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It’s for a good cause, Lucy. Think about how many people this could help.
Lucy repeated the words over and over in her head like a mantra, as if saying it enough times would magically settle the nervous flutter in her chest.
It’s for Magnolia. It’s for everyone.
…And maybe, maybe, if I played my cards right, I could convince whoever wins to take me to that ridiculously fancy gourmet restaurant across town. The one with the two-month waiting list and prices that make my wallet cry just thinking about it.
I mean… if they’re already spending that much money, what’s one fancy dinner?
Lucy paused. Then immediately shook her head hard, as if physically ejecting the thought.
“No. Bad Lucy,” she muttered under her breath. “This is for charity.”
Not for five-star meals. Not for personal gain—
Okay, maybe a little for personal gain.
She pressed her hands to her cheeks, trying to refocus.
This whole thing had started as one of Mira’s “wonderful” ideas, though Lucy suspected Cana had heavily contributed to the chaos.
After everything that had happened with the Alvarez Empire War, Magnolia had been left in rough shape. Buildings destroyed, businesses struggling to reopen, families trying to piece things back together after the devastation caused by the Spriggan 12, Zeref, and, well… Acnologia.
Fairy Tail did what it always did best: step up.
The guild had already helped with repairs, taken on extra jobs, and practically worked themselves into the ground trying to restore the town. But even that wasn’t enough.
So someone, Lucy was still convinced it was Cana, had suggested an auction.
A charity event. A date auction. A date auction with the girls of Fairy Tail being bid as dates for one night.
Lucy had thought it was a joke at first. Then Mira smiled. And suddenly it was very, very real.
It was… admittedly a little outdated. The whole only the girls being auctioned off thing wasn’t exactly progressive, and Lucy had definitely raised a brow at that.
But the moment someone jokingly suggested including the boys, it had been immediately, unanimously, and violently shut down. Because everyone knew exactly how that would go. Natsu would ask his date to square up and fight him, Gray would somehow end up half-naked and scaring the poor soul away, and Elfman would turn the whole thing into some kind of “manly” competition that would probably level half the building.
In short? More destruction. Which was the exact opposite of what they were trying to fix.
That’s why Erza had been banned too. Not that she’d wanted to participate in the first place, her mind was way too preoccupied by a certain bluenette cough Jellal cough.
So, girls only it was.
Of course, there had been… guidelines.
Only volunteers could participate, because Fairy Tail was, above all else, a family. No one was forced into anything.
Which was exactly why several people had immediately opted out.
Levy declined with a soft smile after Gajeel had spent the entire time glaring daggers at Mira who was explaining the concept of the auction. Juvia had turned into a water puddle, saying something along the lines of “Juvia only wants to go on a date with Gray-sama” once she heard what it entailed. Kinana, surprisingly, had also declined with a polite bow, mentioning she already had a boyfriend, much to everyone’s shock. She hadn’t elaborated, despite the barrage of curious questions that followed. No one questioned Bisca sitting out. And Wendy, well, Wendy had been banned from even being mentioned.
Which left…
Herself.
Mira.
Cana.
Lisanna.
Laki.
Evergreen.
And somehow, despite every instinct telling her to sit this one out, Lucy had found herself standing backstage, dressed up, heart racing, and questioning every life decision that had led her here.
All because she couldn’t bring herself to not help. That, and Cana and Mira had very effectively guilt-tripped and roped her into it.
“…This better be worth it,” she muttered quietly.
The hum of the crowd swelled on the other side of the curtain, loud and expectant, the energy practically vibrating through the floorboards.
Out front, the stage lights brightened.
“And good evening, everyone!” Levy’s voice rang out, warm and clear, carrying easily across the hall.
A cheer followed almost immediately.
Freed stood beside her, composed as ever, though there was a faint curve to his lips that suggested he was enjoying this far more than he let on. “Thank you all for coming tonight,” he added smoothly. “Your generosity will go a long way in helping rebuild Magnolia.”
“Every bid counts!” Levy chimed in brightly. “And trust us, you’re going to want to bid.”
A ripple of laughter moved through the crowd.
Freed adjusted his prop glasses slightly. “We’ll be introducing Fairy Tail’s finest one by one. Remember, this is all for charity… though we can’t guarantee you won’t enjoy yourselves along the way.”
The crowd laughed again.
Lucy, watching from the wings, pressed her lips together.
Oh no. They were good at this.
“Alright!” Levy clapped her hands together lightly. “Let’s start strong, shall we?”
Freed inclined his head. “Our first participant is someone many of you already know… and for very good reason.”
Levy grinned. “Kind, elegant, an absolute sweetheart—”
Freed added, just a touch drier, “—and a former cover model for Sorcerer’s Weekly. Which means, yes, you’ve probably seen her face on someone’s bedroom walls.”
The crowd laughed, a few cheers getting noticeably louder.
Lucy choked backstage.
Levy leaned in, clearly enjoying herself now. “She’s graced more pages than we can count, broken hearts across Fiore, and somehow still finds time to run a bar, and take care of an entire guild.” Her smile turned just a little more mischievous. “She’s sweet, attentive, and will absolutely make your evening unforgettable—”
Freed paused, then added smoothly, “—but we would be remiss not to mention her other… side.”
There was a shift in the room. Curious and anticipatory.
Levy’s voice dropped. “Because while she may look like an angel—”
Freed finished, calm and deliberate, “—she wields Satan Soul magic.”
A collective ohhh rolled through the crowd.
Levy straightened with a grin. “So really, you’re getting the best of both worlds.”
Freed nodded once. “Devil in the streets and—”
Levy elbowed him lightly.
He cleared his throat. “—a perfectly charming companion for the evening.”
Levy beamed. “She’ll treat you to a wonderful evening, take care of you, and make sure you leave with a smile on your face—”
Freed paused just long enough to add, “—one way or another.”
The crowd howled.
Lucy slapped a hand over her face. “Oh my God.”
And that, right there, was exactly the problem. Because the ‘details’ of what this evening actually entailed had been… conveniently vague.
It was advertised as a date. Time spent together. Dinner, company, maybe a walk through Magnolia, simple enough on paper. But no one had explicitly outlined where the boundaries started… or ended.
Not that anyone in Magnolia would be stupid enough to actually try anything.
This was Fairy Tail.
Everyone participating knew exactly who they were bidding on. These weren’t helpless girls being paraded on a stage, they were some of the strongest mages in Fiore. Women who could level buildings, take down monsters, and, if necessary, absolutely ruin anyone who crossed a line.
Safety had never really been the concern. If anything, it was the bidders who should be worried.
Still… Lucy’s brain helpfully supplied implications of what the “date” could mean and what the other person might want to do with her. Hold hands. Kiss her. Maybe even want to have sex?
Not that Lucy was opposed to the idea.
God, she hadn’t had good sex in forever with the Alvarez invasion, rebuilding the guild, and Natsu perpetually ruining all her chances of bringing home any guys by hiding in her room and scaring them half to death just because he found it funny.
And lately… Lucy had been thinking about sex more than she cared to admit. Being wanted. Really wanted. Not just glanced at or politely complimented, being desired. Worshipped, even.
But not like this. Not with someone who could turn out to be a total creep once the night went on.
Her lips pressed into a thin line as she shook the thought away. “No,” she muttered under her breath. “Focus.”
This wasn’t about that. This was about charity.
…But if it was going to turn into something more? Lucy swallowed. At the very least, she deserved someone who knew what they were doing.
She turned to the stage again as Levy straightened, voice bright again. “Give it up for our very own She-Devil, Mirajane Strauss!”
The curtains parted and Mira stepped out like she owned the stage.
The soft ivory dress draped effortlessly off her shoulders, elegant and deceptively simple, hugging her just enough to remind everyone exactly why she’d graced so many covers. The slit along her leg revealed just a hint of movement as she walked, graceful and unhurried. Her silver hair framed her face perfectly, catching the light, but it was her expression that truly held the room.
Sweet. Warm. And just a little dangerous.
Like she knew exactly what people were thinking, and wasn’t opposed to it.
The reaction was immediate. Cheers. Whistles. Someone very loudly shouted, “I LOVE YOU MIRAJANE!”
Lucy peeked from backstage and immediately slumped. “…Yeah,” she muttered. “I’m definitely doomed.”
Mira gave a small, elegant wave, completely at ease, before settling at center stage. Her smile softened just enough to feel personal, like she was looking at you.
Hook. Line. Sinker.
Freed stepped forward. “Bidding will start at—”
“100,000!” someone yelled.
“200,000!”
“300,000!”
Levy blinked. “Well! That escalated quickly!”
Mira only laughed softly, hand brushing lightly against her cheek, entirely in control as the numbers climbed.
Lucy stared. “…I shouldn’t have signed up for this.”
She walked back to one of the mirrors backstage and took a look at her appearance.
Her electric blue dress hugged her curves like a second skin, the plunging neckline showcasing her incredible cleavage in a way that made her pulse quicken just gazing at it. The fabric clung to her toned, mile-long legs, the high slit teasing glimpses of smooth skin and her black lace underwear, with every subtle shift.
Cancer had outdone himself with her hair, twisting it into a messy updo that looked effortlessly tousled, strands framing her face just so. Her makeup was flawless, smoky eyes that deepened her gaze, lips painted a glittery nude that promised mischief. It enhanced her features in a way that made her look… dangerous.
