Rachel's Confession
So, about this writing fic about fic? I was reading too much Rachel/Ivy this morning, and wrote vastly terrible smut in response to it, basically in response to how much I want Ivy to just take and stop being so sensitive. But the truth is, I have read exactly one half of one of the books, so it is entirely likely that there is massive continuity-fail, characterization-fail, terminology-fail, etc. It is also just an excuse for me to beat Rachel over the head with a stick.
But still, point out anything I got massively wrong!
I feel like I should be humiliated for this dirty porn, but I guess most of you must be used to it by now.
Title: Rachel's Confession
Author: Alsike
Fandom: The Hollows
Pairing: Rachel/Ivy
Rating: NC-17
AN/Disclaimer: Kim Harrison's
Word Count: 2497
Ivy’s gone again, and as usual, it’s my fault. Well, I’d like to say it’s Al’s fault, but Jenks is giving me that look indicating that it’s high time I stop blaming other people for my mistakes.
This one was absolutely, completely, unintentional though! And the reason I didn’t stop it when it was going too far… well, I don’t have an answer for that, except that it was Ivy, and I guess I just forgot I wasn’t supposed to feel safe with her.
I can’t even walk today, and sitting down is still incredibly painful, so I suppose I’ll just lie here and explain.
I was on a run, personal business though. Al wanted something that Trent had, and it was important that no one recognize me, so Al taught me a way to change my body. I became a cute petite brunette, smoothed out my scars, and even changed my scent, though apparently not entirely. And I went to the club where I was supposed to run into Trent. But I didn’t run into Trent, I ran into Ivy.
It was a heavily vampire club, one of the places where the non-vamps were clearly there to enjoy being the meat in a parasitic relationship. I knew Ivy went out to deal with her blood needs in places like this, but she was really sugared up, and I was sort of surprised. She looked happy and sexy and like she was really enjoying herself. I was twinging myself from all the pheromones, so I couldn’t blame her. My scar, even invisible, was hot and aching like a second pussy, and she scented me. I could tell from the puzzled look on her face that the smell wasn’t quite right, but familiar enough for her to turn.
“Rache-“ she started, before focusing on the source of the scent and realizing that it couldn’t be me. I thought she would just go back to dancing then, but she moved over to me instead. She smiled that hot easy playful smile. “Hey pretty,” she murmured in my ear. “You smell delicious.” And if her voice made me wet my panties, it was totally because of the sugar. “You want to dance?”
I thought I might be able to spot Trent among the crush of bodies, so I followed her out, and let myself move. I liked dancing, and it was nice to dance with Ivy, enjoy her being sexy without feeling like I was being pressured by it. When it was us we could never really just have a good time anymore. She was too invested, and I had to stay at a distance, or risk getting in over my head. But this way she didn’t know it was me and I didn’t have to worry about her not letting me go.
I might have been slightly too optimistic about that. When she snarled at another vampire who touched me, it was probably pretty apparent that I wasn’t entirely autonomous, but I didn’t mind, he was big and scary, and Ivy was Ivy, and I moved closer into her, pressing my face against her neck.
I had pretty much forgotten about the run. It just made me feel like I had a reason to be there and to be doing what I was doing, touching what I was touching. Since it was work, I didn’t have to worry about what it meant. Not that it meant anything yet. I was enjoying feeling invulnerable, dancing with my best friend, even if she didn’t know it was me. I guess I didn’t realize that if someone I didn’t know came up to me and started dancing and taking… uh… liberties, I would be pretty certain they were into me. But I’ve never been very good at putting myself in someone else’s point of view.
I think I must have been pretty far gone by then, because Vampire necks, Do Not Touch, is probably something I should remember. She backed me against a wall then, and kissed me, and it was hot and delicious, but I could really tell that she didn’t know it was me, because her aura didn’t give a twitch. But my scars felt like they were on fire, a gasoline fire, spitting little white-blue sparks everywhere. No one was really holding back with the pheromones there, and if I was already soaking, it totally had more to do with that than with the way Ivy looked, eyes black with heat, her hair falling in her face, her long fingers trailing up my sides.
It was just physical, none of those complicated feelings to mess things up. I was good at physical. It was really one of my only skills. I was a little hesitant about kissing her back, because, you know, she was still a girl, and no matter how turned on I was, I was still not into that, but I think she took that as submission. Because then her hand was suddenly in my pants, fingers moving, parting my lips and running over my clit, and I was so utterly shocked by that and so turned on by her forcefulness, that I may have spread my legs a little and canted my hips towards her.
