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splendidlyimperfect · 5 years ago

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Written for @fyeahstingsu Stingsu Event 2019; prompt: parents

Also written for Nonbinary Month 2019 (Sting + Trans, Natsu + Trans)

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Natsu and Sting are ready for kids, but what Natsu wants might not be the easiest path.

Chapter Summary: Natsu and Sting are ready for kids, but what Natsu wants might not be the easiest path. Chapters (3/5): 1 | 2 | 3 Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Natsu Dragneel/Sting Eucliffe Characters: Natsu Dragneel, Sting Eucliffe, Lucy Heartfilia Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Flowers, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Dorks in Love, they're adorable and i love them, Natsu is awkward as hell, and Sting loves him for it, Tumblr: FTLGBTales, Marriage Proposal, Weddings, Wedding Fluff, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Pregnancy, Trans Male Pregnancy, parenting, Trans Sting, Trans Natsu, everyone's gay because reasons

*Author’s Note: I didn't tag this as mpreg because it's not a magical pregnancy. Trans men having children is definitely something that happens in real life, and it's becoming more common as people are more accepting of gender and alternative ways to make a family. I tried to portray this as respectfully as possible - I have two children, and wanted to share that joy and sweetness of being pregnant and becoming a parent. <3

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“You’re sure you want to do this?”

Natsu’s head rests in Sting’s lap as they sit on the couch, and Sting combs his fingers through Natsu’s wild hair as he asks the question. Natsu’s got both hands resting on his stomach, and he’s staring down at them intently. He takes a deep breath, then tips his head back and looks up at Sting.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “I’ve always wanted kids. And you have too – we talked about it on our first date, remember?”

Sting nods as memories of that night flood through him. They’d gone to a festival of lights and met under a string of lanterns shaped like fireflies. The night had ended with them kissing on the beach while stars spread across the sky above them. Sting had known that night that Natsu was the one he wanted to be with forever.

“I know,” Sting says eventually. “I just always thought we’d adopt, y’know?”

Natsu grabs Sting’s hand and kisses his palm, giving him the soft smile that makes Sting’s stomach fill with bubbles. “I know it’s…” Natsu sighs. “I know it won’t be easy. Lots of people won’t get it.”

“Like my dad,” Sting grumbles.

“Your dad’s gonna be an asshole no matter what,” Natsu replies, kissing Sting’s fingertips. “And I don’t care what other people think.”

“I know you say that, darling,” Sting says gently, “but this isn’t gonna be something you can hide. And nine months is a long time.” He squeezes Natsu’s hand. “I just wanna make sure that you’re sure.”

Continue reading on AO3

“I am,” Natsu says, and his voice carries no trace of hesitation. “I want this. Want them – him or her or whatever – to be part of me.” He scrunches up his nose. “It’s hard to explain. We’ve always been different about our bodies.”

Sting hums, returning his fingers to Natsu’s hair. To Sting, the idea of his body changing in that way – swelling with life, getting round and soft and unfamiliar – it makes him feel itchy. Wrong. Like he’d felt before he’d started transitioning; skin not fitting quite right. But Natsu’s always been more comfortable being this way, and Sting loves him for it.

“Okay,” he says, leaning down and kissing Natsu’s forehead. A warm, contented feeling spreads through him as he reaches down and rests his hand on Natsu’s stomach. “Let’s be dads.”

Natsu’s right – lots of people don’t get it. Even their friends are hesitant at first; uncertain how to talk about it with them. Strangers make rude comments at the grocery store when Natsu starts showing, and Sting nearly punches a guy in the lineup at Starbucks who calls Natsu a freak.

But the first time that they hear the baby’s heartbeat, all the teasing and frustration and awkward explanations dissolve into happy tears. The hormones make Natsu more emotional than usual, and Sting’s always cried at strong feelings, so the two of them are a complete wreck after the doctor’s appointment. Luckily Lucy and Cana come over with cookies and milkshakes and they end up all cuddling on the couch and watching ‘Queer Eye’ until Natsu falls asleep between them.

They’re at Gray and Rogue’s place the first time the baby kicks. Gray’s the closest person to Natsu, so Natsu grabs Gray’s hand and holds it against his stomach as a grin spreads across his face. Gray looks startled for a second, then his eyes widen as he feels the tiny movement beneath his fingers.

“Holy shit,” he whispers, sitting down on the couch next to Natsu. Sienna, who is three and repeats everything she hears, toddles over and says, “shit.”

“Language,” Rogue chides mildly, but he crouches down next to Sienna as Sting hops over the back of the couch and wraps his arm around Natsu.

“Here,” Natsu says, taking Sting’s hand and pressing it to his stomach. It takes a second and Sting’s worried he missed it, and then he feels a tiny flutter underneath his fingertips. He’s so surprised that he makes a noise that’s halfway between a yelp and a sob.

“That’s our baby,” he says softly, and in that moment, it hits him full force that there’s something tiny and precious and alive inside Natsu. His chest tightens and he presses his forehead to Natsu’s, laughing when Natsu wipes away the tears on his cheeks.

“We cry too much,” Natsu says, laughing when the baby kicks Sting’s hand again. “See, they agree with me.” Then he makes a face. “And they also seem to be doing gymnastics right now.”

“Baby?” Sierra asks. She frowns at Natsu’s stomach for a second, then clambers up into Sting’s lap and pats his hand. Sting takes her chubby fingers and puts them where his hand has been, and Sienna squeaks when she feels the movement.

“Yeah,” Sting says, still staring at Natsu’s face in awe. “Yeah, that’s our baby.”

Natsu swears a lot, but the curses he manages when he goes into labor are impressive, even by his standards. When the ER attendant offers him a wheelchair to get to Labor and Delivery, he’s very eloquent about where and how they should go fuck themself.

“God fucking son of a bitch,” Natsu hisses, squeezing Sting’s so hard that Sting’s pretty sure his fingers are going to break. “What were we thinking?”

Sting’s about to tell him that this was his idea but thinks better of it when their midwife Wendy appears in the doorway and shoots him a glare that days don’t you fucking dare.

“You can do this,” Sting says, kissing Natsu’s forehead and brushing his sweaty hair out of his face. Natsu just groans and clenches his teeth, and Sting feels so helpless. If he could take the pain for Natsu, he would, but all he can do is squeeze Natsu’s hand and tell him how brave he is.

Labor feels like it goes on forever. Natsu manages to nap for a bit after the epidural, but Sting stays awake, running his hand over Natsu’s stomach and talking quietly to the baby.

“Try to be nice to your dad, okay?” he murmurs, pressing a kiss along Natsu’s side. “He’s been through a hell of a lot to have you.”

Six hours later, when a tiny, noisy red bundle is placed on Natsu’s chest, Sting gets it. The look of complete awe and adoration on Natsu’s face is like nothing Sting’s ever seen before, and he understands why Natsu wanted this – why he wanted to have this precious, living thing inside of him.

“I love you so much,” Sting murmurs, reaching out and running his finger over the baby’s tiny nose. Their skin is so soft, and their hair is thick and curly like Sting’s. “Did you decide which name you want?”

They’d come up with a list, but Sting had insisted that Natsu pick once the baby was born.

“Jacen,” Natsu says eventually, hands trembling as tiny fingers wrap around his thumb. The name seems acceptable to the baby because Jacen makes a soft, sleepy noise and cuddles into Natsu’s chest.

“They’re perfect,” Sting whispers, wrapping a gentle arm around both of them and kissing Natsu’s cheek. “And so are you. You’ve been so brave and amazing, and I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Natsu whispers, curling up against Sting.

Sting shifts on the bed until he’s holding both Jacen and Natsu, knowing that everything he needs is right here in his arms.

#fairy tail #ftlgbtfics #ftlgbtales #stingsu #nbm2019 #stingsu2019 #nonbinary month #sting eucliffe #natsu dragneel #sting x natsu #fluff #parenting #prompt: parents #trans #trans character #fanfic #my fic

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splendidlyimperfect · 5 years ago

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When Gray’s girlfriend dumps him right before Christmas, he’s stuck with a non-refundable, three-week holiday to Paris. Without another choice, he agrees to go with a stranger - a man who is remarkably charismatic, and a lot cuter than Gray is willing to admit. It’s supposed to be platonic (Gray’s straight, right?), but Paris isn’t called the City of Love for nothing.

Chapter Summary: Christmas Eve is full of surprises.

Chapters (5/6): 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Relationships: Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster Characters: Natsu Dragneel, Gray Fullbuster, Cana Alberona Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Holidays, Vacation, Christmas, Paris (City), Romantic Fluff, Mutual Pining, Holding Hands, First Kiss, Trans Character, Falling In Love, Strangers to Lovers, Romance, Gray thinks he’s straight but he’s not, Natsu falls in love hard, Gray speaks French because reasons, Tumblr: FTLGBTales

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By the time dinner is over and they’re sitting with a pile of empty plates between them, Natsu’s made up his mind.

He’s going to kiss Gray tonight.

“That was... interesting,” Gray says, setting his napkin on the table and downing the last of his wine. Natsu’s foot finds the back of Gray’s leg under the table and Natsu’s stomach leaps when he hears the hitch in Gray’s breath.

“Did you like it?” Natsu asks, and Gray stares at him. “The food,” Natsu clarifies, dragging the toe of his boot along the back of Gray’s calf.

“Oh,” Gray says. “It, um…” Natsu can’t look away from the curve of Gray’s throat as he swallows. “Yeah.” Gray looks away from Natsu at the stack of plates. “I’ve never, uh... had caviar before.” Natsu makes a face and Gray laughs. “Yeah, it was kinda gross,” he admits.

“Glad you don’t think I’m completely uncivilized,” Natsu says, grinning and nudging Gray’s foot under the table. “This—” He gestures around them at the lights and crystal cups and people in suits “—isn’t exactly the kind of place that I ever expected to end up. I don’t even own a tie.”

“You don’t need a tie,” Gray says. “You look…” He trails off and Natsu quickly looks away, heat creeping into his cheeks. “Amazing,” Gray says eventually. He fiddles with his napkin, keeping his eyes on the table.

Continue reading on AO3

“Oh,” Natsu says. He looks down at his hands, at the tattoos across his knuckles and the frayed edges of his sleeves, and the dark polish on his fingernails. The sensation of inadequacy that’s been tingling under his skin all night dissolves slowly as Gray’s words hang in the air between them. “Thanks.”

Gray glances up at Natsu, giving him a shy smile, and Natsu bumps his shin again before standing up. “Let’s get outta here,” he says, nodding toward the door.

It’s just the two of them in the elevator, and as it starts to descend, Natsu feels Gray tense. The walls aren’t glass like the restaurant, but they are fifty-six floors above the ground. Natsu steps closer and rests his hand lightly in the small of Gray’s back.

“You okay?” he asks, stomach jumping when Gray leans back into the touch.

“Yeah,” Gray says, tipping his head to look at Natsu and give him the same shy smile as earlier. Heat flushes to Natsu’s cheeks, and he’s ready to push Gray up against the wall and kiss them until they’re both dizzy when the elevator dings and the door slides open.

“C’mon,” Gray says as he steps out into the lobby. When he turns back to Natsu, the lights outside make a soft halo around his hair, and Natsu’s sure Gray can hear his heart pounding as he stares.

Later, he thinks as he pushes the door open and they both step out into the cold. I’ll kiss him later, but it’s going to be tonight.

The warmth of Natsu’s hand on Gray’s back doesn’t fade when they leave the elevator and separate to walk down the street. Despite the late hour, it’s still busy, and the lights of the city are bright around them as they make their way through the crowd. It’s colder than it was on the way to the restaurant, and Gray shivers.

“You should have brought your mittens,” Natsu says when Gray blows on his hands to warm them. Gray nods, hunching his shoulders against the wind.

“I forgot them at the hotel,” he says, trying to pull the sleeves of his jacket down over his fingers. “Didn’t expect it to be this cold.”

“It is December,” Natsu teases. “Here.” He tugs off one of his gloves and holds it out for Gray.

“Are you—”

“Yes,” Natsu says, reaching out and grabbing Gray’s wrist. Gray’s heart stutters at the contact, and when Natsu pulls him closer and starts to slide his glove onto Gray’s hand, Gray prays that Natsu can’t feel his pulse slamming under his fingertips.

