky and shimmering stars, a half moon, taking up a quarter of the sky, loomed above the horizon irradiating silver and gold light. The grass was tall, up to my knees, a golden color like wheat under a moonlit sky. It spread out across the landscape. Beyond Ivy, there were no houses, no Cincinnati sky-scape, just oceans and oceans of the golden grass rippling like waves from an unfelt breeze. If this was a vision of the past or the future, I did not know.
Ivy smiled at me, her fangs bright. It wasn't a smile of malice but of peace and contentment. Ivy was always happy in my dreams.
She wore black leather pants that hugged her long, model-like legs. A button-down Oxford colored a translucent white. I could see the darkened circles of her areolas, hardened nipples straining against the material.
I licked my lips.
Ivy raised a hand, crooking a finger playfully. Then..
She turned an ran.
The adrenaline coursed through me like a bolt of electricity and I gave chase. It felt as if the Focus was still inside me, but it wasn't about the hunt or predator chasing its prey. It was about the chase; the grass under my feet, the wind on my face, the burn of my legs, the ache in my lungs.
The field of grass turned to a forest. I ran past thick, ancient trees with trunks that seemed to go upwards for forever. I could see Ivy ahead of me, her laughter tickling my ears. She was close. My heart beat faster and my insides warmed because it was a chase now.
And I wanted her.
My insides clenched in anticipation and the heat built to an aching need between my legs.
Ivy darted behind a tree, disappearing from my vision. I closed the distance, skittering to a stop as I approached the tree trunk wide as a small car.
"Ivy," I called out in a taunting, sing-song voice as I circled around the tree.
But Ivy wasn't there. A branch snapped.
I whipped around fast. Ivy was faster. She lunged for me, hands clasping around my wrists, her body molding against mine and pinning me to the tree. She smelled of leather and incense and the promise of sex. I inhaled her scent until I felt it touch my soul.
"Rachel?" she asked, her eyes on my lips as she rolled hers between her teeth. She released her hold on my wrists, placing her palms against the trunk.
She lifted her eyes to mine. They were black, completely black even the parts that should have been white. But I didn't feel the fear that always gripped me in my waking moments when I was with Ivy. This was Ivy. My Ivy, the way I saw her and not the monster Ivy believed herself to be.
"What do you want?" she asked.
"I want you to kiss me."
Her lips curled into a snarl. A sexy snarl that made me arch my pelvis until it ground against hers. "Make me."
My hand shot out, grabbing her by the back of the head and I yanked her towards me. Our lips met fast and hard, crashing together. Hungrily, I kissed her. My fingers thread into her hair as her hands roamed my sides. I purred as she reached up to cup my breast. Her legs shifted and I felt the pressure of her thigh sliding between my legs.
The kiss broke in a panted gasp. My hand still in her hair, I jammed her face into the crook of my neck, shivering as her lips brushed against my scar, the sensation streaking down me and rippling deep within my core.
Ivy shifted and then her fingers were inside me, long and slender and strong and I started rolling my hips, arching into her, meeting her stroke for stroke. Not holding back. Not afraid. I didn't care if it was just a dream. Because this felt right, because this felt real.
Because I love her.
I felt the razor's edge of sharp canines drawing across my skin. My hold on her hair tightened, keeping her there, letting Ivy know it was okay. This was okay. She's my Ivy and I'll never let her go.
Ivy's body shivered against mine and then I felt the icy prick of her teeth sinking into my neck. I cried out, body jolting at the twin sensations of pleasure, of teeth and fingers inside me, and the electricity rippling through my body as they connected.
"Ivy," whimpered from my lips. I could feel my orgasm rushing towards me with the force of a runaway freight train. I clutched her tighter, not wanting this to end as my orgasm built and my life-force drained.
And then it ended.
Ended in the way it always did, me on the precipice about to go over and waking up right before it does. If Morpheus was real, I was going to give that dream-inducing asshole a swift kick to the balls.
I shifted on my bed, not ready to open my eyes.. or roll over. It was still hot and I was still sweaty and, goddamnit, I really, really wanted to come.
Something tickled the back of my brain, a sensation I couldn't quite put my finger on, a shift in the air, the close heat on my body, the weighted feel of the mattress. Then it hit me -
I wasn't alone!
