there’s dialogue the player can get after breaking the final seal where March, if you’re romantically involved with him says
(Spoiler warning just in case 😊)
“I hope that one day I can properly make it up to you. Mistria is a much better place with you in it."
Do you have any headcanons on what some little casual to more romantic/intimate things he’d do to show the farmer he does really care about them and their relationship ?
again hope your doing well ! :)
Aww Maaarchiieeee ❤️❤️ I truly love this man so much 😭There is so much tenderness going on beneath that grumpy, frowny exterior. I firmly believe that March’s primary love language is acts of service and he would 100% do a lot of things to make up for how badly he misjudged you in the past. Headcanons below. Please be well and take care of yourself!
March enters your romantic relationship determined to do whatever it takes to make you happy and make sure you don’t regret giving him a second chance. He feels terrible that he was once so cold and unwelcoming to the person he grew to love so dearly.
He thought he was doing a pretty solid job of digging himself out of the hole he made in the first place by treating a well-meaning and hard-working person like they would never belong here. How he behaved was unkind and unfair, true, but it really isn't a crime beyond all forgiveness to be dubious of an unknown adventurer who showed up for free land with apparently zero actual farming experience. Even if he admittedly took things...too far. By his March mental calculations, he could make things right by you before long. And then he learns the whole story.
And he is DEVASTED.
What do you mean he was giving you hell while you were actively risking your LIFE for his hometown?
You almost DIED??? More than once?! There must have been times early on when you would drag your battered body out of the mines, injured in the service of a god, probably desperate for help or at least a kind word…only to run into him and hear another unfeeling comment about how you weren’t doing enough for Mistria. The revelation makes March feel sick.
He could have made things easier for you all along. He’s a blacksmith, for fucks sake—he could have made your arms and armor himself so you didn’t have to work the forge and save the world.
He does start crafting any metalwork you may need. You already have the very best of swords and shields, but a farmer will always need new tools eventually. You own some really, really nice cutlery now. You never ask. You insist you’ll commission March and compensate him properly if you have need of anything, but he beats you to it every time. He notices when something ought to be replaced just a bit before you do.
He takes physically demanding chores off your hands as often as possible, to the point where you have to tell him to chill out. You don’t mind chopping your own wood. Really, you were going to pay Ryis a bit of tesserae to fix that fence, it’s fine! You are capable of carrying a water pail even if it’s full! But you should probably let him keep at the handyman thing; it makes him feel useful to you. It’s his way of supporting your beloved farm and it isn’t difficult for him at all (because he’s jacked).
He cooks for you. We already knew this to be true, but he really ramps it up. Meals give you strength and March wants to make you the very best and healthiest food possible. He tries to be less hung up on presentation and more focused on delivering the result. Buuuut this IS March, so nothing subpar or sloppy ever touches your table.
Sex gets more intimate and gentle for a while. Yes, he still wants to pound you through the mattress, and he will again in the future. But just for a bit, he wants to make extra certain that you feel how much he cherishes you. He summons all the patience and tenderness he can muster. It will be a couple minutes before he feels fine about tossing you around like a ragdoll again—you, who put your body on the line so many times without him ever realizing.
He does all kinds of subtle, every-day gestures of consideration. A hand over the sharp corner of a table, an umbrella above your head when the first rain drop falls, a warm coat taken from his shoulders and wrapped around yours on a cold night, your favorite drink already waiting at the inn on a Friday night.
March is determined to never again fail to notice when you need support. He'll be there for you. Forever, if you'll have him.
I feel like Feitan would like to use darling’s boobs and thighs like pillow or some kind of anti-stress to touch and squeeze
SORRY🏃➡️
Warnings: none, really (slight nsfw thoughts, mentions of bruises). This is very soft and wholesome.
Anon you are so right!
Feitan loves the softer parts of his darling's body, whether that be the chest or thighs, he can't stop staring at them when you’re not looking, or when he THINKS you’re not looking. His eyes are unreadable, and it’s rare that he makes a move to reach out for you, but the desire to touch and squeeze and grope is always there.
