Is this what it's like to have sex with an ice-make mage?

Juvia can't wrap her mind around what's happening to her in that very moment – the only thing she can register is that this isn't Gray, this is Lyon, and oh God, does it feel good. She loves Lyon, and what he's doing to her is pushing her to her limits and beyond; she's imagined every possible scenario for making love, except with Gray as the one dominating her, the one taking charge and making her scream. And the things that boy could probably do with the assistance of his ice-make magic – God, she'd get hot just thinking about it.

And yet, Lyon is here with her right now, and the careful movements of his hands and fingers are driving her crazy. Her water body feels as though it's boiling, her skin flushed and sweaty, but his touches are ice cold, and it's sending a different kind of spark through her limbs. Imagining was one thing – experiencing it was another.

His breaths – those are what really makes her lose her mind. Each exhale of his is defined by a small cloud of fog – she can't tell if he's making his breath cold on purpose or if it's something natural, but whatever it is that he's doing, she loves it. His saliva is like freezing water and his tongue, slippery and icy and just too damn teasing. He holds her by her wrists with one frigid hand, almost tight enough to crush her bones, and he keeps them pinned above her head so that she can't do anything.

Not that she really minds. She likes being helpless to the assault of pleasure that he's unleashing on her.

His mouth begins occupied by hers, their tongues engaging in a dance for dominance; Lyon holds the kiss until he needs to breathe, and he lets her know that he's moving elsewhere by nibbling softly on her bottom lip first. In response, her eyes flutter halfway open to meet his gaze, and she closes them again, tipping her head to the side and letting his lips come in contact with her jaw. He trails kisses down to her chest, and as he reaches her breasts, he tightens his grip on her hands to keep her from escaping.

Juvia loves that.

She turns her head to the side, panting against the pillow and letting out soft whines as he takes her nipple in his lips, his free hand massaging her unattended breast. Her skin is flaming hot, but his breath is freezing against her sensitive bud, and he tweaks her other nipple with his icy fingertips. The sensation leaves her breathless, moaning and writhing beneath him in desperation for something more.

She's planned it out in her mind before, with Gray. But this isn't Gray. Not even close.

Lyon acknowledges her wordless pleas with a quiet chuckle, and Juvia sends him a glare that he simply can't take seriously – with a few locks of her curled mess of blue hair clinging to her sweaty face and her eyes half-closed and darkened with arousal – but he's sweet to her anyway, murmuring into her ear.

"What would you like me to do to you first, Juvia?" His deep voice rolls off his tongue, his breath cool against her ear as he clamps his teeth down gently on the lobe. It's strange; Juvia hadn't thought of Lyon to be the kind to taunt her this way – only Gray. But the white-haired man is on top of her now, trailing his fingers along the Fairy Tail mark on her thigh and snickering affectionately into her ear as he offers different things she can request of him.

She can't find the words to tell him what she wants, soft pants and quiet moans the only kind of language she can speak. And he understands, his tongue trailing a cold lick from the sensitive spot just below her ear to collarbone; shivers wrack her spine as she claws at his hand with her fingers, desperate for something to hold onto, something to clutch, but he doesn't seem bothered in the least by the red marks forming on his skin, dotted with drops of blood.

His teeth clamp onto her neck, and he gives a rough suck to her skin, prompting her mouth to open up in a soundless cry as he marks her as his own. Swirling his tongue around the spot, he murmurs his warning to her as his fingers venture from her guild emblem and to the soft, sensitive skin of her inner thighs. "I'll use my imagination."

Juvia squirms – his fingers are like ice, and it feels so good against her hot, flushed skin. Her eyes flutter open, lips parted ever-so-slightly as she puffs out pleased, slightly-nervous sighs, and she stares down at him as he hooks his thumb in the band of her panties, promptly pulling them off her and down her long, slender legs. The blunette helps, lifting each one in turn, and once they're off, he tosses them somewhere, and he really doesn't care where they went, and neither does she.

