swallowed by the sea

He arrives to her apartment after a job that lasts two weeks.

It's how it's always been since they started this—is it even a relationship, Gray wonders. Not that he minds, he wouldn't mind keeping her for himself, but would she like that? Of course she would, he retaliates, letting a slow smirk creep onto his lips; he winces as the cut on the right side of his lower lip reopens.

He takes his shirt off and it's drenched with water from the snow outside. Gray sighs and drops it by the entrance, kicking his boots off and tousling his hair as he walked further into the apartment.

It's close to midnight and every light is off. He walks with a slow stride, one of his hands pressing against his left ribcage and wincing at the pressure.

Gray finds her in her bedroom, wearing nothing but a dark blue wool turtleneck, hair tied up in a messy bun and a tea cup in between her hands. She looks up as soon as he pushes the door open and leans against the door frame, his hand still pressed against his ribcage.

"Gray," she greets, smiling broadly and blinking a strand of blue hair out of her eyes. "You're hurt?"

He shakes his head. "Just a nasty bruise."

He walks towards her, sitting on the edge of the bed with a soft groan. She leans forwards, dark eyes wide and hands hovering around him; he snorts and swats her away, leaning back until he's half-lying on the mattress, eyes glued on the ceiling. "So what'd I miss?"

Gray turns in time to watch her shake her head and smile, grabbing her tea cup and pushing it in between his cold fingers. It forces him to sit up again, staring down at the liquid and the wedge of lemon resting at the bottom. Gray doesn't like tea, but, well. He does need to warm up—it's cold out there, even for someone like him.

Or maybe he just wants to be compliant with her—watch her watch him drink the tea and press his lips against the wet spot where her lips had been.

He does exactly that and smirks at the fascination in her eyes.

"It's sweater weather," she murmurs, shifting so she's kneeling on the bed, her turtleneck riding up her thighs. "That's what Levy says."

Gray eyes her exposed legs, a rumble in his chest. She's doing it on purpose—she knows her legs drive him crazy. He rolls his eyes and leans towards her nightstand, setting the empty tea cup on it and returning to his seat. "Yeah, Levy has a pretty fancy way of saying it's really cold outside."

"I missed you," she murmurs, lips barely moving and eyes staring at him from under thick cobalt lashes.

He smirks, leaning back onto the mattress and letting the elbow closest to her support his weight. "Yeah?"

She leans forwards and brushes her lips against his.


Gray likes that.

She pulls back and she's blushing. Gray grins at her, crookedly, reaching towards her and placing his hand on her knee. He looks down, raising an eyebrow at the gray knee-length socks she's wearing, her toes wiggling as if feeling his stare on them. "What even."

"I'm cold," she whispers, bashfully.

He snorts, tilting his head so his messy forelocks wouldn't cover his eyes. "Yeah, well, you should'a thought about that before just wearing a shirt."

Juvia pouts and Gray wonders when she's become so seductive and if she realizes she's doing such a deed.

"I needed to keep myself warm until the real heat came to me," she murmurs.



She definitely knows what she's doing.

Gray growls and squeezes her leg and smirking at her shivers. Perhaps he should go on long jobs more often; he seriously loves what the lack of his presence does to her. He shifts, again, sitting up high enough to press his lips against hers, roughly kissing her and running his hand up and down her thigh. Juvia shudders, leaning back until she's lying down and he's hovering above her.

His bruised ribs throb but Gray doesn't care enough for it; he rolls them over, his hands gripping her thighs as she straddles his hips. Juvia's eyes dance with fascination and they shine navy blue under her lashes. She grins, licking her lips and rolling her hips to test the waters.

Gray glares at her, teeth gritted.

"Take these socks off," he growls to distract himself.

Juvia begins to lean to the side but an image appears in Gray's mind, his fingers gripping the hem of her turtleneck. They break away from the wool material and grab her wrists, instead. He pulls her down, pressing his lips against the sensitive spot behind her ear. He murmurs, "On second thought, keep them on."

She hisses, scrapping her nails down his chest, biting his guild stamp and sucking at his collarbones. He lifts her turtleneck up and off her body, throwing it aside and admiring the way she looks, wearing nothing but the skimpy panties (Erza and Lucy's doing) and the knee-high socks, long wavy blue hair covering her breasts and a blush stretched across her cheekbones.

Fuck, if she isn't beautiful.

He kisses her, then, pulling her down by a yank of her hair, swallowing her yelp and allowing his hands to wander. She quickly shoots her hands down, unbuckling his belt, pulling back for air but not before taking his lower lip (he sees stars when she licks his wound in a soothing manner) in between her teeth.

His pants come off, quickly, and soon after that, they're pressed together with no layers in between them.

She kisses his jawline, biting his earlobe and sinking herself down. She rocks her hips, leaning her forehead against his shoulder. Juvia rides him with a force that slams the frame of the bed against the wall. Gray grits his teeth, head sinking against the pillow and fingers tracing the guild stamp on her thigh. Her soft pants grow more guttural, louder as she inches closer to her release.

Gray will not have it.

He rolls them over, guiding her by her hips until she is on her knees, hands gripping the frame of the bed. Gray squeezes her hips, running his tongue up her spine before sliding inside, fucking her with uncontrollable desire. He kisses her throat as she throws her head back, eyes clenched and mouth open in silent screams.

He groans onto her shoulder when his relief comes, body shuddering violently.

Gray rolls over before he collapses onto the bed, next to her, panting and moving his hair away from his face. She curls up next to him, bringing the covers up to their chests. He can feel her heartbeat still trying to calm down and he smirks, the hand of the arm wrapped around her coming up to curl her hair around his finger.

She falls asleep as soon as she's comfortable in the burrow of covers and skin on skin. Gray waits so his pulse matches the throbbing of his ribcage before he dozes off.