psa: yeah, it's been a long time since i've updated this story. two main reasons: one, i needed to get this organized before i added more to this stack of jerza smut, because it turned into a multi-chap into a hybrid of a multi-chap with additional chapters. and two, because my writing style has changed A TON and it felt weird to be adding new smut into this collection when it reads so differently.

but that said, i know that plenty of you have been asking me to update and i am very excited to tell you that i am very willing to do so. i've fixed what i needed to sort out for now, and i will be adding more to this collection of jerza smut! thank you to everyone that has been waiting patiently and have been reading and reviewing all this time!

again, to note, these are all still individual one-shots that are in no way related to each other! but ok ok, on the show, right?

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notes: I suppose after writing acnoleen (acnologia x eileen, the new ship on the street) the sexual tension left me at a point where I felt inspired to write jerza fluffsmut. forgive me.


hands-free
Erza can take care of things herself, but she doesn't mind the extra help.


Erza doesn't think that her glance of Jellal's rather sculpted and sweat-glistened back—fresh from his morning workout—actually turned her on until she finds herself clutching the edge of her seat at work, crossing her legs a little too tight underneath her desk.

She lets out a breath, sighing. She did not think for a second she'd be so affected by that furtive look from under the covers at her husband twisting around to toss his gym clothes into the laundry hamper, hair slightly slicked back from his habitual running of his right hand through over his head after every rep…

Well. He most certainly had an early morning, she thinks, her mind venturing further through her imagined sequence of his events—Jellal massaging soap suds over his hardened-from-weights and warm-from-exercise shoulders and upper arms…Jellal taking a deep breath in and out, chest expanding at the peak of his inhale and diaphragm and abdomen contracting at the rest…Jellal shuddering and exhale quivering under the cold water while he waits for the water to heat up…

She clears her throat and shakes the image from her head, squeezing her eyes tight and lightly slapping her cheeks with both hands.

The honeymoon-darling-I-love-everything-about-you-let's-fuck-every-night phase of her marriage was long past! How could she be feeling this wanting of her husband even after two toddlers and a mortgage to share?

This must all have to do with the fact that he found a new workout partner at the gym—Laxus, was it?—and started to get excited again about shaping up for the summer.

She can't imagine who Jellal could possibly be shaping up for—but she can never stop the pursed smile that curls over her lips whenever she thinks that, well of course he's shaping up for her. And how else would she be able to fully appreciate his hard hard work except fully naked, lips on lips, skin on skin, moans on moans—

She is getting caught up again, she realizes, recrossing her legs in the other direction and reminding herself that she is most definitely at work and that she is most definitely in the cubicle right across from her employer's door.

She twirls the pen in her right hand—too shaky to sign another document for the past hour—and damn that all she can think about is going home as soon as possible to get rid of the tension hot and uncomfortable at the center of her hips.

She thinks briefly of excusing herself to the bathroom to settle things because she feels ripe enough to burst at the seams but oh hell no, she is absolutely not that lurid and bathroom stalls are probably the most terrible places to get anything done.

She would wait.

And wait she does—groaning to herself almost every eight to twelve minutes for the hour hand on the clock to tick to her time home.

Today, she wastes no time getting straight to bed, and almost forgets to close the door behind her before she kicks off her shoes, peels off her stockings, pulls off her top, pushes down her bottoms and settles into the smooth silky sheets of the bed while her hand settles onto the slick slippery folds between her legs.

She curses in satisfaction and a moan slips from her lips. Her body has been waiting an entire day and she was more than capable of handling—no pun intended—her issues on her own.

Erza bites her bottom lip, bucking her hips. Her thighs squeeze together, inner muscles vibrating sweetly at her impatience. She lets out some form of a grunt and tucks her mouth into the bicep of her free arm, gently running the sharp edges of her teeth over her skin before she allows herself to continue circling her moistened fingers over all the spots that she is well aware is she cannot resist but simply must forbid herself until the very moment she—

Her astute-from-having-young-children ears hear the click of the lock at the front door.

The salacious cloud steaming her mind disappears almost immediately. She stills, deducing everything she can about the situation—it's little past six o'clock and the only other person that enough grip strength to turn the key that quickly aside from herself is Jellal—and deducing her next best course of action—tuck herself under the sheets and wait for him to realize that she's very much undressed and well…take things from there…

But there's a mischievous and snickering little part of her brain—the same one that peeked at Jellal pulling his shirt off this morning while pretending to be asleep—that thinks what a fun experiment to see what would happen if he just happened to catch her in the middle of her self-care.

And so her hand drops back down to where it needs to be and she props herself in a way that seems inviting. Her heart beats fast, and quite honestly, she's so focused on trying to figure out how close he is to the bedroom door and discovering her that she can barely focus.

Her skin prickles once she hears the jiggle of the doorknob—and oh god, this is all a terrible idea, isn't it?—and then the door swings wide open.

"Hey Er—" and the smile from his face turns into wide-mouthed awe.

She opens her eyes and pretends to be surprised, but she's not very good at it and everything just comes out sly and she is very sure that he can read every detail of her face (and well, all her everything else) down to the very fact that yes, she been contemplating his sexy self even as she was ordering her first coffee—mocha latte with extra whipped cream on top—this morning.

Something that sounds like 'shit' rolls off his tongue and he quickly closes the door behind him, gesturing a little awkwardly and saying something incoherent about 'kids' and 'picking them up' and 'they're home'—and it's around this time that Erza remembers that it's a Thursday (Jellal's day to transport the kids) and that this particular Thursday the kids are not going to piano lessons because the instructor is out of town.

Erza thus 'eeps!' and slips back under the safety of the bed, while Jellal excuses himself from the scene and decides to go take care of the kids before he presumably comes to take care of her.

She blushes and sinks into a cave of blankets and pillows, giggling at the whole absurd situation and flushed embarrassed at the whole premise of her needs.

"Oh my god…" she chortles into her wrists, covering her face with her arms, curled in a ball in the middle of the mattress—bed completely messed up and sheets unstraightened.

She laughs and laughs and laughs so hard that she doesn't even realize that Jellal has locked the door behind him (after making sure the children are occupied doing whatever he got them to be distracted doing—probably TV) and has pulled off his work shirt until he flings aside the blankets that are covering her.

"Hey, you," he says—barely, before her lips lock over his and pull him down over her, her hands gripping hard against his shoulder blades, her legs wrapping around his waist, ankles crossing behind him just below his belt.

"You caught me wet-handed," she finally snorts, amusing herself with her own lame joke, but he still smiles wide and laughs for her entertainment. "I wasn't able to finish the job."

They chuckle between exchanged kisses, and Jellal slowly takes control—until his lips are rough against her neck, his hand is tracing light circles along her stomach, and her laughs become gasps.

He wastes no time. She doesn't complain.

"Need help then?" he growls along the swell of her thigh, strong hands parting her knees all the way to the mattress. "Finishing?" he clarifies, hot breath tickling her at the very core.

His eyes meet hers, intense and hot, looking up at her through the cleavage of her breasts.

She nods—and when she sees his eyes turn back down and his eyelashes flutter half-closed, she moans (only a little hushed because the walls are thin) and clenches the sheets into tight fists, pleased—oh so pleased that she doesn't need to offer him a single hand in finishing her right up.


notes: narration style in this fic was more or less of an experiment. emdashes galore.

and in case anyone is wondering, which I'm sure you're all not because this is tmi, if given the content of this fic if I'm feeling desires right now, I'm very much not. my muse must be horny though, so I thought I would at least write this while the words were coming. pun intended.

let me know what you think! as always, still always, very appreciated!

thir13enth