“Thanks,” Gray manages. Then he looks at his other bare hand and frowns. Natsu gives him a grin, then takes Gray’s hand, tucking them both into his pocket.

“Better?” he asks. Gray swallows and he stares at Natsu’s pocket for a second before nodding. “Good.” Natsu squeezes his hand gently, then tugs on his arm and heads off down the street.

It’s crowded, and Natsu keeps Gray close to him, using his gentle grip on Gray’s hand to guide him around lampposts and between couples laughing under the Christmas lights. The wine bubbling in Gray’s head makes him warm and comfortable, and it feels natural to slip his fingers between Natsu’s, savoring the soft hitch in Natsu’s breath when Gray runs a thumb over his knuckles.

As they step off the path and down toward the river, Natsu’s eyes widen and his expression slips into that same look of wonder that he’d had at the top of the Eiffel Tower. Gray can’t look away from it.

“This is amazing,” Natsu breathes, tugging Gray down to the barrier that separates them from the river. It’s snowing lightly, tiny white flakes drifting through the streetlights and dusting across the water. Christmas lights hang from the awning above them, pale and bright against the dark of the sky.

“Thank you,” Natsu says softly. Gray shifts closer to him, pressing against his shoulder. He’s comfortably warm, now – a combination of the champagne and the heat that Natsu radiates.

“For what?” he asks.

“This,” Natsu replies, tipping his head back and looking up at the sky. The moon is blunt, cutting through the sky and falling in thin, silver ribbons across the water. It brightens Natsu’s face when he turns to Gray and grins. “Guess what?” he asks.

“What?”

“’s Christmas.”

Gray squints at the clock across the river. Natsu’s right – it's 12:02 a.m.

“I guess it is,” he says softly. Natsu’s smiling at him, hair sticking out from under his toque, cheeks flushed pink from the cold. Gray’s stomach flips, just like it did when he peeked over the edge of the Eiffel Tower. He can’t tell if it’s because Natsu’s just as pretty as the view of Paris, or because Gray’s just as terrified of heights as he is of what he’s about to do.

Probably a bit of both.

“Merry Christmas,” he says softly, then leans in and kisses Natsu.

Natsu immediately kisses back like he’s been waiting for Gray to do this since they met. Maybe he has. Either way, he’s soft and warm, and he quickly takes charge, pushing Gray gently back against the railing as he tips his head and runs his tongue over Gray’s bottom lip.

Gray’s skin sparks under Natsu’s fingertips, cheeks flushing hot as Natsu’s hands slide up his arms. They’re both moving, surging against each other as tiny white flakes melt on their cheeks.

Gray slips his hands under Natsu’s jacket, touching the small of Natsu’s back and pulling him closer, shivering when Natsu’s tongue slides tentatively against his, like a question.

Yes, Gray thinks, always yes. He feels light and a bit unreal, like he can’t quite get enough air, but he really doesn’t care because he’s finally kissing Natsu, and it’s exactly as good as he’d imagined.

Eventually they break apart and Natsu presses his forehead to Gray’s, breathing shakily. “Hey,” he says softly, rubbing their noses together.

“Hey,” Gray says, exhaling as he wraps both arms around Natsu’s waist and holds him tight.

They’re quiet for a minute. The only sound is the soft flow of the river behind them, and footsteps on the bridge. Everything else is muffled and calm under the snow and the dark winter sky.

“So,” Natsu says eventually. He pulls back and looks at Gray with wide, dark eyes. “That, uh—”

“I really like you,” Gray interrupts. His cheeks are burning, and it’s not just from the rush of kissing Natsu. “I’m happy you’re here. I mean, here in Paris and also just… with me.” The words tumble out of him in a rush and he feels Natsu’s fingers tighten on his forearms as he keeps going. “I didn’t think—I mean, I’d hoped, but I didn’t want to, y’know, assume, and I’m… really bad at this. Talking, I mean, and the—”

“Gray.” Natsu touches his chin, tips his head up until they’re looking at each other. “I really like you, too.”

Gray can’t stop the smile that creeps across his face as Natsu leans in and kisses him again. Then the wind picks up and Gray shivers, pulling Natsu closer.

“Wanna go warm up?” Natsu asks, pressing another kiss to Gray’s cheek. “I think there’s a Métro station near here.”

“Yeah,” Gray says, stomach leaping with excitement and anticipation. Natsu leans back and takes Gray’s hand again, squeezing gently and then nodding back toward the street.

“C’mon,” he says, eyes bright in the moonlight. “Let’s go home.”

They’re barely back in the room before Natsu’s hands are on Gray’s arms and they’re kissing again. Gray stumbles back against the bed, pushing himself up on one elbow as Natsu separates from him for just a second to throw his jacket on the floor.

“Off,” Natsu says, tugging at the laces of Gray’s boots and eventually tossing them aside. Gray shifts back onto the bed and Natsu follows, straddling Gray’s thighs leaning over him, hands on either side of his head.

“What?” Gray asks as Natsu’s eyes search his face. Natsu laughs, shaking his head and leaning down to kiss Gray again.

“Nothin’,” he says between presses of their lips. “Just wanted to do this since I saw you at the—mmn—the airport.”

A thrill runs through Gray, sparking in his stomach and travelling down his arms until every touch feels electric. Natsu’s mouth is hot and so’s his skin, and Gray can’t choose where to touch so he settles for everywhere.

“Gray,” Natsu whispers against his lips, moving one of his hands up so he can cup Gray’s cheek. Gray can’t quite breathe, and not sure he minds. He traces a path up Natsu’s spine and across his shoulder blades until he can slip his fingers into Natsu’s hair. “Gray,” Natsu says again, and Gray breathes him in, tugging gently at his hair until his neck is exposed and Gray can move his kisses there.

“I wanna…” He exhales, pushing himself up on one elbow and kissing just under Natsu’s ear. Natsu makes a soft, pleading sound and tips his head to the side, leaving Gray with a view of dark brown skin and the bright ink that colors it.

This time, instead of fingertips, Gray traces the curve of Natsu’s tattoo with his lips and tongue, pressing kisses to each flower petal and scraping his teeth along the delicate leaves. He can feel the sounds Natsu’s making, taste the shapes his name makes in the vibrations under his lips.

There are so many things Gray wants to tell Natsu – you’re gorgeous, I love your smile, you’ve made my life brighter, I’ve never felt this way with anyone before and I never want to stop. But the words are stuck behind the frantic pounding of his heart so instead he keeps kissing and touching and pulling Natsu closer.

“C’mere,” he murmurs against Natsu’s skin, grabbing his hips and shifting until Natsu’s lying on his back and Gray’s settled between his legs, fingers resting on the hem of Natsu’s shirt. “Can I…”

Natsu sits up just far enough to tug off his shirt, tossing it to the side and humming contentedly when Gray pushes him gently back onto the bed.

Gray stares down at Natsu. He’s gorgeous – hair bright against the dark sheets, lip caught between his teeth, eyes wide and wanting. He’s wearing a binder again so Gray runs his hands across Natsu’s ribs instead, tracing each tattoo until he’s touching the ones on Natsu’s hips that he’s wanted to kiss all week.

“Can I?” he asks, brushing his thumb over the bright ink. When Natsu nods, Gray slowly leans down and presses a kiss to Natsu’s hip. He hears Natsu’s sharp intake of breath, feels it beneath his lips as he kisses across the tattoo. When Natsu reaches down and touches the back of his hand, Gray slides their fingers together and presses them against Natsu’s other hip, squeezing gently as he keeps kissing.

“Gray,” Natsu whispers again, and Gray thinks he could listen to Natsu say his name forever.

Gray kisses Natsu for a long, long time. He traces the outline of both tattoos across Natsu’s hips; kisses the soft curve of his stomach and the hollow of Natsu’s throat where he can feel Natsu’s frantic heartbeat beneath his lips. Eventually Natsu takes over, tugging Gray’s shirt off so they’re touching in as many places as possible and he can draw soft patterns across Gray’s shoulder blades with his fingertips.

When they finally come up for air, panting and trembling, it feels like it’s been hours. Natsu’s smile is wide, and he’s backlit by the stars and the bright lights of the Eiffel Tower that shine through the window.

“Gimme a sec,” he says, kissing Gray’s nose before sliding over to the edge of the bed. He turns away from Gray, tugging the binder over his head and pulling his t-shirt on instead. Then he rolls back over to Gray and pulls him close.

Exhaustion suddenly takes over Gray’s body and a yawn catches him by surprise. Natsu laughs, tucking his knee between Gray’s legs and wrapping an arm around Gray’s waist. “We should probably sleep.”

“Mm.” Gray rubs his face, then brings his hand up to run his fingers through Natsu’s hair. He presses his forehead to Natsu’s, kissing his cheek as he shifts as close as possible.

“You’re...” Gray trails off, because while there are a hundred words he could use to describe Natsu, he can’t think of any while Natsu is this close to him. “I really...”

“I know,” Natsu says, tucking his head under Gray’s chin and sighing happily. “Me too.”

When Gray wakes up the next morning, Natsu is still curled up against him, gentle fingers tracing patterns on Gray’s bare stomach.

“Hey, you,” Natsu says as Gray yawns and rubs his face. “Sleep okay?”

“Mm.” Gray stretches, pressing himself back into the pillows and then looking up at Natsu. His hair is sticking up in every direction, and there’s a crease on his cheek from the sheets. “Your hair is ridiculous,” Gray says, reaching up and running his fingers through it.

“You like it,” Natsu teases, tipping his head to the side and kissing Gray’s wrist.

“I do,” Gray says, and Natsu’s grin turns into a soft, fond smile. It makes Gray’s chest fill with tiny bubbles. “I like you, too.”

Natsu runs his thumb across Gray’s cheek, then curls his fingers around the back of Gray’s neck and leans in to kiss him. It’s soft, almost tentative compared to the night before, but Gray can still feel the weight of it. Natsu’s touch is sweet and purposeful, and it feels like a new beginning. A promise.

One that Gray intends to keep.

When he pulls back, the morning sun spills through the window, highlighting the freckles across Natsu’s cheeks and the bright green of his eyes. “Merry Christmas,” Gray says softly, brushing a few wayward strands of hair out of Natsu’s face. “What do you wanna do today?”

Natsu grins, flopping back against the pillows next to Gray. “We’ve done enough sightseeing this week,” he says, pulling Gray close and kissing him again. “I think we should spend today in bed.”

#fairy tail #ftlgbtales #ftlgbtfics #gratsu #nbm2019 #gray fullbuster #natsu dragneel #fanfic #update #new chapter #my fic

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splendidlyimperfect · 5 years ago

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Written for @fuckyeahgratsu Gratsu Bingo 2019; prompt: age

Also written for Nonbinary Month 2019 (Natsu + Genderfluid/Gender Non-Conforming)

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Natsu takes Gray to the mountains for his fiftieth birthday, and the hot tub at their cabin is the perfect place to celebrate.

Chapters: 3/3 Rating: Explicit Relationships: Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster Characters: Natsu Dragneel, Gray Fullbuster Additional Tags: Fluff, Established Relationship, Married Couple, Natsu hates winter, Pillow nests, Tumblr: FTLGBTales, Natsu negotiates with sex, but in a healthy way, Genderfluid Character, gender non-conforming, Aged-Up Character(s), Dorks in Love, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Nipple Play, Nipple Piercings, Wall Sex, Coming Untouched, Dirty Talk, Bathing/Washing, Lingerie, they just love each other so much, it's disgustingly fluffy, Hot Tub Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Riding, Genderplay, Birthday Sex, Fluff and Smut, Gray's the best husband Series: Part 16 of the only hope for me is you

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“This was an amazing idea.”

Gray stood outside the car, surveying the cabin as Natsu grabbed their suitcase from the trunk. Snow fell lightly around them, leaving a white dusting of flakes across Gray’s dark wool jacket. He sighed happily, breathing in the mountain air and tipping back his head to look at the bright, cool sky.

“Better than a huge birthday party full of people you don’t wanna talk to?” Natsu teased, closing the trunk and poking Gray in the ribs. Gray rolled his eyes, then turned and kissed Natsu on the nose.