I’m not trying to defend myself here. I might have been messed up on pheromones, alcohol, and the thrill of illicit sex, but I probably could have suggested that I didn’t want it, and I think Ivy would have let me go. But I didn’t. I will admit it, I was totally down for sex right then, and if it had to be Ivy, so be it. My neck was aching to be bitten, and it wasn’t me, she didn’t want the me I was right then the way she usually did, so I didn’t have to be terrified that she would go too far and keep me. Who wants to bind random snacks you pick up in clubs, right?
“Come upstairs, I want to taste you,” she whispered, and I really couldn't say no. I may not have wanted to say no. It was all a little hazy then, and I might have been a little high on the prospect of no strings attached vampire sex. It was like an anonymous hookup, except with none of the safety risks, because it was Ivy. It got a little perverted thrill running through me.
Before I knew it we were in a tiny room with a bed that nearly filled the whole thing, and she bent me back over the bed and crawled on top of me, stripping off my shirt and popping my breasts out of my bra, and biting me.
My neck was hot as fire, and her teeth were like knives sinking into aroused flesh. It hurt. She wasn’t trying to make it not hurt either, just sucking hard, getting her fill from me, and keeping my wrists pinned up over my head. I couldn’t breathe. It had never really been like this with her before. I never thought she would treat me like dinner, but she wasn’t savoring, just gulping it down. She bit down harder, to reach another vein, and my body jerked. I felt half like I would come and half like I would vomit. When she pulled away her mouth was slick with blood, and I could see nothing familiar in her eyes. I was limp and immobile, feeling a bit pale and weak.
“God, you even taste like her,” she muttered, and then suddenly her hands were unbuttoning my jeans, and she was stripping them off, and she unfastened my bra and used it to tie my wrists together and fasten them to the headboard. It was a nice bra too, but I gave it up for lost.
I was naked, in someone else’s form, with Ivy kneeling over me, lusting. And I could feel that lust as easily as if it were my own. I didn’t have the strength to resist her. I never had strength in comparison to her, and now, bound and weak with blood loss, there was no way I could fight it. When she lifted up my legs, bending them forward over me, I was just glad I was flexible enough to take it. She spread them a bit and then leaned in, to look at my pussy. It wasn’t even really my pussy, but it was still hugely embarrassing, and she placed one of her long fingers against my lips, parting them and swirling in the blatant pool of wetness there. And then she leaned in even father, and I though she was going to lick me (which I had never been totally okay with guys doing) but she just breathed me in and then bit down on my inner thigh.
I screamed, and then her fingers shoved inside of me, fucking me roughly, harder and firmer than any of my men had been able to do. She was still drinking and fucking me, and I was sobbing, because I couldn’t tell whether I should try to come when it hurt so much, or whether I should ignore the twinges of pleasure and just come from the anguish of it.
And then suddenly it stopped. I didn’t have the strength to try to lower my legs, so I kept them tucked up. Ivy was gone, and I was still there, tied to the bed, nearly bloodless, and my cunt aching. I had come, I realized, maybe twice, but I just lay there and whimpered.
And then she was back, naked, save for a thick dildo strapped to her hips. I recognized it from one of my perusals of the vampire sex catalogue. It was intended to stretch a little too far and had small retractable points that could create lacerations, so the vampire could drink blood and cum mixed together.
I didn’t even believe Ivy could possibly have one, even as she was bending me over and parting my legs again. The head pressed against me, larger than Kisten, larger than any of my boyfriends, and she leaned and it opened me up like a missile.
Everything was retracted, but it hurt like a motherfucker, and it turned me on way more than I could imagine.
I guess… when I had thought about sex with Ivy, I thought it would sort of be sweet and gentle, like sex with Kisten, except… less. But I had forgotten about Skimmer, about Piscary. I would bet anything that they had introduced Ivy to this stuff.
She held me down and fucked me, her superhuman strength making it plow me open. I was bleeding even without the points, and I could feel my pussy muscles clenching around it as it took me over the edge, and she never stopped fucking me.
I was about to pass out when she finally pulled out and started unstrapping it. I watched her, lightheaded and weak as she sat on the bed, spreading her legs so I could see her pussy. It glistened. Red lines marked where the straps had held the cock onto her. And then she flicked the switch and the tiny horrifying blades popped out. She held it over my face.
“Lick it,” she instructed. I did so, careful to avoid the sharp points. She grinned, then leaned back, spreading her legs wider and started working the dildo into her. She let out occasional little screams as the points bit into her, and I was so wet and aroused again, my bruised flesh aching with the increased blood flow, that I wanted to die.
