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Light My Fire

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Desire, where are you when I need you most?
Can't you tell the way I long for you?
I think it's unfairly wrong of you teasing me like you do baby.
Could it be you do it just for fun, when you know I am the only one?
Cause you know you are the only one I desire

 

Natsu likes the short skirts that Lucy wears, likes the way they’re always just short enough they barely cover her ass, seem to skim the very top of her thighs. The skirt she’s wearing today might be his favorite, a deep red with a lace trim that he swears makes up a third of the skirt, and it’s a tease, seeing the peek of tan, creamy skin through the lace flowers. They look more like curled flames, and that has heat settling low in his stomach like he’s on fire already, and maybe he is.

It’s hard to gauge when his skin feels so tight, and there are sparks of electricity trailing down his back, down his stomach, straight to his dick. He’s not ashamed to admit that he’s already hard, has been hard the minute he’s seen her at the guildhall earlier, leaning over the bar to get a better view of Mirajane’s new dress or something. He doesn’t really know, didn’t care then, and doesn’t know, but he’s glad that they get a chance to recreate it. She’s bent over the counter of her small kitchen, skirt barely covering anything and her panties down at her ankles, his fingers drenched already and he’s only a knuckle deep. She lets out a loud pant when he buries them as deep as he can get them, the palm of his hand brushing her clit.

She looks perfect to him like this, sweaty, back arched and breasts out. She doesn’t wear a bra, and he likes the view of her nipples hard against the thin fabric of her tank top, and the shameless sound sheets out when he flicks a nipple makes him tug and pull, likes the way she stutters out his name when he thrusts his fingers and curls, brushing against a spot that has her jerking her head back when he focuses on that one spot. She’s a wet mess down there, dripping over his hand, and that’s definitely his fault. He’s had his fingers buried inside of her since the minute they walked through her door, throwing Happy a lazy, “Goodnight!” as the flying cat made his way to Charle’s. 

Because the two of them, they were finally fucking official, something Natsu is glad for because he’s not sure how much longer he was going to be able to hold out. Lucy was the one good thing that settled him, calmed him, outside of Happy - the one person that stood by him, no matter what, who took care of him when he was sick, he was injured. She’s the person that made his flames burn brighter, hotter.  She’s squeezing his fingers tight, knows she’s going to be even tighter around his dick because they’ve only done this a few times, but she says she likes it- the sensation of being stretched around him. He doesn’t have the balls to tell her he likes it too, because it’s one of his favorite things to do - watch the way his dick slides into her. He likes it almost as he likes getting her off. Doesn’t matter if it’s his fingers his tongue or his dick- he likes the way she looks when she comes undone. 

Because it’s a sight when her legs are shaking and her white knuckle grip on the counter is the only thing keeping her standing, and she’s spasming around the fingers buried to the pam inside of her, his finger still pulling and tugging at her nipples, leaving bites on her neck that he knows will bruise. She’d been fucking teasing him all night, wearing his color, wearing something so short, and she’d done it on purpose . There’s that part of him, that’s maybe more dragon than man because that strokes something in him, something primal in him. 

And he’s happy to give her what she wants when she wants it. She’d told him this morning she wanted him to fuck her, didn’t want him to take his time and be slow anymore. 

“I’m not made of glass, Natsu! I mean, seriously, what - are you scared?” And maybe he is, okay he definitely is because she’s so fucking easy to mark up, bruise, but he’s not one to back down from a challenge. 

So he sets out on fucking her, especially when she strolls through the guildhall that evening decked out like that and, keeps herself entertained with their friends and sits beside him like she wasn’t the reason why all the blood in his body was centered at his dick. He thought about fucking her at the party, but then she couldn’t be as loud as she is right now, because even her little moan of protest makes his dick leak, precum building up at the head and he’s so happy when he tears his pants down his hips, twists his fingers as he pulls them out. 

She’s soft, and tiny, and pliant after she comes, and all flushed skin and sweaty, and it’s his favorite smell, the smell fo her - and he breathes it in deep, centers himself when pushes her flat against the counter. 

Enjoys the yelp she lets out when he kicks her legs apart. “Hey Luce, what’d you say earlier? That you wanted me to fuck you?” He doesn’t let her respond, just lets her mouth open so he can hear the strained huff of air she lets out when he buries himself balls deep inside her. 

She cries out when he pulls out and slams back in, thrusting as deep as he can get, and then tries to get even deeper. He runs hotter than her, but the inside of her pussy is the best type of stifling heat, the best kind of grip, the place he wishes he could call home and stay. It’s torture, keeping her pinned while forcing himself as hard and deep as he can, makes sure to keep himself in check because she’s clenching every time his balls brush against her cheeks, and he can’t help it, pulling the skirt up to look at the way her cheeks ripple when his hips are flush against him. 

She’s everything to him, and he wants her to feel it, wants her to feel him, wants to worm his way as deep in her as he can get because he can’t imagine a day without her at his side. It’s moments like this that he can show her because Natsu’s not good with words, better at using his body to talk for him. Where words failed him, his body never did. 

And it doesn’t fail him now, even when she’s squeezing him even tighter, even when she’s thrusting her hips back, and it’s good - the friction she creates around him when she swivels her hips to meet his. It feels amazing, the way she doesn’t stop clenching, and he shouldn’t fuck her through it but he does. He should give her a minute, he should because it’s gotta be intense, but then his fingers are plucking at her clit, thumb pressing against it when his balls slap her cheeks, and she doesn’t stop clenching around him. She’s just letting out loud moans, sharp cries that sound good mixed with the squelching sounds of his dick entering her. 

His eyes roll back to his head when he finally feels the rush, his balls tightening, and she’s frantic, all twitching legs and jolting hips. She’s sprawled across the counter, hair a mess, and she looks good when she comes again, with his dick buried to the hilt. His vision blacks out, just for a second, because with each clench he can feel his dick pulsing. 

He’s panting, lips trailing against her shoulder, wants to ask the question that’s on the tip of his tongue, but like usual - she beats him to it.

“That’s exactly what I wanted, Natsu,” and he smiles against her neck when she continues, “But gross, we need a shower.”

That’s his girl.