Like someone worth bidding on.
“…You look amazing,” Cana’s voice carried over all the noise as she leaned lazily against the doorframe of the dressing room.
Lucy huffed, turning away from the mirror. “That’s not the point.”
Cana pushed off the frame and sauntered over, draping an arm over Lucy’s shoulder with easy familiarity. In her other hand, she held out a flask. “Liquid courage,” she said.
Lucy eyed it and then made a face. “I’m not drinking before I get auctioned off,” she said flatly.
“Your loss,” Cana shrugged, taking a swig herself.
Lucy groaned, but before she could respond—
The roar of the crowd swelled from the other side of the curtain.
“And going once. Going twice. Sold at five hundred and fifty thousand jewels!”
Lucy blinked. “…Five hundred and—what?”
Cana grinned. “Yeah. Mira’s doing just fine.”
Lucy hesitated, peeking slightly through the curtain. And there she was, Mira, smiling serenely as some wealthy-looking man nearly tripped over himself rushing forward to claim his… date.
Lucy’s stomach twisted for a split second. Not out of worry. Mira could absolutely handle herself. If anything, Lucy pitied whoever thought this was going to be a simple night.
“…Well,” Lucy said slowly, leaning back. “If anyone can handle that, it’s her.”
“Exactly,” Cana said, tipping her flask in agreement. “Which means you should be worrying about you.”
Lucy gave her a look.
Cana just smirked. “Relax,” she added. “It won’t be that bad. And if your charming personality doesn’t do the trick…” Her gaze flicked pointedly over Lucy’s cleavage. “…that rack alone is definitely getting you a few bids.”
Lucy spluttered. “Cana!”
“What? It’s true.”
Lucy groaned, covering her face with one hand. “I hate you.”
“You love me.”
“…Unfortunately.”
A beat of silence passed and then Lucy hesitated. “…I did have a backup plan.”
Cana’s brow lifted. “Oh?”
Lucy lowered her hands slowly. “I asked Natsu to bid on me if… no one else does.”
There was a beat of silence and then Cana choked on her drink. “You asked Natsu?” She wheezed, wiping her mouth. “Lucy, that’s not a backup plan. That’s a disaster waiting to happen.”
“He promised!” Lucy said defensively. “I made him swear!”
“On what?” She asked dryly. “His last brain cell?”
Lucy scowled. “He can be reliable when he wants to be!”
“Yeah, when it comes to fighting. Not social events,” Cana shot back immediately.
Lucy opened her mouth. Paused. Closed it again. “…That’s not the point.”
Cana snorted. “You’re either going to get outbid immediately or end up on the most chaotic ‘date’ Magnolia has ever seen.”
Lucy groaned again, slumping back in her chair. “Why did I do this? Natsu and I don’t even like each other like that.”
“Because,” Cana said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder, “you care.” Lucy glanced up at her and Cana’s expression softened just a little. “Everyone does. Magnolia took a hit after the invasion. This is just… our way of helping.”
Lucy’s shoulders eased slightly at that. “…Yeah,” she admitted quietly. “I know.”
Cana was about to add something else when a loud crash echoed out front. Her and Lucy exchanged a look.
“What was that?” Lucy asked slowly.
Cana already looked amused. “…Let’s find out.”
They peeked out from behind the curtain just in time to see chaos unfolding. A man with a very unfortunate mustache stood near the stage, looking extremely pleased with himself.
Apparently, he had won the bid for Evergreen.
Bad idea.
Because the moment he reached for her—
“NOT ON MY WATCH!”
Elfman.
Lucy’s eyes widened. “…Oh no.”
The guild hall went completely still and then chaos erupted.
“FULL-BODIED MAAAAAAN—!”
“ELF—WAIT—!”
“DO NOT INTERRUPT MY—!”
Before anyone could react properly, Bixlow and Alzack lunged forward, trying to stop him, but it was already too late.
Elfman had decided.
With zero hesitation, he grabbed Evergreen, threw her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing, and marched straight off the stage.
“HEY!” Evergreen protested, completely unbothered. “PUT ME DOWN!”
“No!” Elfman barked. “THIS IS MY MANLY DECISION!”
“…YOU CAN’T JUST ABDUCT ME BECAUSE YOU LOST. THIS IS NOT HOW AUCTIONS WORK—”
The door slammed behind them.
Silence. Utter, complete silence.
Lucy and Cana stood frozen in the wings.
“…Did he just—” Lucy started.
Cana blinked. “…Kidnap her?”
The entire guild hall collectively processed what had just happened.
“…Well,” Lucy said slowly, turning back to Cana. “…I might need that drink.”
Cana didn’t even hesitate as she handed over the flask to Lucy who took a long, long sip.
“…Alright,” Cana said, pushing off the wall with a lazy stretch. “Looks like it’s my turn.” She grinned, already stepping away toward the curtain. “Try not to trip. Or faint. Or marry someone by accident.”
“Cana—!”
But Cana only waved over her shoulder. “Catch ya later, Lucy,” she called out, her voice husky from the drinks she'd already knocked back. “It's my turn to shine—or get bought, whichever comes first.” She winked, adjusting the skimpy top that barely contained her ample curves, before striding up to the stage with that signature swagger, hips swaying.
Lucy lingered in the wings, her heart pounding against her ribs as she watched Cana take her spot under the spotlight. She smoothed her hands over her dress once more, the fabric whispering against her skin. Tugging gently at the neckline, she adjusted her cleavage, pushing her breasts up just a fraction higher to accentuate the deep valley that had turned heads more times than she could count.
Okay, Lucy, you've got this, she told herself in a fierce internal pep talk, her reflection from earlier still fresh in her mind. All those missions where you played the seduction card, batting your lashes and shoving your tits in the faces of creeps, Team Natsu's secret weapon. Sure, half the time it backfired spectacularly, like that one job where the bandit chief just laughed and tied you up instead. But the other times? You got them eating out of your hand. Experience counts for something, right? There has to be someone out here tonight who'll bite.
Lucy took a deep breath, feeling the flutter of nerves twist into something sharper, more determined. Her toned legs shifted beneath the dress's high slit, the cool air brushing her thighs and sending a shiver up her spine. Lips curving into a practiced, sultry smile, she rehearsed her seduction tactics in her head: the coy tilt of her head, the lingering eye contact that promised secrets, the subtle arch of her back to highlight every curve.
No way it all failed her now, not when the stakes were this high, the guild counting on her to rake in the jewels.
Up on stage, Freed’s voice boomed, drawing bids for Cana like wildfire. “Our fiery card mage, the one and only Cana Alberona! Who'll claim this wild one for the night?”
The crowd erupted, hands shooting up, but one voice cut through louder than the rest.
Bacchus from Quatro Cerberus, his booming laugh echoing as he slammed a fist on his table. “350,000 jewels! She's mine, ya bastards!”
Surprise rippled through the hall, whispers spread like smoke.
Cana's on-again, off-again fling?
The tension in her stance melted into a smirk, her eyes locking with his across the room, charged with that familiar spark of heat and history.
The gavel fell with a crack. “Sold to Bacchus Groh for three hundred and fifty thousand jewels! Come claim your date for the night.”
Cana sauntered off stage toward him, tossing a playful salute over her shoulder to Lucy, her laughter trailing behind like an invitation to whatever chaos awaited.
“Now then!” Levy said brightly, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Up next is someone who truly embodies the heart of Fairy Tail, the kind that beats fast when she's around!”
Freed adjusted his hat, a sly smile creeping onto his face. “Someone who can light up a room simply by being in it... or should I say, by bouncing in it?”
Levy grinned wider, leaning into the mic. “A woman who’s as strong as she is beautiful, those curves could wrestle a dragon into submission. Trust me, Natsu knows.”
Hooting and hollering broke out in the guild hall as someone patted Natsu on the back, the pink-haired dragon slayer turning red at the implication.
Freed added smoothly, “—and who has, quite literally, saved more lives than most of you have jewels in your pocket. Though with her assets, she'd probably save your night too.”
A ripple of impressed, and a few wolfish murmurs moved through the crowd, laughter bubbling up like cheap ale.
Lucy swallowed hard, her cheeks flushing just a touch.
Levy and Freed were overdoing it!
Levy’s voice softened, “She’s the kind of girl who will steal your heart… and probably your last name if you’re not careful.”
Freed inclined his head, his tone laced with suspense. “Elegant. Intelligent. And far more dangerous than she appears—”
Lucy’s lips twitched faintly, fighting a grin. “…No pressure,” she whispered under her breath, though her pulse was racing like she’d just run a marathon.
Levy leaned in closer to the mic, her voice dropping into something playful and conspiratorial, like sharing guild gossip over drinks. “And if you’re lucky…” she added, winking at the crowd, “…she might just let you keep her for the night. However, handle with care. That Sorcerer's Weekly winner for 'best rack in Fiore' for two years straight isn't just for show. It could knock you out cold.”
The crowd chuckled, whistles and catcalls building into a rowdy cheer..
Freed smirked slightly, “Or at least keep you entertained... if you can handle the full illumination of our celestial star.”
Levy clapped her hands once, her grin infectious. “Without further ado, give it up for Fairy Tail’s very own—”
The curtains began to part with a dramatic swish.
