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Prompt: Scars

Dedicated to all you Momma's out there.

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Flawless

By AbsentAngel

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Lucy can't be sure what it is that wakes her up. The clock beside the bed reads 4:17am and in the digital glow she can see nothing out of the ordinary. She can hear the baby monitor crackle on the dresser and for a moment she stiffens – waiting for a cry. When it doesn't come she sighs in relief. Perhaps tonight would be the night that little Nashi finally slept all the way through.

The arm draped over her waist tightens and pulls her closer. There is a hardness pressing suggestively against the curve of her ass, and it makes her stomach tighten and her breath leave her in a stuttered sigh. Hot breath ghosts across the shell of her ear.

"How quiet do you think we can be?" There is humor in his voice that belays how long he's been awake. She can feel his grin against her ear. "We can be like ninjas..." She can't see his face but somehow she knows there is a suggestive quirk to his eyebrows.

The corners of her lips twitch despite the fact that it is four in the morning and she knows the last thing she should be doing is encouraging him. She should be taking advantage of the rare moment to sleep, but she can't help that her body is already responding to him. How long has it been? Five days? Ten? The past few months have been nothing but a blur of late night feedings, stolen naps, and a mere handful of rare intimate moments.

His hand, always so hot, reaches under her camisole and gropes her breast and she gives a pleased intake of breath in response. He hears the tiny sound – he always does – and not a moment later she is being rolled onto her back and he is hovering over her with devious grin. "Is that a y-"

She cuts him off with a kiss, her hand caressing the firm line of his jaw as her lips move leisurely against his. After only a moment she pulls away enough to mutter against his mouth, "Shut up – you'll wake the baby."

His grin widens – a feat that should be impossible, but Natsu has never known the meaning of the word. Impatiently (because that was a word he knows intimately) he helps her drag her top over her head and plants hot, open mouthed kisses along her neck. A blissful sigh escapes her, tilting her head to give him better access. She threads her hands into his impossibly pink locks and pulls him closer. He takes his time kissing down her bare chest while his fingers tease the hem of her underwear

He always seems to know how she wants to be touched – maybe he does. Maybe he has learned her so well over the years that he can anticipate her reactions as well (perhaps even better) than she can.

His thumb brushes against one of the dozen puckered stretch marks on her stomach and she flinches before she can tell herself not to. She hopes that he doesn't notice, but as oblivious as Natsu is to everything else, he has always been way too perceptive when it came to her. He pulls away from her, his brows draw together in concern as he looks down at her. His eyes are soft, and they see way too much. "Luce?"

"It's ok," she mutters. "They don't hurt or anything." She traces the stretch marks with bitter hands. "They're just ... ugly," she confesses, embarrassed to admit that it bothers her. She knows it shouldn't. She knows – believes – that beauty is only skin deep, and she would never in a million years trade her baby girl for her old body back. Still, they sting against her skin and riddle her with doubt. She wishes she could feel the same confidence she had felt only a year ago, but she can't. Her body is so very different and it feels so alien to her. When she looks at herself in the mirror she feels like she is seeing someone else.

Natsu hovers over her, kneeling between her thighs, and replaces her fingers with his warm lips. His touch is so light, so full of love, that it makes her throat tighten and her heart clench. "I think they're beautiful," he says, his words whispering across her skin and making her shiver. "They're like battle scars."

She winces, his words cutting through her regardless of his intentions. "Scars aren't pretty Natsu."

He looks up at her, his calloused palm caressing her hip. "Sure they are." He takes one of her hands in his and traces the faded scar on her wrist with his thumb. "Like this one. You got it from those stupid cuffs Jose forced you into, right?"

The intensity of his gaze tells her that he doesn't need her confirmation - he knows he is right. Numbly, she nods. She is surprised he even remembered.

He brings her wrist to his lips, giving it a chaste kiss. "You know what I think of when I see it? I think of how you believed in me so much that you threw yourself off a freaking tower just because you thought you heard my voice."

Leisurely, his breath skims up her arm and his lips rest against another scar at her elbow. "This one is from your fight with Kain. I wanted you to run for it, but you refused. Said you wanted to stay together. You were so damn brave it just about killed me inside."