He has a thing for your thighs in particular, so soft, maybe a little bit pudgy, so different from the muscle and bone of his own body. He loves your thighs, and feitan wants nothing more than to touch them. He wants nothing more than to rest his head against the plushness of your thighs, feeling the heat and the softness against his skin. He often imagines himself indulging in such domestic and comforting things with you; his head resting in your lap, your hands in his hair, your soft voice ringing in the air as you talk about something.
But he refrains, because he’s afraid to be so vulnerable with you, he hates the idea that you can make him feel like this- so hopelessly romantic and mushy and enamored with your body. He's already been forced to come to terms with the fact that your personality has ensnared him completely, leaving him helpless to the things he desires. Even a smile from you can make him feel so weak and pathetic.
He refuses to indulge in your body as well, whether that be the sexual interest he’s formed with you- how could he not, really, when you’re captive in his home, always so near he could reach out and touch if he could just wrack up the nerve, or the urge to pull you close in some kind of embrace, to inhale the scent of your hair and hold your body to his. He refuses these things because he isn't ready to feel the full spectrum of what you do to him, what he lets you do, he realizes, because really, he could end this whenever.
The closest he can get is picking out short shorts or skirts, ones that show off your thighs, and watch you closely. He’d love to pair these things with thigh highs, but doesnt dare, for the worry you'll realize his intentions. But the short material of your clothes is enough to reveal that wonderfully soft skin, and to Feitan, that’s enough for now.
On the off chance he does seek out the comfort of touching and squeezing your thighs, he’s zeroed in on your reactions the whole time. He knows it makes you uncomfortable- he feels a little better knowing that maybe you’re more uncomfortable and nervous than he is. His icy hands run up and down your leg, thumb digging into the plushness of the fat of your thigh, his eyes locked onto yours as he watches for any reaction.
He wants you to like what he does, but he knows you have no reason to. Living with him isn't pleasant, he isn't kind, and you still don't know what he wants from you- but he hopes that after so long without any contact from another person that maybe you’ll like this, just a little? Feitan wants you to snuggle closer, to hum in pleasant security as he touches you, wants you to like this, like HIM.
If you do any of these things- after all, it's been so long since you've felt touch that wasn't pain, who could blame you- it’s a massive boost to feitan’s ego, one that makes your life a lot better, actually. If he could achieve the security he desires, knowing you want him like he wants you, your life with him would be a lot better.
Even if you don't, he won't stop touching you, but it does bitter his mood quite a bit. If you shriek and squirm as he touches you, he’ll be rougher with you, might even press bruises into your legs for your bad behavior. Once he’s started to touch you and explore your body, he refuses to back down, intent to feel you in the way he so desperately craves.
What if Peter Parker and MJ were teenagers trying to lose their virginity to each other but they were both really nervous and it doesn't end up happening the first time they try because they can't stop laughing
Vero has barely made it back onto the walls when they catch sight of Viago, stalking towards them like a storm. When he reaches them, he grabs hold of their arm, and his fingers press into bruises they can feel rising beneath the thick leather of their armour.
"Come with me," he says. He is furious, as though they have not just killed two blighted dragons (or perhaps because they have) and there is some part of Vero that wants to protest, to pull away, to –
"Now," Viago says, and he tugs at them until they stumble towards him, and then after him. Their body betrays them, as it often does where he is concerned, following as though leashed.
Read on AO3
This is for Day 1 of Viago Week: Control.
I brushed off an old WIP and tried to polish it up and finish it off. I'm not sure I'm 100% happy with it, but I don't want to stress about it too much so I'm publishing it as-is!
it’s not quite jealousy, what sana feels, but something close to it.
she certainly doesn’t miss jihyo. at least, she firmly believes so. sana couldn’t miss someone who was inevitably close to her — in a way she never wished, constantly showing up at her place, to see her best friend. but a part of her, a part sana would never admit existed, inevitably wished none of that had ever happened, even if momo was at her happiest.
over the years, sana has learned how to hide her feelings even from herself. she eventually reached a point where it became hard to identify them, to know what she truly felt. sana believed that perhaps her body had developed an unique way to tell her when it was time for her to acknowledge her feelings. at those times, she would feel physically sick when things were hard to bear and she needed a break.
“what are you-” sana hears a gasp. momo appears in front of her in a matter of seconds, grabbing a plate with the cupcakes she had left on the counter to cool down. now, they were half eaten. “these were for jihyo!”