It was in her, all the way, and she fucked it, in and out ripping herself open. I could smell the tang of her blood, even with all the interference of my own.
Then she pulled it out and dropped it on the pillow. Thin rivulets of blood and cum were trickling down her inner thighs. And she straddled my head, lowering herself so her pussy was right over my face, my nose brushing against her clit. “Lick me,” she hissed.
And I did. I arched my back lifting up as high as I could. I was licking everything, wanting to pull all that bloody cum into my mouth, wanting to push as deep inside her as I could. I couldn’t believe she had done that to herself, and how much I wanted it. I needed to soothe it, to taste it. She was keening on top of me, grinding against my face, nearly suffocating me. I could die of eating her pussy, I thought, and it just made me more turned on.
She came and I gulped down the new flood of it. It tasted just like Ivy.
I hadn’t noticed that she was crying until she rolled off and looked at me, shaking her head slowly. “God…” She swallowed, and wiped her face. “You’re hot again, aren’t you, dirty slut.”
I nearly came at those words.
She moved around to the back and pushed my legs up again. My cunt was swollen and aching, it was dripping; I could feel it as she lifted my legs, running over my perineum and down my asscrack. Then she spread my ass and her tongue was inside it.
This was new. And yet, it was clearly amazing as well, and when she pulled away and thrust two fingers into my anus, I felt like I was going to explode.
She fucked me until I did, three fingers, then four, just pulling me apart if I wouldn’t open for her. I came, gasping and sobbing her name, and passed out.
It was really a long time coming. I should have probably passed out a while sooner, but no, I waited until the ass sex.
Of course, when I woke up, feeling like utter crap from dehydration, blood loss and being basically mummified in cum and dried blood, Ivy was staring at me. I kind of felt like Cinderella, except with the Prince realizing I was some kind of servant, and feeling utterly horrified about obsessing over me. And then I realized that the spells were gone. I glanced toward her, utterly ashamed with myself, and caught sight of Ivy’s face. She looked stricken, utterly destroyed. But when our eyes met there was a flash of something else, of hunger, and that was when she turned and walked out the door.
I haven’t seen her since. I don’t really blame her.
This… yeah, this one, was entirely my fault.
Jenks had to come to get me home. At least Ivy had untied me, but it hurt like Tink’s boot to walk. I looked like someone who had had a night of risky vampire sex, and everyone on the bus knew it. But they didn’t know how risky. They didn’t know that I might have ruined every good thing in my life.
Oh, and I really hate brimstone cookies now. I mean really.
* * *
But still, point out anything I got massively wrong!
I feel like I should be humiliated for this dirty porn, but I guess most of you must be used to it by now.
Title: Rachel's Confession
Author: Alsike
Fandom: The Hollows
Pairing: Rachel/Ivy
Rating: NC-17
AN/Disclaimer: Kim Harrison's
Word Count: 2497
Ivy’s gone again, and as usual, it’s my fault. Well, I’d like to say it’s Al’s fault, but Jenks is giving me that look indicating that it’s high time I stop blaming other people for my mistakes.
This one was absolutely, completely, unintentional though! And the reason I didn’t stop it when it was going too far… well, I don’t have an answer for that, except that it was Ivy, and I guess I just forgot I wasn’t supposed to feel safe with her.
I can’t even walk today, and sitting down is still incredibly painful, so I suppose I’ll just lie here and explain.
I was on a run, personal business though. Al wanted something that Trent had, and it was important that no one recognize me, so Al taught me a way to change my body. I became a cute petite brunette, smoothed out my scars, and even changed my scent, though apparently not entirely. And I went to the club where I was supposed to run into Trent. But I didn’t run into Trent, I ran into Ivy.
It was a heavily vampire club, one of the places where the non-vamps were clearly there to enjoy being the meat in a parasitic relationship. I knew Ivy went out to deal with her blood needs in places like this, but she was really sugared up, and I was sort of surprised. She looked happy and sexy and like she was really enjoying herself. I was twinging myself from all the pheromones, so I couldn’t blame her. My scar, even invisible, was hot and aching like a second pussy, and she scented me. I could tell from the puzzled look on her face that the smell wasn’t quite right, but familiar enough for her to turn.
“Rache-“ she started, before focusing on the source of the scent and realizing that it couldn’t be me. I thought she would just go back to dancing then, but she moved over to me instead. She smiled that hot easy playful smile. “Hey pretty,” she murmured in my ear. “You smell delicious.” And if her voice made me wet my panties, it was totally because of the sugar. “You want to dance?”
