Author: K'sChoiceofAFI PM
You decide to finally accept your attraction to Ivy. Truthfully, you had no choice, because let’s face it; you’re pretty freaking gay for some Tamwood ass. 2nd Person.Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance - Words: 1,254 - Reviews: 9 - Favs: 9 - Follows: 1 - Published: 03-23-10 - Status: Complete - id: 5837996
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: I do not own the subject nor the characters. Just having a little fun.
You decide to finally accept your attraction to Ivy. Truthfully, you had no choice, because let's face it; you're pretty freaking gay for some Tamwood ass. You're staring at her right now. She's at her computer, surfing the web while going through the day's mail. You're supposed to be making spells, but you keep getting distracted because Ivy has a tendency to bite her lip when she's contemplating something and liquid heat pools between your legs every time.
She catches you looking at her and asks why you're staring at her.
Flushing slightly, you reply, "Nothing, I was just admiring how beautiful it is outside."
Lame. Your 'Oh-I'm-not-looking-at-you-I'm-looking-at-what's-behind-you' lie is, well, a lie. She can tell. She knows you're lying because she can smell it. She can also smell your desire, but she chooses to ignore it now because nothing ever comes of it. It kind of creeps you out that she can smell your every emotion, but you realize that it's no more creepy than the fact that you can smell her everywhere. You sometimes wonder if you're part bloodhound because you can identify Ivy's scent on any surface. Are witches even supposed to have developed senses like that? You used to say that the only reason that you knew her scent was because you guys were roommates and, logically, occupied the same space. So it's only natural that you would know what she smells like. However, now that you've accepted your attraction to her, you've also accepted this fact: You know Ivy's scent, because it has been ingrained into you. And it's been ingrained into you because you love her.
Love. You frown because you were never supposed to love another woman. But then again, you weren't supposed to be a demon either. All of your life's plans have been shitted out and flushed down the toilet and you're a little bitter. Well you would be, if Ivy and Jenks would let you. You three fight constantly, but you can't deny the fact that you love those guys and would be lost and in the middle of nowhere without them. Or dead. But you prefer not to think about that.
"Are you sure you're ok? You keep making faces. Plus, you smell…weird." Her eyes are dilating. It used to scare you when that happened, but now you don't even bat an eye when it happens. She's not an angry vampire, poised to attack. She's just reacting to the billions of emotions you're giving off at once. She'd never bite you. You're almost certain she'd chew off her own arm before she lets that happen. That thought makes you sad. She smells it, and gracefully lifts herself from the chair to walk over to you because not only are you sad now; you also haven't answered her question.
Warm. She envelops you in a hug. You two hug now, and you love it. You slowly return it back because hugging is a new feature to your friendship and you're not quite used to it yet.
You breathe her in. Ivy smells so good. How could you not recognize her scent? It's so original. It's heady, spicy and awakens something primal in you. It's all Ivy. You bring your left hand up to her neck and grip her hair lightly. She let it grow out again and she looks fucking sexy. You cradle her head in your hand and instinctually position it by your neck. She gives a low purr and you throb.
"Rachel?" She questions. Her voice has turned husky, which lets you know that she's just as into this as you are.
"I want it," You breathe. It's the closest you allow yourself to saying 'I want you.' Biting started around the same time the hugging did. It allows Ivy more intimacy, which in turn, allows her to bite you without you having to hurt her. You two met on a middle ground. You told her that you wouldn't sleep with her, wouldn't be her girlfriend, but your friendship was still able to progress to what it is now. What is it now? A lot of fucking gray areas.
She asks because, well, Ivy's a lady. And you respond like a porn star, "Yes, please, take it."
Every time her teeth sink in it's like time stands still. You sound like a cliché chick flick, but no one knows you're having these thoughts, so you allow it. Every single one of Ivy's curves are touching yours and you moan at the feeling. Any other time you would have blamed the moan on the fact that the old scars and the new one she was forming on your neck were the cause, but you know better now. You know what they say about hindsight.
She wraps her arms around the small of your back and grips your shirt tightly as you bury both your hands in her hair and it's perfect. Fucking perfect. How could you have denied something so obvious for so long? Her aura's reaching out to yours, enveloping yours with its purity: protecting it. Just as Ivy would always protect you.
"Ivy," You gasp. It's good, and it's getting better. She responds by pulling on you even harder and you moan loudly. You're close.
"Fuck yes, Ivy!" You curse because you have to. It's the only way you can express yourself when your aura's chime because it's so intense. It's the best orgasm you have ever had and will ever have in life and it's caused by Ivy Tamwood. Ivy. Ivy, Ivy, Ivy. She's like the Marsha Brady of the Hollows, but more angsty.
She holds you close, licking your neck like a starved kitten, trying to lap up any blood that may be left. Then she nuzzles into you and purrs contentedly. You can't help but smile because everyone knows Ivy is sexy, but not many people know that she's also cute.
Once she feels that you've come back to your senses, she reluctantly releases you because she doesn't want to over stay her welcome in your arms. You feel cold now that she's gone and want nothing more than to crawl inside of her and live forever. She smiles, gives you a small thank you, and travels to her room.
One day, you decide. One day you're going to tell her exactly how you feel. You love the occasional hand holding during outings, the hugging, the biting, the intimacy. You love it all. And a thought runs through your head: 'All or nothing, Rachel.' She said that. She said all or nothing, and as you stand in the middle of the kitchen, sated, and with a goofy smile on your face you realize: you're ready for it all. You want it all. Need it. Need her. You love Ivy Tamwood, and as you march to her room with your head held high, you also realize that 'one day' is today.