Lucy stepped forward, her heart pounding but her stride pure confidence. And the world seemed to shift, the spotlight catching her like a lover's gaze.
Her heels clicked softly against the stage floor as she walked out, each step measured, controlled, and oh-so-tempting. The electric blue of her dress caught the light, the fabric hugging her in all the right places, clinging to her hips, accentuating those award-winning breasts that strained just enough against the neckline to tease without mercy, flowing with her movements as she made her way to center stage.
Her posture was perfect. Poised. Confident, with a sway that screamed 'come hither' without saying a word. Her blonde hair framed her face just enough to draw attention to her eyes, bright, expressive, and steady as she looked out at the crowd..
She stopped. Took a breath, her chest rising in a way that drew every eye in the room. Then smiled. Soft, warm, and just a little bit… knowing, like she was already picturing who she'd drag off for a private celebration.
Levy beamed, her voice booming with pride. “—Lucy Heartfilia!”
The applause exploded, mixed with hoots and hollers, as Lucy waved, her seductive charm already lighting up the night.
Freed stepped forward, voice smooth and commanding. “Bidding for Lucy Heartfilia will begin at—”
“Two hundred thousand.”
The number cut through the room like a blade.
Lucy’s smile faltered. Slowly, slowly, her eyes drifted toward the source, and her blood ran cold. “…You’ve got to be kidding me,” she whispered under her breath.
Because of course. Of course it was him.
Duke Sawarr.
He sat near the front. Short, round, and dressed in expensive fabrics that somehow still couldn’t hide the way he seemed to spill out of them, his greasy hair slicked back with those ridiculous curled ends framing his face. The small crown perched on his head glinted under the lights as he leaned back in his chair, smiling like he’d already won.
Like she was already his.
Lucy’s stomach dropped as memories hit all at once.
Her father’s voice. Cold. Final. “You will marry him.” The abduction by Phantom Lord, dragging her away like property. And then later, after her father’s bankruptcy and death, the Junelle family buying out what remained of the Heartfilia Konzern.
His visits. His persistence. His sleazy smile.
“I can give it all back to you, Lucy,” he’d say, over and over. “All you have to do is say yes.”
Her hands curled slightly at her sides.
No. Absolutely not.
Freed cleared his throat lightly, trying to recover the atmosphere. “We have an opening bid of two hundred thousand jewels—”
“Three hundred thousand.”
Lucy blinked, her head snapped toward the side.
There he was, sprawled back in his chair like he didn’t have a care in the world. Natsu Dragneel. Grinning like a fool.
Lucy’s breath caught.
You idiot.
Duke Sawarr’s smile twitched. “Four hundred thousand.”
“Four fifty.”
Lucy’s heart started pounding harder, but for an entirely different reason now.
Natsu didn’t even look at the duke. He just rested his chin on his hand, bored, like this was nothing more than a casual game. Like he hadn’t just inserted himself into a bidding war with a man who could probably buy half of Magnolia without blinking.
Sawarr’s expression darkened. “Five hundred thousand.”
A ripple moved through the crowd. That was… a lot. Too much.
Lucy’s stomach twisted. Because she knew Natsu didn’t have that kind of money. Hell, on a good day, he barely had enough to cover his own meals. Her fingers tightened in her dress.
This is stupid. He’s going to bankrupt himself over this. Over me.
Her jaw set. She wasn’t letting that happen. Even if it meant—
Lucy inhaled slowly, steadying herself.
Worst case? She’d handle it. She wasn’t helpless. She had her Celestial spirits. Taurus would happily knock Sawarr unconscious and Virgo would tie him up till the morning without even asking questions.
Problem solved. Easy.
…Probably.
Her shoulders squared slightly.
If it came down to it, she’d deal with it. She always did.
Freed looked between the bidders. “We have five hundred thousand—”
“Six hundred.”
The room went still again and Lucy blinked.
Sawarr leaned forward now, irritation bleeding into his voice. “Seven hundred thousand.”
Natsu straightened slightly, brows pulling together for the first time.
Lucy’s chest tightened.
Stop. Please stop. This isn’t funny anymore.
She glanced at him, just for a second, silently pleading.
Don’t do this.
For once, just once, he seemed to understand. His jaw clenched and he didn’t raise his hand again.
Relief and something else twisted together in Lucy’s chest.
Good. That was good. That was—
“Eight hundred thousand.”
The crowd erupted.
Lucy’s head snapped toward the new voice and her pulse spiked.
Sawarr’s face turned an ugly shade of red. “Nine hundred thousand!”
And then—
“One million.”
The voice was deep and calm. Completely unbothered by the absolute chaos it had just dropped into the room, like a thunderclap rolling through a storm of whispers and gasps.
Lucy’s breath hitched, her skin prickling as if lightning had just skimmed her nerves.
The number hung in the air, heavy, impossible.
One million jewels.
The highest bid of the night.
No one moved. No one breathed.
Slowly, almost hesitantly, heads began to turn. Searching. Looking for the one person insane enough to throw out a number like that so casually.
Lucy didn’t follow their gaze because she knew that voice.
Knew it in the way it rumbled low during guild brawls, or teased her with that rare, gravelly edge when they'd flirt over drinks after a mission.
“…Oh, Mira’s going to have a field day with this one,” she breathed.
Slowly, almost like she was afraid of what she’d see, she turned her head.
And there he was. Laxus Dreyer.
Lounging back in his chair like he owned the damn place, his tailored black suit hugging his broad shoulders and muscled frame with effortless precision. The fabric stretched just right across his chest, the top button of his white shirt undone to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of tanned skin and the faint shadow of his collarbone.
He looked like he'd already won the night and didn't need to play by the rules. Stormy grey eyes locked on the stage, on her, assessing her with a slow, predatory interest that made her thighs clench involuntarily.
Those eyes roamed, deliberate and unhurried, tracing the curve of her hips in that skimpy dress, lingering on the swell of her breasts rising with each shallow breath, before flicking back to her face. A faint smirk tugged at his lips, like he knew exactly the effect he was having.
Lucy’s brain short-circuited.
What.
What?
What the hell?
A rush of heat flooded her chest, sharp, sudden, and anything but unwelcome.
No. Not unwelcome. Confusing as fuck!
Because along with the shock… something else stirred low in her belly. Something warm and heavy in a way that made her pulse stutter and her nipples harden against the thin fabric of her dress.
Lucy swallowed hard, her mouth dry, throat tight.
Why was he—?
They weren’t close. Not like that.
They were guildmates, yeah. Comrades who'd shared battles and laughs. He'd saved her ass once or twice, she'd patched his wounds after. They'd flirted on occasion, playful jabs, heated glances across the guild hall, but nothing like this. Nothing that screamed he wanted to pin her down and fuck her senseless.
One million jewels? That wasn’t casual. That wasn’t just helping out a friend.
Her mind raced, thoughts tumbling like her heart in her chest. Was he just trying to save her from that slimy Duke Sawarr? But then—
One. Million. Jewels.
Did he even know how much that is?! She could pay around two years of her rent with that!
Her gaze flicked back to him, unable to look away from the way his fingers drummed lazily against the chair, strong and calloused, the kind that could grip her hips hard enough to bruise.
Shut up, Lucy! Bad Lucy! You don’t even know why he’s doing this.
Lucy nervously gulped, trying to clear her head but failed.
This is insane. He’s insane. Why would he spend that much on me?
And worse, why did that thought send another surge of excitement through her, her body betraying her with that all-too-familiar throb? The prospect of spending the night with him, his massive frame over hers, those stormy eyes darkening as he spread her—
She pressed her lips together, trying to steady herself, but her pulse hammered wildly now, every beat echoing the slick heat building in her core. Her cheeks burned, and she wondered if he could see it, the way her body responded to his gaze, aching for more than just rescue.
Across the room, Duke Sawarr looked like he might actually combust. His face had gone blotchy red, eyes darting wildly between Laxus and the stage. “One—one million one—”
“One million! One million!” A chorus of shrill, chaotic voices cut him off. Bixlow’s babies.
They swarmed him. Right into his face.
“ONE MILLION—!”
“ONE MILLION!”
Sawarr flailed. “Get these things off me!”
The distraction was instant. Perfect.
Having teamed up with Laxus for so many years wasn’t it vain, Freed guessed his intention and the reason behind Bixlow’s diversion almost immediately. He didn’t hesitate. “ONE MILLION JEWELS—” his voice rang out, sharp and decisive, cutting clean through the noise. “GOING ONCE.”
Sawarr was still swatting at the floating heads, completely derailed.
Lucy blinked.
Oh. Oh that was—that was deliberate.
“GOING TWICE.”
Sawarr finally shoved one away, scrambling to recover. “WAIT—!”
“Sold.” The gavel came down with a crack that echoed through the entire hall. “—to Laxus Dreyar.”
The crowd exploded.
Lucy didn’t hear it. Didn’t process it. Because her gaze was still locked on him.
And Laxus… Laxus was already looking right back at her. He wasn’t smirking this time. Just… watching. Slowly and intently. Like he’d just bought something valuable, and intended to make full use of it.
Lucy’s breath caught. “…Oh,” she whispered faintly.
Freed didn’t even try to hide the curve of his lips this time. “Well,” he drawled, as his gaze flicked between Lucy and the man in question, “I believe that concludes our bidding.”
