DISCLAIMER: If I owned Fairy Tail a horde of cyber ninja puppy-ducks would attack the guild and Natsu would attempt to fight them off, but end up loosing because they'd be too cute.


Some Like It Hot


In the romance novels, it was always sensual; something the leading female didn't entirely expect but didn't have the nerve to push away – it was something she always secretly yearned for.

That's how it always was, without fail.

It didn't matter if the man was a gentle vampire who despised his own existence and found completion in her or a rough, rouge hunter – the epitome of a rugged man – that had his cold heart melted by her relaxed and untapped sex appeal.

The plot never really mattered, because the sex would never change; it was always slow, deliberate and extremely, painfully passionate.

Always intertwined and bashful, always low pleasurable hums and delicate, searing kisses. (Which Lucy pointed out were contradictions, but no one seemed to pay her any mind.)

She would soak in every page, hoping that one day, something as powerful and tandrid would happen to her whilst she least expected it. That some man would appear in her life, and after months of sexual tension, he would launch himself upon her and ravish her arduously.

Then, Lucy remembered the first time she had sex with Natsu.

She hadn't realized until then that all those books were absolute shit. The authors must have never had sex before, if that's how they described it.

When Natsu thrust her into a wall, it wasn't mysterious or frightening. It wasn't as if she suddenly found Natsu alluring, or that his musk was turning her on.

It was simply intense.

She never once found herself 'whimpering as he sucked along her neck, leaving throbbing welts, showing the world that she was his.' There wasn't enough time for that pansy-ass bullshit.

It wasn't anything like 'the soft pressure of his large, rough hands on her hips soon gave way to harder, deeper rocking and soon leading her into a full-on head-lolling lubricated rodeo.' In fact, it was more like 'you better fucking find something to hold onto or you're gonna fall off the face of the fucking planet.'

There was no 'biting her lip in terror of letting out a single moan of ecstasy, the lone howl of her inhibitions crumbling to pieces because of some silly fling; something she didn't want to mean anything, but did.'

Hell, Lucy was pretty sure between her screaming and Natsu's growling (it was like having sex with a lion or a jaguar), they could've woken the dead.

She knew that every time she was pushed into a clerical closet or on the desk of an elected official whose misfortune it was to have stepped out that everything written in all those books was utter shit.

Natsu was never gentle with a self loathing complex, nor was he the epitome of a rugged man, waiting to have his cold heart melted.

Natsu was ephemeral inelegance, unfazed by time and color. He was willpower and drive and flesh built for sex. He knew every move he'd make from the moment he'd enter a room alone with her. He was calculated heat and, well, an unstoppable lover.

How could a page of petty words describe her unadulterated vexation with her jeans when he had her over a counter, his throbbing cock pressing into her from behind?

How on earth had they ever published a single novel when the female was always timid before him? The man always 'looked down upon her, devouring every inch of her naked beauty, deciding how he would relish in her bodily splendors.' Lucy only ever crept backwards, enjoying the prolonging of sex as she watched his amazing naked body stalk toward her. (And the pink pubic hair really was an event in its self.)

Where did it say that the characters changed positions and proceeded to do it again? They'd only ever do it once in a chapter and collapse like they were dead 'basking in the after glow'. That had never been the case when it came to sex with the fire breather.

And another thing – where was the creativity? None of the books ever mentioned sex on the kitchen floor or in a hot spring or at a wedding reception. Why had her sexual education been tainted by books that weren't really telling her what went on?

Where and when and how Lucy and Natsu had sex was highly dependant on anything but the mood. She could be tired as a mofo and covered in injuries from the mission they had just finished and Natsu could find an excuse to grind her into a pillar, tree trunk or what have you.

Really, where would the books find sex appeal in that?

There was just something about the way he touched her. The way he ran his nails down her body, the way he would occasionally let her ride (which was always odd) and they way he pulled her into him and exhaled across her jaw when he came.

And maybe his penis, too. Lucy supposed that played a sizable role in the matters of sex.

Brilliance shined on Lucy in the throes of an orgasm (the third of the day.)(For some reason, she liked to keep count.) Whenever Natsu showed any sexual interest, she wouldn't deny him. When he was upon her like a beast, she had never pushed him away.

She was just like the female heroine, who'd never expect it but didn't have the nerve to push it away. She always secretly yearned for it; for the nip at her collar, the compulsive squeeze of her left tit (why did he favor it?) and the surprise when her head occasionally hit something.

Lucy decided that the books were wrong. They always had been. But they were only wrong about the men.




AN: Where's the hardcore sex we see in Kingdom Hearts fanfiction? Why hasn't anyone REALLY hit the issue? We needed some.