“jihyo isn’t into sweets.” sana says, as if she doesn’t feel guilty about stealing food from a pregnant woman.
jihyo didn’t look like one yet. it had been no longer than three weeks after jihyo announced her pregnancy to them, and she hadn’t changed at all in terms of appearance. perhaps if jihyo was already showing, sana would regret. but jihyo was far from that, and sana could still pretend nothing was going on until jihyo showed up again, looking for momo, because of course jihyo would want to stick close to the one who made her pregnant.
sana rolls her eyes the same time momo’s bottom lip sticks out, and with her index finger momo counts the number of cupcakes left for jihyo.
“she’s just picky but she likes them,” momo mumbles, a small groan passing through her lips, but she wasn’t angry. momo rarely got angry. sana had never seen her truly, genuinely like that — not with her, at least. “it’s fine, you can eat them. i’ll just make more.”
of course you will, sana thinks to herself as she grabs the cupcakes left and heads somewhere else, slightly irritated with momo’s lack of reaction. if she wasn’t eating in a hurry, wanting to leave before jihyo arrived, perhaps sana would’ve given her a grumpy answer to push her buttons.
sana has, maybe, been trying to get momo to be upset with her. that’s because momo was bothering her, constantly asking her random things about jihyo, as if sana knew everything about her, when in truth, sana knew very little about her ex. her ex. momo seemed to have forgotten about that part of the story quite quickly, because she acted as if sana had only been an acquaintance to jihyo, and then sana started to feel like the impostor between them.
exhibit 1. three days after the fainting incident.
“sana,” momo knocks at the door of sana’s room, getting in before sana got to invite her. “is jihyo into sports? i got, uh… tickets. ‘s for this weekend… but i could only buy two, so don’t be mad!”
that was the first time momo had made her a question about jihyo’s taste for things.
when momo tries to justify wanting to have a date with jihyo without her, sana thinks about telling momo that, in fact, she hated anything related to sports and consequentially hated watching games with her, but there was a chance momo would be sad if she knew about that, so sana doesn’t mention it.
“maybe? i think she plays tennis, or something.” sana doesn’t take her eyes off her phone, not wanting the conversation to last long. “why don’t you ask her?”
“uhhh,” momo scratches her nape. “i just want to impress her, i guess.”
momo only gives sana half of an answer. jihyo made her nervous, which was only natural as she was momo’s first girlfriend — not that momo had really asked her to be her girlfriend, but jihyo was. she became her girlfriend only a few minutes after momo woke up from fainting.
in a certain way, their situation was comic. momo’s three days long girlfriend had also been sana’s first girlfriend. it was like sana was being a good friend and testing the waters so that momo could dive in. deep. and with no fears.
“oh, trust me, jihyo is very easy to impress,” sana lets out a sort of laugh, slightly sarcastic with her words. “was that all you wanted to ask?”
sana can smell the chocolate from the second batch of cupcakes from her room as she got ready to go out. she had actually done a good thing by eating the ones momo had previously made, as jihyo would get even better ones — they would still be warm by the time she ate them. and momo had apparently added more chocolate to the second batch.
again, thinking about jihyo and momo’s happiness makes sana feel uneasy.
exhibit 2.
“i need a real job, right?” momo says randomly one day, when they’re mindlessly catching up with a tv show they only watched together. “jihyo told me she wants me to meet her parents. but i can’t meet them if i can’t promise i’ll take care of her and our baby’s needs. i can’t jus’ show up at their house and say i’m broke and stuff... she’s loaded and all, but...”
“you’re not broke.” sana answers simply, not really paying attention at first to what momo was trying to say.
“because i only spend money with myself,” momo whines. “do you know how expensive a baby can be? because i don’t. but i have a feeling that it’s going to be a lot more than what i make with volleyball.”
upon listening about jihyo’s pregnancy, sana no longer wants to stay in the living room with momo. her mood changes completely, and the popcorn she’d been snacking on was no longer tasty. she leaves the bowl at the table near the couch. “have you talked to jihyo about this?”