A beat passed.
Then, with just enough bite to make the crowd stir again.
“Laxus,” he added smoothly, “would you care to come collect your prize? You’ve certainly earned it.”
A ripple of wolf whistles and hooting followed, the atmosphere snapping back to life now that the shock had somewhere to go.
Lucy’s stomach flipped.
Prize. God.
From across the room, Laxus didn’t react immediately. He just leaned back for half a second longer, like he was savoring it, the noise, the attention, the way every eye in the room had shifted to him. Then, finally, he moved. Unhurried and deliberate. He pushed himself up from his chair in one smooth motion, broad shoulders rolling slightly as he straightened to his full height. The fitted blazer, the open collar, the faint crackle of magic that always seemed to cling to him, it all made the walk to the stage feel less like a man crossing a room and more like a storm rolling in.
Lucy’s breath caught.
Step.
Step.
Step.
Each footfall echoed just a little too loud in her ears. Her pulse matched it.
He stopped just short of her. Close enough. Not touching. Not yet.
But close enough that she could feel the heat of him, could catch the faint scent of smoke and spice, something sharper beneath it. Something electric. If thunder and lightning had a scent, this would be it.
It was charge. Like the air right before a storm breaks, heavy and waiting, pressing in on her lungs until every breath felt too shallow, too aware. It curled into her senses, clean and metallic, edged with something dangerous, like standing too close to a lightning strike and knowing, knowing, it could hit again.
For a second, neither of them spoke.
Lucy couldn’t. Her feet felt rooted to the spot, her body betraying her in the worst ways, thighs pressing together just a little too tightly, her breath shallow, her fingers curling uselessly at her sides.
Say something. Move. Do anything.
She didn’t.
Because Laxus lifted his hand. Palm open. Waiting. “Shall we?” he said, voice low, rough around the edges in a way that sent a shiver straight down her spine.
Simple and casual. Like he hadn’t just dropped one million jewels on her.
Lucy stared at his hand for half a second too long. Then another. Her brain scrambled to catch up with her body, with the way her heart was racing, with the way heat kept blooming under her skin, pooling low and heavy and impossible to ignore.
Move, Lucy.
Finally, finally, she forced herself to breathe.
In.
Out.
And step forward.
Her hand lifted, slower than she would have liked, and slipped into his.
The moment their skin touched. Sparks. Not metaphorical or imagined. Real.
A sharp, electric jolt that shot straight up her arm, down her spine, settling somewhere deep and dangerous in her core. Lucy sucked in a quiet breath, her fingers tightening instinctively around his.
Laxus’s grip shifted just slightly in response, firmer, more secure. Like he’d felt it too. He didn’t comment on it. Didn’t even look surprised. He just turned, already guiding her forward with an ease that made it very clear this wasn’t a question anymore.
It was a done deal.
The crowd blurred around them as they stepped off the stage together, the noise swelling again, cheers, teasing shouts, Natsu yelling something Lucy absolutely did not want to process right now.
Her focus narrowed to one thing. Him. The warmth of his hand. The steady pull as he led her through the guild hall, past tables and staring faces and knowing smirks.
Her heels clicked unevenly once and he slowed, just a fraction. Adjusted without saying a word. And then, as they reached the doors, just out of the main crowd, just far enough that the noise dipped into something muffled and distant, He leaned in. Not enough to touch. But close enough that she felt his breath brush the shell of her ear.
“Relax,” he murmured, voice low enough that it was meant for her alone. “It’s just a night out.” A pause. Then, quieter still, rougher, edged with something that made her stomach drop and flip all at once. “…What we do with it depends on how well you behave.”
Lucy gasped softly, the sound escaping before she could stop it. Heat flooded her face instantly, her grip on his hand tightening as her entire body reacted in one sharp, traitorous wave.
Oh. Oh, that was… that was not fair. Not fair at all.
Laxus pulled back just enough to glance at her, and there it was, that faint, knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Like he knew exactly what he’d just done to her. And liked it.
Lucy swallowed hard, her pulse completely out of control now as he pushed the doors open and guided her out into the night. The cool night air hit her skin as they stepped outside, but it did little to temper the heat building inside her.
Laxus's hand was warm and steady in hers, his thumb brushing idly over her knuckles in a way that sent little sparks racing up her arm. He paused just beyond the doors, turning to face her with that intense gaze that made her stomach flip.
"Hold on tight," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her.
Lucy's heart pounded. She nodded, her fingers twisting into the crisp fabric of his shirt at his chest, gripping hard enough to feel the solid muscle beneath. His arms slid around her waist, pulling her in close until their chests nearly pressed together, his body heat enveloping her like a promise. She could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat against her, syncing with her own erratic pulse.
A sudden zap of electricity tingled across her skin, sharp and thrilling. Thunder cracked overhead, not from the sky but from him, and her vision blurred in a flash of white-hot light. The world twisted, spun, and then… they were there. Standing in front of his house.
Lucy blinked, recognition hitting her through the disorientation. She'd been here before, dropping off some paperwork for Master on one of those chaotic errand days. The familiar outline of the sturdy, modern building with its wide porch and subtle dark accents grounded her, even as her senses lagged behind.
Her knees buckled slightly, the teleportation leaving her ears ringing and her sight fuzzy at the edges. She stumbled forward, a soft gasp escaping her lips.
Strong hands caught her immediately, Laxus's grip firm on her hips as he steadied her. "Whoa, easy," he said, a teasing edge to his tone. "Already falling for me? We haven't even gotten inside yet."
Lucy's cheeks burned, but she couldn't suppress the nervous laugh that bubbled up. Her body still hummed from the rush, nerves twisting with excitement in her gut. He had brought her here, to his home. Alone. The implications swirled in her mind, making her pulse race faster. She met his eyes, seeing the amusement there, but also something deeper, hungrier.
"Come on," he said softly, taking her hand again. His fingers laced through hers, leading her up the steps and through the front door.
Inside, the house was warmer than she'd imagined, cozy in a way that surprised her, with dark wood floors, a plush sectional sofa facing a stone fireplace, and shelves lined with books and odd magical artifacts that spoke to his lightning heritage. Soft lighting from wall sconces cast a golden glow, and the faint scent of sandalwood lingered in the air.
Laxus closed the door behind them, the click echoing softly.
Lucy's heart hammered in her chest as she turned to face him, the whirlwind of thoughts in her head making her palms sweat.
The house felt too quiet, too intimate, amplifying every breath, every subtle shift in his posture.
She swallowed hard, summoning the courage that had gotten her through life and death situations. Her voice came out softer than she intended, laced with nerves. "Laxus? Why'd you bid so much on me? Back there, I mean. That was... a lot."
Laxus arched a brow, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his broad chest, that signature smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. It was a look that made her stomach twist with anticipation, his eyes locking onto hers like he could see straight through her bravado.
"Why do you think I did, blondie?"
She bit her lower lip, the simple action drawing his gaze downward for a fleeting moment, heat flooding her cheeks. Her mind raced, possibilities, doubts, the electric pull between them making her skin prickle. Searching his face, she ventured, "I'm not sure. To save me from Sawarr?"
A low chuckle rumbled from his throat, deep and resonant, vibrating through the space between them and sending an involuntary shiver racing down her spine. It pooled low in her belly, a warm ache that made her thighs press together subtly. He pushed off the wall with deliberate slowness, closing the distance in two strides, his presence towering and magnetic. The air thickened, charged like the storm he commanded.
"I'm no knight in shining armor, Lucy," he said, his voice a gravelly murmur that brushed against her senses. "Don't go putting me on some pedestal."
Relief flooded her, mingling with a spark of delight that made her pulse quicken. She liked his raw honesty, it grounded her, made this feel real, not some fairy-tale illusion.
The relief didn’t stay for long though. It melted, shifted, and twisted into something heavier.
Because he didn’t want control. He wanted her.
Lucy could see it now, clear as day in the way his gaze lingered just a second too long, in the way his voice dipped when he spoke to her, rougher, edged with something that made her pulse trip over itself.
And if that wasn’t enough. The fact that he’d spent one million fucking jewels for a ‘date’ with her was.
He wanted her. Badly enough to make a statement out of it.
Her breath caught, chest rising and falling a little faster now. That familiar ache stirred, sharper this time, less abstract, more him. The way he stood there, solid and unbothered, like he already knew exactly what he was doing to her.
And the worst part? She wanted it. Wanted the attention. The weight of his focus. The way his eyes dragged over her like he was already imagining—
Lucy swallowed hard, her thighs pressing together just slightly. This wasn’t nerves anymore. This was hunger.
Her gaze flickered to his mouth, then back up, something reckless slipping into her expression. Because if he was going to look at her like that… if he was going to spend that much just to have her for a night…
Then she was going to make it worth every bit of his money.
She stepped closer, the heat radiating from his body drawing her in like a moth to flame. Tilting her chin up, she met his gaze steadily, though her hands trembled slightly at her sides. "Good. Because I'm no damsel in distress either. And if you did, I wouldn't be able to do this."
Before he could respond, she surged forward on a wave of bold impulse, closing the scant gap between them and pressing her lips to his. The kiss was fierce and unyielding, her hands sliding up the firm planes of his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his suit jacket as she poured every ounce of her pent-up excitement into it. Her body thrummed with need, breasts brushing against his chest, the contact igniting sparks that shot straight to her core.