"This is your first time, right, Juvia…?" Lyon wants to make sure he doesn't hurt her – he would never forgive himself if he does. And truthfully, that's another thing she loves about him; he's not just concerned with his own pleasure and comfort, but hers as well.

She shifts her legs restlessly, anticipating his freezing touches, and she nods weakly. "Y-Yes…"

His lips curve up into a wide smile as he chuckles. It was nice to know that she hadn't done anything with Gray – perhaps he might've had a bit of a problem being her second, especially to him; it's mostly because he thinks – no, he knows – that she's too good for him. And yeah, she might be too good for Lyon as well, but he won't take her for granted, not even for a moment.

Pressing his fingers gently to the spot on her inner thighs, he curves them, letting his short nails tease the hot and sensitive skin. When rewarded with a pleasured sigh and the ever-so-slight buck of her hips, he lets his fingers wander up to her sex. She's wet already, and he feels his pants constricting even more so when he feels that dampness touching the tips of his fingers. He tentatively swirls the pads of his fingers on her clit, wanting to give her pleasure but not sure how rough she can take it.

His tenderness both frustrates Juvia, and further arouses her. She knows she can handle it rougher, more forceful, and honestly, she's looked forward to trying it. But not with Lyon – with Gray, because Lyon isn't the kind of person she'd imagine to pound mercilessly into her, to have her screaming and squirming. But the gentle actions leave her wanting more, craving it, because she doesn't know what he'll do next.

Lyon watches her face to gauge how she feels about his ministrations, studying the way her eyebrows knit and her lips part in breathless puffs of air. He smiles softly at her mewling and slowly draws his fingers away from her clit, and it's that very moment that he realizes she is just too damn cute when she whines.

Juvia arches her hips upward in attempt to keep her need connected with his hand, and Lyon happily obliges, leaning over the blunette as he carefully pushes one finger into her. She whimpers, and her velvety inner walls clench his index finger tightly; he smiles down at her, keeping himself propped up by the hand still caging her wrists above her head. Soft lips ghost across her cheek, relaxing murmurs filling the air alongside her needy cries.

Gray would've done this, she concluded in the past, except he would've been far more vigorous in his movements. Now, though, she can't think of anything she'd rather have. Lyon's treating her so kindly; his whispers into her ear are deliciously arousing, and the gentle pumping of his fingers – two, now – as he carries out a slow, nearly torturous rhythm are things she never knew she wanted before. Such a sweet form of ecstasy had only been thought of, never experienced, and she's having trouble keeping up with all of these strange sensations.

A familiar warmth settles in her abdomen, one she's felt before but has never been given by another. Her hips arch off the bed ever-so-slightly with each thrust, each spread, and each curl of his fingers. She hasn't given up on trying to clutch something for dear life; her nails have no doubt scraped the skin on his hand raw as she claws at him with this mild-but-quickly-rising pleasure prompting sparks to shoot through her lower half.

"What do you want, Juvia?"

Ah, his voice! His voice, she could swoon. She peeks up at Lyon through her feathery bangs, her cheeks feeling even warmer as she catches his gaze. So much tenderness and love lurks behind the dark color of his eyes, and her heart flutters in her chest at the thought, and she parts her lips with the intent to speak instead of add to the musical mewls and moans that almost make up the only language she can manage right now.

"Y-You…"

Lyon dips his face down to hers and presses a soft kiss to her forehead, traces of sweat wetting his lips. As he does so, she tilts her head back just slightly, lips curving into a shaky smile as her eyes flutter shut again, and a sound bordering on a purr is the only thing she manages. He wastes no time in releasing her wrists from his grasp and guiding her legs around his waist with both hands – and whoa, when did he strip out of his boxers? Juvia hums at the thought as the tip of his cock lines with her entrance, and she hooks her ankles behind him to hold him in place.