“we don’t… talk a lot.” momo blushes and redirects her eyes to the tv instead of sana. “w-well, next time we’re together i’ll try to talk to her about this. but i should, right?”
“if i were you, i would probably look for an extra income.” sana says, giving an honest, jealousy-free advice. her throat tightens, as if her body was refusing to help momo. sana forced her voice to come out. “a baby is expensive. even if jihyo can deal with the expenses on her own, you should do your part.”
sana’s advice makes momo drink her soda like it’s beer, wondering why she came inside and ended up in such a situation. instantly, she thinks about sex with jihyo and her cheeks become red. remembering her nights with jihyo is enough for her to stop making herself stupid questions and start wishing they could do it all again soon.
before leaving, sana lets momo know that she would probably return later at night.
she shouldn’t leave that night — she was starting to feel sick, her body was warm from what seemed like the beginning of a fever, but sana knew that was all her mind’s fault. there was no reason for her to feel that way other than her repressed feelings, and there was no better way to fight them than being busy with better things.
unfortunately, sana’s date never arrives at the place they had agreed to meet on. the girl cancels their date over texts and apologizes for the inconvenience, but sana doesn’t text her back. she ends up in a bar instead of going home, the thought of returning sober and possibly having to see things that would bother her when they shouldn’t encourage her to stay.
sana usually doesn’t drink a lot. never more than she could bear. she did when she was with jihyo, because jihyo, despite being way more responsible than her in most aspects, was keen on getting drunk for fun. that was yet another thing momo didn’t know about jihyo, and sana wonders if the question would ever come up, like all of the others.
sana wasn’t the only one having a bad day, it’s something she notices rather quickly. she watches, curious, the grumpy bartender’s every move from the moment she realizes the girl was quite anxious to leave. tzuyu doesn’t hide it, really, sighing as she made drinks for the clients, checking her phone every couple of seconds, only growing frustrated the more mina made her wait.
when mina eventually arrives, tzuyu is quick to switch places with her.
“you’re late. by an hour.” tzuyu complains, “an hour!”
“bike broke on the way here,” mina grunts, quickly patting her pants and passing her hands over her hair, as if her gestures would make her look more presentable. “i’m sorry, okay? i went home and tried to fix it. didn’t work out, so i walked.”
“again?” tzuyu asks, not doubting the sincerity of mina’s words. she looked like someone who walked all the way there. “just get a new one.”
“i like my bike,” mina says, in defense of her (not so) reliable bicycle. “it’s vintage.”
“and awful. get a new one.” tzuyu says as if it’s an order, quickly changing places with mina and handing her the apron that had been waiting for her to arrive — for about an hour. “i’ll leave early tomorrow. you better be here an hour earlier. oh, and try not to give the blondie over there more alcohol. she’s already had too much.”
“that’s fair, i guess.” mina sighs. “see you tomorrow,” she mutters, with little excitement in her tone.
the confirmation is all tzuyu seems to need before she leaves, closing the door that led to the back of the bar as mina put on her apron.
it’s only then, when sana catches a glimpse of the bartender starting her shift, that she guesses her night didn’t have to be bad all the way to its end. sana raises her hand, getting mina’s attention, wanting to be her very first client of the night.
“i’ll have another of these, cutie.” sana smiles after dropping the pet name. mina sighs.
“are you sure?” mina asks, recognizing the blonde woman tzuyu had talked about. “you haven’t finished your drink yet.”
“oh, are you worried about me?” sana lowers her tone, chin on her hand, crossing her legs in a way that made her skirt rise. unfortunately, mina couldn’t see her thighs the way sana intended her to see, not behind the counter.
mina seems unimpressed with sana’s attempt of flirting. she smiles and offers sana a short nod, as if she was putting an end to their brief conversation, and starts to make her drink. clients like sana were frequent, mina has learned how to deal with them — keeping a nonchalant face usually sent them away.