Laxus froze for a split second, his breath hitching in surprise at her audacious move, but then he ignited, responding with a hunger that matched her own. His mouth claimed hers in earnest, lips parting to deepen the connection as his tongue swept in, tangling with hers in a slick, demanding dance that left her breathless.
One large hand cupped the back of her neck, fingers threading into her hair to tilt her head just right, controlling the angle with possessive ease. The other hand gripped her hip, yanking her flush against him until she could feel the hard ridges of his body pressing insistently against her soft curves through their clothes.
The kiss turned molten, tongues stroking and sucking with building urgency. His hands travelled against the satin of her dress, up her hips, further up her sides and came to a rest right below her breasts. One of them moved to cup her abundant mound in his palm, a tentative thumb running over the hardened nipple that could be felt through the soft satin.
Lucy had never been so glad for her distaste of wearing bras. Years of struggling with ill-fitting sizes that could barely hold her blessed rack, as Cana put it, in place, had led her to being a bit rebellious when it came to her breasts. And God how glad she was for her little rebellion as Laxus’s fingers worked their magic on her nipple, separated only by a thin layer of satin. The teasing strokes made her arch her back into his palm eagerly, wanting him to touch her more.
“Laxus..”
A soft moan vibrated into his mouth as her knees weakened under the onslaught. Her fingers wove into his spiky hair, tugging lightly to pull him closer, while desire flared hot and insistent low in her belly, she was aching with want. His body was a wall of unyielding muscle against her own, the friction of his thigh nudging between her legs sending jolts of raw need pulsing through her veins, making her grind subtly against him without thought.
Emboldened by the fire building between them, Lucy's hands roamed lower, grasping the edges of his suit jacket. She tugged it off his shoulders with a determined yank, the fabric sliding away from his powerful frame as she broke the kiss just long enough to fling it carelessly behind them. It landed with a soft thud somewhere on the floor, forgotten in the haze of their escalating heat.
Now unhindered, Laxus's other hand that had been running languid circles across her hip slid freely upward, tracing the dip of her waist before splaying wide across the swell of her ass, squeezing the firm flesh through her dress.
Another needy moan escaped her lips, muffled against his mouth as she reclaimed it, her body melting under the bold exploration of his fingers. The sensation of his rough hand mapping her curves sent fresh waves of arousal crashing through her, her nipples hardening to peaks that strained against the thin fabric of her dress.
He pulled back slightly, just enough to growl against her lips, his voice thick with restrained lust. "Fuck, Lucy... I've wanted to touch you like this for so damn long. Feel every inch of these curves under my hands."
His words ignited something primal in her, his grip tightening possessively as he kneaded her ass, pulling her harder against his throbbing length.
The intensity surged, their breaths mingling in ragged pants as tongues battled anew, wet and insistent. Lucy's hands grew frantic, sliding up his chest to the buttons of his shirt. Her fingers fumbled with the first one, popping it open to reveal a sliver of tanned, muscled skin beneath. She worked on the next, desperate to feel the heat of him bare against her palms, underwear growing slick with the promise of more.
Just as she was about to reach the third button, Laxus caught her wrists in a firm hold, halting her progress as he broke the kiss with a low, frustrated groan. His eyes burned into hers, dark with desire but laced with control.
"Lucy, wait!” he rasped, his thumbs stroking the inside of her wrists in soothing circles even as his member twitched against her. "Not like this. I told you—I want to do this right. Earn every second of you tonight. So, how about we have some dinner first? I did promise you a date after all."
Lucy whined in protest, her body aching from the sudden stop. "Laxus..." she pouted, lips swollen and cheeks flushed. The growing desire throbbed insistently, but his words tugged at something softer in her chest.
He grinned, thumb brushing her lower lip. "Patience, baby. It'll be worth it."
She huffed but nodded, as he rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbows, revealing strong forearms corded with muscle. He grabbed a black apron from a hook near the kitchen entrance, tying it around his waist with practiced ease. The sight of him like that, domestic yet commanding, made her bite her lip hard.
“Wait, you’re cooking?” She voiced her thoughts, surprised.
The all-too-familiar smirk was back on his face. “Don’t act so surprised, blondie! I make a mean steak.”
This meal better be worth it.
Laxus moved into the kitchen like he owned every inch of it, which he did. The space was sleek, with granite counters and stainless steel appliances, but he navigated it effortlessly. He pulled ingredients from the fridge: fresh herbs, a cut of steak, vegetables that looked like they'd been handpicked.
Lucy leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, her gaze tracing the way his shoulders flexed as he chopped onions with precise, powerful strokes. Serious concentration etched his features, making him look tantalizingly focused, like he was channeling that same intensity he brought to everything else.
Heat pooled between her thighs as she watched him sear the meat in a hot pan, the sizzle filling the air along with savory aromas that made her mouth water. He was completely in his element, and damn if it wasn't turning her on more than getting eaten out by most guys did.
She watched him season the steak with a flick of his wrist. "I didn't peg you for the cooking type honestly. This is... impressive."
He didn’t look up immediately. “Most people don’t,” Laxus replied, voice low and even as he flipped the steak with an easy flick of his wrist. The sizzle sharpened, rich and mouthwatering, filling the already warm space between them. “They don’t usually stick around long enough to notice things like that.”
Lucy huffed softly at that, pushing off the doorway just enough to step inside, though she kept a careful distance, like getting too close might let the restraint she was carefully building right now shatter.
“Or maybe you just don’t let them,” she shot back, tilting her head slightly. “You’re not exactly… approachable.”
That got a reaction. A faint smirk tugged at his mouth, just barely there as he reached for the herbs. “Is that so?”
Lucy crossed her arms again, trying very hard to ignore the way her eyes kept drifting, to his hands, his forearms, the controlled strength in every movement.
“Yes,” she said, a little more firmly than she felt. “You glare. A lot. It’s intimidating.”
“Funny,” he murmured, finally glancing at her over his shoulder. “You never seemed that intimidated.”
The look he gave her lingered a second too long.
Lucy’s breath hitched before she could stop it. “…I’m special,” she muttered, looking away quickly.
A low chuckle rumbled out of him, quiet, but real. He turned back to the stove, plating the vegetables with the same careful precision, like everything he did had purpose behind it.
Lucy watched him for another beat, then shifted her weight. “…Do you want help?” she asked, softer this time. “I mean, I can—”
“No.” The answer was immediate. He reached for another pan, not even glancing back as he added, a little slower this time. “You’re not lifting a finger tonight.”
Lucy blinked. “Laxus, I can at least—”
He cut her off again, but this time there was something warmer threaded through it. “You’re being pampered,” he said simply. “That was the deal, wasn’t it?”
Her lips parted slightly. “…I don’t remember agreeing to that.”
Another small smirk. “That’s because I didn’t give you much of a choice.”
Her stomach flipped. Lucy shifted where she stood, her thighs brushing together before she could stop herself. “Right,” she muttered. “Of course you didn’t.”
Silence settled for a moment, but not an awkward one. Something quieter.
He set the knife down, finally turning fully toward her, leaning back against the counter with his arms loosely crossed. And just… looked at her.
Lucy swallowed. “…What?” she asked, a little breathless.
“Nothing,” he said, though his gaze said otherwise. “Just thinking.”
“That’s never a good sign,” she tried, aiming for teasing, but it came out softer than intended.
His eyes flicked back to hers. “Depends on what I’m thinking about.”
There it was again. That tone.
Lucy felt heat crawl up her neck, the kitchen's warmth pressing in closer now, the lingering steam from the stove carrying the sharp tang of seared herbs and garlic that clung to the air like a promise. Her skin prickled under his steady gaze, her satin dress suddenly felt too thin. She shifted her weight again, bare feet cool against the tiled floor.
"Why now?" The words slipped out before she could reel them back, her voice quieter than she'd meant, laced with that mix of curiosity and nerves twisting in her gut. "I mean... your interest in me. All of a sudden. Why?"
Laxus didn't move at first, just held her eyes, his broad shoulders relaxed against the counter's edge, the muscles in his forearms flexing subtly as he adjusted his stance. The faint scent of smoke and sweat from the cooking heat wafted off him, mixing with something earthier, his skin.
He tilted his head just a fraction, that smirk deepening into something sharper, more intent. "All of a sudden?"
She blinked, the question hanging there, pulling her up short. Her pulse thudded in her ears, louder than the soft hum of the fridge kicking on behind him. "Yeah. I mean... we’ve barely... even hugged before. And now you suddenly dropped a million jewels on me, and are cooking for me."
He pushed off the counter slowly, the movement deliberate, closing a step of the distance between them without crowding her, not yet. The air seemed to thicken, her nostrils flaring at the fresh rush of his scent as he stopped just shy of arm's reach, towering over her in that effortless way that made her feel small and exposed.
His voice dropped lower, gravel-rough around the edges. "Are you sure about that, Lucy? Is it really that sudden?"
Her mouth went dry. She gaped at him, lips parting on a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, the question landing like a punch to her chest. Sudden. The word echoed in her head, scrambling her thoughts.
