prompt: hands
notes:
not sure what came over me for this prompt. this was supposed to be 500 words. how it turned into anything more than that is beyond me.


count to five


i.

When her hands grip him harder, he knows that she's almost there.

It's true that he's the one on top right now, but he knows more than anyone else that she's the one that dictates his moves. Her grasping fingers, her scratching nails, her whitening knuckles, her sweaty palms - each clench, each clutch, each time she seizes his arms and each time she scores his back, he can tell she is getting closer.

He doesn't want to do anything that wouldn't end with her sighing in bliss, and although he has desires of his own, what is most satisfying to him is when she mewls his name ever so breathy into his ear, when she moans with her mouth wide open and her back arched high, when she closes her eyes tight and forgets every single thing else in the world except him.

He knows just the things that will push her over the edge - and so he rocks his hips harder, he brings his teeth down to her neck, and he rolls the bud of her breast under his thumb until she releases her grip on him and completely lets go.

.

ii.

His hands keep her legs spread open, and he's left no option for her but to come.

She whispers his name over and over again like a mantra. He can't really distinguish the shits, fucks, and gods from the ohs, ahs, and Jellals, but he knows he's doing a good job by the way that she smells and by the way that she quivers underneath his tongue.

She takes a deep breath, and her mouth falls open. She whimpers and then settles into a moan -

but then he places a single index finger over her lips.

"Shhh, careful now," he warns, with the slightest crook of a smile. "We can't wake my niece up. Meredy would never trust me to babysit her daughter ever again."

.

iii.

His hands love exploring her body, so even though he's already memorized all her curves and edges, he doesn't stop his fingers when they travel past the grace of her waist and rest over the crest of her hips.

She smiles and her eyes flutter open as she turns her head to his direction.

"Good morning," she greets him and stretches her neck forward an inch to press a kiss onto his mouth, which he more than happily returns.

He feels her hand reach for his forearm. She moves his hand further south, and his fingers slip under the lining of her underwear.

He feels her smile widen in her kiss, and he can't help the grin that forms over his lips either.

He just goes with the flow, grazing over the coarse curls between her thighs and tracing small circles around her center before he extends his middle finger and dips in.

.

iv.

Following wedding vows and its well-awaited kiss, there's not much else planned for the rest of the night except for whatever would happen in bed - which, with all honesty, was probably planned.

After all, Jellal knows the signs and symptoms of Erza's lust more than anything else, and when she starts pushing him towards the mattress the moment they waltz into the hotel room of their honeymoon suite, his suspicions are confirmed.

He's not complaining. He lets gravity do the rest.

He groans as she runs kisses straight down from his cheeks to his chest to his cock. When she wraps her fingers firmly around his erection, he feels a cold hard knob over his shaft and looks down, reminding himself that, indeed, she's still wearing the wedding ring he slipped over her finger earlier today.

"You still have your ring on," he tells her.

She looks at him, confused about why she should care.

"Not that I mind," he says, with a somewhat amused expression on his face, "but I just want to take preventative measures for when we get a little...rough."

She sits up and looks at him with an arched eyebrow, but after another moment, she rolls her eyes and pulls her ring off her finger, then slowly leans towards him, walking her hands up the mattress on either side of his bare chest.

"Well," she murmurs into his ear, "You better be rough."

.

v.

Two weeks is far too long for any traveling businessman to be away from their wife - or at least too long for Jellal to be apart from Erza.

He wastes no time getting into bed. She doesn't stop him until her legs are wrapped tight around his waist and he's about to thrust all the way in.

"Oh," she says. "I need to tell you something."

It seems like an afterthought, but her face is much too flushed for it to not matter at all.

He lets out a sound in between a deep sigh and a throaty growl, and then demounts, falling onto his side next to her.

"What could possibly be important than making love to you right now?" he purrs into her neck, tucking a strand of her scarlet hair behind her ear.

"I'm pregnant."

The words take the breath out of him. All he can do is repeat.

"Pregnant," and so he says.

"Yes," she confirms.

Her voice shakes. She's blushing red. Her lips are cracking from a big grin.

He still can't find the words, but he knows that his eyes and his smile are giving his thoughts away.

"And don't you tell a soul about this," she threatens him.

And then she contemplates for a moment and revises. "At least, not yet." Her smile turns mischievous. "I just want to see how long it takes for Mira and Lucy to catch on."

"Erza, I-"

She extends her pinky towards him. "Pinky promise."

He looks at her for a long time, mesmerizing himself in her eyes - her brown eyes, the eyes of his partner in life, the eyes of his love forever, the eyes of a new mother...

Nothing has changed. She's still the same. He's still the same. They're still madly in love with each other.

And yet, everything has changed.

He doesn't think his smile could grow any wider, but it does.

He wraps his pinky around hers.

"Promise."


such cheese. such fluff. does this even count as smut?

as always, looking forward to your thoughts,
thir13enth