"Don't move," I heard Ivy's voice whispering low and throaty somewhere by my neck. I felt the tingle in my demon scar, the twitch in my belly as the sensations from my dissipating dream mixed with my stark reality.
My eyes snapped open. Ivy was crouched over me, hands placed on either side of my head, legs straddled over my hips. She was crouched low, her head in the crook of my neck, her nose gently grazing over the skin covering my scar.
"Ivy," I croaked, heart pounding heavily, trying desperately to quell the rising fear.
She rose, her face an inch from mine. I felt the golden tips of her hair brushing against my cheeks. Her eyes were black, not the total black of my dream but black nonetheless. I was in trouble.
Ivy exhaled, her breath wet and warm on my face. "You were calling out my name."
Shit. "It was just a dream."
Her lips curled into a smirk. "Do you always dream of me?"
I pointed my eyes towards the ceiling. Maybe if I didn't look at her, the fear would go away. No. Not fear. Something else inside me I didn't want to acknowledge. Didn't want to think about. "Not always."
"Do you also call out my name?"
My eyes snapped towards hers but Ivy was gone, her face hovering over my neck. I gasped as she ran her tongue across my scar, lighting a fire in the pit of my stomach that seared across my soul.
"Ivy." The words were supposed to come out as a stern warning, instead it sounded more like a moan, sounded like I was starting to enjoy this.
I think I was and that terrified me more than anything. Like the foundation that Rachel Mariana Morgan was built upon had shifted. I was a risk taker and a rule breaker but I also believed in absolutes. Right and wrong. Good and evil. The harder I tried to hold on to my identity, the person I knew who I was, the more I changed. I was a white witch, until I started using black magic. I was the daughter of Montgomery Morgan, until I wasn't but the daughter of Takata. I abhorred and avoided demons, until I found out their blood ran through my veins.
Maybe it was pathetic to cling so tightly to this one final part of me, my sexuality, but it was all I had left. All that remained of me that was still indisputably me. And Rachel Mariana Morgan was straight. Right?
My eyes snapped into focus. Ivy was hovering over me, her eyes squinting slightly. Her irises were no longer completely black but a half and half of black and brown. She leaned down, brushed her lips lightly across mine. I trembled at that first contact, snapping my eyes closed at the hot salty burn of tears.
I felt Ivy's hand on my face, her thumb wiping away the tear rolling down my cheek. I turned into her touch, wanting to feel the contact, nuzzling my cheek against the palm of her hand. I did it because I was terrified, because I could feel my foundation crumbling and I was plummeting into the abyss. So I reached for the touch of the only person in the world I knew would catch me when I fell.
"Rachel," Ivy whispered softly to me. "Open your eyes, Rachel."
My eyelids felt as if they'd been strapped down with 50-pound weights. It took everything in my being to open them.
"I'm not going to bite you," Ivy said.
"If you say no then I'll stop." Her face tensed. "Do you want me to stop?"
"Wait.." I pursed my lips. "Is that a trick question? Like does no mean no, or does yes mean no?"
Ivy pulled her face back and started laughing. She smiled so very rarely but when she did it lit up her entire face. I loved to see Ivy smile. I loved Ivy.
The revelation hit me like a ton of bricks. Laying there naked on my bed in the god awful heat with Ivy straddled over me and that uncomfortable tension that was always between us, my entire world crumbling around me. The foundation of me shifted, resettled and solidified.
I loved Ivy Tamwood. I might not have been a white witch. I might not have been Montgomery Morgan's daughter. Hell, I might even be part demon. I could live with all those things.
But I couldn't live without Ivy. Ivy, who sacrificed and gave and took no more than I was willing to give. Who let me push her away when she got too close, who I reached out for when I went too far.
"No," I whispered and watched her face twitch. "I don't want you to stop."
"Are you sure?" she asked, her face filled with tension. Her entire body pulled taut. We'd been here before and it had always ended badly. I'm not sure if either of us would survive if it went badly again.
"No?" I answered because, honestly, I wasn't sure. "I just.. I feel like I'll die if you kiss me and die if you don't." I reached up with my hand, cupping Ivy's face, my thumb drawing across her lips. Could we do this? Could I do this? To say my previous relationships ended badly was the understatement of ALL understatements. Ivy had waited so long, not exactly patient but not exactly demanding either. What if I gave her everything I am and it still wasn't enough? I mean, I'm not exactly an expert on lasting relationships, let alone the whole girl-girl thing.
