You're the new adventurer who has taken over the farm south of Mistria. While March didn't like you in the beginning, he began to warm up to you. You find out just how much he's accepted you one night at the Forge.
WARNINGS: embarrassing fluff, word throw-up, and slight NSFW content hinted. MxF
Thanks for reading!
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You knew it was much too late to be working the forge, but you couldn't help yourself.
By the time you had exited the mines that day, the sun had long since decended past the mountain peak overlooking Mistria. At midnight, the blue skies had darkened to nearly black, with glittering diamonds framing the silver-painted moon. You were exhausted. Your arms ached from the day's work, and your eyelids were heavy. But it was worth it because tucked neatly into your bag was a stack of gold. Literally.
While making your way into town, you peered at your treasure with a grin. You knew that the ingots made from the mined ore would not just benefit you, but also the town. With the amount you'd collected, you'd easily be able to upgrade your pickaxe and then some, plus have extras to share with the local blacksmiths. You couldn't wait to present a fresh bar to March and Olric.
And it could have easily waited until the next morning... But you couldn't help yourself.
That's how March found you only minutes later; hunched over his anvil, your eyes soley focused on the sparks flying from the scalding metal as your hammer kissed its golden surface. The sleeves of your shirt were rolled up and over your elbows, showing the map of faded scars that stretched across your skin and your jeans clinging tightly to your curves. You hadn't even noticed him approach. He stood there for a moment in pure silence, watching in awe as you continued. He had spent his evening at The Sleeping Dragon, maybe (definitely) having one-too-many ales with Ryis and talking about their latest projects. March's head felt fuzzy, and with quiet steps, he moved to stand behind you. The scent of the mines clung to you; a mix of smoke and dirt, as well as your shampoo.
"Looks good."
Your arm jerked, the heavy hammer skiddering to a halt. "Fuck, March! You nearly scared the life out of me!" Your head turned in his direction, narrow eyes finding his. He had the ghost of a smile on his lips. Of course, he'd enjoy your spooked reaction.
He held his hands up innocently. "'M'sorry. Didn't mean to, I promise. I've been here for..." How long had he been standing there for? He couldn't tell. "Well, I've been here."
There was a real smile on March's lips at this point. You cocked your head at him, huffing slightly. "Don't make it a habit." You turned your attention back to your work. "It is looking pretty nice, right?"
March hummed in response, ducking his head lower towards yours. The faint scent of booze clung to March's clothing, giving you a good idea of where he'd been. "Oh! That reminds me, I found something for you." You set the head of the hammer onto the ground, leaning its handle against the anvil to rummage through your bag. After a few seconds, you finally found it. Its surface was unnaturally smooth, its golden face pure and strangely unblemished. With your free hand, you grabbed March's blindly. You didn't notice the hitch in his breath as you momentarily tangled your fingers with his. "Here. I thought that you, out of all people, would appreciate this the most."
You deposited the ore into March's hand. Almost immediately, he recognized what was given to him, and he beamed. "Why are you giving me something so thoughtful? Are you expecting something in return?" His words didn't hold its normal bite. Instead, his tone sounded more teasing. He looked up at you, his eyes glittering and his voice dropping an octave. "Well... thanks."
Immediately, your face bloomed red. Normally, March held a certain attitude towards you, the newcomer. While it had drastically improved over the last few weeks, you hadn't expected such a flirtatious move. The last time March had acted in this fashion was when he had a little too much to drink, which you had only witnessed once. And while you were well aware of March's looks, you had not once realistically played around with the idea of March being a man to pine over. He just didn't see you in that way. which was fine.
Unfortunately, your heart wasn't on the same page that your brain was.
"N-no problem." You mentally cursed at yourself for tripping over your words. Stupid.
"I'm serious." March stepped forward and clumsily grabbed your hand. He pressed it to his chest, your palm laying flat on the blacksmith's thin shirt. You could feel the heat radiating from March's body, as if there was a furnace placed where his heart would be. "I seriously appreciate this. I've never seen such a beautiful piece of gold ore."
You laughed, your nerves slowly calming. "Okay, okay. Message received." You used your trapped hand to pat on March's chest and attempted to pull away. Instead, his grip only tightened. "Uh... March?"
He caught his bottom lip in between his teeth. He seemed to contemplate his next words, but only for a moment. "It's still not as beautiful as you, though." The slur of his words had faded just a little, but March's drunk confidence was still ever-present.