“You know it is,” he said, reaching out for the suitcase. Natsu shook his head and nudged Gray toward the cabin.

The path from the car to the front door was packed snow, and walls of it rose up to hip-height on either side. A string of white Christmas lights hung from the A-frame of the building, casting a pretty glow on the dark wood. Tiny square windows were set on either side of a rustic, wooden door, and a thick layer of snow hung heavy across the roof.

“Do we even have cell reception up here?” Gray asked, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“Nope,” Natsu replied, grabbing the phone and shoving it into his jacket. “There’s a landline for emergencies, but for now you’re stuck with just me.”

Gray laughed, grabbing Natsu’s hand and pulling him toward the cabin. “I think I’m okay with that,” he said.

Continue reading on AO3

The inside of the cabin was small and cozy – just enough room for the two of them. A small set of stairs led up to a loft with a bed, and a stack of cedar logs sat next to a fireplace with two chairs set nearby.

“This is like a book,” Gray murmured, running his fingers over the wooden countertop. Everything in here was deep and rich, natural light spilling in through the windows and illuminating their tiny home for the next few days.

“It, uh, reminded me of The Hobbit,” Natsu admitted, setting down the suitcase and kicking off his boots. He tugged Gray’s jacket off and tossed it on the back of a kitchen chair, then wrapped his arms around Gray from behind, kissing the back of his shoulder. “Remember, it was the first book you read to me?”

Gray laughed, putting his hands over Natsu’s on his stomach and sighing happily. “That was a long time ago,” he murmured. “Twenty… six years?” he guessed.

“Thirty,” Natsu corrected. “We’ve been married for twenty-six.”

“That makes me feel old,” Gray muttered, turning around in Natsu’s arms.

“You are old,” Natsu said, grinning and wrapping his arms around Gray’s waist. “Ancient, even. Half a century.”

“God, don’t say it like that,” Gray said, making a face. Natsu grinned, bringing his hands up to Gray’s face and running his fingers down the stubble on Gray’s chin. “I’m fifty, not dead.”

Natsu laughed, leaning in and kissing Gray. Then he pulled back and gestured toward the back door. “Wanna go in the hot tub?”

Twenty minutes later, Gray was sighing happily, head tipped back against the edge of the hot tub while he watched tiny flakes fall from the sky. Seeing them twist and blow into tiny flurries was mesmerizing, and he laughed as he saw Natsu stick out his tongue to catch some.

“You’re a dork,” Gray said, flicking water at Natsu, who looked indignant.

“Your face is a…” Natsu trailed off, choosing instead to splash a much bigger wave at Gray and bursting out laughing when Gray sputtered and wiped at his face with the back of his hand.

“C’mere, you,” Gray said, pushing himself off the edge of the hot tub and grabbing at Natsu, who yelped and tried to squirm out of the grasp. He was too late, though, and just managed to take a deep breath before Gray dunked him under the water. When he resurfaced, Gray was leaning back again, laughing as Natsu shook out his hair.

“Y’know, I’d retaliate,” Natsu said, reaching out and grabbing Gray’s wrists, “but I love watching you laugh.”

Gray’s cheeks immediately turned pink. “You’re a sap,” he mumbled, but the smile didn’t leave his lips.

“’s only ‘cause I’ve got a gorgeous husband,” Natsu said, pulling Gray close under the water and letting go of a wrist to run his fingers through Gray’s hair. He tightened his fingers, then kissed Gray �� much less chaste than earlier. Gray sighed, breathing into the kiss as he wrapped his hands around Natsu’s waist underwater. Neither of them wore swim trunks, and the Gray’s hands slid smoothly against Natsu’s skin.

“You got a place with a hot tub just so we could fuck in it, didn’t you?” Gray asked against Natsu’s lips. Natsu laughed, nudging Gray backward so he could straddle Gray’s hips. The hot water slid across his skin and he shivered as flakes of snow melted across his shoulders.

“I don’t see you complaining,” Natsu murmured, slipping his legs around behind Gray until he was sitting in Gray’s lap, then running his tongue along Gray’s lower lip. Gray’s hands moved down to Natsu’s ass, sliding his skin before pulling him close. Natsu groaned as Gray pushed his hips up and their cocks slid together.

“What do you wanna do?” Gray asked, hands roaming up Natsu’s back. “Probably not a good idea to actually fuck in here.”

“It’s your birthday,” Natsu replied. “What do you want?”

“I wanna make you feel good,” Gray replied, voice low. Natsu shivered, biting down gently on Gray’s lip before pulling back and gazing into Gray’s dark eyes. He pressed their foreheads together, then nudged one of Gray’s hands up. Gray hummed, bringing his hand to Natsu’s throat, then drifting his fingers slowly across Natsu’s chest.

Natsu let out a soft breath as Gray’s thumb traced a gentle circle around his nipple – almost touching, but not quite. “You’re a tease,” Natsu murmured. Gray hummed in agreement, nudging Natsu’s head to the side and kissing his neck. Natsu shivered as Gray bit down gently, then began to press kisses across to his shoulder.

“You like it,” Gray said, words tickling Natsu’s skin. He traced slow circles around Natsu’s nipple with his thumb, ignoring Natsu’s not-so-subtle nudging, and still avoiding where he wanted to be touched. Natsu made a quiet sound of protest that quickly turned into a moan as Gray’s tongue flicked across his collarbone.

“Gray,” Natsu whispered as Gray dragged blunt nails across his chest, drawing feather-light circles around the other nipple as he kept kissing along Natsu’s shoulder. “Please.”

Gray laughed against his skin, using his other hand on Natsu’s lower back to pull him closer until they were pressed together everywhere except their chests. “I like teasing you,” he murmured, moving his fingers slowly around Natsu’s nipple and brushing lightly against it before pulling back.

Natsu groaned, jerking his hips forward and gasping at the hot, wet friction between them. Steam was starting to curl the strands of hair that were plastered against the back of his neck, and when a chilly breeze blew across his shoulders, he shivered, skin suddenly much more sensitive under Gray’s fingertips.

Gray dipped his head, kissing down across Natsu’s chest until Natsu could feel hot breath against his nipple. Gray’s tongue flicked out, barely touching him, and Natsu moaned, fingers tightening in Gray’s hair.

“God, I love how much you love this,” Gray murmured, brushing his thumb over one nipple while tracing his tongue around the other. “I love making you feel good.”

Natsu was about to reply when Gray pressed his tongue flat against Natsu’s nipple, then closed his lips around it and sucked gently. “Fuck,” Natsu hissed, the sensation sparking straight to his cock as he ground against Gray. Gray’s teeth scraped the sensitive skin as he caught Natsu’s piercing between his teeth and pulled gently. “Harder,” Natsu whispered.

Gray hummed, biting down gently on Natsu’s nipple before tugging harder on the piercing with his teeth. The slight pinch of pain arced through Natsu’s body, and Gray repeated the motion while rubbing his thumb over the other side. Every part of Natsu vibrated with the sensation and he couldn’t help the deep, rough groan that passed his lips.

“There you go,” Gray whispered, sucking hard again before pulling the piercing on the other side. Natsu whimpered and Gray pulled harder, dragging his thumbnail across Natsu’s nipple at the same time. Gray’s cock slid across Natsu’s as Natsu squirmed in his lap, leaving pretty red marks across Gray’s back with his fingers.

“Harder,” Natsu begged again and Gray obeyed, licking and sucking eagerly at Natsu’s nipple while twisting the piercing on the other side. Then he pinched Natsu’s nipple, hard, and Natsu cried out, jerking against Gray. Gray pulled back, ignoring Natsu’s protests as he slid his hand down Natsu’s abs under the water, fingers brushing against his cock.

“Can I?” he asked, other hand gripping Natsu’s ass tightly.

“Y-yeah,” Natsu stuttered, reaching down and taking Gray’s hand in his own. “Just—”

“I know,” Gray said, returning his lips to Natsu’s neck as he rubbed his thumb over the head of Natsu’s cock, ignoring the rest of it entirely. “Like that?”

“Fuck, yes,” Natsu groaned, running his hand over Gray’s cock and enjoying the stuttered breath against his skin. Gray’s fingers traced the head of Natsu’s cock, rubbing gently as his other hand came back up to Natsu’s chest and toyed with his nipple. Natsu groaned, feeling the water slide along his skin as they moved against each other.

“Do you want me to use different words?” Gray asked, sucking at Natsu’s nipple piercing again. Natsu let out a shaky breath, jerking his hips up into Gray’s hand. They’d done it a few times, using words like ‘breasts’ and ‘cunt’ and ‘clit’ when Gray touched him. At first it had left Natsu feeling vaguely unsettled – he wasn’t a woman, didn’t want to be a woman. But sometimes being a man wasn’t quite right either, and eventually it had become comfortable when Natsu was in a particular headspace.

“Yeah,” he said after a second, groaning as Gray bit down on his nipple, then tipped his head up for a kiss. Gray never judged, never laughed, never asked questions that Natsu couldn’t answer. Gray was always Natsu’s safe place.

“Then how ‘bout we go inside so I can eat you out?” Gray murmured against Natsu’s lips, thumb still dragging over the head of Natsu’s cock.

They made it up into the bed in record time, and soon Natsu was lying on his back on the pillows, legs spread while Gray settled between them. Gray leaned down and ran his tongue over the head of Natsu’s cock, circling it slowly as he trailed his fingers down to Natsu’s ass.

Natsu gasped and tipped his hips up as Gray pressed his thumb gently against Natsu’s ass, sucking hard on his cock.

“You gonna tell me what you want?” Gray asked, pulling off and looking up at Natsu through a messy fringe of hair. “Or you want me to tell you what I’m gonna do to you?”

A pretty pink flush ran up Natsu’s chest to his cheeks, and Gray wasn’t sure how much of it was from embarrassment. He knew Natsu liked it when Gray talked to him during sex, but sometimes it was important for Natsu to say it out loud.

“W-want you to…” Natsu trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut and tipping his head back against the pillows. Gray smiled, pressing a kiss to the head of Natsu’s cock.

“You want me to lick your cunt?” he asked quietly, bringing one hand up to rub across Natsu’s cock as he ducked his head down between Natsu’s legs. “Play with your clit? Finger you?” He ran his tongue across Natsu’s ass and Natsu moaned, running his fingers across his own chest as Gray’s thumb brushed over the slit of his cock.

“Yes,” Natsu whispered as Gray’s tongue pressed harder. “All those—that, y-yeah.”

“How ‘bout I do all that and then you ride me?” Gray said, and Natsu trembled underneath his fingertips.

“Yeah,” Natsu whispered, reaching down and twisting his fingers in Gray’s hair as Gray’s tongue pressed against him again. “Fuck, Gray…”

Words were lost as Gray started working on Natsu in earnest with his tongue, hot and gentle as he dug his nails into Natsu’s thigh. Natsu panted and squirmed above him, skin hot and flushed under Gray’s fingertips. When Gray pulled back, he was greeted by the sight of Natsu’s trembling, sweaty chest and bright red cheeks.

“You’re all wet for me now,” Gray murmured, moving his hand down to Natsu’s ass and slowly slipping one finger in. Natsu arched up against the touch, fingers still tight in Gray’s hair. “Wet and tight. You want me?” Natsu nodded, panting as Gray thrust his finger in and out slowly. “Say it,” Gray said, gently adding another finger as he moved up and flicked his tongue across Natsu’s nipple. “Tell me you want me.”

“Gray, fuck,” Natsu moaned as Gray stroked his thumb across the head of Natsu’s cock, biting down on his nipple at the same time. “Want—th-that, want you, wanna…”

“What do you want?” Gray asked, tugging on Natsu’s piercing with his teeth again. “You want me to suck your clit or you wanna ride me?”

Natsu shuddered as Gray added a third finger, sucking on his nipple at the same time. Then he opened his eyes and stared at Gray, eyes wide and cheeks red, before whispering, “ride you.”

Before Gray could say anything, Natsu sat up, pulling hard on Gray’s hair as he kissed Gray’s neck. Gray gasped, tipping his head to the side. “Get on your back,” Natsu growled, nipping at Gray’s earlobe before letting go and pushing him down onto the bed.

