psa: This is literally just going to be a Jerza drabble dump. Mostly fluffy. (Yes, I know I have a dump of one-shots sugar sweet but I'm reserving that one for longer pieces while this compilation is Jerza of more or less under 1K and mostly requests?) I don't know. Call it one minute fluff.
But anyway, on with the show. With much love, thir13enth.
tumblr anon asks for: prompt 24 ("You're the only one I trust to do this") + Jerza
...
notes: Of course, dear anon. This is Jerza. Of fucking course, I'll do this one.
"You're the only one I trust to do this."
He looks up at her.
She's crouched and hunched over, her back strained in the most contorted way he's ever witnessed on her graceful figure. There's sweat caked over her dusted face, and her hands are littered with cuts. She's thrown her blade to the side, focusing completely on the job at hand. She returns a determined gaze to him, one mixed with hesitant anticipation yet full confidence in him.
Her fingers tremble as she hands him the red jewel, and he carefully receives it from her.
This ruby represents everything she has worked for since the sun rose, and he knows that this is the one moment that will define her victorious or set back, the challenge too great.
But there is no challenge too great for Erza, and Jellal is determined to prove it.
"Of course, Erza," he assures her. "I won't let you down."
And he hovers it over the center of the white expanse before them.
It is a difficult taskāto drop it exactly in the perfect place. But an even more difficult task is holding back the chuckle that is tickling at the base of his throat.
Eventually he snorts.
"Did you just snort?" she glances up at him, looking betrayed and ultra-offended.
"I'm sorry, Erza," he apologizes with a guffaw, and then laughs whole-heartedly.
"This is the most important mission of my life!" she reminds him angrily. Her cheeks are flushed red like her frazzled hair after a long day.
He quiets his amusement. "Yes, yes, I know, love. I'm sorry."
And he places the strawberry at the most perfect spot on the vanilla-frosted shortcake, finishing the dessert. She sighs with relief and he smiles, glad to have met her expectations. He takes the kitchen knife that she's set aside on the counter and hands it back to her, handle first.
"Can I trust you to cut this cake without hurting yourself?" he asks, nodding at her strawberry juice-stained hands and the small accidental slices on her fingers from previous fruit-and-knife mishandling.
She pouts. "Of course, I can," she insists, taking the utensil from him and holding the edge at the radius of the strawberry shortcake.
She slices, and she sighs pleasantly, knowing that everything in the world is right: her day, her Jellal, and her cake.
He sighs in relief at the lack of injuries, and then he wraps his arms around her waist, presses his chest against her back, and kisses the shell of her ear. "Happy birthday, Erza."
thir13enth