All those glances she'd caught over months, years?—in the guild hall, the way his eyes would linger on her, heavy and unreadable, the rare grunts of approval when she held her own in a fight. The tension she'd dismissed as her imagination, that pull she'd felt coiling in her core every time he brushed past her too close.
Heat flooded her cheeks, sinking lower, her pussy clenching faintly at the realization crashing through her. "You..." She swallowed hard, tasting the faint salt of her own nerves on her tongue, her voice coming out thinner. "You've been... wanting this? For a while now?"
One corner of his mouth hooked up, not quite a smile, more like satisfaction settling into his features as he nodded once, slow and sure. "Told you earlier. Been wanting to do that for ages now. Been wanting to do you for ages now."
His gaze dragged down her body deliberately, taking in the flush staining her collarbone, the way her chest rose and fell quicker, nipples peaking visibly against the satin. "Watching you walk around the guild hall in those short little skirts," he said, voice dropping to a rasp that vibrated through the humid kitchen air, thick with the fading sizzle of steak and the sharper edge of her arousal blooming between them.
He wasn't done. His gaze lifted back to her face, but dipped again almost immediately, cataloging the way her lips parted on a shaky exhale, the tip of her tongue visible, wet and pink.
"And those tight crop tops," he continued, the words rolling out slower now, laced with a raw edge that made her thighs clench. "Barely leaving anything to the imagination. Tits spilling out the sides when you stretch, nipples going hard from the draft off the windows. Strutting around like you don't know every fucker in there, and me most of all, is staring."
The crude specificity hit her like a slap of heat, her core fluttering hard, wetness seeping warmer against her thighs.
"Yeah," he finished, finally meeting her eyes again, that smirk sharpening as her flush crawled higher, staining her cheeks. "Ages."
Lucy's mind reeled, a rush of images flooding her, his hands on her earlier in the living room, rough and claiming, all those stolen moments she'd chalked up to coincidence. Her heart hammered, a wild thrill sparking through her veins, chasing away the shock.
Him. Laxus, the untouchable storm of Fairy Tail, the man who could level buildings with a flex of his power, wanting her. Craving her body, her fire, for so long. It hit her like lightning, empowering, intoxicating, making her feel powerful in a way she'd never imagined.
Her thighs rubbed together again, slick heat gathering between them, her clit throbbing faintly with the need his words stoked.
She stepped forward before she could think better of it, closing that last gap, her smaller frame brushing against the solid wall of his chest. The heat radiating off him seeped through her dress, his heartbeat steady and strong under her palm as she pressed it there, feeling the thunder of it pick up just a touch.
"You never said," she whispered, tilting her chin up to meet his eyes, her free hand sliding up his arm, fingers digging into the hard cord of muscle, tracing the veins that stood out from the cooking heat. The texture was rough, skin warm and slightly damp, sending a shiver racing down her spine.
"Didn't need to." His hand came up, callused fingers catching her chin, thumb brushing the swell of her lower lip, parting it slightly. The pad was rough against the soft inner flesh, tasting faintly of salt and herbs when her tongue darted out instinctively. "You felt it. Always have. Didn’t you, Lucy?"
Her breath hitched, pussy aching now, the empty pulse of want making her hips shift forward, pressing her belly against the growing bulge in his pants. She could feel him there, thick and hardening.
He wants me.
Happiness bloomed hot and fierce in her chest, mingling with the raw hunger. The strongest man she knew, reduced to this barely-leashed need for her. It made her bold, her hand dropping lower, palm flattening over his abs over his shirt, feeling them tense and jump under her touch as she traced the ridges down to his waistband.
"Laxus," she breathed, the name a plea and a claim all at once, her nails scraping lightly over his back. The action drew a low rumble from his throat that vibrated through her palm.
He didn't pull away. Instead, his free hand gripped her hip, fingers splaying wide, digging in just enough to tilt her pelvis forward, grinding her against his cock with a slow roll of his hips.
The friction dragged over her clit through the layers, a sharp spark of pleasure making her gasp into his thumb, her tongue flicking out to wet it fully this time. The taste was him, smoky, male, addictive.
"Been holding back," he murmured, voice thick now, breath hot against her forehead as he leaned down, lips brushing her temple. "Waiting for you to catch up."
She moaned softly, the sound muffled against his skin as her hand cupped him fully, feeling the heavy length of his cock twitch under her palm, straining against the zipper. The heat of it seeped through, velvet-hard promise making her mouth water, her thighs quivering with the effort to stay upright.
Empowerment surged through her, dizzying. Mine to unravel. This dragon of a man undone by her touch.
Her other hand fisted in his shirt, yanking him closer. "Then don't hold back anymore," she whispered, nipping at his thumb before sucking it deeper into her mouth, tongue swirling hot and deliberate. The salt burst over her taste buds, her pussy clenching hard, imagining that same thick heat stretching her open.
His growl vibrated through her bones, grip tightening on her hip, pulling her flush as the steak's aroma faded into the background, drowned out by the slick sounds of her mouth working him and the wet press of her body against his.
“Fuck Lucy… fine, have it your way. Guess, you’ll have to satiate my hunger instead,” He murmured against her ear and then reached behind her to turn off the gas.
Once that was out of the way, he drew her closer, his hand on her hip tightened, callused fingers pressing into the slick satin of her dress where it hugged her curves, the fabric sighing under his touch as he guided her body flush against his. The firm outline of his cock nudged up through his black slacks, an insistent pressure against the damp heat of her panties beneath the dress's hem, each subtle rock of his hips sending a warm spark grazing her clit through the layers. Heat radiated from his white button-down, the starched cotton growing damp where it met her breasts, her nipples tightening visibly against the weave with every slow breath she drew.
A few blonde strands escaped her updo, curling damply against her sweat-slicked nape from the kitchen's humid warmth, the rest pinned tight like a secret waiting to unravel. She lingered on his thumb in her mouth, tongue tracing the rough pad with deliberate swirls. When she finally released it with a soft, wet pop, thin strings of saliva bridged her lips to his skin for a lingering moment before breaking, her gaze lifting to meet his, gold-flecked eyes stormy, pupils wide with a hunger that coiled tight in her belly, mirroring the slow burn spreading through her veins.
"Laxus," she whispered.
Her voice was a breathy plea that edged toward demand as her fingers twisted in his shirt, tugging gently at first, the fabric straining over his chest. A button gave way with a faint ping, swallowed by their shared, ragged exhales. Her palm slipped inside, brushing the coarse rasp of his chest hair before splaying wide over the hot, flexing planes of his pecs. She traced the scars there slowly, fingertips following the puckered ridges against the smooth heat of his skin, feeling the faint twitch of muscle beneath.
His free hand glided up her almost bare back, palm pressing flat and warm as it gathered the satin at her spine, the fabric sliding coolly higher inch by inch, exposing the sensitive dip above her ass. He gathered her updo at the base, pins scraping lightly against her scalp in a tingling sting that sent warmth pooling low in her core.
He tugged her head back gently, baring her throat as his mouth hovered near, his breath fanning hot and steady across her pulse point. Stubble grazed first, coarse pricks raising faint gooseflesh, before his lips brushed there, soft at the outset, then sealing with a slow suck that hollowed his cheeks just enough to draw a quiet moan from her.
The wet pull echoed softly in the kitchen's hush, a subtle sting blooming under the graze of his teeth, the faint coppery edge mixing with her floral perfume. "Fuck, you taste so sweet here," he murmured against her skin, voice thick and muffled, his breath gusting ragged and warm. He lingered, lips trailing lazy patterns up her throat, tongue flicking out to taste her skin, each pass making her thighs press together instinctively.
Her moan escaped high and needy, hips shifting languidly into his, the friction teasing her clit through satin and lace, her arousal seeping warmer into the fabric. She pushed his shirt open wider, nails dragging lightly down his abs, savoring the way the ridges tensed and jumped under her touch, coarse hair tickling her fingertips. Her other hand stayed fisted in the fabric at his shoulder, holding him close as she explored, breath mingling with his in the narrowing space between them.
"Lucy," he rasped her name against her throat, the vibration sinking into her bones as his hips rolled forward in a slow grind.
He lifted from her neck with a slick sound, a deep red mark glistening in the low light, cooling against her flushed skin. His mouth found hers then, not crashing but claiming with a deep, unhurried plunge of his tongue, hot and tasting of wine and smoke as it stroked hers in languid sweeps.
She matched him, sucking gently on his tongue, teeth grazing the soft underside to draw a low hiss from him.
His fingers spasmed lightly in her hair, loosening pins one by one until blonde waves began to tumble free, heavy strands brushing her shoulders like silk.
They swayed together a step back, his ass nudging the counter with a soft bump that rattled the plates faintly. He turned her slowly then, her palms coming to rest on the cool granite for balance, the satin dress riding up her thighs with the motion, hem clinging to the sticky warmth between her legs.
His body pressed her from behind, open shirt draping over her shoulders like a shared secret, chest hair tickling her bare back where the neckline dipped low. One hand eased the dress higher, bunching it deliberately at her waist, exposing her ass and the clinging thong, lace damp and sheer against her pussy lips. The air whispered cool across her skin, contrasting the slick heat trickling slowly down her thighs, her floral scent rising faint in the humid air.
"Been thinking about this ass," he growled low in her ear, breath hot and teasing as his palm smoothed over one cheek, kneading the flesh with firm, unhurried squeezes that made it yield under his touch.