Gray bit back a grin as Natsu took control, straddling his hips and staring down at him with wide, wanting eyes. When Natsu leaned over to fumble in their bag, Gray nipped at his chest playfully.

“Behave,” Natsu said as he sat back up, poking Gray in the ribs. He tore open a condom packet and when Gray raised an eyebrow, he shrugged. “I think we’re a bit too old to be ruining hotel sheets.”

Gray snorted, grabbing the condom from Natsu and rolling it on. “You don’t really want me to behave,” he murmured, kissing Natsu’s chest.

“I really don’t,” Natsu breathed, reaching between them to run his hand over Gray’s cock. Gray tipped his head back against the pillows and let out a long, low moan at the sensation, digging his fingers into Natsu’s hips.

Then Natsu sat up, shifting until he was over Gray’s cock, and slowly slid back down, taking Gray inside him.

Natsu took several shaky breaths as he settled into Gray’s lap, one hand splayed on Gray’s chest, the other on Gray’s hip. He closed his eyes, letting himself imagine for a second that he had another body, that Gray’s cock was sliding into him in a different way, that he was rubbing a clit instead of brushing his fingers over the head of his cock.

Gray stilled beneath him, thumbs rubbing gently over Natsu’s hips as Natsu exhaled, leaning forward and imagining curves instead of hard muscle, soft breasts instead of his flat chest.

“You okay?” Gray asked, voice soft. Natsu opened his eyes slowly, taking in Gray’s dark, intense gaze before nodding.

“I just…” It was hard to explain. It wasn’t dysphoria like Ryos or Freed had explained it – there was nothing Natsu hated about himself, nothing that made him feel like his body was wrong and he wished he weren’t in it. But sometimes it felt good to slip into that headspace, and to picture Gray fucking him in a completely different way.

“You don’t have to explain it,” Gray murmured, running one hand up Natsu’s side and back down again to grip his ass. “Does it feel good?”

Natsu answered by leaning back and resting a hand on Gray’s thigh, then rocking forward on Gray’s cock. Gray gasped as Natsu repeated the motion, rolling his hips as Gray’s fingernails dug into his skin.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Gray groaned, guiding Natsu’s hips back again and thrusting up into him. “Look good, too. I like watching you up there, taking me like that.”

“Yeah?” Natsu managed as he shifted and let out an embarrassingly loud whimper.

“Yeah,” Gray replied, running one hand up Natsu’s chest and rubbing his thumb over Natsu’s nipple. Natsu shivered and rocked forward again as he stared down at Gray’s face – wide eyes, bitten lips, red flush across his cheeks. “I love you,” Natsu whispered, leaning forward and pressing his forehead to Gray’s.

Gray was perfect – touching all the places inside Natsu that made him feel needed and alive. His hands roamed across Gray’s body as Gray thrust up into him, fingertips skimming soft skin as he pressed kisses to Gray’s cheeks, his throat, his shoulder. He could barely hear the words Gray whispered into his ear over the sound of his heart pounding, but when Gray’s breath started coming quicker, Natsu ground down harder and tightened around him.

It only took a few more thrusts from Gray for Natsu to come, eyes squeezed shut and Gray’s name on his lips as he shook and shuddered. Gray’s fingers dug into his hips as he kept going, moaning and whispering Natsu’s name.

“C’mon, baby,” Natsu gasped. “Wanna feel you come in me, you feel so fucking good.”

“Natsu!” Gray ground out, thrusting up one last time as he came, head pressed back into the pillow. Natsu could feel Gray’s heart slamming in his chest and he kissed Gray’s neck, breathing unevenly against his skin.

After a moment, Natsu pulled back and stared down at Gray, who was looking up at him with a soft smile on his face. “Hey, you,” Natsu said, kissing his cheek, then his nose, then his lips.

“Hey, yourself,” Gray murmured, grabbing Natsu’s hips and flipping him over until they were facing each other. He reached over the side of the bed to toss the condom in the garbage, then pulled Natsu into his arms, curling up and pressing his head to Natsu’s chest.

They lay in silence for a while, listening to each other’s heartbeats, until Natsu finally whispered, “thank you.” Gray shook his head, kissing Natsu’s chest.

“Don’t thank me.” He ran his fingers down Natsu’s back. “I love you all ways – whoever and whatever you want to be.”

“Now who’s the sap?” Natsu muttered, but Gray could tell there was genuine appreciation beneath the teasing tone.

“Me,” Gray said, leaning back and sliding his arm under the pillow. “’cause I have the most thoughtful – and hottest – husband in the world.”

Natsu hummed happily, running his fingers through Gray’s hair as they tangled their legs together. He kissed Gray’s nose, then reached down and tugged the duvet up to cover both of them. “What do you wanna do tomorrow?” he asked, drowsiness creeping into his voice as he slipped his fingers between Gray’s and squeezed his hand tightly.

“Doesn’t matter,” Gray murmured, kissing Natsu’s temple and pulling him close, “as long as I’m with you.”

#fairy tail #ftlgbtales #gratsubingo2019 #nbm2019 #nonbinary month #ftlgbtfics #gratsu #gray fullbuster #natsu dragneel #prompt: age #nonbinary #genderfluid #smut and fluff #fanfic #my fic

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splendidlyimperfect · 5 years ago

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For @thedarkgodmogar and also a super late entry for for Nonbinary Month 2019 [Sting + Trans]

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Sting lets Natsu see his scars, and Natsu show him that he's not as broken as he feels.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Natsu Dragneel/Sting Eucliffe Characters: Sting Eucliffe, Natsu Dragneel Additional Tags: Fluff, Light Angst, like seriously super light, it's mostly fluff, Making Out, Kissing, Scars, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Trans Character, Trans Sting, Short & Sweet, they're soft and in love, Tumblr: FTLGBTales

TW for scars & references to past self-harm

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Natsu is the first person to see Sting’s scars.

It’s a lazy Sunday afternoon and they’re kissing on the bed, giggling and touching each other gently. The sun spills through the curtain, lighting up Natsu’s dark brown skin with a gentle glow. Sting sighs happily, running his fingers through Natsu’s hair as they kiss.

Then Natsu’s hand slips up under Sting’s shirt and Sting tenses. Natsu immediately pulls back, brow creasing in concern.

“What’s up?” he asks, moving his hand up to brush Sting’s hair out of his eyes instead. His fingers trace a gentle path across the scar on Sting’s forehead.

“’s nothing,” Sting says, but the words are edged with uncertainty, and he won’t look Natsu in the eye.

“Hey.” Natsu runs his thumb across Sting’s cheek and nudges his chin up until their eyes finally meet. “It is something. What’s wrong?”

Sting reaches up and covers Natsu’s hand with his own, turning to press a kiss to the palm of Natsu’s hand. His eyes trace the chaotic mess of scars down the inside of Natsu’s forearms, and when he feels Natsu tense, he shakes his head.

“No, it’s not….” Sting squeezes Natsu’s hand and presses a soft kiss to Natsu’s cheek. “You know that’s not it.”

Sting runs his hands down Natsu’s arms, touching each mark – especially the thick ones across Natsu’s wrists. They’d talked about Natsu’s scars the first time they’d met, and Natsu had been brave and honest about them in a way Sting hasn’t ever been able to be. Even under the summer stars with bubbles in his stomach and fireworks under his skin, he’d never been able to say, me too, I know, I understand.

But now… he doesn’t have a choice.

Continue reading on AO3

“Babe, what’s going on?” Natsu asks gently. He shifts back until he’s leaning against the headboard, Sting still straddling his hips, and runs one hand down Sting’s arm. “Do you wanna stop?”

Sting shakes his head quickly. “No,” he insists, bringing Natsu’s hand back down to his hip, where his thumb had been tracing gentle circles before. Natsu’s hands are warm against Sting’s skin and Sting shifts closer, pressing their foreheads together. “I’ve just got scars too,” he says.

Natsu frowns. “I know,” he says, eyes dropping to Sting’s chest and the scars from his surgery. Those are good scars. Happy ones, because they meant that Sting could finally be the man he’d always known he was.

But those aren’t the scars Sting means. He can see confusion and uncertainty in the green of Natsu’s eyes, and he sighs. “Different ones,” he says softly, then reaches down and tugs his shirt over his head.

It takes a while for him to open his eyes. When he rests his palm on Natsu’s chest, he can feel Natsu’s heart fluttering under his fingertips, matching his own terrified rhythm.

“Can I touch?” Natsu asks eventually, and Sting peeks down at him. His eyes are wide and soft, and there’s a tiny hint of a smile on his lips as he rubs his thumbs across Sting’s hips. Sting nods slowly, letting out a quiet breath as Natsu shifts beneath him.

Sting expects Natsu to touch the most obvious scars, but instead Natsu runs his fingers across Sting’s stomach, tracing the stretch marks that spread there from growing too wrong and too quick. Then he brings one hand to the small of Sting’s back, pulling him close as he slides his other hand up and touches his fingertips to the thin, white scars across Sting’s chest.

“I’m sorry,” Natsu murmurs, pressing his forehead to Sting’s as he draws gentle lines between the moments of Sting’s pain. “I can’t imagine how you felt.” A shiver runs through Sting at the sensation. Thin, hopeless memories of sharp edges and blood and tears and hatehatehate are replaced by a loving ache as Natsu touches each of the scars.

“You’re gorgeous,” Natsu breathes. Sting’s breath hitches as Natsu pulls him in for a kiss, soft and sweet as he brings love to the places that Sting has always hated.

Sting kisses back desperately, not bothering to push away the tears, just letting them fall as he falls more in love with Natsu. He runs his fingers through Natsu’s hair, caressing him and breathing him in as Natsu’s fingers trace constellations between Sting’s scars.

Sting shifts in Natsu’s lap, letting out a stuttered breath as they move against each other. He pulls back just long enough to tug off Natsu’s shirt and toss it to the ground, then runs his hand down Natsu’s chest, up his sides, around to the back of his neck to hold him close.

Natsu makes soft, contented sounds against Sting’s neck as he kisses the soft spot there, then nudges Sting back just enough that he can press a kiss to the scar just below Sting’s collarbone.

Something shifts in Sting’s chest. A heaviness, an ache that Sting’s carried around for so, so long melts under the gentle press of Natsu’s lips. His hands are on Sting’s hips, rocking them together, and he kisses every scar – every memory of hating and hurting and crying alone.

I love you, the kisses say. You’re beautiful. You’re whole. You’re mine.

Sting feels warm tears on his cheeks as Natsu keeps kissing him, keeps touching him in ways that make him feel wanted and alive. When they both finally release, whispering each others’ names against sweaty skin, Sting’s feels like he’s glowing, like tiny sparks are bursting everywhere inside of him and lighting him up from the inside out.

Sting has always thought he was damaged – broken pieces that didn’t quite fit together. But Natsu sees something else. Sting isn’t broken, to him. Sting’s just a puzzle, a series of moments and words and hurts and scars that are slowly coming together under Natsu’s fingertips.

“You okay?” Natsu asks, voice rough and tickling Sting’s skin. Sting laughs, nodding and pressing a kiss to the top of Natsu’s head.

“Yeah,” he says softly, shifting until they’re lying on the bed, facing each other and holding their clasped hands between them. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Natsu murmurs, swallowing down a yawn that’s threatening to escape. “I love you. All of you.”

As Natsu falls asleep, Sting runs a finger across the bridge of his nose, tracing the freckles that dot his skin. Then he looks down at the scars on his chest and gently touches one, running his fingers to the next, then the next and the next. Drawing constellations between them, making new stories.

A warm sense of contentment settles in his chest, and he sighs happily, curling up and tucking his head under Natsu’s chin. Sting is complicated and mixed up, but Natsu’s slowly connecting the dots to make him feel whole again.

#fairy tail #ftlgbtales #ftlgbtfics #nbm2019 #stingsu #nonbinary month #sting x natsu #sting eucliffe #natsu dragneel #fluff #sweet and sappy #trans character

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splendidlyimperfect · 5 years ago

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Written for @fuckyeahgratsu Gratsu Bingo 2019 [late entry]; prompt: life

Gray meets Natsu in the summer when neither of them are quite right - Gray’s broken and aching, and Natsu is trapped as someone he doesn’t want to be. But while Natsu is bold and alive and determined to discover his own way of being, Gray just gets more and more lost. Even Natsu’s brightness isn’t enough to make Gray feel whole, and he needs to figure out who he wants to become before he can start to feel okay.

