gossiping

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"Has anyone seen my Fioran dictionary?" Levy yells from across the room, tearing through a pile of clothes in search of her precious book. 

"No!" Cana yells back, a slight slur to her voice. "and why d'ya need it anyway? What are you gonna do, start translating in the middle of our conversations? Put ya book away and get ya butt over here!" 

You chuckle behind your hand as Levy grumbles, her face popping into view amid the clothes. She looks dishevelled, her royal blue hair sticking up all over the place. She grudgingly stands up, revealing her pyjamas which were just one of Gajeel's shirts: 'Metallica' written across it in creepy, blood-red letters. And because Levy was so much smaller than her boyfriend, it genuinely looked like an oversized dress. 

She climbs on Lucy's king-sized bed, where you sat at the head to the right, comfortably propped up with some baby pink pillows. Cana was lounging off the side, one leg on the bed and the other off, in her underwear (as usual. This time, she's wearing a matching white set with baby ducks on them). 

In the meantime, Juvia was scrolling through Gray's Instagram. Again. 

"I have snaaaaaacks!" Mira sing-songed, entering the room with three trays. Two were held in each hand, and one was dangerously balanced on her head. You would have rushed over to her if she wasn't an experienced barmaid. 

She placed them on the bed and sat down next to you. Soon enough, Erza and Lucy entered the room after having their turn in the bathroom. You all gazed in delight at the array of snacks on the trays- m&m's, chocolate, gummy bears– you name it. 

"So, who's going to be the first one to ask invasive questions?" the slightly drunk brunette mumbled, mouth full of sour candy. 

"That's your job, Cana," you remind her, nibbling on a piece of white chocolate. 

"Alright– so Mira, how big is Laxus'–" 

"Woooahhh, keep it PG in here while we're all still awake," Levy yells, and the rest of the girls who look disturbed and unwilling to hear that information about a childhood best friend. Mira, on the other hand, looked perfectly willing to answer that question. 

"It's cool," Mirajane shrugs, her silk camisole fluttering with the movement. "his tattoo looks really hot when he's all sweaty and stuff, if that helps." 

"Hm, not the answer I was looking for," Cana sighs, leaning back. "but that'll do, I guess. So, Levy dear, what kind of freaky shit do you and Gajeel get up to?" 

Levy chokes on her chocolate. 

"Clearly not something PG," she comments drily as the bookworm keeps coughing, Mira patting her back in her usual motherly way. 

"Y- you already interrogated me the last time! I say it's (y/n)'s turn!" 

"Hey!" you yell. "why throw me under the bus? What have I ever done to you?" 

She sticks her tongue out, but Juvia had put away her phone, and the rest of the girls nodded their heads in agreement. 

"I would like to hear about Sting," Erza stated- and you knew you had no other choice. When Erza wants something, she'll get it, no matter what. You inwardly groaned slumping further into the pillows, hoping to hide from the greedy grins and evil looks that crawled unto your friends' faces. 

"Fine," you mumble, pulling your knees to your chest, oversized shirt slipping over it like a dress. "whaddya wanna know?" 

"Juvia wants to know about the pet names Sting gives you," the bluenette cocks her head to the side, big blue eyes filled with curiosity.

"Literally anything," you shrug, internally thanking God that Juvia decided to go for a more mild question. "sometimes it can be cute, but sometimes the names go way too far. Yesterday, he called me his honey bun sugar plum, and I was thoroughly turned off by that, especially when he sang it."

Rounds of 'awwww...' escaped from everyone's lips, while Erza nodded her approval. You flush at the attention.

"And is he a good kisser?" Levy provoked, grinning from ear to ear.

Your face warms even more. "H- he's fine, I guess."

That was a lie- and very much an understatement. There were too many times when Sting made you light-headed and weak-kneed, just by his wandering hands and teasing mouth. In truth, he was a damn good kisser. 

"I have a feeling that's a lie," your shortest friend chortled,  and you sunk further into the pillows- face heating like sand on the beach, baking under the sun. This was going to be a long night. 

in the beehive | sting eucliffeWhere stories live. Discover now