"Stop it!" Ivy's voice jarred me from my thoughts. "Stop.. Thinking."
"You're right," I whispered, sliding my hand from her face to the back of her head. "I've never been good at thinking."
I pulled Ivy towards me, crashing our lips together. She whimpered as our mouths met, my tongue flicking across her lips and jamming into her mouth at the slightest opening of acquiescence. I'd kissed Ivy before. Okay, technically she was the one who kissed me. And it hadn't been anything like this. It hadn't been because now - I wanted it.
I kissed her deeply, passionately, hungrily. Like I was back in my dream and this time I wasn't waking up. One hand in her hair, the other squeezed into the space between our bodies. Ivy moaned as I cupped her breast, fingers fumbling amateurishly at the buttons on her shirt when I couldn't feel skin. It was my turn to purr when skin met skin and I felt the warmth and weight of Ivy's breast in my hand. I can't say I knew exactly what I was doing (I was an absolute beginner at this whole girl-girl thing), more guided by the increasing moans and purrs exhaled from Ivy's mouth at every touch and caress.
Skin on skin and breast turned to stomach to the unfastening of a button and the unzipping of metal. And then I felt Ivy, warm and incredibly wet against my fingers. Ivy pulled our kiss apart when my fingertip met her clit.
"Rachel," exhaled in a pained whimper from her lips. And I thought yeah I could get used to this. I could get used to my name said like that.
I began a circular motion with my fingers as Ivy rolled her hips. I watched her face - eyes squeezed closed, lips slightly open, fangs extending.
"Ivy, open your eyes." I pulled our faces closer and breathed into her mouth. "I want to watch you come."
Brown eyes met mine through hooded lids and I felt something surge deep within me, pooling and pulsing hard between my legs. I was doing this to Ivy. My Ivy. Her eyes filled with tears that splashed softly on my face.
I whispered, "I love you Ivy Tamwood."
With that - Ivy came, her face twisting into an expression of pure ecstasy, hands balling the sheets into her fists, hips jutting chaotically against my fingers as her body rocked. I kept going, kept taking everything she could give me, every spasm, every shudder, every tremble. A warmth filled me and I knew I didn't have to use my second-sight to know our auras were blending. And the realization hit us both -
We didn't need blood to become one.
Ivy collapsed atop me. Her head in the crook of my neck, lips panting heavy and wet against my scar. Except this time, I didn't feel the uncontrollable surge of desire that usually came when a vampire touched me there. Just Ivy.
Ivy shivered as I withdrew my fingers. I felt wetness on my neck and the soft shudders of Ivy's body. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her tight as the tears flowed and the sobs wracked her body. Things always ended badly when we got too close. This time, I didn't push Ivy away. Whatever hurdle we needed to cross, we'd done it. Together.
The moments ticked by and Ivy eventually calmed down. She lifted her head up, gazing down at me, lips curved into a smile. "Wow," she said.
"Yeah," I smiled back. "Wow. What happens now?"
Ivy tilted her head boyishly. "I was kinda hoping this was the part where I returned the favor."
"Yeah," I leaned up, planting a leisurely kiss on her lips. Ivy took my not-so-subtle hint and began drawing her lips down my neck. "I've always loved your fingers."
Ivy stopped, peering up at me from between my breasts. "Oh, I wasn't planning to use my fingers," she purred, her eyes dark and hungry and the heat surged within me once again.
I watched her as she descended down my torso, pulling my thighs over her shoulders, the golden tips of her hair tickling the insides of my thighs.
As far as I know, I'd never been bitten down there but when Ivy's tongue touched my skin, it lit something unclaimed, a cauldron of untapped heat and desire that exploded outward, as if it had been lying in wait, waiting for Ivy.
I reached down, wanting to tangle my fingers into Ivy's hair but instead, finding her hand. Our fingers thread together as Ivy brought me closer to the precipice and, together, we tumbled over as one.
So, in a nutshell, I woke up gay. But, of all the things I believed about myself, of all the things that have changed, this one - the one that scared me the most, the one I fought against the hardest -
This one's not so bad. Okay, okay, it's actually kinda great.
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