Chapter Summary: Natsu takes Gray on an adventure.

Chapters (7/7): 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster Characters: Natsu Dragneel, Gray Fullbuster Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, POV Second Person, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Coming Out, Young Love, First Kiss, Nonbinary Character, Depression, Dysphoria, Suicide Attempt, Mental Health Issues, Recovery, Gender Identity, Tumblr: FTLGBTales, Suicidal Thoughts

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cicatrize (v.) to find healing by the process of forming scars

Natsu shows up at your house on the first day of summer with a mix tape and a duffel bag.

“C’mon,” he says, taking your hand and pulling you toward the car. “We’re going on an adventure.”

Your parents have been cautious since the winter, but your mom adores Natsu and trusts him to keep you safe, so she lets you climb in the passenger seat of Rhapsody and head off into the mountains.

The drive is bright, and the sky is blue, and Natsu rolls down the window while he sings along to some pop music you don’t recognize. You tap your feet to the rhythm and when Natsu sees, he gives you a smile that makes your heart skip.

You wind through mountains and past fields, twisting further and further into places you’ve never been until you’re lost and full of wonder. You press your face against the window and stare down into the valleys of trees, across lakes the reflect the sun, up to mountain tops that are dotted with snow as they pierce the sky.

“You okay?” Natsu asks after a while. You look back over at him.

“Yeah,” you say, and you mean it.

The corner of Natsu’s lip quirks up and he glances over at you quickly with bright eyes before turning back to the winding road. “Are the meds helping?” he asks.

“I think so,” you say, thinking of the bottle of pills rattling in the bottom of your backpack. “They make it brighter.”

Natsu doesn’t say anything else, just reaches out and grabs your hand, squeezing it tightly as you head deeper into the places the world made before humans were alive.

Eventually you pull over for lunch on the side of the highway, sitting on the back of the car while you eat. Natsu made peanut-butter-and-jam sandwiches and they taste like being six and playing in the park.

You like food, now. It doesn’t hurt to eat.

“You hear that?” Natsu asks when you’re done, and you follow his gaze into the woods on the side of the road. You hear water, thundering down from the mountaintop, cutting through the earth and filling the forest with sound. Natsu turns to you and grins, jumping up and grabbing your hand.

You head into the forest, ducking under mossy branches and over roots that twist and break the ground, catching each other when you lose your balance. Sunlight filters through the trees, gentle and golden, and casts dappled shadows over both of you as you make your way further into the forest.

“We’re close!” Natsu says, tugging on your hand as the sound of pounding water gets louder and louder. He’s practically vibrating with excitement and it’s contagious, tugging you lips into a smile.

When you finally reach the waterfall, you can’t do anything but stare. It’s powerful and ancient, tearing its way through the rocks and crashing down into the basin at its base. Light spills and reflects off the surface of the water, and it calls to you, pulling you toward this primal, stunning force of nature.

You follow Natsu into the pool, rolling up your pants and shivering as the chill pricks at your skin. “It’s freezing!” you shout, hunching your shoulders against the cold spray of the water. Natsu just laughs, tipping his head back and closing his eyes as the mist plasters his hair to his head. He’s so bright and alive, and you feel like crying, but not because you’re sad.

Before you can change your mind, you grab your shirt and tug it off over your head. Natsu looks at you with wide eyes, then grins, wading through the shallow water to tuck your clothes up onto a rocky ledge. You hold each other’s arms as you kick off your pants and underwear, and then you’re both naked, shivering as the breeze throws droplets of icy water your way.

Natsu moves to cross his arms over his chest but you shake your head, reaching out for his other hand and gripping it tightly. For the first time since you met him, he looks shy, cheeks pink as he stares down into the water instead of into your eyes.

He’s gorgeous, and you want to tell him, but instead you pull him toward you as you back toward the waterfall, feeling your way over the rocks as the pounding water gets louder and louder. When you finally duck under the spray, it knocks your breath from you, slamming down onto your shoulders and plastering your hair to the back of your head.

You burst out laughing, tipping your head and letting the water run over your face. The rock is smooth against your back, holding you up as the water pounds down around you, terrifying and exhilarating. You feel weightless, like your body doesn’t matter. You’re a million tiny pieces, every little thing that makes up you, and the mountains, and the water that’s washing away the things that hurt.

When you finally step out of the water, Natsu is staring at you with a strange expression. You shake out your hair, sputtering and wiping water from your face, and he reaches out to grab your hand.

“I’ve never heard you laugh before,” he says softly, eyes searching your face. You stare at his freckles, at the scar on his chin, at the soft hairs that curl around the back of his neck.

It finally hits you that he’s waiting for you to kiss him.

You take a step closer and his eyes widen – bright and green and full of life. When your fingers touch his cheek he exhales, hand coming up to cover yours, and then he turns his head and kisses the scar on your wrist.

Tiny sparks of light race from your palms to your chest, tingling and bursting under your skin, and you slide your fingers into his hair. He trembles against you and you pull him closer, then tip his head up and kiss him.

It’s more right than anything you’ve felt in your life. He’s warm under your fingertips, alive and brilliant and so in love with you that you can feel it in the way his hands pull you close. You’re both surging, reckless beings, wild and dizzy with freedom and the summer sun.

When you finally break apart to breathe, his smile is radiant, and he runs his thumb over your cheek before nudging you back toward the water. You grin, pulling him close until you’re both under the fall, gasping for breath and laughing as you hold each other close. All you can hear is the dull roar of the water as it pounds down around you, and you pull him in for another kiss.

“I love you,” he whispers as you press together, fingers in your hair and on your hip. You can’t stop touching him. He shivers as your hands roam across his shoulders, slip down his arms, brush across his collarbone, pull him close by the small of his back. Your heart pounds when he pushes you back against the wall, pressing his thigh between your legs and kissing you like you’re the only thing in the world.

There’s nothing in the world right now except the way you fit together, and all the pieces of you that he loves.

“I love you, too,” you say against his lips, and they’re the truest words you’ve ever said.

The first time you met him, you were at the lake, and he wasn’t himself yet. You were broken and he was trapped, and everything had to shatter before it could be new.

But the first time you kiss him, you’re in the place where the world was made, and he’s himself, and you’re becoming.

#fairy tail #gratsubingo2019 #nbm2019 #gratsu #ftlgbtales #ftlgbtfics #nonbinary month #gray fullbuster #natsu dragneel #prompt: life #happy ending #nonbinary #trans #fanfic #update #new chapter #completed fic #my fic

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splendidlyimperfect · 5 years ago

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Written for Nonbinary Month 2019 and also for @thedarkgodmogar

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This is a companion piece to how to become a wildfire and it also deals with the topic of abuse. However, this work is focused more on the aftermath of being abused as a child, and features a lot of bad coping skills, including alcoholism. Trigger warnings will be posted on each chapter.

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Sting’s life has been a mess ever since he was eleven years old and Rogue told when he’d promised to keep a secret. Now Sting is an adult, and the only way he knows how to cope is by getting drunk and forgetting the world. When drinking nearly kills him, he gets a chance to turn his life around, and maybe fix his past mistakes.

Chapter Summary: Sting hits rock bottom.

Chapters (1/20): 1 Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Rogue Cheney/Sting Eucliffe, Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster, Sting Eucliffe & Natsu Dragneel, Sting Eucliffe & Weisslogia Characters: Sting Eucliffe, Natsu Dragneel, Rogue Cheney, Gray Fullbuster, Weisslogia Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Past Child Abuse, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Trans Character, Trans Sting, Friendship, Childhood Friends, Sting-focused story, Sting is a disaster, Natsu’s a great friend, Rogue tries to do what’s right, Tumblr: FTLGBTales Series: Part 2 of i’m still standing

** TW for drinking/alcohol poisoning, mentions of past abuse & suicidal thoughts

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worth· less | \ ˈwərth-ləs adjective : lacking; having no real value or use

xi december

Sting hits rock bottom three weeks before Christmas.

“Holy shit, are you okay?”

The voice coming from above him is familiar, but when Sting squints up at the person it belongs to, he doesn’t recognize them. To be fair, they’re nothing but a vague blur of blue and pink.

“’m fine,” he mumbles, tipping his head back against the wall and sighing at the cool brick against his skin. He expects the person to leave – they usually do – but instead, there’s a warm hand on his forearm.

“Hey, c’mon, look at me.”

Sting frowns, looking down at the hand and then back up to the person. Now that they’re closer, Sting can see that the pink is their hair. He’s pretty sure he knows someone with pink hair, but everything is fuzzy and kind of numb right now, so it’s not important.

“Go… ‘way,” Sting says, batting feebly at the hand on his arm. His arms are heavy, and moving makes the whole world spin until it’s nothing but a blur of colors and shapes that tug at whatever’s left in Sting’s stomach.

He leans forward and throws up.

“Fucking hell!” the person shouts, scrambling backward as Sting tips to the side, gagging on the taste of liquor that’s stuck in the back of his throat. He tries to push himself back up, but his arms aren’t really working, and Sting’s pretty sure that’s not a good thing.

“S’rry,” he slurs, then throws up again, tears forming in the corners of his eyes as he tries to gasp in air.

“Sting, what the hell?” The voice is still there, and the pink blob moves back into Sting’s space, warm hand now on the back of his neck instead of his arm. Sting flinches and tries to shove the hand off, but they’re stronger than him. Everyone always is.

“Don’ touch me.” He tries to sound assertive, but it comes out more like begging – please stop, please don’t hurt me, please just leave me alone because I can’t feel anything and that’s fine.

“Call 911,” the voice says to someone else, and Sting’s fear starts to turn to panic.

“N-no,” he mumbles, forcing himself to keep his eyes open and actually look at the person in front of him. It takes him a second, but he eventually realizes it’s Natsu. They had worked together at the café until Sting had fucked up and gotten fired a few weeks ago.

“’m sorry,” Sting manages, trying to shrug off the hand that’s still on his shoulder. Where is he? Everything’s just vague shapes that move in ways they shouldn’t, but Sting’s pretty sure that’s an Exit sign above Natsu’s head. The wall behind him isn’t really a wall, it’s metal bars, and… “Stairs.”

“Yeah, you’re on the stairs,” Natsu says, keeping his hand on the back of Sting’s neck. “Are you hurt?” Another hand starts to move across Sting’s body and Sting finds enough strength and coordination to shove Natsu away.

“… said don’ touch me.”

Please. Don’t hurt me. I won’t do it again. I’ll be good, I’ll be better, I’ll—

“Sting, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Continue reading on AO3

Someone else is nearby, another blurry shape that’s saying things like drunk and maybe high and agitated into a phone.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Natsu says, and a wounded, angry noise breaks from Sting’s throat as he tries to shuffle further back. He misjudges and everything tips beneath him again. The ground reaches for him, dragging him down until his cheek meets concrete.

He can’t feel it. It doesn’t matter.

“Not,” Sting mumbles as he tries to push himself up. He can taste blood now, but that’s nothing new. “Jus’… don’t.”

“I’m sorry, I won’t touch you.” Natsu’s voice sounds distant, like the words are fighting their way to Sting, and that’s fine because he needs to get as far away as possible. “There’s an ambulance on its way, you’re gonna be okay.”

“’m fine.”

“You are the farthest fucking thing from fine,” Natsu says, and there’s that sharp edge that Sting’s been waiting for. He can’t bring his arms up, they won’t listen to him, but it doesn’t matter because everything is numb anyways.

“Just keep breathing, okay?”

Sting’s pretty sure he’s not in control of that anymore, and now his body really isn’t listening to him because everything’s going tight and it hurts like hell and he can’t stop shaking, and suddenly, he’s certain he’s going to die.

-----

Waking up is so unpleasant that the first few time Sting does it, he refuses to stay conscious and fades back into something numb. Eventually he can’t keep himself asleep, so he cracks one eye open and immediately wishes he hadn’t.

“If you weren’t already half-dead, I’d murder you.”

Pink hair again. Natsu’s sitting next to Sting, hair mussed and eyes red with lack of sleep. Sting blinks a few times. When he finally realizes he’s in a hospital room, he isn’t really surprised. It’s not the first time.