He continues, merciless in his pursuit. There doesn't seem to be a single mark on her body that he is unaware of - not a single blemish forgotten - even though some of them she herself can't recall. He kisses each one, smothers them with so much love and heat that it makes her toes curl. Natsu leaves no inch of her untouched. His lips trace over her arms, her neck, her chest. By the time he kisses the scar along her inner thigh (from Flare, he reminds her, when he was so proud of her strength and resolve) she is trembling underneath him.

From her thighs he continues down, leisurely giving her his romanticized retelling of the history behind the puckered scars on both her knees (also from Kaine) and the paper thin line on her right calf (from Edolas). He gives one lingering kiss to the inside of her ankle before his gaze meets hers. His eyes are intense, burning into her and making her heart flutter. His thumb traces over the stretch marks along her lower abdomen, just above the line of her underwear. "You know what I think about when I see these? I think about how damn amazing you are." His lips curl into a grin that is so full of love, so full of awe, and she feels a burning in the back of her eyes. "You made a person, Luce. A little us with my hair and your eyes. There's not a magic in universe that can do that – you gave us a miracle."

Tears are dampening her cheeks. She's not even sure when she started crying. She wants to remind him that he had a part of it too – it takes more than one person to create new life – but she doesn't. She knows what he means.

For nine months of hormonal mood swings and physical aches, of nausea that wasn't limited to morning and frequent trips to the bathroom, Nashi was part of her. For nine months they were inseparable in the most literal, the most physical, of ways. What she ate, Nashi ate. What she felt, Nashi felt. Her body broke itself down, rearranged its parts, to adapt and feed the growing life inside of her. She went through eight hours of grueling labor pain baring down on her. With Natsu's hand strangled in her grip, it was her who opened up her body and screamed through that final push.

She knew, without a doubt, that their little girl was the greatest thing she had ever helped to create. She had just never stopped to think about exactly how much of their daughter she was responsible for. Somehow, keeping that in mind seemed to make her 'battle scars' seem a little less ugly and more like her life's art.

Natsu kisses the corner of her lips, his thumbs bushing away her tears. She responds by tangling her fingers in his hair and slanting her mouth against his with a level desperation she's never felt. The need to feel him, to drown in him, is overwhelming. She doesn't believe that love can be measured – there are only different kinds – but there were few moments in her life that compared to the overpowering love she feels for him in this moment.

His hips move against hers, and their bodies sway in unison. Together they are like sand and sea – a constant rocking of to and fro, give and take, and an ongoing melody of murmured sighs as they come together. They interpret each other's pleasure through soft, whispered moans and sharp intakes of breath. Every wave, every surge of his hips, brings him closer to her. Just a little longer, a little more, and she knows high tide will come and she will be drowning. His mouth – parted and panting – hovers so closely over hers that she feels as if they are sharing the same breath. In the dim room his eyes are dark and endless, so full of adoration and love.

Lucy doesn't think she's ever felt more beautiful.

AN: For Tumblr's Nalu Love Fest. Prompt#6 was suppose to be Dom/Sub. But since that kinda got covered when I did the prompt for "Kink" I made my own prompt for "Scars". I'm happy with how it turned out - it was nice doing a dramatic piece since all the rest were so fluffy/smutty! I don't think this really needed a 'M' rating – the sex is mostly implied – but if anyone disagrees I don't really have an issue changing it. Speak now or hold your peace.

Also, I'm not a mom myself, but hopefully I wasn't too far off the mark? Like, if I could just have maybe hit the target (even if it was only on the itty bitty corner) that'd be pretty great.

Definitely go and check out some of the other participants works as well! They have some very talented writers and artists submitting! There is a link on my tumblr page absent-angel (there is a link on my profile).

As always, if you like it enough to fav/follow then please take the extra minute to leave a review on your thoughts!

Prompt #7: Sexy will be posted tomorrow! It will be my final submission for the NaLu Love Fest (and another lemon).

Followers of "Ignite": Fear not. The next chapter is 2/3 complete and will be posted in the next week unless something seriously terrible happens.