She arched back into him, pussy fluttering as fresh wetness gathered, the thong darkening further. His fingers traced the thin strip of lace, calluses dragging lightly over her swollen folds without parting them yet, just enough pressure to make her knees soften, a quiet whimper slipping free.
"Laxus... please," she breathed, forehead dipping to the counter's chill, granite biting cool against her cheek as her hips circled back instinctively. The anticipation twisted tighter in her core, clit pulsing.
She reached back, fingers fumbling at his belt, not yanking but unbuckling it with deliberate tugs, the leather creaking softly as it loosened. His slacks shifted open with a hushed rasp, but she didn't dive in; instead, her hand cupped the heavy bulge through the fabric, as she massaged slowly.
He groaned, the sound rumbling through her back, hips pressing forward into her touch while his fingers continued their teasing glide along her folds, dipping just the barest tip inside her entrance before withdrawing, slick with her cream. The wet sound was faint, intimate, her arousal coating his fingertips as he circled her clit with featherlight strokes, the callus rasping her hood in lazy loops.
"So wet already... knew you'd be like this for me," he murmured, lips brushing her ear, stubble scraping her lobe as he nipped softly, sucking the tender flesh between his teeth.
Her breath hitched, thighs quivering as she stroked him over the fabric, feeling his cock thicken and twitch beneath her hand, pre-cum seeping warm through the wool. She twisted her wrist slowly, pressing firmer, drawing another gravel curse from him that vibrated along her spine.
His free hand slipped around to her front, shoving the dress straps down her shoulders inch by inch, satin pooling at her elbows to free her breasts. They brushed the counter's edge with each subtle shift, cold pebbling her nipples tighter, a sharp ache blooming as he reached around to cup one, thumb rolling the stiff peak in tandem with his teasing at her pussy.
"Don't stop," she pleaded, voice husky, her hand pumping him languidly now through the slacks, nails scraping lightly along the length. Tension coiled slow and deep in her belly, pleasure building in lazy waves as his fingers pressed deeper, not thrusting yet, just scissoring gently inside her, exploring every ridge with unhurried curls. The squelch grew wetter, easing his movements, scent thickening earthy and heady around them.
"Come for me like this first," he coaxed, lips trailing down her neck again, sucking another mark while his thumb circled her clit relentlessly, fingers grinding against a certain spot she reacted most feverishly to, in firm, patient presses.
“Oh God—Laxus—I’m..” She panted, one hand gripping the counter like her life depended on it.
“Yes, baby. Don’t hold back anymore,” he continued building up pressure, with his fingers as his lips pressed featherlight kisses across her neck and back.
Lucy shattered gradually, a low cry spilling as her walls clenched around him, gushing warm over his hand in pulsing waves, thighs slicking as the contractions drew out, leaving her trembling and boneless against the counter.
He withdrew slowly, spinning her to face him, her ass bumping the granite softly.
He popped two of his fingers into his mouth, sucking gently. “You taste just as good as you look, Lucy. I don’t know how I’ve been able to hold myself back for so long.”
Lucy’s eyes darkened at the action and she itched to suck on his fingers too.
Laxus’s slacks hung open, cock straining thick and flushed against the fabric, but he made no move to free it fully. Instead, he gripped her thigh, pulling the dress down, the fabric pooling at her feet. Followed by her lace panties, that were in an even more sorry state.
She was fully naked now. His gaze ran over her body appreciatively and Lucy couldn’t find it in herself to feel embarrassed.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful, Lucy.”
Desire pooled in her stomach at his words and the way his eyes drank her. She couldn’t wait any longer.
Lucy closed the distance between them once more, pushing him back against the counter and reaching up to hook her legs against his waist loosely, her arms intertwining behind his neck.
One of his hands automatically came to support her ass as her breasts pressed flush against his naked chest. He let out a low moan and his mouth immediately returned to hers. “You’re killing me.” He groaned in-between kisses.
Their tongues tangled in a fiery dance and his free hand roamed upward, palm gliding over the swell of her left breast, the callused skin rasping lightly against her nipple, already peaked and aching from the cool air and the feel of his chest against it.
Laxus broke the kiss with a soft, sucking pop, his lips trailing wet paths down her jaw, her throat, nipping at the pulse that fluttered wildly there. His hand cupped her breast fully now, thumb circling the nipple in firm, deliberate strokes that sent jolts straight to her clit, the texture of his skin like rough silk dragging over the sensitive bud. He squeezed gently at first, then harder, rolling the flesh in his palm, the pressure building that sweet edge of ache without tipping into pain.
She gasped, her nails scraping down his shirtfront, bunching the fabric as her body arched into his touch.
Lowering his head, he captured the nipple between his lips, tongue flicking out to lap at it roughly, the wet heat contrasting the cool granite at her back. He sucked hard, the pull sending a fresh gush of wetness trickling down her inner thigh, audible in the soft, slick sound it made against her skin. His teeth grazed the tip, just a graze, enough to make her hips buck forward, grinding her soaked folds against the unyielding bulge in his pants. The friction was maddening, the seam of his zipper biting into her clit through the thin barrier.
"Gods, these tits," Laxus growled against her skin, switching to the other breast, his hand kneading the first one abandoned to his mouth, fingers splaying wide to encompass as much as he could. He lavished it with open-mouthed kisses, sucking bruises into the pale undersides, tongue swirling in broad, messy circles that left saliva cooling in shiny trails. The scent of her skin filled his nostrils, driving him hungrier.
He pulled back just enough to admire them, both nipples glossy and swollen from his attention, heaving with her quickened breaths. His eyes darkened, pupils blown wide, and he traced a thumb reverently over the right peak, watching it pebble tighter under the pad of his finger.
"Best rack in Fiore indeed," he rasped, voice thick with lust, the words vibrating against her sternum as he nuzzled into the valley between them, inhaling deeply. "Heavy and perfect, begging to be marked up. Look at you, tits like these could start wars, Lucy."
He punctuated the praise with a firm slap to the underside of one breast, the sharp sting blooming into heat that made her moan, the sound high and needy, echoing off the tiled walls. Then softer affection followed: his mouth descending again, peppering feather-light kisses across the flushed mounds, tongue dipping into the crease beneath to taste her there, his stubble scraping deliciously raw.
Lucy's mind spun with the contrast, his teasing control, the way he worshipped her body like it was a battlefield he'd already conquered, her thighs trembling around his hips from the denied fullness of his cock pressing right there, so close. She threaded her fingers into his hair, tugging him closer, urging him to devour more as her pussy fluttered, aching for him to finally shove those slacks down and split her open.
Laxus turned them around so that Lucy’s weight was supported by the counter, freeing up his other hand, which slid higher on her thigh, thumb brushing the slick lips of her pussy but not dipping in, just teasing the entrance with featherlight pressure, matching the torment on her breasts. He hummed approval at her pull, sucking her nipple deep into his mouth again, the vacuum seal popping wetly as he released it, strings of saliva connecting his lips to her skin.
"You love this, don't you? Me toying with these gorgeous fucking tits while your pussy drips all over my pants." His words were a hot brand, breath ghosting over the wet peaks, making them tighten painfully. He pinched both nipples in unison then, twisting just enough to draw a whimper from her throat, her back bowing off the counter, ass sliding an inch along the granite with a faint squeak.
The pain-pleasure mix coiled tight in her belly, her clit throbbing in time with his pinches, every sense narrowed to the rough drag of his thumbs, the velvet heat of his mouth returning to soothe with long, languid licks.
She clawed at his shirt, shoving it off his shoulders fully, the cotton whispering to the floor, baring his scarred chest slick with sweat. Nails raked down his back lightly, welts rising as she urged him closer. Only then did he ease his slacks down further, cock springing free, heavy and veined, pre beading at the tip.
The sight of it made her inner muscles clench emptily, a fresh gush of wetness slicking her thighs. Fuck, he's built for this, she thought, hunger and nervousness twisting low in her belly, her gaze flicking down to watch the way it bobbed toward her, demanding.
Laxus took notice of her hesitation and pressed a quick kiss to her temple. “Don’t worry, we’ll take it slow,” he murmured into her hair.
Lucy gulped and just nodded, words failing her.
From his pocket, he fished out the foil packet, the metallic crinkle sharp in the quiet space between their panting breaths. He tore it open with his teeth, the latex unrolling down his length in one fluid pull, base to tip, sheathing him snugly, the thin barrier doing nothing to hide the rigid heat pulsing beneath. She watched, mesmerized, as his fist stroked once, twice, to seat it properly, the rubber stretching taut over the swollen head.
He pressed forward, notching the broad crown at her entrance, but he didn't thrust. Instead, he dragged it up and down her slit in slow, teasing glides, the condom catching slickly on her folds, coating itself in her abundant wetness. Each pass ground his pubic bone against her clit, firm pressure sparking jolts that made her hips buck involuntarily, the coarse hair at his base scraping her sensitive nub with a delicious friction.
The scent of her own arousal bloomed stronger now, musky and sweet, mingling with the faint rubber tang of the latex.
"God, you're soaking me already," he murmured, voice rough, his breath hot against her ear as he circled her entrance once more, dipping just the tip inside before pulling back.