“You almost died,” Natsu says, leaning forward and rubbing his face. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I…” Sting’s not sure what to say to that. “’m sorry,” he manages, closing his eyes against the headache that’s starting to pound in his temples. His cheek hurts, and he vaguely remembers falling face-first onto the concrete.

For a few minutes, the only sound in the room is the soft beeping of whatever machinery is hooked up to Sting. Then Natsu sighs, sitting up and running his hands through his hair.

“You’re an idiot,” he says, glaring at Sting. “You know how long you’ve been out?”

Sting squints at him. There’s still a foggy haze around everything, and his tongue feels too big for his mouth.

“Two days,” Natsu says before Sting can answer. “You had a seizure before the ambulance could get there. I thought you were gonna die.”

Sting tries to focus his gaze, then gives up and squeezes his eyes shut. “Sorry,” he mumbles, bringing a hand up to rub his face. The other is attached to an IV that aches beneath his skin.

After a minute he opens his eyes again and frowns at Natsu. “Why’re you here?” he asks, realizing as soon as the words leave his mouth how ungrateful he sounds. He’s about to apologize again when Natsu interrupts him.

“Because you don’t have anybody else.”

Sting’s cheeks burn and he tips his head back onto the pillow, trying hard to blink away the tears that are quickly filling his eyes. “Fuck,” he whispers. His throat hurts and his stomach aches and part of him wishes he had died.

“I’ve...” Sting tries to talk but the words come out as more of a sob. When Natsu’s hand covers his own he flinches, but Natsu doesn’t let go.

“Do you wanna quit drinking?” Natsu asks gently.

Sting can’t stop the tears, so he just lets them fall, streaking down his cheeks and dampening the pillow. Natsu already knows. When they’d worked together, he’d caught Sting sleeping off a hangover in the back room. Sting had managed to stay sober for six days before that, but it hadn’t stuck. It never does.

Sting nods, rubbing the tears from his cheeks. “Yes, fuck, I...” He’s hit by a wave of nausea and he tenses, squeezing Natsu’s hand out of reflex. When the feeling passes, Sting lets out a quiet, gasping breath. He feels so small and stupid.

“You can stay with me,” Natsu says.

The words don’t register at first. Sting’s too busy focusing on not throwing up that it takes him a minute to process what Natsu’s said.

“What?”

“Stay with me,” Natsu repeats. He’s still holding Sting’s hand. “At my apartment. You don’t have anywhere to live, right?” Sting shakes his head, still dazed. “If you’re really gonna quit, you can stay at my place, but you’ve gotta be serious about it.”

Sting can’t look at Natsu because if he does, he’ll fall apart completely. He doesn’t deserve help. Part of him wants to refuse, wants to push Natsu away before Sting hurts him, too. All he does is fuck up and hurt people.

But he’s scared and exhausted and so goddamn lonely, and he desperately wants to be more than this.

“Okay,” he says, and the words scrape the inside of his throat, but they feel right.

#fairy tail #ftlgbtales #ftlgbtfics #nbm2019 #stingue #nonbinary month #sting eucliffe #rogue cheney #natsu dragneel #fanfic #my fic

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splendidlyimperfect · 5 years ago

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Chapter Summary: Terrified of Rogue's parents finding out, Sting runs back home. But home isn't safe, and Sting's running out of options.

Chapters (4/?): 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Rogue Cheney/Sting Eucliffe, Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster, Sting Eucliffe & Natsu Dragneel, Sting Eucliffe & Weisslogia Characters: Sting Eucliffe, Natsu Dragneel, Rogue Cheney, Gray Fullbuster, Weisslogia Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Past Child Abuse, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Trans Character, Trans Sting, Friendship, Childhood Friends, Sting-focused story, Sting is a disaster, Natsu’s a great friend, Rogue tries to do what’s right, Tumblr: FTLGBTales Series: Part 2 of i’m still standing

TW for child abuse - scene isn't explicitly described, but injuries as a result are (from child's POV)

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dev· as· tate | \ ˈde-və-ˌstāt : to bring to ruin or desolation by violent action

ii summer age eleven

He’d promised.

Sting runs the whole way home from Rogue’s house. He’s not wearing shoes, but he doesn’t even feel the rocks or pavement or the tiny pieces of broken glass that cut his feet. The sun is already hot, and by the time Sting can see his driveway, his hair is sticky with sweat and he can barely breathe.

Sting feels sick when he looks up to see his bedroom window closed. He’d left it open when he’d snuck out last night.

His dad knows.

Sting looks back down the street toward Rogue’s house, half-expecting to see Rogue running after him, yelling for him to come back. Sting’s stomach hurts and he squeezes his eyes shut to stop himself from crying. Why did Rogue tell? He’d promised to keep it secret.

The front door of the house bangs open and Sting jumps, wishing he could hide. But he’s in the middle of the road, barefoot and dressed in yesterday’s clothes, and his dad is there, staring out at him with blank eyes.

“Get in here.”

Sting obeys quickly, looking down at the ground as he slips past his father into the house. His hands are shaking and for a second, he considers running upstairs and locking himself in the bathroom. But his dad isn’t yelling, and maybe it won’t be that bad.

Continue reading on AO3

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly as his dad slams the front door. “I went to Rogue’s house. You were asleep and I didn’t wanna wake you up, and—”

He trails off because his dad isn’t even looking at him. He’s staring at the wall behind Sting’s head, eyes almost black, worse than they were last night when he’d yelled and smashed his beer bottle to pieces against the wall. Pieces of glass are still littered around the living room floor.

“Dad, please,” Sting whispers, but his dad can’t hear him, so Sting squeezes his eyes shut and backs against the wall, arms up to cover his face. Maybe if he’s quiet, it won’t hurt.

-----

It does hurt.

Sting presses himself against the wall of his closet, wiping tears away as the room swims in front of his eyes. It’s worse than the time he fell off the swing at the playground and landed on his back so hard he couldn’t breathe. He can’t feel his hand and his tummy hurts and he can’t stop crying.

Don’t be such a baby.

Sting’s not a baby. He’s not, but no matter how many times he whispers it, the tears won’t stop falling. A sob tries to break out of him, but he doesn’t let it, pulling his knees to his chest and biting the inside of his cheek.

When the wail of police sirens fills the air outside, Sting’s heart nearly stops.

Go away, he thinks, squeezing his eyes shut and curling up tighter, willing himself to be as tiny as possible. Maybe they won’t find him. Maybe his dad will say that Sting’s at Rogue’s house, and that the broken glass was an accident.

But Rogue’s parents know, now, and Rogue’s house isn’t safe anymore either.

Sting bites his lip, torn between pushing the closet door shut and not moving. If they don’t find him, they can’t make him leave, and it’ll be okay. Dad will say sorry and they’ll go for ice cream and he’ll let Sting get the one with chocolate chips that’s his favorite.

There’s a knock on the front door and Sting whimpers, pressing his forehead to his knees. The floor’s swaying under him, like the boat he went on with Zach last year, and Sting thinks he might throw up.

“Don’t,” he whispers, wiping at his face with the hand that doesn’t hurt. The front door swings open and there are voices he doesn’t recognize, people coming into the house, and Sting can’t breathe because they’re going to see. They’ll see and they’ll think that his dad’s bad, and they’re wrong.

Someone makes their way up the stairs. A lady’s voice calls Sting’s name, getting closer to his room, and he holds his breath, trying to be as still as possible.

He’s not good at much, but he’s good at being small and quiet.

“Abbey?” The lady’s voice gets closer and she pushes open Sting’s bedroom door. He can see her shoes and the red stripe up the side of her pants. “Abbey, sweetheart, where are you? We’re here to help.”

I don’t need help, Sting thinks. Go away, go away, go away.

The lady’s feet get closer and closer, and when she crouches down and spots him in the corner of the closet, Sting wishes he could melt into the floor and disappear.

“I found her,” the lady says into the radio on her shirt. His dad has one just like it and he uses it to help people because he’s good. Sting just needs to be quieter and everything will be okay.

“Go away,” he whispers.

“Do you think you can come out of there for me?” the lady asks, kneeling down on the floor and reaching out her hand. “My name’s Kelly. It looks like you’re hurt.”

Sting shakes his head, but the movement makes the floor spin again, and he whimpers.

“I’m here to help you,” Kelly says, and her voice is so soft that for a second, Sting thinks it might be okay to listen. She moves toward him and he flinches back, making a scared, angry noise that he can’t control. “It’s okay,” Kelly says, putting her hands out as she moves to sit cross-legged next to Sting. “It’s my job to make sure you’re safe. Can I take a look at you? You’re bleeding.”

Sting can’t answer. All the words are trapped in his chest and if he doesn’t say them, maybe his dad won’t get in trouble.

Kelly talks into her radio again. “We need an EMT upstairs, second bedroom on the left.” She looks back at Sting and explains, “an EMT is someone from the ambulance. They’re going to help you out, okay?”

Sting brings his hand up to the spot on his head that had hit the coffee table. It hurts, and it’s wet and sticky and it makes him want to throw up.

Suddenly there’s shouting downstairs, and a loud crash, and Sting’s dad starts yelling things like, “fucking assholes,” and, “get the fuck off me, gonna kick your goddamn ass,” and, “get the hell out of my house.”

Sting hates it when he says those words. They’re angry words – words that mean Sting’s done something wrong and it’s too late to make it right.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“Hey, look at me,” Kelly says gently, holding her hand out between the two of them but not touching Sting. “I know you’re scared, but I’m here, and it’s going to be okay.”

“Why are they hurting him?” Sting asks, and he can’t stop the tears that stream down his face. The shouting gets louder and the sound tumbles through Sting’s head, making him dizzy. His face feels hot and his fingers are numb, and he just wants his dad. “Leave him alone,” he whispers.

“I know you’re confused,” Kelly says, “but it’s not safe for you here right now.”

Sting’s arm aches, and he wants so badly to stop crying but he’s not in control of his body anymore. He hates this, hates hurting but hates it worse when the hurting stops because then he can’t feel anything at all.

“P-please, I…”

There’s another crash and more swearing, and before Sting can think, he shuffles closer to Kelly. Everything’s getting blurry and he’s so, so scared.

“It’s okay,” Kelly says softly as Sting presses himself to her side. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I did,” Sting whispers. “I’m sorry.”

The crashing downstairs gets louder and then stops, suddenly. The front door slams shut and it’s quiet, now – too quiet. Someone else appears at Sting’s bedroom door and for a second, Sting thinks it’s his dad. Before he can think, he curls up against Kelly, pressing his face into her shoulder as she wraps an arm around him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, tears still streaking down his cheeks. It’s like they’re the only words he knows.

“Shhh,” Kelly says gently as the other person crouches down outside the closet. Sting can’t open his eyes. His stomach hurts because he knows it’s not his dad, and he doesn’t know if that makes him feel angry or safe.

“Abbey, this is Chris,” Kelly says, nudging him until he looks at the man with the first aid kit. He’s got gloves on, and he’s holding out a piece of gauze.

“We’re gonna put this on your head,” he says gently. “Is that okay? We need to stop the bleeding.”

Sting’s heart is beating so fast that he can barely breathe, and when Chris reaches out slowly to put the gauze on his head, Sting flinches back into Kelly.

“It’s okay,” she says softly, and for a second he thinks of his mom, rocking him to sleep after a bad dream. It hurts when Chris touches his head, and everything in Sting’s stomach suddenly reappears as he leans away from Kelly and throws up.

“I don’t feel good,” he mumbles, and he can’t stop crying. He hates being sick, hates the taste in the back of his throat, hates the way the room won’t stop spinning. He throws up again and Kelly rubs his back, holding the gauze against his head.

Chris starts saying a bunch of words that Sting doesn’t understand, but he does know what a concussion is. Rogue’s brother Gajeel had one once from football.

“I hit my head,” Sting says, wincing as he coughs around the taste of vomit in his throat. “It hurts.”

“I know, sweetie,” Kelly says gently. “We’re going to the hospital, okay?”