“it’s sana, by the way.” sana says, sipping the remains of her drink. the alcohol wasn’t as strong as it was when she started drinking, but sana guesses that her tolerance had grown after the amount of those she’d drank.
mina prepares the drink in an almost robotic way. she didn’t love working as a bartender, of course she wouldn’t as someone who quite enjoyed peace and quiet, but sometimes it was therapeutic, as if she was playing a cozy game — except for the fact that she also dealt with drunk people and there was loud music playing at all times, which wasn’t cozy at all. her job became considerably harder, though, when she had clients like sana.
mina feels sana’s gaze on her the entire time she’s preparing her drink. she places the final product on the counter for sana, and, without starting a conversation, she gets other people’s orders. surprisingly, sana doesn’t try to talk to her for a good while, until she’s ready for another drink.
“c’mere, cutie,” sana calls, making mina sigh before she turned to her. “another one, please. or should i get something else…”
“sana,” it’s the first thing mina says, refusing to call her ‘lady’ or ‘miss’. “you’re here alone, aren’t you? would you like anything without alcohol?”
“so you are worried about me,” sana taunts. “perhaps you’re right. i’m alone and i’ve had enough, but if you go home with me i won’t have any trouble.”
“my shift won’t end any time soon.” mina replies.
“i can wait.” sana offers.
“i have a girlfriend.” mina lies, wondering if that would make her client give up.
“i don’t mind. she could join,” sana muses. “or… we could do it behind her back.”
“so persistent,” mina laughs. “the answer is still a no. would you like some juice?”
sana pouts. “a no won’t do. give me your number.”
fortunately for mina, a client interrupts their conversation. she wouldn’t give her number to a complete stranger, despite finding sana rather cute. young people like sana and herself were usually at bars due to their broken hearts, it’s something mina had learned from experience. mina stayed away from complicated people, no matter how pretty they were — and she didn’t make exceptions.
minutes later, sana’s body is complaining and begging for her bed. she had been there for longer than she should’ve stayed, interested on the cute bartender who couldn’t care less about her. the difficult ones were always the most fun to play with, sana thinks, keeping a smile on her face as she got up and made her way to where mina was, standing face to face with her, the both of them only separated by a counter.
“can i at least know your name?” sana asks, propping her elbows on the counter, showing mina her cleavage, but mina’s eyes never strayed from her face.
mina decides to make her happy one time that night. her first name was a simple information, surely it would be harmless letting sana know about it. “mina.”
“give me your number, mina.” sana insists, trying to give mina her phone so she could type her number.
“i could give you a fake number, did you know that?” mina answers, offering sana an amused smile.
“oh, come on!” sana whines. “i really need to go, cutie. let’s make this quick.”
sana’s back luck didn’t seem to end that night. a group of people soon grab mina’s attention, and sana knew she couldn’t stay any longer. it wasn’t all that bad, though, that she had to leave — mina worked there, and all sana had to do was return to the bar in order to see her. getting her number couldn’t be that hard, right?
if momo knew dating someone could be that good, she would’ve done it sooner. or maybe not, because it wouldn’t be with jihyo then. only if she stole jihyo from sana, and it’s not like she hadn’t, but it’s not like she had either.
it was a fair exchange, really, at least momo thinks so — sana didn’t want jihyo, all momo did was take her when they weren’t together anymore. she did it for sana’s sake, and because she wanted jihyo. back then, in a different way than she does now, but momo still wanted her.
“sorry, bbuyo is a bit lazy.” jihyo explains, slightly embarrassed about her cat’s antics.
the moment jihyo lets go of her hand to grab her cat from the ground, momo closes her fist to find heat, feeling cold when jihyo’s hand is no longer keeping hers warm.
they hadn’t been walking for long. boo seemed like he could be walked for hours, but bbuyo had hardly spent ten minutes walking and he was already tired, meowing for jihyo to pick him up. she eventually did, but only when he stopped walking and laid on the ground, making it impossible for them to keep going.
“let me hold him for you,” momo offers. “he’s quite chunky. must be heavy for you.”
momo did that a lot — not letting jihyo hold heavy things. or whatever she deemed heavy. and jihyo knew it wasn’t necessary, she could perfectly lift heavier items and she held bbuyo like that a lot at home, but when she was with momo, she became suddenly incapable of doing those things. both because momo was always eager to help and because she liked being treated like that, desperately so, wanting to be doted on by momo, never rejecting her help.