I thought I might be able to spot Trent among the crush of bodies, so I followed her out, and let myself move. I liked dancing, and it was nice to dance with Ivy, enjoy her being sexy without feeling like I was being pressured by it. When it was us we could never really just have a good time anymore. She was too invested, and I had to stay at a distance, or risk getting in over my head. But this way she didn’t know it was me and I didn’t have to worry about her not letting me go.
I might have been slightly too optimistic about that. When she snarled at another vampire who touched me, it was probably pretty apparent that I wasn’t entirely autonomous, but I didn’t mind, he was big and scary, and Ivy was Ivy, and I moved closer into her, pressing my face against her neck.
I had pretty much forgotten about the run. It just made me feel like I had a reason to be there and to be doing what I was doing, touching what I was touching. Since it was work, I didn’t have to worry about what it meant. Not that it meant anything yet. I was enjoying feeling invulnerable, dancing with my best friend, even if she didn’t know it was me. I guess I didn’t realize that if someone I didn’t know came up to me and started dancing and taking… uh… liberties, I would be pretty certain they were into me. But I’ve never been very good at putting myself in someone else’s point of view.
I think I must have been pretty far gone by then, because Vampire necks, Do Not Touch, is probably something I should remember. She backed me against a wall then, and kissed me, and it was hot and delicious, but I could really tell that she didn’t know it was me, because her aura didn’t give a twitch. But my scars felt like they were on fire, a gasoline fire, spitting little white-blue sparks everywhere. No one was really holding back with the pheromones there, and if I was already soaking, it totally had more to do with that than with the way Ivy looked, eyes black with heat, her hair falling in her face, her long fingers trailing up my sides.
It was just physical, none of those complicated feelings to mess things up. I was good at physical. It was really one of my only skills. I was a little hesitant about kissing her back, because, you know, she was still a girl, and no matter how turned on I was, I was still not into that, but I think she took that as submission. Because then her hand was suddenly in my pants, fingers moving, parting my lips and running over my clit, and I was so utterly shocked by that and so turned on by her forcefulness, that I may have spread my legs a little and canted my hips towards her.
I’m not trying to defend myself here. I might have been messed up on pheromones, alcohol, and the thrill of illicit sex, but I probably could have suggested that I didn’t want it, and I think Ivy would have let me go. But I didn’t. I will admit it, I was totally down for sex right then, and if it had to be Ivy, so be it. My neck was aching to be bitten, and it wasn’t me, she didn’t want the me I was right then the way she usually did, so I didn’t have to be terrified that she would go too far and keep me. Who wants to bind random snacks you pick up in clubs, right?
“Come upstairs, I want to taste you,” she whispered, and I really couldn't say no. I may not have wanted to say no. It was all a little hazy then, and I might have been a little high on the prospect of no strings attached vampire sex. It was like an anonymous hookup, except with none of the safety risks, because it was Ivy. It got a little perverted thrill running through me.
Before I knew it we were in a tiny room with a bed that nearly filled the whole thing, and she bent me back over the bed and crawled on top of me, stripping off my shirt and popping my breasts out of my bra, and biting me.
My neck was hot as fire, and her teeth were like knives sinking into aroused flesh. It hurt. She wasn’t trying to make it not hurt either, just sucking hard, getting her fill from me, and keeping my wrists pinned up over my head. I couldn’t breathe. It had never really been like this with her before. I never thought she would treat me like dinner, but she wasn’t savoring, just gulping it down. She bit down harder, to reach another vein, and my body jerked. I felt half like I would come and half like I would vomit. When she pulled away her mouth was slick with blood, and I could see nothing familiar in her eyes. I was limp and immobile, feeling a bit pale and weak.
“God, you even taste like her,” she muttered, and then suddenly her hands were unbuttoning my jeans, and she was stripping them off, and she unfastened my bra and used it to tie my wrists together and fasten them to the headboard. It was a nice bra too, but I gave it up for lost.
I was naked, in someone else’s form, with Ivy kneeling over me, lusting. And I could feel that lust as easily as if it were my own. I didn’t have the strength to resist her. I never had strength in comparison to her, and now, bound and weak with blood loss, there was no way I could fight it. When she lifted up my legs, bending them forward over me, I was just glad I was flexible enough to take it. She spread them a bit and then leaned in, to look at my pussy. It wasn’t even really my pussy, but it was still hugely embarrassing, and she placed one of her long fingers against my lips, parting them and swirling in the blatant pool of wetness there. And then she leaned in even father, and I though she was going to lick me (which I had never been totally okay with guys doing) but she just breathed me in and then bit down on my inner thigh.