Sting wobbles back against her and before he can argue, she slips an arm under his legs and lifts him as she stands. He wants to struggle, wants to tell her that he’s fine, that he can walk, that’s he’s not a baby. But he’s exhausted and dizzy and she feels warm and safe, so he leans against her as she follows Chris out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

“We’re going to keep you safe,” Kelly says, turning Sting away from the living room as they walk to the front door. Everything’s broken, and all he can see is gentle sunlight, and shards of broken glass.

#fairy tales #ftlgbtales #nbm2019 #nonbinary month #stingue #ftlgbtfics #sting eucliffe #rogue cheney #trans character #tw: abuse #tw: violence #fanfic #update #new chapter #my fic

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splendidlyimperfect · 5 years ago

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Chapter Summary: Sting moves in with Uncle Wes.

Chapters (6/?): 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Rogue Cheney/Sting Eucliffe, Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster, Sting Eucliffe & Natsu Dragneel, Sting Eucliffe & Weisslogia Characters: Sting Eucliffe, Natsu Dragneel, Rogue Cheney, Gray Fullbuster, Weisslogia Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Past Child Abuse, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Trans Character, Trans Sting, Friendship, Childhood Friends, Sting-focused story, Sting is a disaster, Natsu’s a great friend, Rogue tries to do what’s right, Tumblr: FTLGBTales Series: Part 2 of i’m still standing

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ca·su·al·ty | \ ˈka-zhəl-tē noun : a person or thing injured, lost, or destroyed

iv summer age eleven

When Sting wakes up the first day after the hospital, he stays in bed under the blanket for a long time before sitting up and rubbing his eyes. The room is dark, and when he looks down and sees the teddy next to his pillow, he scowls and throws it on the floor.

Sting curls up again and drifts in and out of sleep until there’s a quiet knock on the door. He blinks at the clock – it’s 10:37 a.m.

“Abbey, would you like breakfast?”

Uncle Wes’ voice is gentle – Sting remembers him as being loud and booming, but Sting’s never been scared of him. Now, he’s not sure. Uncle Wes is bigger than Dad, and stronger, but Sting feels safe with him.

“Abbey?”

Sting pushes himself slowly out of the bed and wobbles, catching himself on the side table as a wave of dizziness washes over him. The alarm clock cord catches on his fingers and it falls to the floor with a bang.

No, no, no.

The door flies open and Sting flinches, falling backward onto the floor and bringing up his arms to cover his face. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, tensing in anticipation of a loud voice or angry hands.

Instead, Uncle Wes crouches down next to Sting and says, “it’s okay, it was an accident,” in a gentle voice. “I’m sorry,” he adds. “I didn’t mean to scare you – I thought you’d fallen.”

“I’ll fix it,” Sting says, peeking up at Uncle Wes. He doesn’t look angry, but Sting’s not completely convinced. Maybe he’s saving it for later.

Continue reading on AO3

“It’s not broken,” Uncle Wes says, picking up the clock and examining it, then setting it back on the side table. “And even if it was, it’s okay. Are you hurt?”

Uncle Wes reaches out a hand and Sting hesitantly accepts it, letting Uncle Wes pull him to his feet. His arm aches and his head pounds, sharp throbs that slam against the inside of his temples. Other things hurt, too – a scrape on his back, a bruise on his shin, the bottoms of his feet where he’d run over the rocks on his way home from Rogue’s house.

Rogue, he thinks, squeezing his eyes shut. Hurt and anger fill his chest, and he holds his breath to keep himself from crying.

“You must be hungry,” Uncle Wes says, interrupting Sting’s angry, confused thoughts. “Most of my cereal is boring old-man stuff, but I think I’ve got some Reese Puffs hidden in the back of the pantry.”

Sting looks up, not saying anything but following Uncle Wes out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. A bright beam of sunlight falls across the room, making it seem warm and inviting. Sting lets Uncle Wes help him up onto one of the bar stools next to the counter. He winces – everything hurts, and it’s harder than he expected to do things with a broken arm.

Sting’s eyes roam over the pictures on the fridge while Uncle Wes gets the cereal from the pantry. There’s a photo of Sting in grade one with chipped teeth and freckles and curly hair. There’s another of Grammie sitting with Wes and Dad when they were little boys – Sting looks away from that one quickly.

Most of the other photos are of Uncle Wes with a man in a wheelchair that Sting doesn’t recognize. He’s got short black hair and dark brown skin, and a soft, kind smile. In one picture, Uncle Wes is kissing him.

Something funny flips in Sting’s stomach.

“That’s Muhammad,” Uncle Wes says, setting down a bowl of cereal in front of Sting. It’s followed by a glass of orange juice, and when Sting looks down at Uncle Wes’ hand, he sees a wedding ring.

“Is he your husband?” Sting asks. Yukino has two moms, and a lot of the kids in their classes teased her about it. Sting had told them to shut up, once, and they’d called him names too.

“He was,” Uncle Wes says in a soft, sad voice. “He died last year.”

“Oh,” Sting says quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Uncle Wes says, squeezing Sting’s shoulder and sitting down across from him. His bowl of cereal is twice the size of Sting’s, and he digs into it right away. “Muhammad had a sickness that made his heart very weak.” He looks fondly back at the picture. “We spent a good few years together – I’m glad we had what time we did.”

“I didn’t know,” Sting says softly, poking at his cereal. “Dad didn’t…”

“Your father didn’t approve,” Uncle Wes explains. He takes a sip of his coffee and studies Sting over the top of the mug. It takes Sting a minute to realize that it’s a silent question.

“I do,” he says quickly, looking down at his bowl. “I mean, it’s… fine, I don’t…” He scowls at his spoon, trying to figure out why he suddenly wants to tell Uncle Wes. He’s about to say, I think I like boys too, when he realizes that Uncle Wes thinks he’s a girl.

Sting has never told anybody that he’s a boy – not even Rogue, who was his best friend.

Uncle Wes sits up, reaching over and grabbing the bottle of Tylenol from the counter. “How’s your arm?” he asks, and as soon as it had appeared, the tension in the room is gone. Sting shrugs, staring down at the cast. They’d asked him what color he’d wanted, but he’d been too overwhelmed to answer, so it’s pink.

He doesn’t answer the question, but he takes the pills from Uncle Wes and swallows them down with his orange juice. After a minute, he asks, “is dad going to jail?”

Uncle Wes sighs, and it almost feels like he’s going to take Sting’s hand but decides against it. “I don’t know yet,” he admits. “Officer Kelly is going to come by in a couple days to ask you some more questions, but your father is being held by the police right now.”

Sting doesn’t say anything. His feet don’t touch the ground, so he kicks his legs back and forth.

“Did he do this to you?” Uncle Wes asks gently. Sting keeps his eyes on the table, but he knows Uncle Wes is talking about his arm and his head.

He wants so badly to say no, to tell them that they’re all wrong because his dad loves him. But yesterday was the worst it had ever been, and Sting’s still terrified.

He nods.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Uncle Wes says, sighing sadly. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could have been there.”

Sting shrugs.

The kitchen is quiet for a few minutes as they finish eating. Uncle Wes takes their dishes and piles them in the sink, wordlessly offering Sting more juice before putting it back in the fridge. Sting stares out the window – there’s a planter outside full of bright flowers, and an apple tree beyond that.

“I’m not going back?” Sting asks after a while. Uncle Wes settles down across from him again, leaning forward on his arms, but Sting doesn’t look at him. “To dad,” Sting clarifies. “I can’t go back to live with him.”

Uncle Wes shakes his head. “No,” he says gently. “I know this is overwhelming, but you’re going to be staying here now. Officer Kelly is working with someone called a social worker – do you know what that is?”

Sting shakes his head.

“It’s someone who helps people – and families – solve problems,” Uncle Wes says. “They’re going to help us with lots of things, and one of those things is figuring out if you’re going to be staying here for good.”

“Do I have to go to a new school?”

“Probably.”

“Oh.” Sting thinks he should be angry about that, but the space where he’s usually mad or sad is filled with nothing right now. He rubs his face, then looks up at Uncle Wes.

“It’s a lot to think about,” Uncle Wes says gently. “Officer Kelly will explain more when she comes to visit, okay?”

Sting doesn’t want to cry again, but he can feel his throat doing that funny thing that he hates where he can’t quite breathe. None of this seems real, and he can’t tell if he’s angry or scared or relieved. Maybe all of them at the same time.

“I need to go to the grocery store,” Uncle Wes says, pulling Sting out of his thoughts. “Do you want to come with me? I’m not sure what kind of food you like, so maybe you can help me pick out some things.”

Sting chews his lip uncertainly, looking back down the hallway to the guest bedroom.

“If you’d rather stay here, that’s okay,” Uncle Wes reassures him. “We don’t have to go anywhere. I can ask Helen next door to pick us up some things, or we can go later when you’re feeling better.”

“Yeah,” Sting says quietly. He still doesn’t quite feel real, and leaving the house seems like too much. If he goes outside, he’ll see the rest of the world going on like nothing happened, and he’s not sure he can handle that quite yet.

“Okay,” Uncle Wes says. “Why don’t you have a shower, and then we can find a movie or a TV show to watch?”

Showering is hard because Sting can’t get the bandage on his stitches wet, so he ends up wetting his hair in the sink and rinsing it with a cup instead. Standing under the hot water feels nice, though, as long as he keeps the plastic bag wrapped around his cast.

Eventually he’s clean and dressed in a set of pajamas that are size too big for him. Sting curls up in the corner of the couch and wraps a knitted blanket around him, watching as Uncle Wes flips through channels on the TV. Eventually he hands the remote to Sting.

“I have no idea what kind of shows you like,” he admits.

Sting flicks to the cartoon channel and eventually finds an episode of Pokémon. He’s seen it before, but when the theme song starts to play, it relaxes a little bit of the anger and confusion in his chest.

After a few minutes, Sting realizes that Uncle Wes is still sitting on the couch with him. He’s far enough away that he couldn’t reach Sting without standing up, but he’s still there, leaning back with his arms behind his head and watching the show.

“You don’t have to stay,” Sting says, looking back at the TV. Guilt washes over him, suddenly – Uncle Wes probably has better things to do than sit with Sting and watch some stupid TV show.

Uncle Wes looks over at him. “I want to,” he says simply.

Sting frowns but doesn’t say anything else – just burrows into the blanket and listens to Team Rocket scheme about kidnapping Ash’s newest addition to his team.

#fairy tail #ftlgbtales #nbm2019 #nonbinary month #stingue #ftlgbtfics #sting eucliffe #rogue cheney #trans character #fanfic #update #new chapter #my fic

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splendidlyimperfect · 5 years ago

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Written for @fuckyeahgratsu Gratsu Bingo 2019; prompt: summer

Also written for Nonbinary Month 2019 (Natsu + Trans, Gray + Nonbinary)

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The first time you meet him, you’re at the lake, and he’s not himself yet.

Natsu and Gray aren't quite right, and it takes time and each other to become their real selves.

Chapters: 1/? Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster Characters: Natsu Dragneel, Gray Fullbuster Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, POV Second Person, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Coming Out, Young Love, First Kiss, Nonbinary Character, Depression, Dysphoria, Suicide Attempt, Mental Health Issues, Recovery, Gender Identity, Tumblr: FTLGBTales, Suicidal Thoughts TW for suicidal thoughts

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serendipity (n.) finding something good without looking for it

The first time you meet him, you’re at the lake, and he’s not himself yet.

It’s August, unbearably hot and sticky, and you’re floating on your back in the murky water, staring up at the sky that’s blue and blue and blue, reaching out in every direction as far as you can see. Your skin is already so brown that you don’t normally tan, but even you’ve gotten darker under the burning heat of the summer sun.

You tip your head back and let the water take away everything until all you can hear is your own heartbeat, slow and sleepy as you take deep, even breaths. It would be easy to sink below the surface and never come back – nobody’s watching, it would look like an accident.

Gray’s gone, your mom would say, and her eyes would be wet, but she’d blame the water instead of herself.

Gray’s gone, your dad would say, but he wouldn’t feel shame and disgrace when he walked through the town.

Gray’s gone, your sister would whisper, and she would scream and cry and ache with grief. She would fear the water; never swim again, never spend her summer days with her toes dipped in the lake and the sun burning the soles of her feet.

You can’t do that to her, so when you do sink under the water, it’s only for a few seconds. Your chest aches when you stare up at the bright sun through the ripples of the lake, but you force yourself to surface.