You froze, eyes moving upwards to meet his. You felt as if your heart was about to beat out of your chest. "You're drunk, March. You don't know what you're saying." Trying to play it off as a joke, you attempted to smile at the redhead. But it didn't come off in the way that you had hoped because March only furrowed his brows. He looked frustrated at your words.
"Noooo." He drawled his word out and used your trapped hand to tug you closer. "I'm only a little tipsy, but I'm well-aware of where I am, who I'm with, and what I'm doing." His dark eyes were solely focused on you and slowly trailed from your face and down your body. "Do you know how long I've wanted to tell you how pretty you are? You're absolutely stunning. You're like... Like... This piece of ore! Golden, perfect, loved by everyone." He waved around the chunk of raw metal in his other hand, as if it helped to prove his point. He was on a role. "You're also so smart. You know exactly what we need, and even when I was so unwelcoming in the beginning, you never called it quits. You know just what to say and when to say it. You're so brave, going down into the mines and fighting anything in your path. And your confidence is just... such a turn-on. When you give me any kind of attitude, it makes me want to grab you and kiss you." He blabbered without thinking, and all the while, you turned even more and more red. "And I've been trying to be nicer to you because Ryis said that women prefer guys who compliment them and hold the door open and do chivalry shit. But you don't even bat an eye, and I don't know what else to do to show you I like you."
March finally paused long enough to catch his breath, and before he could launch himself into another tirade, you used your free hand to slap it over his month. "Alright. I get it." Your cheeks were aflame, your gaze jumping down to your hand on his mouth, to your hand still clung against his chest, to his necklace. You didn't know where, exactly, to look.
March released your hand and grabbed at your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his. He had his brows pulled together as if trying to figure you out. Your mouth was dry, the heat in the blacksmith's gaze smoldering out anything you were planning to say. Instead, you freed March's lips from their makeshift prison. He continued to stare at you quizically.
"So?" He finally prompted. "Are you going to let me kiss you, or what?" You could see March's confidence wavering the longer that he looked at you, as if finally realizing all of the emotions that were just dumped on you. He began to chew on his bottom lip again nervously. "I mean, if you don't want to-"
You cut him off by surging forward, grabbing the front of March's shirt to yank him down to your level. He stumbled forward, eyes widening in surprise as you closed the gap between you two. His lips crashed into yours, most likely bruised as you molded into him. March was still, and for a moment, you had worried you might've hurt him, but suddenly, he was a flurry of movement.
You heard the clang of the gold ore hit the ground, and then March was tangling his hand into your hair, tilting your head upwards to better meet your lips. His other hand found purchase on your hip, pulling your body flush against his own. His chest was pressed against your own, heartbeat erratic and no doubt matching the rhythm of your own. One of his legs slid in between yours, his thigh pressing deliciously against your core. You gasped, and the second you had parted your lips, March's tongue delved in deeper to taste you. He was a starving man, and you were his oasis.
The two of you only pulled apart to catch your breath. March's lips were swollen and bruised, his tanned cheeks flushed as he gazed down at you with hooded eyes. He looked as if he wanted to eat you up, and you could only assume you had the same expression. His chest was still rapidly rising and falling as he brought his lips on you once more, making a wet trail from your cheek and down the curve of your neck.
His name left your lips in a breathy moan, and you felt March's toothy grin against your skin. "Is it safe to say that you like me, then?" His cockiness had returned once more, but you weren't complaining. Instead, you twisted the cord of March's necklace around your finger.
"That depends." You mused, glancing up at March through your lashes as he pulled his lips away from you. "You wouldn't make me say it first, would you?"
March flushed, narrowing his eyes at you. "You brat." He grumbled, grabbing at your hips to pull you against his body once more. He huffed. "I like you. Good?"
"Hm, I don't know. I don't think I heard you."
"I like you! Jeez." He squeezed your hips. "Don't test me, new girl, or I'll make you regret it."
"Promise?"
Your response was innocent enough, but March's grin darkened as he brought his lips just inches from yours once more. "Cross my heart."
You pretended to hesitate, but the words were already leaving your month before you could stop them. "I'll need to hear you say it... just one more time, March."
A deep growl rose from March, and he twisted a hand in your hair. He tugged at your hair just enough to elicit a gasp from you. His eyes had become hungry once more as he leaned down. His next few words were husky, taking your breath away in a nervous rush.
