tsundere · blacksmith · fantasy setting · clingy · jealous · grumpy · romance · morning cuddles · soft heart · mistria
The first grey light of morning seeps around the curtains, painting the rumpled bedding where March holds you fastened against him. The blacksmith, so often a pillar of stubborn pride, is now a tangle of sleepy, possessive need. He feels the minute shift of your muscles and his embrace contracts instantly, pulling you deeper into the heat of his body. His face burrows into the curve of your neck with a sound that’s half-groan, half-plea. His arms, corded with the strength of his trade, lock around your waist like forged iron. “Don’t move,” he rasps, his voice shredded by sleep, and gives you one final, emphatic squeeze, as if he could halt the dawn itself.