“You’d better not drown,” a pretty voice says. “I don’t want to have to drag you back to the beach.”

You shake the water from your hair and kick your feet – it’s too deep here, can’t reach the bottom, and it’s like jumping from a high place. A girl is watching you, with freckled cheeks, tanned skin, and wild pink hair. She’s lying on her stomach in one of those floating things that Loke brought to the lake, legs kicked up and a bottle of something in her hand.

“I can swim,” you mutter, and your cheeks burn even without the heat of the sun.

“I know,” she says, taking a sip of her drink. A droplet clings to her lip and she stares you down as her tongue darts out and wipes it away. “I’ve been watching.”

You’re not sure what to say to that, because people don’t normally notice you, so you just keep treading water and try not to think about dying.

“What’s your name?” you ask eventually, looking back to the beach. It’s just a blur of bright colors because you left your glasses behind.

The girl doesn’t answer right away. Instead she dips her fingers into the water, and it ripples beneath her touch, tiny rings spreading out until they brush against your chest. For some reason, it feels like she’s touched you. She looks up at you, green eyes bright and mischievous.

“Which one?” she asks. Gray frowns and she flicks droplets of water at him. “My paper name, or the one inside?”

“Which do you like better?” you ask, and the smile that lights up her face is brighter than the summer sun that’s burned up crops and blistered skin.

“Natsu,” she says, and it feels like truth.

#fairy tail #ftlgbtales #gratsubingo2019 #nbm2019 #gratsu #nonbinary month #ftlgbtfics #gray fullbuster #natsu dragneel #prompt: summer #nonbinary #trans #fanfic #my fic

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splendidlyimperfect · 5 years ago

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Written for @fyeahstingsu Stingsu Event 2019 [super late entry I’m sorry!]; prompt: birthday

Also written for Nonbinary Month 2019 [Natsu + Trans, Sting + Trans]

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Sting's known for a long time that Natsu is who he wants to be with forever - ever since the day they met under a string of lanterns shaped like fireflies and kissed under the stars. The life they make together isn't always easy, but it's worth every moment.

Chapter Summary:

Chapters (5/5): 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Natsu Dragneel/Sting Eucliffe Characters: Natsu Dragneel, Sting Eucliffe, Lucy Heartfilia, Levy McGarden Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Flowers, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Dorks in Love, they're adorable and i love them, Natsu is awkward as hell, and Sting loves him for it, Tumblr: FTLGBTales, Marriage Proposal, Weddings, Wedding Fluff, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Pregnancy, Trans Male Pregnancy, parenting, Trans Sting, Trans Natsu, everyone's gay because reasons, Cute Kids, they're both awesome dads

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“I’m five.”

A little voice comes from the other side of the library information desk and Levy frowns, standing up from the computer and leaning over the counter. She’s greeted by a wild head of blond curls and serious blue eyes.

“Hey sweetie,” she says, giving the little boy a smile. “What’s your name?”

“Jacen,” he says, standing on his tiptoes and holding onto the counter. “I’m five and in kindergarten.”

“Wow,” Levy says, opening the gate and coming around the desk so she can crouch down next to Jacen. He’s wearing purple rain boots and a t-shirt that says you are my sunshine, and a clip with a sunflower on it is attempting to hold back some of his wild hair. “Do you need help with something, Jacen?”

“I needed a book,” he says, still looking incredibly serious for someone so little.

“What kind of book?”

“A book to give babies names,” he says. Levy raises her eyebrows, trying not to laugh as she stands up and offers him her hand. He stares at it for a second, then turns around and looks over to the other end of the library where a man with blond hair like Jacen’s is holding a little girl on his lap. The man looks up and waves at Jacen, giving Levy a smile.

“That’s my daddy and my sister,” Jacen says, waving back at the man and then taking Levy’s hand. “She’s two and boring.”

Levy laughs as she guides Jacen toward the nonfiction area, searching the rows of books until she comes to a section on pregnancy and parenting. She crouches down, running her fingers along the spines until she finds two books on baby names.

“Which one do you want?” she asks Jacen, holding them both out for his inspection. He peers at them with narrowed eyes. One is pink with a generic smiling baby on the front, and the other has a rainbow on it.

“I can have both?” he asks, looking up at Levy hopefully. Her heart melts at his sweet expression and she nods.

“Of course,” she says, and when his face transforms into a smile, she wants to pick him up and hug him. “Is your mommy having a baby?” she asks as she stands up and they both head back toward the desk.

“No,” Jacen says, shaking his head. “Papa has a baby.” Levy frowns, looking back over at the man with the little girl. Jacen gives her a spectacular eye roll and sighs. “That’s not Papa, that’s Daddy.”

“Ah,” Levy says.

Continue reading on AO3

She’s about to lead Jacen back over to his father when a voice says, “are you being polite, little man?” Levy turns to see another man with bright pink hair standing behind them and raising his eyebrows at Jacen.

“Papa!” Jacen shouts, throwing himself at the man. “Look! The lady finded me books to make a name for the baby!” Then he kisses the man’s stomach and turns back to Levy with a bright smile on his face. Levy realizes with the start that the man is pregnant, and it takes her brain a second to catch up with Jacen’s excited bouncing.

“I’m Natsu,” the man says, running his fingers through Jacen’s hair and then reaching out to shake Levy’s hand. “Sorry about him, he’s really excited.”

Levy shakes her head, smiling at both of them. “Don’t apologize,” she says, making a funny face at Jacen. He giggles, then lets go of Natsu and hugs her instead. “He’s much more polite than the last person who asked me for help.”

Natsu laughs, rubbing the back of his neck and nodding at the books. “He, uh… he has his own library card, but I’m pretty sure that’s not the kind of stuff kids normally take out.”

Levy waves off the embarrassed explanation, taking the library card that Jacen proudly holds out and running it under the scanner. “When are you due?” she asks.

“Oh.” Natsu’s cheeks turn pink and he looks back down at Jacen. “A month or so.”

“On Christmas!” Jacen says, staring up at Levy with a grin on his face.

“Maybe,” Natsu corrects, giving him a gentle smile. “Remember, we don’t know exactly when.”

“I know when,” Jacen says solemnly. “It’s my superpower.” Natsu rolls his eyes good-naturedly and is about to say something else when Jacen frowns at Levy’s stomach. “Do you have a baby too?” he asks.

“Jacen!” Natsu chides, reaching out for Jacen’s arm, but Levy just laughs and nods. She’s only showing a little right now, but Jacen’s not the first curious kid to ask.

“Guess what?” she says, crouching down next to Jacen again. “I have two babies.”

Jacen’s eyes widen and he looks back up at Natsu, who still looks vaguely embarrassed. “You can have two babies?” Jacen asks.

“Yep,” Levy says, smiling at him. “It’s called twins.”

“Papa, I want two babies!” Jacen says.

Natsu laughs. “No way, kiddo,” he says. “You and your sister and this little one are gonna be enough trouble.”

Jacen’s face falls, and Levy takes one of his hands. “How about when my babies are born, you can come see them?” she offers. Then she looks up at Natsu and adds, “if you papa says that’s okay.”

Natsu looks surprised, then smiles and nods. “Yeah,” he says, taking the books from Levy and resting one hand on Jacen’s head. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“You making new friends?” Sting asks when Jacen and Natsu rejoin him at the play area of the library. Penelope looks up from the blocks she’s playing with and says, “friends!”

“Jacen got us a playdate,” Natsu says, helping Sting up. “With twins.” Sting frowns and looks over at Levy, who is sorting books at the desk. “In six months,” Natsu clarifies. “I’m pretty sure he’s forgotten how boring babies are.”

Sting laughs, kissing Natsu’s cheek. “All right, you two,” he says, reaching down and lifting Penelope up onto his hip. “You ready to go see Uncle Rogue and Uncle Gray?”

Jacen’s eyes widen and he jumps up and down, then grabs Natsu’s hand and starts to drag him toward the doors. Natsu tugs Sting along behind him, laughing at Jacen’s excited squeals. “Guess that’s a yes.”

Sting puts the kids to bed that night while Natsu dozes on the couch.

“God, I love you,” Natsu murmurs when Sting finally reappears. He tips his head back on the couch and smiles at Sting, pulling him down for a kiss. Sting laughs, rubbing their noses together.

“I know you do,” he says. “You want popcorn?”

“Do you really need to ask that?” Natsu replies, curling up in the corner of the couch while Sting heads to the kitchen. Jacen and Penelope are both fast asleep, and part of Natsu feels like sleeping, too.

“You gonna make it through the movie?” Sting asks when he returns with popcorn. “Or should I put you to bed?” Natsu hums noncommittally, shifting to make room for Sting on the couch next to him.

“Maybe,” he admits, leaning into Sting. “You’re comfy.”

“I know,” Sting says, grinning and kissing Natsu’s head. He grabs a pillow and settles it into his lap so Natsu can lie down, then starts running his fingers through Natsu’s hair. “You’ve got peanut butter in here,” he comments, and Natsu just sighs.

“This is the last kid,” he grumbles, shifting to a more comfortable position. The baby kicks hard and he winces, then sighs when Sting starts rubbing gentle circles on his stomach. “That feels good.”

Sting doesn’t say anything, just gazes down at Natsu as he nudges Natsu’s shirt up and traces gentle patterns across his skin. Heat rushes to Natsu’s cheeks when Sting’s fingers run over the stretch marks across his stomach, but he doesn’t pull away. Sting likes him just like this.

“What if I wanna make out with you instead of watching a movie?” Sting asks, leaning down and kissing Natsu.

“I could be persuaded,” Natsu murmurs against Sting’s lips, reaching up and running a hand through his hair. Sting’s gentle touch moves further up Natsu’s side and Natsu hums happily, arching up into the touch.

“Good,” Sting says, kissing Natsu harder. Natsu nips at Sting’s lip and is about to suggest they head to the bedroom when the baby gives a particularly hard kick and he groans, tipping his head back into Sting’s lap.

“Sorry,” he grumbles. “They’re already interrupting us, and they aren’t even born yet.” Sting laughs, and when there’s another kick beneath his hand, he leans down and presses a kiss to Natsu’s stomach.

“I love you,” Sting whispers, and Natsu isn’t sure if Sting is talking to him or the baby, but it doesn’t really matter. The smile on Sting’s face is enough to light up the room.

There’s a familiar twisting sensation in Natsu’s stomach and he watches Sting’s eyes widen as he feels the movement under his fingers. “They’re doing gymnastics for you,” Natsu teases. He shifts again, groaning when he can’t quite get comfortable.

“Wanna come take a bath?” Sting asks, resting his head on Natsu’s stomach and gazing up at him. Natsu yawns, rubbing his face and nodding before looking over at the coffee table.

“What about the popcorn?”

Sting manages to run the bath without waking up either of the kids, and when they’re finally settled into it, Natsu breathes a sigh of relief. He relaxes between Sting’s legs, leaning back against his chest, and hums happily when Sting cups the water in his hands and starts to wet Natsu’s hair.

“You’re spoiling me,” Natsu murmurs, tipping his head forward as Sting’s fingers work out the knots – and peanut butter – from his hair.

“You deserve it,” Sting says, kissing the back of Natsu’s neck. “Plus, I’m not doing this for entirely altruistic reasons.”

Natsu laughs, reaching down into the water and running his hand up Sting’s thigh. The heat and gentle touches are making him sleepy, but he’s not quite ready to end the day yet.

“C’mere,” he says, tipping his head back against Sting’s shoulder and kissing him.

In a few weeks, everything’s going to change again. It’ll be loud and messy, and Natsu’s ready, this time – for the fussing and crying and the sleepless nights in the rocking chair. They’ll all be exhausted, and it’ll be entirely worth it, just like the other two.

But right now, Natsu’s warm and comfortable, curled up in his husband’s arms. They kiss softly, taking their time with each other because these simple, quiet touches are precious and so full of love.

And Natsu will never get tired of moments like this.

#fairy tail #ftlgbtales #ftlgbtfics #nbm2019 #stingsu #stingsu2019 #nonbinary month #sting eucliffe #natsu dragneel #sting x natsu #prompt: birthday #trans characters #fanfic #my fic

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