“thank you.” jihyo smiles, her eyes almost closing as she does, grabbing boo’s leash after momo takes bbuyo in her arms.
then, boo is the one who wants to make a stop. while bbuyo prefers his owner’s arms, he doesn’t fight against being held by momo. boo, on the other hand, lets his paws reach jihyo’s knee, as if asking to be held as well.
“we should probably sit somewhere,” momo says, looking around to find an empty bench. “there!” she points with her finger.
the weather was particularly cold that day, enough to make them wear thicker clothes. while making their way to the bench, jihyo intertwines her arm with momo’s, leaning her head into her shoulder in search for warmth once they take a sit.
neither of them have the courage to start a proper conversation. from the moment momo started calling jihyo ‘her girl’, they had been a mess. momo was nothing like sana, and jihyo was still trying to figure out how to act around her. as for momo, she didn’t want to mess up, and she’d usually wait until jihyo started a conversation in order to speak.
momo eventually breaks the silence. this time, she has really has to, as it was an important matter she wanted to talk about.
“have you…” momo starts, her nose slightly red due to the weather, cheeks pink. “have you told your parents?”
“i want you to meet them,” jihyo replies, as shy as momo. “but not yet. they’ve been busy, a-and i’m a little… they won’t react badly, i know that, but i don’t know how to tell them.”
momo hums, scratching the back of her neck. the sincerity in jihyo’s voice is concerning, letting momo know that jihyo was just as lost as she was. even then, momo feels some sort of comfort in knowing she wasn’t the only one who didn’t know what to do.
jihyo pulls away, only so she could sit straight, her hand tingling as boo licked her palm. “have you told yours?”
“not yet.” momo shifts the arm supporting bbuyo, letting the cat nuzzle into the other arm. her free arm passes behind jihyo’s back, hand holding her waist. it’s the way momo finds to get her closer, not possessive but caring, as if telling jihyo she wasn’t alone. “we should do this together.”
jihyo relaxes upon hearing momo’s words, surprised that she was tensed up to begin with.
“that would be better,” jihyo says, evident relief coated in her tone.
“next week i’ll start looking for a part time job.” momo says, thumb moving up and down against jihyo’s waist, caressing her covered skin.
“but… what about college?” jihyo instantly searches for momo’s eyes, their noses almost touching as she did little effort to pull away. “y-you don’t have to do that. i can take care of-”
making use of their closeness, momo leans in, lips touching jihyo’s softly, effectively silencing her.
“it’ll be alright,” momo assures, all but whispering her words. her lips meet jihyo’s once more before momo moves away, and jihyo’s head falls instantly on her shoulder, the younger girl evidently shy. momo wasn’t far behind, flushed like jihyo. “i’ll keep studying and i won’t leave volleyball, don’t worry about that. both of you are my responsibility now. i’m just taking care of you.”
momo hardly knows how she manages to give jihyo such reassurances, with words that seemed rehearsed due to how nicely they fell past her lips, but she’s relieved she’s able to do that. jihyo melts into the embrace of momo’s arm, cheeks burning as her words sink into her head.
she was momo’s responsibility now. for the first time in her life, jihyo felt like she truly belonged to someone.
much against sana’s wishes, jihyo’s visits start happening more frequently. seeing her with momo became a regular occurrence. they looked happy, always with big smiles on their faces, looking flushed around each other but still incapable of not being in each other’s arms at all times.
sana wonders why jihyo didn’t invite momo over to her apartment instead. she lived alone after all. that was one of the multiple things sana vividly remembered about jihyo — she’d been there plenty of times, enough to remember how jihyo used to complain about wanting her to stay for longer every time sana would leave, because she felt lonely when sana left.
sana had quite a lengthy list of things she didn’t like about jihyo, but her clingy behavior was what bothered sana the most, especially now that she wasn’t hers. jihyo was never truly hers, at least not from sana’s perspective at that moment, but a sulking voice in sana’s head would tell her that the girl momo had in her arms more often than not used to be hers.
and it’s not that sana missed jihyo, if she missed anything it surely wasn’t jihyo herself, but she wanted what momo had. it’s not like what jihyo and momo were living could ever happen with her — if jihyo had never gotten with momo, she would’ve been forgotten rather quickly. and sana didn’t have what it took to get her pregnant by accident.