I screamed, and then her fingers shoved inside of me, fucking me roughly, harder and firmer than any of my men had been able to do. She was still drinking and fucking me, and I was sobbing, because I couldn’t tell whether I should try to come when it hurt so much, or whether I should ignore the twinges of pleasure and just come from the anguish of it.
And then suddenly it stopped. I didn’t have the strength to try to lower my legs, so I kept them tucked up. Ivy was gone, and I was still there, tied to the bed, nearly bloodless, and my cunt aching. I had come, I realized, maybe twice, but I just lay there and whimpered.
And then she was back, naked, save for a thick dildo strapped to her hips. I recognized it from one of my perusals of the vampire sex catalogue. It was intended to stretch a little too far and had small retractable points that could create lacerations, so the vampire could drink blood and cum mixed together.
I didn’t even believe Ivy could possibly have one, even as she was bending me over and parting my legs again. The head pressed against me, larger than Kisten, larger than any of my boyfriends, and she leaned and it opened me up like a missile.
Everything was retracted, but it hurt like a motherfucker, and it turned me on way more than I could imagine.
I guess… when I had thought about sex with Ivy, I thought it would sort of be sweet and gentle, like sex with Kisten, except… less. But I had forgotten about Skimmer, about Piscary. I would bet anything that they had introduced Ivy to this stuff.
She held me down and fucked me, her superhuman strength making it plow me open. I was bleeding even without the points, and I could feel my pussy muscles clenching around it as it took me over the edge, and she never stopped fucking me.
I was about to pass out when she finally pulled out and started unstrapping it. I watched her, lightheaded and weak as she sat on the bed, spreading her legs so I could see her pussy. It glistened. Red lines marked where the straps had held the cock onto her. And then she flicked the switch and the tiny horrifying blades popped out. She held it over my face.
“Lick it,” she instructed. I did so, careful to avoid the sharp points. She grinned, then leaned back, spreading her legs wider and started working the dildo into her. She let out occasional little screams as the points bit into her, and I was so wet and aroused again, my bruised flesh aching with the increased blood flow, that I wanted to die.
It was in her, all the way, and she fucked it, in and out ripping herself open. I could smell the tang of her blood, even with all the interference of my own.
Then she pulled it out and dropped it on the pillow. Thin rivulets of blood and cum were trickling down her inner thighs. And she straddled my head, lowering herself so her pussy was right over my face, my nose brushing against her clit. “Lick me,” she hissed.
And I did. I arched my back lifting up as high as I could. I was licking everything, wanting to pull all that bloody cum into my mouth, wanting to push as deep inside her as I could. I couldn’t believe she had done that to herself, and how much I wanted it. I needed to soothe it, to taste it. She was keening on top of me, grinding against my face, nearly suffocating me. I could die of eating her pussy, I thought, and it just made me more turned on.
She came and I gulped down the new flood of it. It tasted just like Ivy.
I hadn’t noticed that she was crying until she rolled off and looked at me, shaking her head slowly. “God…” She swallowed, and wiped her face. “You’re hot again, aren’t you, dirty slut.”
I nearly came at those words.
She moved around to the back and pushed my legs up again. My cunt was swollen and aching, it was dripping; I could feel it as she lifted my legs, running over my perineum and down my asscrack. Then she spread my ass and her tongue was inside it.
This was new. And yet, it was clearly amazing as well, and when she pulled away and thrust two fingers into my anus, I felt like I was going to explode.
She fucked me until I did, three fingers, then four, just pulling me apart if I wouldn’t open for her. I came, gasping and sobbing her name, and passed out.
It was really a long time coming. I should have probably passed out a while sooner, but no, I waited until the ass sex.
Of course, when I woke up, feeling like utter crap from dehydration, blood loss and being basically mummified in cum and dried blood, Ivy was staring at me. I kind of felt like Cinderella, except with the Prince realizing I was some kind of servant, and feeling utterly horrified about obsessing over me. And then I realized that the spells were gone. I glanced toward her, utterly ashamed with myself, and caught sight of Ivy’s face. She looked stricken, utterly destroyed. But when our eyes met there was a flash of something else, of hunger, and that was when she turned and walked out the door.
I haven’t seen her since. I don’t really blame her.
This… yeah, this one, was entirely my fault.
Jenks had to come to get me home. At least Ivy had untied me, but it hurt like Tink’s boot to walk. I looked like someone who had had a night of risky vampire sex, and everyone on the bus knew it. But they didn’t know how risky. They didn’t know that I might have ruined every good thing in my life.
Oh, and I really hate brimstone cookies now. I mean really.
* * *