He pushes into her slowly, giving her time to get accustomed to his size, and though it drives him to the borderline of insanity to keep himself still, he does exactly that. Juvia clenches the pillow in her fist as she tilts her head to the side, mouth wide with a soundless cry and both eyes shut tightly; one of Lyon's hands runs along her smooth leg from her knee to her hip, caressing the skin with a cool touch that causes the blunette to wriggle beneath him, and with him encased in her tight, wet heat, he lowers his face to her neck and lets out a deep groan.

Lyon doesn't wait for a verbal cue from Juvia that it's okay to move; he takes the initiative, rocking his hips forward slightly, bringing them both to a momentary pleasure high. She whimpers at the movement, her legs tightening around his waist, and she cries out even louder when he rocks into her again – and he doesn't know what's more arousing: how she's squirming beneath him at even the tiniest motion, or how loud she is.

He murmurs her name as he props himself up with his hands against the mattress on either side of her head, and his movements change from a slow rocking motion to gentle, slow thrusts. Lyon relishes the needy mewls escaping from the blunette's lips, and her inner walls clench tighter around him every time she hears his quiet, labored grunts.

So this is what it's really like, she muses inwardly, when ice and water truly connect. It's a strangely satisfying unity, Juvia realizes, and she's sure that Lyon is thinking the same. This is heaven – pure bliss; there can't be a feeling greater than what she's experiencing right now, being filled and feeling loved.

Juvia bucks her hips upwards into his as his thrusts change pace, coming a little faster, but just as gentle, just as loving. A chorus of pleasured sighs and choked moans ring in the air, and Lyon turns his head to scatter her neck in passionate kisses; his teeth graze along her skin, and he stops at the junction of her shoulder and neck, sucking lightly. She tilts her head to grant him more access to her smooth skin.

Words aren't needed in this moment; Lyon's vocabulary doesn't extend past her name and a few select curses when he feels an exceptionally sharp bolt of pleasure firing up his spine. The blunette is so far gone that words don't even form on her tongue. Anything outside of her usual breaths and whimpers are too advanced for her to manage as Lyon causes such strong feelings to surge within her abdomen.

Lyon doesn't warn her before he picks up speed, even if it's just slightly. The harder thrusts penetrate deeper, and Juvia cries out, her arms circling around his neck and drawing him closer to her. She tilts her head just enough to scatter exhausted kisses along his cheek and jaw, and her breaths are hot and needy near his ear. Her back arches, bare chest pressing against his – they're locked in a moment that she probably would've sooner killed herself than experience years before.

"Oh–" Her voice fails, a strangled sound coming out instead; trying to urge him for more didn't quite work in her favor when he thrust harder into her, striking a certain spot within her that has her bordering on a scream and a sob.

"A-Almost there?" he prompts, and she forces a nod to let him know, bucking her hips into his movements. Lyon, understanding, carefully pries her left leg free from around his waist, pushing her legs apart even farther; a muffled noise spills past her lips, but otherwise, when he hears no protest, he pulls out completely before slamming back into her.

Juvia tries to force words out of her mouth, now, white-hot pleasure searing through her abdomen at the action, but for a moment, the best she can do is a few cries that border on sobs. Her arms remain tight around his neck, holding him in close, but she tilts her head back in ecstasy.

Lyon – he's doing things to her that Gray would've done, that he had done in her fantasies. Lyon isn't quite that sweet, tender man she'd always viewed him to be; he's pounding into her mercilessly now, making her scream, causing her to border on tears, nearly driving her to beg for more because it's not enough, despite knowing that he's giving her all he can. The burning coil in her abdomen is winding even tighter; she's aching, clenching, whining, shaking, and words suddenly come back to her, but in her haze, she forgets that this is present reality, not a past fantasy.

"Gray-sama!"

This ship doesn't get much appreciation, so I really hope this satisfies some of the Lyvia lovers out there!

(:Mizune