whatever momo and jihyo had was never meant to be sana’s story. and yet, the most egoistic part of sana crumbled as a consequence of their happiness. that very part of sana also made her ask herself how they could be so happy when they had just ruined their lives with an early kid, and they hardly even knew each other.
of course that would only result in trouble in the future, sana thinks. momo had yet to know the controlling, obsessive person jihyo hid behind a seemingly innocent character, and jihyo would eventually find out that momo would never be what sana knew jihyo wanted her to be… they wouldn’t live happily ever after, there had to be something that would get in their way-
“we’re going out.” momo announces, hand in hand with jihyo, the backpack she wore already letting sana know she wouldn’t return that day, but momo tells her regardless of that. “…and we’ll play tennis tomorrow, my sister will be there. will you come with us?”
“i have a date tomorrow.” sana lies, both wanting to see if she would get any reaction from jihyo and making up an excuse. “have fun you two.”
it’s hard to detect sana’s change of behavior when she’s busy with loving — momo was falling deep for jihyo, without even knowing what she felt was love.
it blinded momo to sana’s obvious change with her. sana wouldn’t usually pass up a chance to hang out with momo and her sister, especially not for a date, but momo guesses sana didn’t want to go because of jihyo, which was understandable.
when momo and jihyo leave, momo’s hand is on jihyo’s waist and the both of them are laughing to something silly momo says. sana feels bitter all over again. conveniently enough, she ends up making use of the bartender’s name and finds her social media. sana tries sending a message, and, unsurprisingly, she is left on read.
“what’s the menu for tonight, chef?”
a tired, soft voice reaches momo’s ears. she’s busy looking for the greens in their groceries, wanting to start the recipe with them, when jihyo’s arms sheathe her waist. momo smiles at the feeling of a plump cheek against her back — jihyo is like a cat staying where she deemed a good place, uncaring of her weight falling against momo, using her as a support.
“remember that old lady i told you about? the cheesecake lady,” momo takes green onions out of the bag.
“the granny you flirted with?” jihyo utters, teasing momo with her question.
“yep,” momo’s confirmation makes jihyo laugh against her back. “she was trying to have her way into my heart and gave me this family recipe. i wasn’t expecting lasagna, but, apparently she’s italian! she does have an accent,” momo mutters, putting the items of a grocery bag out, on the counter. “do you like spinach?”
jihyo nods, letting momo feel her gesture, and hums, a soft noise similar to a cat’s meow. “so you really like her. should i be concerned?”
it’s not sudden, but a deepening of the warm feeling in her chest — momo feels her heart thumping with the display of jealousy. they were only just getting used to each other and momo knew she could do that forever: having jihyo’s smaller frame lying comfortably against hers, casually talking about trivial things, being teased sweetly by her girlfriend. momo loved that. already loved jihyo.
“i really like you.” momo says, slightly defensive, her voice reaching a higher pitch. “but maybe you should.”
jihyo pinches her tummy and momo hears a whine. “you shouldn’t be saying these things to your pregnant girlfriend, hirai.”
“you like my name.” momo coos. she’s no longer separating the ingredients for their dinner, her hands are on the counter, fully distracted by jihyo. “should we use it on our baby?”
jihyo blushes at that, heart racing at the direct mention of their baby. “only if i get to pick their first name.”
“fair enough.” momo turns around, making jihyo have to release her momentarily. the lack of physical contact doesn’t last long, and soon momo is the one with her hands on jihyo’s waist, making the younger girl wrap her arms around her neck. “you’re very pretty, jihyo.”
jihyo had been told that very same thing plenty of times. such praises weren’t new to her, yet momo was the only person who made her believe it. momo wasn’t just saying that to try and take her to bed — in the past, jihyo wouldn’t mind to hear those words while being fully aware of the intentions hid behind them. now, the same words are but sweet reminders that she didn’t need people like that, like sana, to feel the way momo made her feel.
“even without makeup?” jihyo asks.
“even more without it. and you smell so good,” momo moves closer, nose bumping into jihyo’s neck. “i should’ve joined you in the shower.”
“i could always take another with you,” jihyo whispers, closing her eyes at the tender impact of momo’s lips on her neck.
momo smiles, her hands falling down to jihyo’s bare thighs, learning that jihyo wore nothing but her panties under the big shirt she had on. “i thought you wanted to sleep before dinner.”