"Ready?" Laxus rasped, finally lifting his gaze to lock with hers, those dark eyes burning with restraint, pupils blown wide.
She nodded fast, out of words once more, but her legs hooked tighter around his waist, heels pressing into the small of his back, urging him in with insistent pulls.
Yes, now, fill me, her mind screamed, the ache inside her a living throb.
He sank in then, inch by torturous inch, the stretch burning sweet as her tender walls yielded to his girth. Velvet heat enveloped him despite the barrier, her pussy fluttering around the invasion, gripping reflexively.
Halfway in, he groaned low, the sound vibrating through his chest to hers, and she felt every ridge, every vein dragging along her inner channel. Fully buried, he held still, forehead pressing to hers, sweat dripping salty between them to trace warm paths down her collarbone.
The counter edge dug into her hips, a steady pressure grounding the fullness overwhelming her core. She clenched around him experimentally, and he hissed, fingers flexing on her thighs.
"Tight as a fist, baby. You gonna milk me like this?"
They rocked together slowly at first, hips circling in shallow grinds rather than outright thrusts, building rhythm in the kitchen's humid glow. With each subtle shift, her ass slid a fraction on the cool granite despite the slickness easing their way. Her blonde curls stuck to their damp skin, clinging to his shoulders, tangling in her fingers as she clutched at him. Pleasure wound tighter once more, coiling low like a spring, her clit throbbing from the consistent press of his pelvis.
"Faster," she whispered, nipping at his jaw, tasting his stubble. Her hands roamed his scarred chest, thumbs circling his nipples, feeling them pebble under her touch as his breath stuttered.
He obliged, pulling back until just the head remained inside, her walls clinging, reluctant, before sliding home again, deeper this time, the wet squelch of her pussy taking him audible in the charged air. The pace quickened organically, his hips snapping sharper now, cock plunging with a steady rhythm that made her breasts bounce, nipples grazing his chest hair with each impact, sending pinpricks of sensation radiating outward.
She wrapped her legs higher, ankles crossing at the base of his spine, pulling him impossibly closer, the angle letting him grind against that spot inside her that sparked stars behind her eyelids.
He's so deep, splitting me open, she thought, the mental friction of it, wanting to be ruined by him, amping the physical blaze.
Sweat-slick skin slapped softly at first, growing louder, wetter, punctuated by her gasps and his grunts. The kitchen filled with their sounds: the slick sliding of skin against the counter, the fridge humming obliviously in the corner, the faint drip of a faucet echoing like a distant heartbeat.
His mouth found her neck, sucking a mark just below her ear, teeth grazing a particularly sensitive spot.
“Laxus—” She moaned, nails raking fresh welts down his back, the sting drawing a growl from him that vibrated straight to her core.
One hand braced on the counter beside her hip, the other slid between them, thumb finding her clit with unerring precision, circling firmly, the callused pad rough against the swollen bud, intensifying the building pressure until her thighs quivered.
They moved like that for what felt like ages, tension ratcheting higher with every plunge, her body chasing the edge as his cock dragged relentlessly along her walls. He straightened slightly, changing the angle, and she cried out when the head nudged her cervix on a deep thrust, the brief ache blooming into ecstasy.
"Right there—don't stop," she demanded, voice breathy, her own fingers twisting in his short hair, tugging to angle his mouth back to hers. Their kiss was messy, all tongue and teeth, sharing breaths laced with the taste of sweat and faint wine from the auction earlier.
The counter's edge bit harder into her skin now, a dull throb she welcomed amid the mounting pleasure, but he sensed it, shifting his weight to scoop under her ass, lifting her slightly off the surface. This new leverage let him thrust faster, the latex barrier slick and warming from their combined heat.
Her orgasm crept closer, toes curling against his back, inner muscles fluttering wildly around him.
Come on, break me, she urged silently, lost in the haze of sensation, the musky reek of sex thick in her lungs, the salty drip of his sweat on her tongue as she licked his throat, the unyielding stretch that made her feel owned.
He slowed just enough to draw it out, rolling his hips in deep circles, pubic bone mashing her clit while his cock stirred inside her, painting her walls with pressure. "Not yet," he commanded, breath ragged, eyes fierce on hers again. "Wanna feel you shatter first." His free hand pinched one of her nipples, twisting lightly, the sharp tug yanking a whine from her lips as sparks shot to her core.
She bucked up to meet him, chasing, the kitchen spinning in her periphery, cabinets blurring, the sink's chrome glinting, as the coil tightened unbearably. Her body obeyed his command even as it rebelled, the pressure coiling tighter in her belly with every deliberate grind of his hips. She clenched around his cock, the slick walls pulsing in rhythm with his circles, drawing him deeper as if her pussy could swallow him whole.
He watched her face, eyes locked on the way her lips parted in silent pleas, her breaths coming in sharp, desperate pants. “That's it,” he growled low, voice rough, as he picked up the pace again, thrusting hard and steady, the wet sounds of their joining echoing off the tiled walls. The fridge's hum faded into white noise, drowned out by the slap of skin on skin, her ass lifting to meet him with every drive.
His thumb returned to her clit, rubbing in tight, firm strokes that matched the plunge of his cock, pushing her higher, the dual assault making her vision blur at the edges.
The tension snapped without warning, her orgasm crashing over her like a wave she couldn't outrun. She cried out, a raw, broken sound that tore from her throat as her walls spasmed around him, clenching in fierce waves. Her legs locked tighter behind him, heels digging into his back, while her fingers clawed at his shoulders, leaving red trails in their wake. Heat bloomed from her core, radiating outward in shuddering pulses, her whole body quaking.
He didn't stop, riding through her climax with deep, controlled thrusts, prolonging the ecstasy until she was whimpering, oversensitive and trembling. “Fuck, yes—squeeze me like that,” he rasped, his own control fraying as her contractions pulled at him.
The sight of her unraveling, eyes squeezed shut, mouth open in a silent scream, pushed him to the brink. He buried himself to the hilt one last time, grinding hard as the pressure released in hot spurts inside the condom, his cock jerking with each pulse.
They stilled together, breaths mingling in heavy gasps, his forehead dropping to hers as the aftershocks rippled through them both. The kitchen settled around them, the faucet's drip resuming its steady rhythm, the counter cool against her heated skin where he still held her up. He eased out slowly, the wet slide making her hiss softly, before setting her down gently, their bodies slick and spent in the dim moonlight filtering through the window.
Laxus didn’t hesitate, his arms tightened around her, drawing her fully into him. It wasn’t rushed or demanding. Just… certain. Like there had never been a world where she wasn’t meant to fit there.
Lucy let out a small breath as she melted into his chest, her cheek settling against the steady rise and fall of it. His heartbeat was strong. Grounding and warm in a way that seeped into her bones and made everything else fade into the background.
His hand slid up her back slowly, broad palm spanning her spine as he pulled her closer, fingers splaying like he couldn’t quite get enough of the feel of her. Then, softer, unexpectedly soft, his other hand came up to cradle the back of her head.
And then he pressed a kiss into her hair. Gentle and unhurried.
Lucy stilled.
Another followed. Just as soft and deliberate.
“You were amazing,” he murmured against her crown, voice low and roughened in a way that had nothing to do with the demanding and lust-filled gravel of earlier.
Her chest tightened and something settled in deep. She wrapped her arms around his waist, her lips curving against his abs as she let herself sink into the moment, into him, without overthinking it for once.
“…Yeah?” she mumbled, voice softer now, almost shy in a way she hadn’t been all night.
His grip on her tightened just slightly. “Yeah.”
A beat passed. Then another.
Lucy shifted just enough to tilt her head back, looking up at him, her cheek still pressed to him. There was a glint of something playful returning to her eyes now, curiosity slipping back in alongside the warmth. “…So,” she started, lips twitching, “was it worth it?”
One eyebrow lifted slightly, like the answer was obvious.
“Hmm?” she pressed, just a little teasing now. “You did drop one million jewels on me. Kinda want a review.”
For a second, he just looked at her. Then his mouth curved. It wasn’t his usual cocky smirk. The grin he was sporting right now looked… certain. “Best million jewels I’ve ever spent.” He leaned down and whispered in her ear.
Lucy blinked and then she laughed. The sound bubbling out of her as she dropped her forehead back against his stomach, shaking her head.
“You’re crazy,” she said, but there was no bite to it.
“Yeah,” he replied easily, hand still warm at her back. “Crazy about you.”
Her laughter softened, fading into a quiet smile, a deep blush coating her cheeks as she stayed right where she was, wrapped up in him, in the warmth, in the strange, unexpected turn her night had taken.
“…Good,” she murmured before tilting up her head to look at him pointedly. “Now about that steak you promised me. As delectable as you are, Mr. Dreyar, I’m afraid you don’t compare to a good fillet mignon.”
“Is that so, Ms. Heartfilia?” He lifted her up from the counter with ease and she shrieked, her legs wrapping around his waist automatically. “Seems like you have a poor memory. How about I remind you just how delectable I am,” He spoke menacingly into her ear as he carried her towards the master bedroom.
“Laxus!! Stop! I’m still sore.” Lucy complained, but the heat pooling low in her belly suggested otherwise.
“Should have thought of that earlier when you compared me to a fillet mignon.” His teeth nipped at her ear. “Now, let me truly cash in on my prize, blondie.”