“d-did i say that?” jihyo lets out meekly, a weak moan leaving her lips as momo slid her panties down, letting it fall to jihyo’s feet.
“uh huh,” momo teases, “you said you were tired and i can’t let my girlfriend skip her rest. besides, you need energy for tomorrow.” momo says, lips against jihyo’s neck, hands on her hips. before jihyo gets to protest, momo offers a solution to their problem. “i’ll just have to make you sleep then. i have a few ideas, wanna hear about them?”
when momo pulls away from jihyo’s neck, looking at jihyo’s eyes and waiting for an answer, she receives a kiss instead, and legs wrapping around her waist.
it takes more effort than it should for them to make it to the bedroom.
momo bumps into some furniture and a couple of walls, incapable of not doing so with such needy lips glued to hers, lips that would complain if she broke their kiss in order to see where she was heading. if jihyo wasn’t already carrying, perhaps momo would make her a mother right then and there, this time fully aware of what she was doing.
exhibit...? (sana should probably stop counting.)
“is it too early to marry jihyo?”
the question is made the day after jihyo meets momo’s sister, as soon as momo joins sana in the living room. it takes sana off guard, but momo seems rather serious about her question.
“it’s been two months since you met her.” sana says. her head aches all of a sudden, and sana fixes her posture on the couch in order to look at momo. “you’re not really thinking about that, are you?
“i am,” momo replies. she smiles, reminiscing the days she spent with jihyo. “my sister loved her. i love her. we’re having a baby together,” momo gives out her reasons. “wouldn’t it be appropriate to just marry her?”
sana shakes her head. “you don’t have to marry her just because you got her pregnant. you barely know her.”
“it’s impossible to know everything about someone.” momo pouts. “i don’t know everything about you, but i love you and we live together. we are kind of married if you think about it.”
“it’s different, momo.” sana sighs.
“i know her enough.” momo says, softer this time. but more serious.
sana doesn’t give her an answer this time, choosing silence over saying what she might regret.
“it’s just… even though we were together only a couple of hours ago, i miss her. i never felt this way before,” momo mutters, frowning as she speaks. “it’s like… i’m constantly yearning for what i already have. and i know she feels the same.”
“marriage is not something you decide on this quickly.” sana replies. and neither is having a baby, but at least that could happen by accident. sana doesn’t say what she wants to say, feeling a burning discomfort in her chest in return. she stands up, ending their conversation shortly. “i’m going to bed. need to wake up early in the morning.”
momo is left alone in the living room, confused as to why sana seemed upset when she left. even sana’s behavior wasn’t enough to make momo stop thinking about marrying jihyo, and sana is long forgotten so that momo could think about her situation with jihyo.
that night, momo can only sleep after jihyo sends her a photo of her in bed with her cat, smiling as she cuddled with him, still with her glasses because she had been reading.
momo almost tells jihyo she loves her then, but telling that to her without being able to kiss her wouldn’t be as fulfilling. all momo can do is wish to see jihyo again soon, so that she could let her know about her feelings and see her pretty smile when the three words were revealed to her.
HAII! im annie - my nickname is macci nd im looking for friends (mostly) hehe
this is always updating :3
A SMALL INTRO >_<
i go by any pronouns because i could care less, (he/him/they/them/it/she/her) but i prefer she / her ^^ i currently live in Canada and my main posts will be about venting / eds! i like kpop, specifically ILLIT and ENHYPEN ♡
I make digital and traditional art and do commissions if you are interested !
⭐️INTERACT⭐️ ><
if you are interested in kpop demon hunters, high rise invasion, haikyu, the summer Hikaru died, K-ON!, tdlc, yandere simulator, Adolf hitler,
if you are okay with nsfw posts, therianthropy, furrys☆
⚠️‼️DO NOT INTERACT‼️⚠️
basic dni!
anti agere
if all you want is pictures nd if you expect a face reveal, I'll send parts of my face but not the whole thing.
if you consistently take more than a few hours to reply (dry texter)
if your fatphobic (I'm a lil chubby >:[)
if you're racist (I'm blasian, and just be a decent human being🤦♀️.)
